“Y-yeah, sh-she’s not got a chance here. Not with the B-b-brewster b-brothers around.”
“But who are the Brewster brothers?”
A look of fear sketched itself across Snivel’s face. “Well, they’re b-big, and they r-run the place…”
“Like Mayor Rattsbulge,” said Lamp.
“…and they’ll t-take your l-lunch money…”
“So will Mayor Rattsbulge,” said Lamp.
“…and there’s f-f-four of them.”
“Like Mayor Rattsbulge,” said Lamp. “Except there’s only one of him.”
“THERE ’E IS!” Four enormous brutes with shaved heads and tiny foreheads, their sleeves rolled up to reveal hairy, tree-trunk arms, shoved through the crowd straight towards Snivel.
Anemonie spun round, opened her mouth, realised they were twice her size and closed it again.
“Brewster brothers?” whispered Casper.
“Yep.” Snivel was trembling. “And… erm… unless you want to b-be a r-rugby ball, you should r-really r-r-r—”
Casper guessed the rest of the word and dashed off across the playground, followed by Snivel and the rest of the terrified class, some screaming, some whimpering, one sneezing. (Ted Treadington was allergic to playgrounds.) Lamp considered becoming a rugby ball for a second, but then decided he preferred football, so he galumphed along behind.
“They’re huge!” shouted Casper as he ran down a plasticky-smelling corridor beside Snivel. “What have they got against you?”
“Erm…” Snivel had quite small legs so he had to run twice as fast. “You all f-first years?”
“Yeah. But what about—”
“M-me too. We’ve got geography.”
Casper groaned.
Teresa Louncher tripped over a Mind the Step sign and clattered to the floor. Casper picked her up, but she was crying too hard to carry on, so he hid her in a locker and promised to find her at break.
“It’s j-just up here.” Snivel guided them to the left into an identical corridor, up some stairs, through a heavy door and into a dull classroom with maps plastered all over the walls and ceiling.
The children collapsed into seats and caught their breath. It looked like the Brewster brothers hadn’t followed. In fact, given that there were quite a few children flying past their window and that they were on the second floor, Casper felt quite sure they were still outside.
“I don’t like big boys’ school any more,” huffed Lamp. “Can we go home now?”
Snivel was nervously watching through the glass of the classroom door.
“They knew you, Snivel,” said Casper, clutching the stitch in his side.
“Y-yeah…” muttered Snivel.
“But it’s only the first day. How did that happen so fast?”
Nervously, Snivel stuck out his pale little hand. “N-name’s S-s-snivel. S-snivel B-brewster. I’ve n-never shaken h-hands before.”
“They’re your brothers?” Casper shook his head. “But you’re so…”
“S-small?”
“Well, no. But I mean, compared to them.”
“I know. I’m the r-runt.”
The door burst open and everyone screamed, which made the skinny woman standing in the doorway scream even higher and cower behind her register. After a few tense moments she peeked out, saw no monsters and squeaked with relief. She had long brown hair and a mousy face that squeezed to a tip at her chin.
“Sorry. Hello, class; sorry.” The woman tiptoed to the teacher’s desk and sat low in the spinny chair, hiding as much of herself as she could behind a small stack of books.
“There you are, Lady!” shouted Lamp, bouncing up and down and pointing at the shivering stack of books. “I found you. Is it my turn to hide now?”
Casper grabbed Lamp just as he made for the nearest loose floorboard. “Come on, Lamp, time to sit down.” They found their way to some desks at the front.
The woman spoke quietly, to the floor rather than the class. “Sorry… erm… my name’s Miss Valenteen. I’m your geography teacher. If that’s OK. Sorry.” She opened the register with shaking fingers and called the first few names. “Daryl Ablebody?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Margarine Bannister?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Anemonie Blight?”
“Hmph.”
Casper glanced around for Anemonie, confused as to why she wasn’t terrorising Miss Valenteen already. This was the sort of teacher she’d usually eat for breakfast. (Not literally, of course. Anemonie’s breakfast was a bowl of Sickly-Pops with pink food colouring in the milk.) There she was, sitting at the back of the class with crossed arms and the sulkiest face since the village shop ran out of pink food colouring.
Miss Valenteen had stopped at the next name, her mouth too scared even to say the words. “Snivel,” – her teeth chattered – “Snivel B-brewster?”
“Y-yes, miss.”
Her eyes darted to Snivel. She frowned. “You’re the new Brewster boy?”
“Y-yes.”
“Oh, thank goodness for that.” Miss Valenteen’s shoulders sagged, her head dropped back, her mouth broke into a broad grin. “Well, that’s OK, then. I thought you were another of those ghastly Brewster brothers. But look at you! You couldn’t hurt a fly! Right, then.” She stood up, swept aside her book barrier and carried on as relieved as the fly currently buzzing round Snivel Brewster’s head. “Casper Candlewacks?”
“Yes, miss.”
Without the threat of a Brewster, Miss Valenteen continued the lesson a new woman. She sang the rest of the register and then tangoed round the classroom handing out textbooks.
As Casper watched poor Snivel set out his hand-me-down pencils next to his hand-me-down pencil sharpener, he felt a pang of pity. Imagine having to follow in the footsteps of the Brewster brothers. Your legs would get achy just trying to keep up, for starters.
Miss Valenteen clapped her hands. “OK, class, we’ll start with a geography test.”
“Oh no,” moaned Lamp, “I don’t even know where geography is.”
“Question one: what’s the capital of Mongolia?”
Lamp’s hand shot up.
“Yes?”
“Ulaanbaatar, miss. Population of just over a million, lying one thousand, three hundred and ten metres above sea level.”
“Well… yes!” said Miss Valenteen. “One point to you.”
There was a long pause, broken by a donk noise as Casper’s jaw hit the ground.
Lamp looked shocked, and quite rightly. He touched his lips with a doubting finger. Had those words really just come out of his mouth?
Miss Valenteen continued. “Question two: where