Class Six and the Nits of Doom Read Online Free Page B

she was a
watch
!’
    Everyone had gone completely still.
    Slacker frowned. ‘Say it again.’
    Serise began to look defensive.
    ‘Miss Broom is a…is a…is a…
WATCH
!’ she said. And then she clapped her hands to her mouth and went all cross-eyed.
    Anil took a deep breath.
    ‘Miss Broom is a-a-a
wicket
!’ he said. ‘I mean, she’s a wer-wer-wer-
wick
!’
    Class Six looked at each other wildly, and then they all tried.
    ‘Miss Broom is a
wish
!’ said Winsome.
    ‘Miss Broom… Miss Broom… Miss Broom is a
with
!’ said Slacker.
    ‘Miss Broom,’ said Jack, making a great effort. ‘Miss Broom is a wer-wer-wer…a wer-wer-wer…a wer-wer-wer…
an ostrich with chestnut stripes and a tree
growing out of its head
!’
    Everyone stopped and glared at him.
    ‘Trust you to come up with something really
silly
,’ said Serise, in disgust.
    Jack’s eyes bulged with the unfairness of that.
    ‘Well, it’s not
my
fault, is it?’ he demanded. ‘It’s not my fault I’ve been put under a spell by a
large fluffy rabbit with free wifi reception
!
Oh, blow it! I mean by a
gold-plated washing machine with hiccups
—I mean—I mean—by a you-know-what! Is it?’
    ‘Well, at least the rest of us aren’t being stupid about it,’ said Anil. ‘At least we’re just saying words like
watch
or
wish
, or
daffodil singing
the National Anthem with a straw up its nostril
.’
    He stopped and looked a bit baffled.
    ‘But what are we going to do?’ asked Winsome, alarmed. ‘Miss Broom has cast a spell on us, and that means we can’t even tell anyone.’
    Rodney Wright scratched his head.
    ‘You’re all nuts,’ he said. ‘Totally bonkers.’
    Anil suddenly began to look hopeful.
    ‘Can
you
say it, Rodney?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes!’ exclaimed Winsome. ‘Perhaps Rodney escaped the spell because he was trapped in the cupboard.’
    ‘Say it,’ said Jack. ‘Go on! Go on, Rodney! Say it!’
    Rodney sighed. ‘Say what?’
    ‘That Miss Broom is a…is a…you know.’
    ‘Miss Broom is a you know?’
    ‘Perhaps we could write it down,’ said Winsome.
    But even when Slacker had found an old doughnut bag in his pocket, and someone else had gone and swiped a biro from the dinner ladies’ register, all Winsome found she could write was
    MISS BROOM IS A WIT
    —and then the biro stopped working.
    ‘Tut!’ said Anil. ‘Give that pen here!’
    His effort spelled out:
    MISS BROOM IS A TWIT
    Which was quite pleasing, but not a lot of help.
    ‘Perhaps we could find some way of letting people know without saying the words,’ suggested Emily.
    Winsome considered. ‘You mean, like a mime or something?’
    ‘Oh yes,’ said Serise, very sarcastic. ‘We’ll probably all end up acting like mad bluebottles. Anyway, who could we tell?’
    They all looked at each other, and there was silence apart from the sound of Rodney scratching at his head again.
    ‘Mrs Elwig?’ suggested Slacker. Mrs Elwig was the headteacher.
    Anil rolled his eyes. ‘Slacker, Mrs Elwig is always looking in a mirror and combing her long golden hair,’ he said. ‘She travels about in a wheelchair with a blanket over her,
so no-one has ever seen her legs, and she smells of fish. She’s hardly going to start objecting to the fact that one of her teachers is a
stitch
, is she? Even if we could get the words
out.’
    ‘Well, at least we know why last year’s Class Six never told anyone about Miss Broom,’ said Winsome sadly.
    Everyone nodded.
    ‘Hey,’ said Jack. ‘Do you remember when last year’s Class Six put on that production of
The Wizard of Oz
in the playground where the wicked wer-wer-wer—oh
blast it!—the thingammyjigs of the east and west were actually gibbons? Because I always thought that was a bit odd.’
    Winsome sighed.
    ‘We’ll just have to hope for the best,’ she said. ‘And after all, we
are
all whizzes at maths now.’
    ‘Hey, Rodney!’ said Jack. ‘What’s fifty-six times eighteen?’
    A thousand and eight
,