Kitabı oku: «On Planet Fruitcake»

For Kit, of course.

Contents

Cover

Title page

Copyright

Dedication

1: Problem!

2: ‘Is something wrong with your brains?’

3: On Planet Fruitcake

4: An axe dripping with blood

5: Horribly dangerous

6: Deep in the jungle

7: Something normal

8: Weird and silly things

9: Brains in pots

10: Scoop out my brain

11: Married in a flowerpot hat

12: ‘Don’t you want us thinking?’

13: A clever and beautiful chicken

14: A really stupid baby

15: Suppose! Suppose! Suppose!

16: The One and Only Philip

17: ‘I will not have this pandemonium in my classroom!’

18: Purple cows and black ice lollies

19: You’ve lost the bet

20: The most suitable present

Also by Anne Fine

About the Publisher

1

Problem!

Poor Philip had a problem. Everyone else adored his teacher, Miss Dove. They thought she was the nicest, kindest teacher in the whole school.

‘We are so lucky that we’re in her class!’ Beth kept on telling everyone.

‘Yes,’ Peter agreed. ‘She never gives us vinegary looks, the way the janitor does when we come in on wet mornings, tracking mud all over his clean floors.’

‘Or makes her mouth go tight and crimpy, like Mrs Edmond does when she’s getting ratty.’

Philip said nothing, but he wasn’t so sure. He liked Miss Dove. Of course he did. She was so gentle. But every time she called him up to her desk for a private chat, she said the very same thing.

‘Philip, you’re always so quiet when we have class discussions. You never put up your hand to tell us what you think. Do you suppose you might be a little shy ’

Poor Philip always shrugged. He didn’t believe he was shy. He made as much noise as anyone else in the playground. He cheered as loudly as everyone else when he heard there was pizza for lunch.

But he was quiet in class. He couldn’t think of anything he really wanted to say. If Miss Dove asked him a question like, ‘Does metal float?’, or, ‘What are seven threes?’, he answered quickly enough. But when they talked about things in class, Philip could never think of anything to add to what the others had all said already.

So he was quiet. What was wrong with that?

Beth was still going on about how lucky they were. ‘Miss Dove never snaps at us like Mr Huggett does when he catches us mucking about in the corridors.’

‘No,’ Astrid said. ‘And her eyes never go all narrow, like a cat’s, and flash the scary way Miss Gelland’s do if you forget your sports stuff.’

Still Philip said nothing. He was remembering the last time his mum and dad came back from meeting Miss Dove on parents’ evening.

‘She says you’re very quiet in class,’ his mum had told him.

‘Too quiet,’ said his dad. ‘She says you don’t join in the class discussions. Why is that, Philip? Are you a little scared of her?’

Scared of Miss Dove? How could you ever be scared of Miss Dove. She never made them jump by hissing at them to be quiet, like Mr Pound. Or gave them really fierce looks, like Mrs Carter did if ever they whispered in Assembly. She was the nicest teacher he’d ever had.

Still, on his end of term report she’d written, Philip must try to make more of an effort to speak up in class discussions.

Not that it was easy to get a word in edgeways with his class. Someone was always talking. Even now, James was giving everyone another reason why Miss Dove was the best teacher they could ever have.

‘She never tells us off as strictly as Miss Sprout does.’

‘Or shouts at us, like Mrs Moran does when she’s had enough. Miss Dove would never, ever, ever lose her temper.’

‘We are so lucky,’ Beth reminded them all over again. ‘We’re lucky, lucky, lucky to have Miss Dove.’

And Philip just stayed very quiet.

2

‘Is something wrong with your brains?’

That day it was really, really hot – far too hot to work. Miss Dove was starting a new project, all about travel. First, they made a list on the whiteboard of all the different ways there were of getting to other places. They’d called out all the easy ones like planes and cars and trains and feet and bicycles and buses, but Miss Dove was still standing waiting.

She tried encouraging them. ‘I know you can come up with a few more! Let’s all try to think a bit more and a little harder. Come on, now. Who’s going to be the first to think of another one?’

Still nobody spoke. A bee buzzed in the window and then buzzed out again. Sarah flopped on her desk and spread her arms to try to cool herself. Paul picked up his workbook and used it as a fan.

Miss Dove sighed. ‘What is the matter with you all?’ she said. ‘Is something wrong with your brains today? Why aren’t they working properly?’

‘It’s too hot,’ Amari moaned.

‘And too stuffy,’ wailed Connor.

Astrid hated hot weather. It made her hands go sticky and her plaits feel heavy. So when Miss Dove told Connor and Amari, ‘I don’t see why the weather makes a difference. I don’t see why you can’t just think ’, Astrid said grumpily, ‘You probably wouldn’t like it if we did.’

Miss Dove turned from the whiteboard. Gently she smiled. ‘Now you don’t really believe that, do you, Astrid?’

‘Maybe,’ said Astrid. (She was in the mood to quarrel with anyone, even Miss Dove.) ‘Maybe if we began to use our brains a lot, we would start arguing with you. I don’t think you’d like that.’

Miss Dove beamed. ‘Of course I wouldn’t mind! It is my job to teach you how to think. So if you all began to think really hard about everything, I’d be delighted.’ Miss Dove let out one of her merry, tinkling laughs. ‘Why, Astrid, did you think I might get cross Or lose my temper?’

‘You might,’ said Astrid.

‘Only if we lived on Planet Fruitcake!’

‘Perhaps we do,’ said Astrid stubbornly.