The Wonderground

41 - The Dijon Ketchup

The staff room door scraped open, pushing some of the debris aside and squeaking horribly as bits of glass scratched along the flooring. Mr. McDonald appeared, nursing a cup of hot Bovril. He was whistling a number from the musical 'Cats'.

He sauntered towards them, tiptoeing between the cabinet fragments. "What weather we're having today," he observed casually. "What a mess! Thunderstorm apparently. Although I think I slept through it," he admitted sheepishly, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth with his lab coat cuff.

He approached the children rowed up on the floor. "Oh dear," he said, peering over his spectacles. "Not in trouble with the headmaster I hope."

The six looked at each other in confusion.

"What's with the goggles and the nose pegs?" he enquired.

"Trials," blurted out Amelia. "For the swimming team."

"Ah, of course," he nodded, accepting their appearances without question. "County champions three years running," he added proudly. "Lots to live up to..." He smiled at the group and then stopped talking abruptly. He looked back sheepishly at the six. "Silly me," he apologised, pointing in both directions with a puzzled look. "I appear to have got myself contotally fused... Which way is the Chemistry department?" He pushed open a pair of glass doors that had miraculously survived the onslaught.

They watched the dazed figure of Mr. McDonald meander off to the left and out of sight. He reappeared, raised his mug to them, chuckled to himself and wandered off to the right.

Moments later the same doors swung open again as Alex, the headteacher's assistant, burst into the corridor carrying a tea tray with a bottle of whiskey and a stuffed toy bird perched on it.

"I didn't know what biscuits people preferred, so I got Bourbon and Penguin," he blustered with a bemused expression. He frowned at the tray in confusion and rubbed the back of his head. "Oh dear. Erm... I appear to have..."

Before he could finish, Casus burst through Mrs. Marney's door. He bumped into Alex, sending the tray and the skinny man tumbling. The penguin squeaked as it bounced on the floor half a second before the whiskey bottle smashed onto the surface and showered the bird with droplets of liquor. A smoky, clinical smell filled their nostrils as Casus apologised and helped Alex to his feet. The assistant's trousers were damp at the knees and he grabbed the fluffy penguin close to his chest.

"My companion has fainted," began Casus. "She needs fresh air and I need help to carry her outside." He looked the scrawny assistant up and down. "Someone strong."

"I could fetch the caretaker?" suggested Alex.

"That would be ideal," nodded the Lowdowner and patted the assistant reassuringly on the back.

Alex limped away down the corridor, energised by his mission and nursing his left knee.

The six were exhausted. They were filthy and sweaty. A ringing noise was reverberating in their ears. They ached all over and still had no clue what was going on.

Casus gave a soft smile. "The Dream Tailor's work is done. Your lives can return to normal. Your friends and teachers are unhurt, but they will now remember yesterday very differently." He removed his deerstalker and used it to swat broken glass from the turquoise seats before inviting the children to sit and rest.

The seven jumped back to their feet as Clay Porter slammed through the double doors and sprinted towards them, carrying a folding, aluminium, emergency stretcher. He skidded to a halt. His heavy boots squealed against the floor and left two black marks in his wake. Clay ignored the children and nodded sharply at the only adult. He addressed Casus directly. "Where is she?" he asked urgently. Casus gestured towards the headteacher's open door. Clay nodded again and disappeared into the office. Casus followed, leaving the bewildered children standing in a puddle of whiskey.