Lottie Luna and the Giant Gargoyle Page 2

  Lottie gulped. What should she say? But, before she could think of an answer, the bell rang for afternoon school, and the head teacher jumped up from her desk.

  ‘Goodness! Is that the time? I’m meant to be teaching the little ones in five minutes! Off you go, Lottie, and don’t forget to discuss your problem with your mother and father.’

  Wilf and Marjory were waiting impatiently outside the head teacher’s office. As Lottie came out, they bounced towards her.

  ‘What did she say?’ Marjory asked.

  Lottie sighed. ‘She gave me the invitation, and said I should talk to Ma and Pa.’

  ‘Well … you could just not hand it over to them,’ Wilf said cheerfully.

  Lottie was shocked by the suggestion. ‘But what if Madam Grubeloff found out?’

  ‘I don’t see how she would.’ Wilf scratched his head. ‘When they don’t turn up at the talent show, she’ll just assume they were busy or something.’

  Marjory gave Lottie a sympathetic smile. ‘Why don’t you at least think about it for a bit?’

  ‘And, in the meantime, you can help us practise our magic act!’ Wilf bowed low, then spun round in a circle. ‘Ladies and gentlemen! Behold the Two Incredibles! We have such amazing tricks that you won’t believe your eyes! Wonderful Wilf and Marvellous Marjory will dazzle you in every way! And assisting us on this special occasion we have … what begins with L? Oh! I know! Legendary Lottie!’

  Lottie shoved the invitation into her school bag, and grinned at Wilf. ‘I like that!’ And the three friends linked arms as they made their way back to class.

  To everyone’s delight, Mrs Wilkolak ended lessons early. ‘You can have five minutes to chat about your act,’ she said. ‘But please keep the noise down. I know it’s all very exciting – but we don’t want to disturb the rest of the school!’

  Aggie put up her hand. ‘I know exactly what I’m going to do, Mrs Wilkolak. I’ve already started. I read a story about a noble werewolf girl who rescued a little werewolf cub, and I’m writing a poem about it.’

  Wilf winked at Marjory and Lottie. ‘I can’t wait to hear that poem … not!’

  ‘To be fair, she does write good poems,’ Marjory said, and Lottie nodded in agreement.

  ‘Well, I think they’re boring,’ Wilf told them, ‘although I suppose it might be the dreary way she recites them. But we ought to be thinking about the rabbit-out-of-the-hat trick! Hopper got a bit wild last time. I think the top hat was too small.’

  Marjory giggled. ‘It absolutely was.’ A doubtful expression came over her face. ‘Didn’t you say he’d got even fatter recently, Wilf?’

  ‘Mmmm.’ Wilf pulled at his ear. ‘We’ll need a bigger top hat. I wonder where we could find one?’

  ‘My dad might have one,’ Lottie said eagerly. ‘He’s got an enormous head. I’ll ask him tonight.’

  ‘Fantastic!’ Wilf beamed at her. ‘Well done, Legendary Lottie!’

  ‘Everybody back in their seats!’ Mrs Wilkolak clapped her hands. ‘We don’t want to be late for the Evening Howl.’

  Lottie hurried back to her place. She loved the Evening Howl. It was a Shadow Academy tradition; the whole school met in the Great Hall, and Madam Grubeloff led them in a wonderful howl of thanks for the day.

  Mrs Wilkolak waited until everyone was settled, and then she went on. ‘For homework, I’d like you to write three hundred words describing the act you’re going to perform. Think hard about what you’ve chosen, and make sure you give your act a snappy title.’

  ‘I’m going to be the Tuneful Trumpeter!’ Ava said, and two of the boys announced that they were the Tumbling Twins.

  ‘I already know what I’m going to call my poem,’ Aggie said. ‘“The Heroic Tale of Awesome Agatha”.’

  Wilf rolled his eyes at Lottie and Marjory. ‘Bet Mrs Wilkolak goes to sleep again!’

  ‘No whispering, Wilf!’ Mrs Wilkolak frowned at him. ‘Now … get ready to line up at the door.’

  As Lottie and her friends walked down the long corridor to the Great Hall, she was thinking about the competition. Half of her was excited, but the other half was still worrying about her parents. Did she dare to keep the invitation a secret? It didn’t feel right.

  I’ll decide tonight when I get home, she told herself, and at that moment Madam Grubeloff came sweeping on to the stage, her black-and-silver gown shining under the twinkling lights that hung on every wall.

  ‘Good evening, everybody,’ she said. ‘I want to say a word about the talent show at the end of this term. Although this year it will be a competition, I want every one of you to enjoy the experience, and not to worry about whether you win or not. It’s a wonderful opportunity for you to share your talents not only with one another, but also with our invited audience of parents and carers and grandparents – and to show them how each and every one of you is very special.’

  Lottie swallowed hard. Was the head teacher looking directly at her? She couldn’t be certain, but butterflies began to dance in her stomach.

  ‘And now let us have our Evening Howl. Please prepare.’ Madam Grubeloff moved to the centre of the stage, and as Lottie took Wilf and Marjory’s hands they smiled at each other.

  ‘Wooooooooo!’ The head teacher began the Howl, and one by one the teachers and students joined in. The sound filled the Great Hall, and echoed back from the silvery ceiling where a painted full moon glimmered … and Lottie took a deep breath.

  I’m so lucky to be here, she thought. And I’m sure everything will turn out all right. It’s such a lovely school, and I have the best friends ever.

  As Lottie came dashing through the door to the castle kitchen that evening, she all but crashed into her mother, who was filling a jug of water.

  Her brother, who was standing close by, laughed, but Queen Mila sighed. ‘I do wish you’d learn not to rush everywhere, Lottie. I nearly dropped the jug!’

  ‘Rush? Rush? Who’s rushing?’ King Lupo had come in from his office. ‘A member of the royal family should always be calm and dignified in every way.’

  ‘Yes, Pa.’ Lottie smiled at her father. As she did so, she remembered Wilf’s request. ‘Pa! I don’t suppose you’ve got a top hat I could borrow? Please?’

  ‘A top hat?’ The king looked surprised. ‘Have you forgotten that I’m a king, Lottie? A king always wears a crown!’

  Queen Mila had been listening. ‘I think there might be an old top hat in the attic, Lottie, dear. What did you want it for?’

  Lottie suddenly realised she was on dangerous ground. ‘Erm … it’s for Wilf, Ma. He wants to be a magician, and he needs it so he can practise his tricks.’

  ‘Well, your father certainly doesn’t need it.’ Queen Mila put a huge cheese pie on the table. ‘I’ll help you to look for it after supper.’

  ‘Thanks, Ma.’ Lottie gave her mother a grateful smile, but King Lupo cleared his throat.

  ‘Ahem! I hope that you have no intention of joining in with your friend, Lottie! I would thoroughly disapprove if any daughter of mine was to end up as a magician.’

  ‘Oh, Pa! It’s only a bit of fun—’ Lottie began, but her mother gave her a warning glance as she began to serve the pie.

  ‘No arguing at the table,’ she said. ‘Lottie, dear, why don’t you tell us what you did at school today?’

  Lottie sighed. ‘We worked on our lunar diaries,’ she said, and her father immediately launched into a long and boring description of his own school days. As he talked, Lottie ate her cheese pie, thinking about the talent show. Her father’s fierce disapproval of magic had shaken her, and by the time she had finished and was helping to clear away the dishes she had made up her mind.

  I’m not going to give them the invitation. It’s not worth it. What if Pa said something horrid to Wilf and Marjory? I’d feel really terrible. And as soon as supper was over and tidied away Lottie hid the envelope in her bedside cabinet.

  That night Lottie didn’t sleep very well. Although she’d made up her mind, she was co
nscious of an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Despite his insistence on kingliness, she loved her father dearly, and her mother too.

  Just before bedtime the queen had taken Lottie up to the attic, and helped her look through the dusty old chests until they found the top hat.

  Queen Mila had even wondered if Wilf needed anything else. ‘Has he got a rabbit?’ she asked, and when Lottie nodded her mother had given her a huge smile. ‘What fun! Maybe he could come to tea one day and show us his tricks? Even if your father’s not keen on magic, I’d like to see it.’

  Lottie, suffering a terrible pang of guilt, had agreed it would be fun, and the queen handed her a sparkly green waistcoat. ‘Here! I’m sure Wilf would look like a real magician in this!’

  The next day Lottie walked slowly to school, and she couldn’t help noticing that her moonstone necklace was looking cloudy and dull. Jaws sat on her shoulder to comfort her, but even his encouraging squeaks didn’t cheer her up.

  She didn’t feel any better when she reached Shadow Academy. All her classmates were wildly excited because Madam Grubeloff had sent out the invitations the night before. One after another they came bouncing into the classroom to report how delighted their parents or grandparents or carers had been when they opened the envelope.

  ‘My gran wants to sit in the front row,’ Wilf told Marjory and Lottie.

  Marjory nodded. ‘My mum’s coming too, and all my brothers and sisters. Well … not the baby. She’s going to stay with a neighbour.’

  Mrs Wilkolak smiled. ‘That’s very thoughtful of your mother. What about you, Lottie? Are your parents coming?’

  Lottie found that she was blushing. ‘I … I’m not quite sure yet,’ she said. ‘They … they’re thinking about it.’ Much to her relief, she was saved from any further questions by Aggie, who pushed past her to stand in front of the teacher.

  ‘My father and mother are definitely coming,’ she announced. ‘My father says that when I win he’s going to make a special plinth at home for the giant gargoyle trophy. It’ll be in the centre of our hall!’

  Mrs Wilkolak raised an eyebrow. ‘Shouldn’t you say IF you win, Aggie?’

  ‘Oh, yes. If I win.’ But Aggie didn’t sound as if she meant it.

  ‘Everyone sit down, please.’ Mrs Wilkolak tapped a ruler on her desk. ‘If you work very hard, I might – just might! – let you rehearse this afternoon!’

  Lottie was very quiet all morning. At lunchtime, Marjory put an arm round her, and asked, ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Lottie told her, and then she added, ‘I’m just a bit sad that Ma won’t see your magic act.’

  ‘So have you decided not to give her and your pa the invitation?’ Wilf wanted to know.

  ‘I think so.’ Lottie squirmed in her seat. ‘I feel mean for not inviting them, but at the same time I really, REALLY don’t want them to come and everyone to find out.’

  Wilf grinned at her. ‘It’ll be okay. Madam Grubeloff will never know.’

  ‘Yes … but that’s making me feel bad too.’ Lottie shook her head. ‘I’m in a terrible muddle about it all.’

  Marjory looked sympathetic. ‘There’s still time to change your mind.’

  ‘Change your mind about what?’ Aggie was taking her lunch tray back to the counter, and had overheard. ‘Hasn’t our super-clever Lottie Luna thought of anything yet?’ And, with a haughty sniff, she moved away.

  Wilf made a face at her back. ‘We’ve absolutely GOT to beat Awful Aggie,’ he said, ‘even if we don’t actually win, Marjory. I brought in all the tricks … and Mrs Wilkolak says we can rehearse this afternoon.’

  Lottie brightened a little. ‘Can I come and watch? I’ve got the top hat for you – and a sparkly waistcoat!’

  Unlike the morning, the afternoon went by in a flash. Wilf was delighted with his waistcoat and insisted on wearing it immediately. ‘It’s perfect for our magical hankie trick,’ he said, and he pulled a yellow handkerchief out of his bag and handed it to Marjory. She showed it to Lottie, and then – ‘ABRACADABRA!’ Wilf tapped the handkerchief with his wand. Marjory twisted it in between her fingers – and it turned exactly the same green as the waistcoat.

  ‘Wow!’ Lottie was genuinely impressed. ‘How did you do that?’

  Wilf grinned. ‘One colour inside the other. It’s our best trick. We sometimes get the others a bit wrong.’

  ‘Look at this one,’ Marjory said, and she dived into Wilf’s bag and brought out three silver rings, all linked together. She threw them to Wilf, and he waved his wand before dropping them with a crash.

  ‘Oooops!’ he said. ‘They’re meant to separate.’ He picked the rings up, and frowned at them. ‘They’re ever so tricky.’

  Five minutes later, the rings still hadn’t separated. Wilf was getting more and more frustrated, and even Marjory was getting cross. Trying to calm the situation, Lottie asked, ‘What else can you do?’

  ‘I can do a couple of card tricks,’ Wilf said, ‘and Marjory’s really good at mending the cut rope. Much the best bit is the grand finale when Hopper pops out of the hat. I didn’t bring him, though.’

  Lottie giggled. ‘Just as well! Mrs Wilkolak would have gone mad if you had.’

  Wilf looked thoughtful. ‘That was what went wrong last time … but now we’ve got a decent-sized hat it should be loads easier. I know you’re going to do your own act, Lottie, but could you look after Hopper until Marjory and I need him?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Lottie said.

  As the bell went for the end of lessons, Mrs Wilkolak tapped on her desk. ‘Attention, please! I hope you’ve all had a useful rehearsal time. Are there any problems? Anything I can help with?’

  Nobody seemed to have any worries, but Aggie put up her hand. ‘Please, Mrs Wilkolak – who’s going to judge the competition? Will it be someone famous?’

  Mrs Wilkolak peered over the top of her spectacles. ‘I assume it’ll be Madam Grubeloff.’

  Aggie looked disappointed. ‘Couldn’t it be a celebrity? My father’s going to bring his camera so he can take pictures.’

  ‘Pictures of her winning, she means,’ Wilf whispered to Lottie and Marjory.

  Several of the other students had begun to look interested, and Ava called out, ‘Why doesn’t Madam Grubeloff ask the new king and queen? My mum says the old king came to her school when she was little and handed out the prizes.’ She giggled. ‘He got all the names mixed up. He called my mum Snorer instead of Nora!’

  That made the whole class laugh, except for Lottie. She was trying hard not to look anxious.

  ‘That’s a nice idea, Ava,’ Mrs Wilkolak said. ‘But I’m sure the royal family are much too busy to judge a school competition.’

  ‘But we could ask, couldn’t we?’ Aggie was getting more and more excited.

  ‘We’ll let Madam Grubeloff decide,’ Mrs Wilkolak said firmly, and Aggie was quiet until it was time to go to the Great Hall for the Evening Howl. Taking Ava’s hand, Aggie hurried her ahead of the rest of the class, whispering to her as they went. No one else would have known what she was saying, but Lottie’s extra-sharp hearing meant she heard every word.

  ‘You know what, Ava? That was SUCH a brilliant idea of yours! Why don’t we go and see Madam Grubeloff tomorrow, and ask if the king and queen can judge the competition?’

  Before Lottie could hear anything more, the girls had turned the corner of the corridor, and Ava’s answer was lost.

  Lottie shook her head. It was always difficult when her amazing hearing meant she knew something that other people weren’t even aware of – was it unfair to take advantage of her special talents? This time, however, she needed her friends’ advice, and she turned to Wilf and Marjory. ‘Aggie wants to ask Madam Grubeloff if Pa and Ma can be the judges!’

  Wilf and Marjory stared at Lottie. They knew she could hear things that they couldn’t, but even so Marjory couldn’t help asking, ‘Are you sure?’

  Lottie nodded. ‘Certain. Oh … what am I going to d
o if Madam Grubeloff says yes?’

  Marjory scratched her head. ‘Maybe we could go and see Madam Grubeloff too, and say we really want her to be the judge? After all, she’s the head teacher, and she knows us.’

  ‘What about a vote?’ Wilf suggested. ‘If the audience vote, that makes it fairer.’

  ‘That’s a much better idea,’ Marjory said. ‘What do you think, Lottie?’

  ‘It’s worth trying,’ Lottie agreed. ‘Let’s go tomorrow morning before lessons start.’

  Wilf gave her a high five. ‘It’s a plan!’

  The next morning was bright and clear, and as Lottie ran along the path to school she was thinking about the evening before. She had very nearly given her mother the invitation, but then over supper her father had asked her why she didn’t wear a silk or satin dress to school.

  ‘You don’t present yourself in the manner that a princess should, Lottie,’ he had said. ‘I’m sure your teachers wonder at you!’

  Queen Mila had come to Lottie’s defence, and explained that silks and satins would be most unsuitable, but that had been enough for Lottie to make up her mind.

  I can’t invite them. I just can’t!

  Wilf and Marjory were waiting for her by the gates, and she greeted them with hugs.

  ‘Have you thought of what you’re going to do for the competition?’ Marjory asked.

  Lottie shook her head. ‘Not yet. I was wondering about choosing something so that I could disguise myself, and then Ma and Pa could come and they wouldn’t recognise me. What do you think?’

  Wilf grinned. ‘Perhaps you could be a gargoyle!’ and he did his best imitation of a dancing gargoyle as they walked along the corridor to the head teacher’s study.