Lottie Luna and the Giant Gargoyle Page 3

  As they reached the door, Marjory asked, ‘Are you ready to face Madam Grubeloff?’

  Lottie nodded. ‘I’m ready.’

  But the next minute the door opened, and Aggie and Ava came marching out. Aggie stuck her nose in the air as she passed the three friends, and Lottie heard her say, ‘I bet they’ll never guess what we’ve been sorting out!’

  Ava nodded. ‘We’d better practise curtseying, Aggie!’

  Lottie’s heart sank into her boots. Had the head teacher agreed to ask her parents already? Her hand was trembling as she knocked on the door, and Madam Grubeloff called, ‘Come in!’

  She felt even more nervous when the head teacher smiled at her, and said, ‘Lottie! What excellent timing. I was going to ask you to come and see me, and here you are – and Wilf and Marjory too. A couple of students have just suggested that we ask your parents to judge the competition. I’d intended to be the judge myself, but I can see that it would make the occasion very special. So, do tell me – can your parents come?’

  Lottie swallowed. ‘Ummmmm …’ she said, wishing that the floor would open and swallow her up. ‘That is … I haven’t quite got round to giving them the invitation yet.’

  Madam Grubeloff raised her eyebrows, and there was a steely sound to her voice as she asked, ‘And are you intending to give it to them?’

  Lottie’s mind was whirling. What should she say? There wasn’t much time to think on her feet, and so she simply said, ‘I’ll give it to them tonight, Madam Grubeloff.’

  ‘Good.’ The head teacher was still looking stern. ‘I’m not sure why you haven’t given it to them already, but I imagine this is all to do with your not wanting to be recognised as a princess?’

  ‘Yes, Madam Grubeloff. I’m sorry.’

  Madam Grubeloff considered for a moment, and then said, ‘I really think it’s time that you accepted the situation, Lottie. Give your parents the invitation tonight, and come and see me tomorrow morning with their answer.’

  Marjory stepped forward. ‘Please – couldn’t there be a vote from the audience instead?’

  Wilf nodded. ‘After all, it wouldn’t be very fair for Lottie’s parents to be judges when she’s part of the competition.’

  A tiny sliver of hope sprang up in Lottie’s mind as she waited for the answer. There was a pause … and then the head teacher stood up. ‘That’s a very good point, Wilf. Let me think about it.’ She gave a little nod of dismissal. ‘Good morning.’

  Wilf, Marjory and Lottie mumbled their thanks, and headed for the door. Once outside, Lottie leaned against the wall. ‘That was AWFUL!’ she said. ‘Madam Grubeloff made me feel like the most horrible worm ever.’

  ‘What do you think she’ll say to you tomorrow?’ Marjory asked, and Lottie sighed.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m dreading giving Ma and Pa the invitation.’

  ‘Keep your fingers crossed,’ Wilf told her. ‘You never know – they might be busy.’

  ‘They hardly ever go out anywhere,’ Lottie told him gloomily.

  Wilf beamed at her. ‘There you are, then. If they don’t like going out, they probably won’t want to come!’

  Marjory was looking at the clock on the wall. ‘Come on … we’d better get to class. The bell’s going to go any minute now!’

  When Lottie, Wilf and Marjory walked into the classroom, they found Aggie already standing by Mrs Wilkolak’s desk. ‘I’ve finished my poem,’ she announced. ‘And Mrs Wilkolak says I can recite it before lessons start.’ She took a deep breath.

  The poem went on and on. Aggie’s recitation was very flat and boring, and Wilf and several other students began to shift about in their seats, but Aggie kept going. The truly lovely heroine’s stepmother was mean and evil, but at last, despite every possible difficulty, Awesome Agatha triumphed. She was recognised by the world … and the stepmother was cast into the deepest, darkest dungeon.

  As Aggie reached the end, Mrs Wilkolak nodded. ‘Very well written, Aggie,’ she said, ‘although I think you could put more expression into the way you tell the story.’

  Aggie ignored this suggestion. ‘It was magnificent,’ she said. ‘I don’t suppose anyone else will be nearly as good as me.’

  ‘Everybody in this class is talented in one way or another, Agatha.’ Mrs Wilkolak wasn’t smiling any more. ‘And I like my students to praise each other, not praise themselves. Now, it’s time for maths. Please get out your notebooks.’

  It was a struggle for Lottie to get through the rest of the day’s lessons. The thought of giving her parents the invitation was a black cloud that hung over her, and it grew darker as the day went on. By the time she was on her way home, she was almost hoping a ferocious dragon would sweep down and carry her off, but no such creature appeared. Jaws did his best to cheer her up, but even his aerial gymnastics couldn’t make her smile.

  Queen Mila was, as always, busy in the kitchen when Lottie came in. Not giving herself time to reconsider her decision, Lottie hurried through the door that led to the spider-infested corridors and her bedroom. Grabbing the envelope from her bedside cabinet, she dashed back and handed it to the queen.

  ‘What’s this, dear?’ her mother asked as she opened the envelope.

  ‘It’s an invitation to the school talent show,’ Lottie told her. ‘It’s next week. Can you and Pa come?’ She crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping that the answer would be no, but the queen looked pleased as she studied the card. ‘I’d love to come! But it’ll depend on your father. Let’s see what he says.’

  Lottie sat down at the table. ‘Where is Pa?’

  ‘I think he might be polishing his crown,’ Queen Mila said, and as she spoke the door opened and King Lupo came in. He was frowning, and Lottie stifled a sigh.

  ‘Where did you get that polish from, Mila?’ he demanded. ‘It’s worse than useless. Just look!’ And he held out his crown for the queen to inspect.

  ‘Once you’ve put the polish on, you have to rub it off again, dear.’ Queen Mila took the crown, and gave it a quick wipe with a tea towel. ‘Look! It’s shining up beautifully!’

  ‘Oh.’ The king sat down with a thump. ‘You didn’t tell me.’

  ‘You didn’t ask, dear.’ The queen put the gleaming crown back on the king’s head. ‘Now, how would you like to go to Lottie’s school next week? We’ve been asked to go and watch the end-of-term talent show!’

  King Lupo inspected the invitation. ‘I see. And who, exactly, will be demonstrating their talents?’

  ‘Everyone in the school,’ Lottie told him.

  ‘That sounds fun,’ Queen Mila said. ‘What do you think, Lupo?’

  ‘Royalty should always support aspiring talent, especially in children,’ the king announced. ‘So, yes. We will attend. It will also give me the opportunity to observe how you are treated, Lottie. I have had my doubts ever since you started at Shadow Academy. From the little that you tell us, I suspect that the other pupils fail to treat you as the princess that you are. I have been seriously considering taking you out of that school, and employing a private tutor.’

  ‘What?’ Lottie went cold all over. Take her away from the wonderful Shadow Academy, and the best friends in the world? ‘You can’t, Pa! I LOVE school!’

  The king frowned. ‘I shall make my decision after this competition of yours, Lottie. If I see that you are treated in the right and appropriate fashion, then you may stay. But enough of that! Mila! What have we got for supper?’

  Lottie didn’t think she had ever been so miserable. She ate her supper without even noticing what it was, and escaped to her room as soon as she could.

  ‘Oh, Jaws,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be absolutely dreadful! Pa’s going to find out that no one treats me like a princess … because no one knows I AM one … and he’ll take me away! Oh, what can I do?’

  Lottie’s interview with Madam Grubeloff the following morning was very quick.

  ‘So your parents are coming?’ The head teacher looked pleased. ‘That’s spl
endid news! But I’ve come to a decision on the judging and I’m not going to ask them. I want to take up Wilf and Marjory’s suggestion, and ask the audience to choose the winner.’ The head teacher gave Lottie a questioning look. ‘I was thinking, though, that I would ask your parents if they’d be kind enough to present the trophy. You wouldn’t mind, would you?’

  Lottie did her best to smile, and curtseyed. ‘Of course not, Madam Grubeloff.’

  The classroom was buzzing as Lottie walked in. Mrs Wilkolak was writing a list of the different acts on the blackboard, and there was applause for each one. As Lottie sat down, Mrs Wilkolak asked, ‘Ah! Lottie! Have you decided what you’re doing?’

  Lottie blinked. She had been so unhappy the night before at the possibility of being taken away from her friends that she hadn’t really had a chance to think of anything else. She seized on the first idea that came to her.

  ‘I … I’m going to sing the Forest Song … the one we sing at the Evening Howl sometimes.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Mrs Wilkolak looked at the board, and smiled. ‘So that’s everybody. What a wonderful evening it’s going to be! Now, practise all you can this weekend, because on Monday you’ll be rehearsing in the Great Hall – don’t forget to bring any props you might need. And, if you want to bring your costumes to wear on Monday, please do – but it’s fine to wait until Tuesday if that’s easier. Is that all clear? Are there any questions?’

  Aggie put up her hand. ‘Please – has Madam Grubeloff asked the king and queen to come?’

  Mrs Wilkolak raised her eyebrows. ‘I’d prefer for you not to worry about things like that, Aggie. It’s much more important that your mothers and fathers and carers and grandparents enjoy themselves.’

  As soon as the bell rang for break, Wilf and Marjory pounced on Lottie. ‘Lottie! What is it? You look so unhappy! Was Madam Grubeloff very cross with you?’

  Lottie, fighting back tears, shook her head. ‘It’s much, MUCH worse than that. Pa’s threatening to take me away from Shadow Academy.’

  Her friends stared at her. ‘Why? What have you done?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Lottie said miserably. ‘It’s just this stupid royal thing. Ma and Pa are coming next Tuesday, and Pa wants to see everyone bowing and scraping to me and calling me Princess Lottie. He says that if I’m not being treated like a princess he’ll keep me at home with a tutor.’

  ‘WOWSERS! That’s … I don’t know what to say. That’s … that’s just the most terrible thing ever.’ Wilf was so upset that he could hardly speak.

  Marjory hugged Lottie hard. ‘We’ll think of something!’ she promised. ‘We absolutely HAVE to have you here! Oh, Lottie …’ and she hugged Lottie again.

  ‘So, what’s the amazing Lottie Luna done now?’ Aggie was strolling past, arm in arm with Ava. ‘Having second thoughts about singing a stupid school song?’

  ‘Lottie’s song’s going to be the best thing in the show!’ Wilf scowled at Aggie. ‘Come on, Lottie. We’ve got better things to do than talk to people who think they’re smarter than everyone else.’ And he, Lottie and Marjory hurried away down the corridor.

  ‘Thank you,’ Lottie said, and she took a deep breath as they reached the playground. ‘I can’t bear to think about it any more. It’s too awful … and I really, really, REALLY want to make the most of school while I’m still here. Could we just pretend that everything’s all right?’

  Marjory and Wilf nodded. ‘We’ll try.’

  Much to Lottie’s surprise, her mother was waiting for her at the castle door when she reached home that evening.

  ‘Lottie!’ Queen Mila was glowing with excitement. ‘You’ll never guess what’s happened!’

  Lottie swallowed. She had a sinking feeling that she did know, but she shook her head.

  ‘Your father and I have been invited to present the trophy at your school competition!’

  Doing her best to sound enthusiastic, Lottie said, ‘Oh! Ummmm … good.’

  ‘So,’ the queen went on, ‘I was thinking you ought to have something special to wear because you’re our daughter. I went to have a look in those chests where we found the top hat – I remembered I’d noticed some dresses there – and I’ve found the perfect outfit for you! Come and see!’

  Wondering what her mother might consider perfect, Lottie followed her along the corridor. The portraits of her ancestors looked even more depressed than usual, and she made a face at a particularly gloomy-looking girl in a hideous green ballgown. Her mother saw where she was looking, and gave a little shriek of delight.

  ‘Lottie! That’s it! That’s the dress I’ve chosen for you! And that pretty girl is your … what would she be now? A great-great-aunt perhaps?’ Queen Mila peered at the nameplate under the picture. ‘Princess Valottina, musical to the end. How lovely!’

  Lottie stared at her mother. ‘Ma! You don’t expect me to wear that, do you? It’s ghastly!’

  ‘Nonsense, Lottie!’ Her mother took her arm, and hurried her into the kitchen. Hanging on a cupboard was the green ballgown, and it looked even worse than it had in the portrait. Queen Mila beamed at Lottie.

  ‘Go and try it on, dear. Your father thinks it’s perfect!’

  Lottie took the ballgown, and trailed to her room. Not only was everyone going to find out that she was a princess, but they’d also see her dressed in the most horribly princessy garment she’d ever seen.

  She had just slipped the dress over her head, and was staring at her almost unrecognisable self in the mirror, when her mother came bustling in. ‘There! It’s a perfect fit!’ She stepped back, and inspected her drooping daughter. ‘Dear Lottie … do try to smile! Now, I just came to say that your father has decided that he and I will travel to the competition in the weremobile … Will you be able to come with us?’

  ‘I’ll be at school, Ma,’ Lottie said. ‘We’ve got a run-through on Tuesday afternoon.’

  ‘Oh, of course.’ The queen nodded. ‘Well – at least we’ll be able to come home together.’ She gave the ballgown a considering look. ‘I really believe that you’ll be the belle of the ball!’

  Lottie was too depressed to argue. She thanked her mother and then, as soon as the queen had left, put her usual clothes back on.

  I don’t think things could possibly get any worse, she thought, and she looked at her moonstone necklace. Just as she had expected, it was dull and colourless. That’s exactly how I feel.

  On Monday morning, as Lottie hurried through the school gates, she saw Wilf and Marjory carrying a large box between them.

  ‘We’ve got Hopper,’ Wilf said cheerfully.

  Lottie peered inside at the white rabbit who waggled his little pink nose back at her.

  ‘We thought we ought to rehearse with him today,’ Marjory told her.

  As always, Lottie felt better when she saw her friends, and the three of them walked into school together.

  Mrs Wilkolak was standing in the main hall, holding a list. When she saw Wilf and Marjory, she waved at them. ‘I’ve put you two first in the programme,’ she said. ‘I thought your rabbit might be better behaved if he’s not in his box for too long.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Wilf said. ‘Lottie’s going to look after him until he’s needed, so he should be okay.’

  ‘That sounds sensible.’ Mrs Wilkolak consulted her papers. ‘You’re at the end of the programme, Lottie. I’d like you to be last, if you don’t mind. I think the Forest Song will be a bit of a showstopper! Did you know it used to be the royal anthem? King Lupo will be thrilled.’

  Lottie opened her mouth to say that her father couldn’t tell the difference between one tune and another, but luckily she was interrupted.

  Aggie and Ava had come into the hall behind her, and Aggie’s eyes sharpened as she listened. Pushing forward, she asked, ‘The royal anthem?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Mrs Wilkolak nodded. ‘And I expect you want to know when you’re on, Aggie. I’ve put you just before Lottie. That will make such an excellent finale … first your poem, th
en Lottie with the Forest Song, and that wonderful chorus. Perhaps the king might even join in!’

  Aggie didn’t make any comment, but there was a thoughtful look on her face as she walked away.

  Lottie’s classroom was hardly recognisable when she came in. Two boys were juggling, three girls were doing handstands, Aggie was reciting with her hand on her heart, Ava was playing the trumpet – the noise was incredible – until Mrs Wilkolak came through the door and held up her hand for silence.

  ‘Good morning, class! I have some news for you. Madam Grubeloff has asked me to tell you that the competition will be judged by the audience.’

  ‘Oh … BOTHER!’

  Lottie heard Aggie’s exclamation very clearly, but Mrs Wilkolak didn’t seem to notice. ‘So, the audience will vote … but – and this is very exciting! – the giant gargoyle will be presented to the winner by none other than King Lupo and Queen Mila!’

  There was a delighted gasp from Aggie, and Ava gave a loud whoop. Looking round, Lottie saw that everyone was smiling, and she squashed a sigh.

  ‘In a moment or two we’ll be going to the Great Hall,’ the teacher went on. ‘Madam Grubeloff will be watching, so make sure you do your best.’

  The Great Hall had been decorated with flags and streamers, and the stage was hung with bunting embroidered with the Shadow Academy crest. Madam Grubeloff was sitting in the front row, and the students filed into the seats behind her to wait for their turn on the stage.

  Wilf and Marjory were first. It wasn’t a great success; Marjory dropped the silver rings twice, and Wilf forgot his best card trick.

  ‘I knew it’d be rubbish,’ Aggie whispered to Ava, and Madam Grubeloff turned round with a frown.

  ‘Try to be supportive, Aggie!’