“It’ll never work.”
“It will,” said Angela. “Come on!”
A few minutes later they slipped past Mr Weakly, who was on duty, and headed round the back of the school. Miss Skinner’s office looked out over the playing field. Mr Grouch, the caretaker, kept his compost heap here and it was STRICTLY OUT OF BOUNDS. It was piled high with smelly slops and leftovers from lunch.
“Pooh!” grumbled Laura. “It stinks!”
Angela edged past the compost heap and stood on tiptoe.
“Well? Can you see her?” whispered Maisie, hanging back.
“The window ’s too high!” said Angela. “You’ll have to give me a lift.”
Maisie crouched down and Angela clambered on to her shoulders. From there she had the perfect view. Miss Skinner was working at her desk, with her back towards the window.
“She’s in there,” reported Angela.
“What about her hair?” asked Laura.
“She’s still wearing it.”
“Told you,” said Maisie. “It’s not a wig!”
She groaned. “Hurry up, Angela! You’re heavy!”
“Keep still,” hissed Angela. “I can’t see if you keep wobbling.”
It was just a matter of time. Any minute now Miss Skinner would remove her wig to scratch her head.
Then it happened. Miss Skinner stood up, stretched and turned round. She caught sight of a pale face staring at her through the window.
“ARGHHHHH!” she screamed.
“WAAAAHHH!” yelled Angela, losing her balance.
Miss Skinner saw the face vanishfrom sight and heard a thump. She hurried to the window and pulled it up. “ANGELA NICELY!” she thundered.
Angela sat up. Luckily, something had broken her fall. Unluckily, it was Mr Grouch’s pongy compost heap. She was covered in lumpy custard and mouldy cabbage.
“EWWWW!” she cried, crawling out.
“It serves you right,” snapped Miss Skinner. “What were you doing?”
“Just … erm … looking for something,” stammered Angela.
“For what?”
“My PE kit,” said Angela.
“Don’t tell lies!” cried Miss Skinner. “You were spying on me! What for?”
Angela looked at the ground. She didn’t have an explanation, at least not one she could tell Miss Skinner.
“Very well,” said Miss Skinner. “Clean yourself up. Then you can stand outside my office for the rest of lunchtime.”
She caught sight of Maisie and Laura trying to sneak away. “As for you two, I shall be speaking to your teacher.”
WHAM! The window slammed shut.
Maisie glared at Angela. “I told you it wouldn’t work. Now you’ve got us all in trouble.”
“What about me? I’m all stinky,” moaned Angela. “What’s my mum going to say?”
Chapter 3
Angela stood outside Miss Skinner’s office feeling sorry for herself. She was in big trouble with Miss Skinner and she was still no nearer to proving that the Head was wearing a wig. She’d done her best to wipe off the tomato and custard stains, but she couldn’t do anything about the smell.
Tiffany Charmers walked past. “Oh dear, Angela. In trouble again?” she smiled.
Angela stuck out her tongue.
DRRRING!
The bell went for the end of lunch
Miss Skinner came out of her office. “Well, Angela,” she said. “I hope you’ve had time to think about your behaviour. It is very rude to spy on people.”
“Yes, Miss. Sorry,” said Angela.
“I don’t want to catch you at my window again, or near Mr Grouch’s compost heap. Is that clear?”
“I promise,” said Angela. “It smells.”
Miss Skinner sniffed. “So it would seem. Now get back to your class.”
Angela hurried off. As she passedthe staffroom, she saw Mr Grouch inside hoovering. The caretaker was as grumpy as an ogre and hated children bothering him. But Angela had seen something that had given her an idea.
“Hi, Mr Grouch!” she said, smiling up at him.
The caretaker turned off the Hoover.
“What do you want?” he glared.
“I just wondered what you’re doing,” said Angela.
“What does it look like?” snapped Mr Grouch.
He went to turn the
“It will,” said Angela. “Come on!”
A few minutes later they slipped past Mr Weakly, who was on duty, and headed round the back of the school. Miss Skinner’s office looked out over the playing field. Mr Grouch, the caretaker, kept his compost heap here and it was STRICTLY OUT OF BOUNDS. It was piled high with smelly slops and leftovers from lunch.
“Pooh!” grumbled Laura. “It stinks!”
Angela edged past the compost heap and stood on tiptoe.
“Well? Can you see her?” whispered Maisie, hanging back.
“The window ’s too high!” said Angela. “You’ll have to give me a lift.”
Maisie crouched down and Angela clambered on to her shoulders. From there she had the perfect view. Miss Skinner was working at her desk, with her back towards the window.
“She’s in there,” reported Angela.
“What about her hair?” asked Laura.
“She’s still wearing it.”
“Told you,” said Maisie. “It’s not a wig!”
She groaned. “Hurry up, Angela! You’re heavy!”
“Keep still,” hissed Angela. “I can’t see if you keep wobbling.”
It was just a matter of time. Any minute now Miss Skinner would remove her wig to scratch her head.
Then it happened. Miss Skinner stood up, stretched and turned round. She caught sight of a pale face staring at her through the window.
“ARGHHHHH!” she screamed.
“WAAAAHHH!” yelled Angela, losing her balance.
Miss Skinner saw the face vanishfrom sight and heard a thump. She hurried to the window and pulled it up. “ANGELA NICELY!” she thundered.
Angela sat up. Luckily, something had broken her fall. Unluckily, it was Mr Grouch’s pongy compost heap. She was covered in lumpy custard and mouldy cabbage.
“EWWWW!” she cried, crawling out.
“It serves you right,” snapped Miss Skinner. “What were you doing?”
“Just … erm … looking for something,” stammered Angela.
“For what?”
“My PE kit,” said Angela.
“Don’t tell lies!” cried Miss Skinner. “You were spying on me! What for?”
Angela looked at the ground. She didn’t have an explanation, at least not one she could tell Miss Skinner.
“Very well,” said Miss Skinner. “Clean yourself up. Then you can stand outside my office for the rest of lunchtime.”
She caught sight of Maisie and Laura trying to sneak away. “As for you two, I shall be speaking to your teacher.”
WHAM! The window slammed shut.
Maisie glared at Angela. “I told you it wouldn’t work. Now you’ve got us all in trouble.”
“What about me? I’m all stinky,” moaned Angela. “What’s my mum going to say?”
Chapter 3
Angela stood outside Miss Skinner’s office feeling sorry for herself. She was in big trouble with Miss Skinner and she was still no nearer to proving that the Head was wearing a wig. She’d done her best to wipe off the tomato and custard stains, but she couldn’t do anything about the smell.
Tiffany Charmers walked past. “Oh dear, Angela. In trouble again?” she smiled.
Angela stuck out her tongue.
DRRRING!
The bell went for the end of lunch
Miss Skinner came out of her office. “Well, Angela,” she said. “I hope you’ve had time to think about your behaviour. It is very rude to spy on people.”
“Yes, Miss. Sorry,” said Angela.
“I don’t want to catch you at my window again, or near Mr Grouch’s compost heap. Is that clear?”
“I promise,” said Angela. “It smells.”
Miss Skinner sniffed. “So it would seem. Now get back to your class.”
Angela hurried off. As she passedthe staffroom, she saw Mr Grouch inside hoovering. The caretaker was as grumpy as an ogre and hated children bothering him. But Angela had seen something that had given her an idea.
“Hi, Mr Grouch!” she said, smiling up at him.
The caretaker turned off the Hoover.
“What do you want?” he glared.
“I just wondered what you’re doing,” said Angela.
“What does it look like?” snapped Mr Grouch.
He went to turn the
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