The Clumsies Make a Mess of the School. Sorrel Anderson

       shouted the woman. ‘WATCH YOURSELF, LADDIE!’ She skidded to a halt and dismounted. ‘They’re not allowed to ride them in the corridors so I’ve confiscated it, temporarily,’ she said, tapping the scooter. ‘But I couldn’t resist a little go; they are my corridors, after all.’

      ‘Are they?’ said Howard, sounding surprised.

      ‘In a manner of speaking,’ said the woman. ‘I am the

      Headmistress of this establishment: JB Undercracker, at your service.’ She clicked her heels and thrust out a hand, so Howard shook it.

      ‘Right,’ said JB Undercracker, briskly. ‘Who are you and what do you want?’

      ‘I’ve come with a message,’ said Howard.

      ‘Oh yes?’ said JB Undercracker.

      ‘Actually, several,’ said Howard.

      ‘Oh yes?’ said JB Undercracker.

      ‘Actually one, but it’s got several parts,’ said Howard.

      JB Undercracker narrowed her eyes.

      ‘Spill,’ she said.

      ‘Sorry?’ said Howard.

      ‘The beans, sonny,’ said JB Undercracker. ‘Spill ’em.’

      ‘Right,’ said Howard. ‘Well, it’s Mr Bullerton…’

      ‘Delighted to meet you, Mr

      Bullerton,’ said JB Undercracker.

      ‘No, no,’ said Howard. ‘I…’

      ‘We are making good progress, aren’t we?’ she said. ‘And now we’ve established the who you are part of the equation, let’s tackle the what do you want. To what do we owe the pleasure?’

      Howard mopped his brow.

      ‘It’s about your he said.

      ‘AAGGH!’ she , and Howard jumped. ‘We’re so excited. The children have been preparing for WEEKS.’

      ‘That’s good,’ said Howard, ‘because he, Mr Bullerton I mean, the real one, not me, is going to be St Apricot’s Guest of Honour.’

      ‘Super. Now look at this,’ said JB Undercracker, fiddling with the scooter. ‘It’s got a very interesting mechanism.’

      ‘Err, yes,’ said Howard. ‘So as I was saying, he’s importantly making some time for a speech and, and prizes and… busy schedule…’

      ‘I’ve always wondered how these things worked,’ said JB Undercracker, spinning the wheel.

      ‘That was parts one and two of the message,’ said Howard, pressing on, ‘and part three was to tell you you’re lucky.’

      ‘Aren’t we just,’ said JB Undercracker, beaming. ‘Is that everything?’

      ‘I think so,’ said Howard.

      ‘No, it isn’t,’ hissed Purvis, from inside the bag. ‘You’ve forgotten the plinths, cordials etc.’

      ‘OH, YES!’

      shouted Howard, ‘I nearly forgot. We’ll be needing some plinths and cordials.’

      ‘Plinths?’ said JB Undercracker.

      ‘And cordials,’ nodded Howard.

      ‘Etc,’ hissed Purvis.

       hissed Howard, hurriedly stuffing the bag behind his back. JB Undercracker gave him a funny look.

      ‘There might be a bottle of orange squash in the kitchen,’ she said. ‘Would that be of any use?’

      ‘It’s a start,’ said Howard.

      ‘Or I’ll tell you what, how about a nice cup of tea instead? You look as though you could do with one.’

      ‘Yes please,’ croaked Howard.

      ‘Good man,’ said JB Undercracker, slapping him on the back. ‘Leave the bag in my office and come with me.’

      ‘I’d prefer to keep hold of it, thank you,’ said Howard.

      ‘Nonsense,’ said JB Undercracker. ‘It’s far too big. What’s in it?’

      ‘NOTHING,’

      shouted Howard. ‘Nothing at all.’

      ‘Well in that case you won’t be needing it, will you?’ she said, wrestling it from him, and flinging it into a nearby room. ‘Come along, Mr Bullerton.’ She climbed onto the scooter and shot off up the corridor, with Howard trotting worriedly behind.

       said the mice, and went Ortrud, as the big bag landed with a bump on the floor of JB Undercracker’s office.

      Mickey Thompson heaved a disappointed-sounding sigh.

      ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Purvis.

      ‘Well, if they’ve gone for a cup of tea they’ll probably be having a biscuit or something, won’t they?’ he said.

      ‘Possibly,’ said Purvis.

      ‘Or a slice of cake.’

      ‘You never know,’ said Purvis.

      ‘Or a little sandwich, even.’

      ‘Your

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