Mr Majeika and the School Play Read online

  “Never mind,” said Pete. “Who wants to waste time looking for Hamish Bigmore? Let’s go and have that prize tea we were promised.”

  But when they got to the room where the tea was set out, there was just a mess of empty plates, with Hamish Bigmore sitting in the middle of them, looking rather sick.

  “Guess what’s happened to the

  chocolate cake?” said Jody.

  “Oh, Hamish,” said Mr Majeika, “you might have left some for the rest of us.”

  “Fee, fie, fo, fum!” chanted Pete. “I smell the blood of a Hamish-man.”

  “Be he thin or be he thick,” chanted Thomas, “he’s eaten so much cake he’s gonna be sick.”

  Hamish, who was certainly looking rather green, glared at them.

  3. On the Carpet

  As part of their project on mountains, Mr Majeika was taking Class Three to a museum where they could see some of the things from the famous expedition to climb Mount Everest.

  “What a bore,” said Hamish Bigmore.

  The day of the outing started badly. It was pouring with rain, and the bus that was to take Class Three was late in arriving at St Barty’s. Mr Potter was cross with the driver for keeping everyone waiting, and the driver was even crosser with Mr Potter, because he said he had been given the name of the wrong school, and it was Mr Potter’s fault.

  At last they were all on board, and Mr Potter waved goodbye to them all. But no

  sooner had they driven away from St Barty’s than Melanie started to cry and said she was feeling sick. Mr Majeika asked the driver to stop the bus, and Melanie got out. But she wasn’t sick, she just got soaked with rain. She got back on the bus, and off they all went again.

  This happened twice more, until at last Mr Majeika told her they couldn’t go on stopping, and she would just have to put up with feeling sick until they got to the museum. This just made Melanie cry louder.

  Then it was discovered that Hamish Bigmore, who was sitting at the back, had been eating his way through the nicest things in all the packed lunches, which were in a big box next to his seat. Mr Majeika told him to go up to the front and stay there. But this was worse, because Hamish began to annoy the driver.

  First he said he wanted the radio on. When the driver had switched it on, Hamish told him to turn it off again because the music was boring. Next he said he wanted the cold air switched on, and then the hot air. Then he told the driver that they weren’t going the quickest way to the town where the museum was. And then he started to give him instructions on how to drive the bus.

  “You can overtake that car now, it’s not going very fast. You ought to change into a lower gear, then you could get up this hill quicker. And start your windscreen-wipers, it’s raining again. Watch out! You nearly hit that bike.”

  After a bit of this, the driver stopped the bus and said that either Hamish Bigmore got out and walked the rest of the way, or he wouldn’t drive another inch. Mr Majeika finally persuaded him to agree to go on if Hamish Bigmore sat in the middle of the bus, some distance from the driver, but not near the packed lunches.

  But even this wasn’t much good, because Hamish started shouting things to the driver at the top of his voice. “Look out, driver, you nearly knocked an old lady down! Call yourself a driver? You couldn’t even drive a lawnmower!”

  So no one was very surprised when the driver announced on reaching the museum: “If you think I’m going to take you lot back this evening, you’re very much mistaken.” With this, he drove off.

  “Oh dear,” said Mr Majeika. “But I’m sure he didn’t mean it. Come on, let’s go into the museum.”

  And off they went, and they had a very good day, except that Hamish broke into a glass-case containing a bar of chocolate that had been taken to the top of Everest, and ate some of it before the attendant could stop him. Mr Majeika had difficulty persuading the museum people not to call the police. “Can’t think why they’re making all that fuss,” said Hamish. “The rotten old chocolate was stale anyway.”

  When they came out of the museum it was still raining, and there was no sign of the bus. They waited for half an hour, but no bus turned up. “Oh dear,” said Mr Majeika, “I’m afraid the driver meant what he said.”

  “Couldn’t you telephone the bus company,” said Jody, “and ask them to send another bus?” Mr Majeika went to use the telephone in the museum, but it had closed, and none of the phone boxes in the area was working.

  “This is dreadful,” said Mr Majeika. “What are we going to do?” Melanie began to cry.

  “Why don’t you take us back by magic?” said Pete.

  “I’d love to,” said Mr Majeika. “But I don’t know any spells that would take a whole classful of children on a fifty-mile journey.”

  “I know,” said Jody. “A magic carpet. That would do it.”

  Mr Majeika smiled. “Yes, I suppose it would, if I happened to have one here, and it was big enough. But my own magic carpet is tucked away in a cupboard at home, and, anyway, it’s far too small.”

  “What makes a carpet into a magic carpet?” asked Thomas.

  “Just spells,” said Mr Majeika. “But rather a lot of them.”

  “So any carpet would do?” said Jody.

  “I suppose so,” said Mr Majeika, “if you had the time and the patience to say all the spells.”

  “There’s a huge carpet in the entrance hall of the museum,” said Jody. “A lovely, big Eastern carpet with fantastic patterns of animals and snakes and magical beasts. And it’s quite big enough for us all to sit on.”

  Mr Majeika smiled. “It sounds just the thing,” he said. “But the museum is locked up now, and, anyway, after all the trouble Hamish caused, they wouldn’t take kindly to my borrowing their carpet.”

  “Surely,” said Pete, “you know some spells to open locked doors, Mr Majeika?”

  Mr Majeika thought for a moment. “Well, yes, I do, but they’d have burglar alarms that would go off, and, besides, it would be stealing.”

  “You could get the carpet out in a minute or two,” said Jody, “and you could bring it back tomorrow. Oh, do try, Mr Majeika.”

  Mr Majeika looked worried. “It’ll take more than a minute to say all the spells,” he said. Then his face brightened. “I’ve got it!” he said. “I can say the spells while the door is still locked, so that by the time we go in there, the carpet will already be magic, and I’ll only have to give the command and it will rise into the air. And I suppose you’re right about it not being stealing. Anyway, a proper magic carpet always returns to the place it’s come from. You just have to give it the command ‘Home!’ and off it goes.”

  “Hurray,” said Thomas. “That’s all easy then. Come on, Mr Majeika, what are we waiting for?”

  Looking rather nervous, Mr Majeika assembled all Class Three on the museum steps, then shut his eyes, muttered lots of words and waved his hands at the museum doors. The doors began to shake, and then suddenly sprang open.

  Everyone cheered – but then a bell began to ring. “The burglar alarm!” gasped Mr Majeika. “Quick, or the police will catch us. Hurry, hurry!”

  Everyone ran in through the doors and sat down on the carpet. “This is stupid,” grumbled Hamish. “Whoever heard of a flying carpet? Oooops!” He fell on his back as the carpet, under Mr Majeika’s instructions, began to rise swiftly into the air.

  “Three cheers for Mr Majeika!” shouted Thomas. “We’ll be back at school in no time!”

  “We’ll be somewhere in no time,” said Pete, “but it may be prison. Look!” With its blue light flashing and siren wailing, a large police car was drawing up outside the museum.

  “Quick!” called Mr Majeika to the carpet. “Fast as you can! Take us home!” The carpet zoomed out of the museum door and over the heads of the astonished policemen.

  “Blimey, sarge,” said one of them, “did you see what I saw, or was there something funny in that tea we’ve been drinking?”

  The carpet was high above the museum
now, whizzing through the pouring rain. Melanie said she was feeling carpet-sick and started to cry, but everyone else was loving it.

  After a few minutes, Jody said: “Mr Majeika, isn’t that the sea down there?”

  Mr Majeika peered over the edge of the carpet. “Yes, Jody,” he said. “We’re going very fast, it shouldn’t be long now.”

  “But we oughtn’t to be crossing the sea to get to St Barty’s,” said Jody. “The carpet is going in the wrong direction.”

  “Oh dear,” said Mr Majeika, “I must have given it the wrong instructions. Now, what did I say?”

  “You said ‘Take us home’,” said Pete.

  “How very silly of me,” said Mr Majeika. “The carpet is taking us to its home – across the sea, to the Eastern land where it was made.”

  “That sounds much more fun than St Barty’s,” said Jody.

  “Yes,” said Mr Majeika, “but Mr Potter and your mums and dads won’t be very pleased if you land up somewhere in the Far East, and they have to come and fetch you. I must give the carpet some more instructions.” He cleared his throat. “I’m frightfully sorry,” he said to the carpet, “but this isn’t quite what I wanted. Could you please take me to my home?”

  The carpet stopped in mid-air, then zoomed off – upwards. It was like being in a very fast lift. Everyone said “Oooooo!” and clutched their stomachs, and Melanie cried even more. Even Mr Majeika looked pale.

  “What’s it doing?” shouted Thomas over the noise of rushing air. “Why are we going up into the sky?”

  Mr Majeika slapped himself on his forehead. “I’m an idiot,” he said. “It’s not taking us to St Barty’s, but to my real home, the land in the sky where the wizards come from. This is dreadful! All the other wizards are going to be very cross if I suddenly arrive with a party of schoolchildren. Stop!” he shouted to the carpet. The carpet stopped.

  “I must describe St Barty’s,” said Mr Majeika. “Then the carpet will know where I mean.” He thought for a moment, then he said: “Please would you take us to a big building surrounded by a high wall with railings?” The carpet immediately started to move.

  “Are you sure you’ve told it enough, Mr Majeika?” asked Jody. “There are a lot of buildings that look like that.”

  “Oh dear, I suppose there are,” said Mr Majeika. “But it’s not easy to say what the school looks like. Ah, we’re arriving now.”

  They were indeed arriving, but not at St Barty’s. They had landed on the lawn of a big building surrounded by iron railings – a very big building.

  “This looks familiar,” said Thomas. “I’m sure I’ve seen it somewhere before.”

  “And what do you think you’re doing?” said a voice. It was a lady in a coat, with a scarf over her head, and two dogs on leads.

  “Are we anywhere near St Barty’s?” asked Mr Majeika.

  “Certainly not,” said the woman. “Now, be off with you, before I call my guards.”

  “Get us out of here, please,” said Mr Majeika to the carpet, which obediently took off again. “I wonder who she was,” he said, when they were well clear of the garden.

  “Didn’t you recognize her, Mr Majeika?” asked Jody. “It was the Queen.”

  “Oh dear,” sighed Mr Majeika, “this is proving a bothersome business. I’ll have to try again. Now listen,” he said to the carpet, “we need to get back to school, do you understand?” The carpet gave a sort of shake, which seemed to mean “Yes”, and off they went again.

  “The Queen didn’t seem surprised to see a magic carpet,” said Thomas.

  “I expect she’s got one of her own,” said Mr Majeika. “In the old days, kings and queens always had magic carpets, though they kept fairly quiet about it. Ah, this looks more hopeful – I think the carpet is taking us to the right place this time.”

  Certainly they were landing somewhere that looked much more like St Barty’s. But it wasn’t quite the same. The school buildings looked very grim, and in the playground some children in very old-fashioned clothes were being marched up and down by a fierce-looking woman with a cane.

  “Classes One and Two!” she was shouting. “Indoors at once and eat up your gruel. This afternoon you have to learn the names and dates of all the kings and queens of England, and anyone who makes a mistake in the test will be given a taste of this. Class Three! Where is Class Three?”

  “Er, here,” said Mr Majeika nervously.

  “Ssh, Mr Majeika,” said Jody, “she doesn’t mean us. Can the carpet take us for journeys in time as well as distance?”

  “Oh, certainly,” said Mr Majeika. “But you don’t think-?”

  “That explains it," said Jody. "We’re back in Victorian times. This is what St Barty’s used to be like.”

  The woman marched up to Class Three. “On your feet when I’m speaking to you!” she roared. “And who is this person?” She pointed at Mr Majeika.

  “It’s our teacher, Mr Majeika,” said Thomas.

  “Teacher? This isn’t Class Three’s teacher,” snapped the woman. “Class Three is taken by Miss Barebones. Ah, here she comes now.” And an even fiercer woman, also carrying a cane under her arm, began to march out of the school building.

  “Quick!" said Mr Majeika to the carpet. "Get us out of this!" The carpet rose in the air, and though the two teachers shouted and waved their canes, it had taken off before they could grab hold of it. "Now," said Mr Majeika anxiously, "please take us forwards in time again.”

  Everything went very black and whirry, and Class Three shut their eyes. When they opened them, they saw that the carpet was again landing in a school playground. At least, they could recognize it as a playground, because there was a climbing-frame and a netball post. But everything else looked very different.

  The school buildings were modern and shiny, and everywhere there were lights flashing on and off, and strange beeping sounds. A big digital noticeboard said:

  ST BARTY’S HI-TECH SCHOOL

  Date: 5 February 2091 Time: 16.48

  Tomorrow’s timetable:

  The St Barty’s Astronauts will be racing St

  James’s Astronauts to the planet Mars.

  Class Three will go on an expedition to the Antarctic, in the school

  mini-nuclear-submarine. Dinner menu:

  nutrition capsules and recycled water.

  “Goodness,” said Mr Majeika. “I think we’ve gone rather too far forward in time.”

  “Give your names and identification numbers,” said a mechanical voice. A

  robot was walking towards them from one of the school buildings, its eyes flashing and strange whirring noises coming from its head. Under its arm it carried a large spanner.

  “I think that’s the head teacher,” said Jody. “And I don’t like the look of that spanner – if we’re not careful, we’ll be dismantled. I don’t think things look much nicer in the future than in Victorian times.”

  “Come on, Mr Majeika,” said Thomas.

  “Do your best to get us back to the real St Barty’s.”

  “I’ll try to,” said Mr Majeika anxiously. “Carpet! Please take us to the real St Barty’s!”

  Everything went black again, and the carpet whizzed them round and round. When it came to a halt, they saw they were in the middle of open countryside, in front of a rather tumbledown building made of sticks and mud.

  “This is getting ridiculous,” said Pete. “Wherever are we now? How could this possibly be the real St Barty’s?”

  “Wait!” said Jody. “Someone’s coming out.” An old man in a rough cloak was shuffling out of the building with the help of a stick.

  “Greetings,” he said in a wheezy voice. “And what can I do for you, my children? Do you need warts cured, or broken limbs mended, or witches’ curses removed? Just tell me, and I’ll do my best.”

  “Who on earth is he?” whispered Thomas.

  "He looks rather like a wizard," whispered Mr Majeika. Aloud, he said to the old man: "Excuse me, sir, but what is your
name?"

  “Bartholomew,” answered the old man.

  “Though some people call me Barty.”

  “Not Saint Barty?” asked Jody breathlessly.

  The old man smiled. “I’m no saint,” he said. “But folk round here do call me that when I’ve worked cures for them, or done some other little thing.”

  “We come from hundreds of years in the future,” said Thomas, “and our school is named after you.”

  The old man scratched his head. “Who’d have thought it?” he said, smiling. “So you’re from a distant time, are you? Best be getting back there, I reckon.”

  “We’d love to,” said Mr Majeika. “But every time I tell our magic carpet to take us there, we land up somewhere else. We want to get back to St Barty’s School in the year 1991, but I just can’t make the carpet understand.”

  "Let’s see what a few quiet words will do," said the old man, and he bent over and muttered at the carpet, which quivered in reply. "Off you go now!" called the old man to Class Three, and the carpet lifted them up in the air. "Think of me, now and then!"

  Everything went black, and they were whirred around as before. But this time when the carpet landed, they were back at school, and Mr Potter was coming out of the school building, looking anxiously at his watch.

  “Ah, there you are, Majeika,” he said. “I was getting worried about you. The bus company rang up to say that the bus had been delayed by a puncture, and when it reached the museum you weren’t there. How did you get home?”

  “By magic carpet,” said Mr Majeika. “I mean, er, magically easily.”

  “We met St Barty, Mr Potter,” said Jody.

  “You don’t say?” said Mr Potter vaguely, disappearing towards his office.

  “That old man really must have been a wizard,” said Mr Majeika, “to get the carpet to bring us back here. I wonder what he said to it?”

  “I heard him,” said Hamish Bigmore. “He said, ‘Take them back to St Barty’s School in the year 1991.’ ”