- Home
- Humphrey Carpenter
Mr Majeika and the School Play
Mr Majeika and the School Play Read online
PUFFIN BOOKS
MR MAJEIKA AND THE SCHOOL PLAY
Humphrey Carpenter was born and educated in Oxford and worked for the BBC before becoming a full-time writer in 1975. He has published award-winning biographies of J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, W. H. Auden, Benjamin Britten, Spike Milligan and others, and is the co-author, with his wife, Mari Prichard, of The Oxford Companion to Children’s Literature. From 1994 to 1996 he directed the Cheltenham Festival of Literature. He has written plays for radio and the theatre, including a dramatization of Gulliver’s Travels (1995), and for many years ran a young people’s drama group, the Mushy Pea Theatre Company. He has two daughters.
Books by Humphrey Carpenter
MR MAJEIKA
MR MAJEIKA AND THE DINNER LADY
MR MAJEIKA AND THE GHOST TRAIN
MR MAJEIKA AND THE HAUNTED HOTEL
MR MAJEIKA AND THE LOST SPELL BOOK
MR MAJEIKA AND THE MUSIC TEACHER
MR MAJEIKA AND THE SCHOOL BOOK WEEK
MR MAJEIKA AND THE SCHOOL CARETAKER
MR MAJEIKA AND THE SCHOOL INSPECTOR
MR MAJEIKA AND THE SCHOOL PLAY
MR MAJEIKA AND THE SCHOOL TRIP
MR MAJEIKA ON THE INTERNET
MR MAJEIKA VANISHES
THE PUFFIN BOOK OF CLASSIC
CHILDREN’S STORIES (Ed.)
SHAKESPEARE WITHOUT THE BORING BITS
MORE SHAKESPEARE WITHOUT THE
BORING BITS
HUMPHREY CARPENTER
Mr Majeika and the School Play
Illustrated by Frank Rodgers
PUFFIN
PUFFIN BOOKS
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group (USA), Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Books Australia Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell,
Victoria 3124, Australia
Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2
Penguin Books India (P) Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park,
New Delhi – 110 017, India
Penguin Books (NZ) Ltd, Cnr Rosedale and Airborne Roads, Albany, Auckland,
New Zealand
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
www.penguin.com
First published by Viking 1991
Published in Puffin Books 1992
21
Text copyright © Humphrey Carpenter, 1991
Illustrations copyright © Frank Rodgers, 1991
All rights reserved
The moral right of the author and illustrator has been asserted
Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978-0-14-194446-3
Contents
1. Hamish and the People Next Door
2. Hamish the Giant-Killer
3. On the Carpet
1. Hamish and the People Next Door
“As you all know,” said Mr Majeika to Class Three at St Barty’s School, “this term our project is mountains. And this morning we’re going to watch a video called The Conquest of Everest.”
Everyone in Class Three was pleased about this, except Hamish Bigmore, the worst-behaved boy in the class. “What a bore,” he said, yawning.
“Why does Hamish always have to grumble?” said Pete to his twin brother Thomas. Their friend Jody said to Hamish: “It’s a really exciting film. I’ve seen it before. It’s about some very brave people who were the first to climb up Mount Everest, the highest mountain in the world.”
“Climb,” sneered Hamish. “What a silly thing to do. They ought to have got a plane to land them on the top.”
Mr Majeika sighed. Teaching Class Three would have been very easy if it hadn’t been for Hamish. Every time the class did anything unusual, Hamish complained and made a nuisance of himself. Then Mr Majeika would lose his temper and do some magic in order to set things right again.
Mr Majeika had once been a wizard, but he was now a teacher, and teachers aren’t supposed to do magic. And if it hadn’t been for Hamish Bigmore, Mr Majeika wouldn’t have had to do any magic, and there would have been peace and quiet.
“Settle down, everyone,” Mr Majeika called, and he switched on the television and the video recorder. The film began with some stirring music, and the words “The Conquest of Everest” came up on the screen. Soon Class Three were watching the team of brave people climbing up through the snow towards the peak of the mountain.
Suddenly the picture stopped, and then the mountaineers began walking backwards. One or two people giggled, and Mr Majeika looked puzzled. “What’s going on?” he asked. Although he knew lots about magic, he wasn’t very good at coping with modern machines like televisions and video recorders, so he didn’t realize what had happened.
“It’s Hamish Bigmore, sir,” called out Melanie. “He’s got the remote control and he’s mucking about with it.” Hamish kicked Melanie and she began to cry.
“Stop it, Hamish,” said Mr Majeika. The film went on normally for a few minutes. Then, just as the mountaineers were walking through a snowstorm, the picture changed into a Bugs Bunny cartoon.
“Hamish, what are you doing?” snapped Mr Majeika. “Give me that thing!” But Hamish had hidden the remote control in his desk, and Mr Majeika couldn’t find it.
Once again, the Everest film continued for a couple of minutes. But just as it was getting really exciting, it all went into double speed, so that the mountaineers were running up Everest like Olympic sprinters. “There!” Hamish called out. “Climbing mountains is easy!”
“Hamish Bigmore, I have had enough,” exploded Mr Majeika. There was a flash and a puff of smoke, and Hamish was nowhere to be seen.
“Hurray,” said Jody. “Now we can watch the film in peace.”
“Yes,” said Thomas. “But what’s
happened to Hamish?”
“I’ve no idea,” said Mr Majeika, looking worried. “Silly me, I’ve been and done it again.”
“There are no frogs around, sir,” said one of the other children. On a famous occasion when Mr Majeika had first come to teach Class Three, he had accidentally turned Hamish into a frog, and it had taken a lot of bother to turn him back again.
“He’ll turn up sooner or later, worse luck,” said Pete. Mr Majeika thought this was probably true, so they all got on with watching the rest of the film, which was very exciting.
The only odd thing was that just after Hamish disappeared, the television set began rocking from side to side, as if someone were stuck in there and was trying to get out. Mr Majeika peered into the back of it, but he couldn’t see anything unusual.
By the end of afternoon school, Hamish still hadn’t turned up, and Mr Majeika was looking very anxious. “Oh dear,” he muttered, “whatever will his parents say?”
“Don’t worry, Mr Majeika,” said Thomas. “They’re away, and Hamish is staying with us, worse luck.”
“We’ll tell our mum he’s staying with someone else tonight,” said Pete. “I’m sure she’ll be glad not to have him in the ho
use.”
“Well, I’ll have to try out some spells tonight to see if I can find where he is,” said Mr Majeika. “It’s really very worrying.” He went home and spent the evening turning the pages of his spell book. He tried out all sorts of spells for finding missing people, but without any success.
Meanwhile Jody had gone home and switched on the TV. When the children’s programmes were finished, The People Next Door came on.
Most of Class Three, especially the girls, watched The People Next Door. It was an Australian programme about several families who lived in the same street. The characters everybody liked best were a young woman called Jolene and a young man called Craig, who were played by two famous pop stars. Jolene and Craig had fallen in love, and most evenings there were scenes of them kissing each other.
Thomas liked watching The People Next Door, and he tried to do his hair like Craig and speak with an Australian accent. Pete thought the programme was silly, though, and he usually went and did something else while it was on:
Jody had just poured herself a glass of orange juice and was watching the first scene of tonight’s episode. Sure enough, there were Craig and Jolene sitting on a bench at the end of the street, in the moonlight.
“Oh, Craig,” said Jolene.
“Oh, Jolene,” said Craig.
“Oi,” said a voice, “how do I get out of this crummy place and back to St Barty’s?”
Jody froze. She knew that voice. It was Hamish Bigmore.
“Who was that, Craig?” whispered Jolene. “I thought we were all alone.”
Craig looked around him. “Sure are,” he said. “Can’t see anyone. Just some kid in a back garden, I reckon… Oh, Jolene!”
“Oh, Craig!”
“Oi,” said the voice again, “did you hear me? I said, how do I get out of this crummy place and back to St Barty’s School?”
“There it is again, Craig,” said Jolene.
“Well, I still can’t see anyone,” said Craig. “Oh, Jolene!”
“Oh, Craig!” said Jolene.
They began to kiss.
But before they could get into a clinch, Hamish Bigmore’s head came up over the back of the bench. “Oi!” he said. “No snogging here!”
“Pete!” called Thomas, who was watching the programme in the living-room. “Come here! Hamish has got into The People Next Door!”
“And who do you think you are?” Jolene was saying angrily to Hamish.
“I’ve never seen him before,” said Craig. “Are you from this street, kid?”
“Course I’m not from your crummy street,” said Hamish. “This programme’s a load of rubbish, everyone knows that. They ought to take it off and put on a horror movie. And as for you two, snogging all the time –”
“Get out of here,” snapped Craig, raising his fists to Hamish.
“Sure, I’m going,” sneered Hamish. He turned to Jolene. “I’m off to somewhere better than this. Fancy an evening out with me, honeybunch?”
“Why, you little twerp!” snapped Jolene, as Hamish ran off.
“Good grief,” said Pete, staring at the TV set, “how did he get into the programme?”
The telephone rang. It was Jody. "Did you see what I saw?" she asked Thomas.
“Yes,” said Thomas. “Just like him, barging in on Craig and Jolene.”
“It must have been Mr Majeika’s spell this morning,” said Jody. “Let’s keep watching, in case he comes back.”
But the rest of The People Next Door went on without interruption.
Thomas and Pete had their supper and went to bed. But Thomas decided that he wanted a glass of water before he went to sleep. He went downstairs again.
In the living-room the TV was on, but no one was watching it. His father was in the kitchen, washing up, and his mother was writing a letter.
On the TV a famous newsreader was questioning the Prime Minister about new laws that had been passed for schools. “And does this mean, Prime Minister, that all children will have to do at least an hour’s maths every day?”
“It certainly does,” answered the Prime Minister. “We believe that maths is a very important subject. This country needs people who are good at maths, because –”
“What a load of rubbish,” said Hamish’s voice suddenly, and, as Thomas watched, Hamish himself appeared on the screen, just behind the Prime Minister’s chair.
The Prime Minister stared. “Who is this impertinent young man?” she asked.
“Hamish Bigmore, Class Three, St Barty’s School,” said Hamish. “And you can take it from me that maths is the stupidest subject ever invented. What’s the point of learning maths? You can do it all with calculators and computers. Anyway, I’m off.”
“I’m terribly sorry about that, Prime Minister, and, er, viewers,” said the famous newsreader. “A slight technical hitch. Well, as you were saying, Prime Minister…” And the programme continued normally.
Thomas got his glass of water and went upstairs. “I’ve seen him again,” he said to Pete. “He seems to be wandering through all the programmes.”
“Well, I hope he stays there,” said Pete, and he rolled over and went to sleep.
But Thomas couldn’t get to sleep for thinking about Hamish, and wondering what programme he would turn up in next.
After about an hour, he got up and went downstairs again. His parents had gone to bed now, because it was very late. Thomas turned on the TV. A horror film was showing.
He looked in the paper. The film was called The Curse of the Locked Room, and it was about a family living in a haunted house where one of the rooms was locked. The film got spookier and spookier, and the music became creepier and creepier. At last it got to the scene where they had found the key to the locked room, and were going to open it.
It was a very old film, in black and white.
“Oh, Claude,” said the heroine, “do you think it’s safe for us to – to open that mysterious door?”
“We must do, my darling,” said the hero. “We can’t go on living with this terrible menace in our lives. We have to find out what’s – in that room!”
The two of them walked down the passage to the locked room, holding on to each other nervously. The hero put the key in the lock and turned it. “And now,” he breathed, “we will see!”
He turned the handle and the door creaked open.
“Oi,” said Hamish’s voice, “get out of here. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m trying to get a bit of sleep.”
The hero banged the door shut. “Aaargh!” he gasped. “It was ghastly! Let’s leave it in there, my darling, and lock the door again. If we let it out, who knows what harm such a terrible creature might do?’
“That’s true enough,” said Thomas to himself, and went to bed.
The next morning at school, Mr Majeika was looking very anxious indeed. “Has anyone seen Hamish Bigmore?” he asked nervously. “I can’t discover him anywhere.”
“I saw him, Mr Majeika,” said Jody. “He was standing behind a bench in Australia.”
“And Thomas saw him talking to the Prime Minister,” said Pete.
“And he was in a locked room in a haunted house,” said Thomas.
“This is no time for silly games,” said Mr Majeika.
“No, really,” said Thomas, and he and Jody explained.
Mr Majeika turned rather white and looked very concerned. “This is terrible,” he said. “How on earth are we to get him out? His parents will be horrified if they find out.”
“And just think of the poor people whose TV programmes he keeps spoiling,” said Jody.
“Very well,” said Mr Majeika, “I’ll see what I can do.”
He thought for a moment, then shut his eyes and waved his hands over the television set. Nothing happened.
“Oh dear,” he said.
“Perhaps it would work if you turned the TV on?” suggested Jody.
“What a good idea,” said Mr Majeika. He switched it on. “And now,” the announcer w
as saying, “here’s a Bugs Bunny cartoon.”
The cartoon started. Mr Majeika shut his eyes and waved his hands again.
Bugs Bunny came running on to the screen – and came running off the screen, right out into the classroom.
“Hi there!” he said to Mr Majeika. “What’s up, doc?”
Mr Majeika hastily waved his hands again, and Bugs Bunny disappeared back on to the screen.
“You should have left him here, Mr Majeika,” said Pete. “He could have had Hamish Bigmore’s desk. I’d much rather sit next to Bugs Bunny than Hamish Bigmore.”
The cartoon came to an end and a programme for very young children began. “Hello, everyone,” said the jolly lady who was presenting it. “Today I’m going to show you what to make with Play-doh. Now, here’s something I made earlier…”
Hamish Bigmore walked across the screen, yawning. “I want some breakfast,” he said to the lady presenter. “Hasn’t anyone got anything to eat in this dump?” He walked off again, in search of food.
“This is dreadful,” said Mr Majeika. “What am I going to do?”
“Next time he comes on the screen,” said Jody, “you could try your spell again. After all, it brought Bugs Bunny out, so why not Hamish?”
But Hamish didn’t reappear in the children’s programme, so they had to wait to see what would come on next.
It was a Western, with lots of cowboys. For a long while, there was no sign of Hamish. Then the scene switched to a saloon, and while the two main characters were drinking at the bar, the doors swung open and in walked Hamish.
He was dressed as a cowboy, with a big hat and pistols slung on each side. “Good grief,” said Thomas. “Where on earth did he get those clothes?”
“Howdy, pardner,” said one of the cowboys.
“Howdy,” said Hamish.
“What are you having, Big Boy?” said the blonde barmaid.
“I’ll have cornflakes and baked beans on toast,” said Hamish. “And what are you doing tonight, sweetheart?”
“Hey, pardner,” said the other cowboy, “you lay off mah gal!” And he put his hands on his pistols.