The Midnight Gang

“What is this stupid man’s name?”

“Raj,” replied George.

“Raj what?”

“Raj the newsagent.”

“I mean what’s his surname, you foolish child?”

“Dunno.”

“Well, I will try to trace him and with any luck have his shop closed down. After your operation, you are forbidden from eating chocolates, George.”

“Sorry, Matron.”

“‘Sorry’ isn’t good enough! The hospital principal, Sir Quentin Strillers, will have to be told about you defying doctor’s orders like this, George!”

“Yes, Matron,” answered the boy sorrowfully.

“I will deal with you in the morning! Now go to sleep! All of you!”

Matron stalked back towards her office. Once again, like Grandma’s Footsteps, she turned round several times to check the children were as still as statues.

CLICK!

The lights went off again, and Matron sat in her office. After a moment, the lady did the most incredible thing. She opened the tin and started scoffing the chocolates herself!

Matron seemed to like the big purple wrapped ones the best, as she made her way through them at quite a pace. She had barely popped one in her mouth when the next one was already being unwrapped ready for scoffing. Time passed and the more she ate, the sleepier she became. By nine o’clock, her eyelids were flickering. Still she ate and ate and ate. Perhaps she hoped the sugar in the chocolates would keep her awake. Strangely, they seemed to be having the opposite effect. By 10pm, her eyes were closing for a few seconds at a time. Still she ate and ate and ate. By 11pm, she was desperately trying to prop up her head in her hands, but it was becoming heavier and heavier and heavier. The scoffing slowed down too, and soon the chocolate mush dribbled out of her mouth and her head hit her desk with a loud …

THUD!

Through the glass, Matron could be heard snoring.

“ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ …”

The children on the ward all remained silent for a moment. Then out of the darkness someone whispered, “Well done, George.”

“I think the plan’s workin’!” he whispered back. George’s cockney accent made his voice stand out.

“What plan?” asked Tom.

“Shush!” came another voice.

“Go to sleep, new boy! Stop poking your nose into other people’s business,” said a girl. “Now, let’s all get ready to go at midnight.”

But of course Tom couldn’t sleep, especially now he knew the children were up to no good. What was going to happen at midnight?

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The glow from the clock face of Big Ben shone through the tall window behind Tom’s bed. Suddenly Tom could see shadows flashing through the children’s ward. Figures were moving in the darkness.

Tom was frightened and couldn’t help but gasp. “Aaah!”

Just then he felt a hand on his mouth, silencing him.

This made Tom even more frightened.

“Shush!” hissed someone. “Don’t make a sound. We don’t want anyone wakin’ up Matron.”

The hand was soft and fleshy and smelled of chocolate, and as Tom’s eyes adjusted to the dark he realised it was indeed George’s.

Tom’s eyes darted over to the matron’s office. The lady was still fast asleep in her chair, her head resting on her desk, snoring away.

“ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZZ …”

“Not one sound!” repeated George.

Tom nodded his agreement to the boy, who slowly removed his hand.

Then Tom looked behind him towards the giant clock. He could see across the rooftops of London. It was approaching midnight.

Soon it was clear that it wasn’t just George who was out of his bed. Robin was also there, pushing Amber along in a wheelchair. The wheelchair was old and rusty, and even had a flat tyre. Because Robin had bandages over his eyes, he couldn’t see a thing. Amber’s bandaged legs banged straight into the wall.

“OW!” she cried.

“Shush!” said Robin and George. Tom found himself joining in too.

“Shush!”

“Let me!” said George. He guided Robin to one side, and then took over the pushing of Amber. Robin put his hand on George’s shoulder, and like a rather pitiful conga the trio shuffled out of the ward.

“Where are you going?” asked Tom.

“Shush!” the three children replied.

“Can you please stop telling me to ‘shush’ all the time!” protested Tom.

“Just go to sleep, new boy!” hissed Amber.

“But …” Tom protested.

“You are not in our gang!” added George.

“But I really want to be in your gang,” pleaded Tom.

“Well, you can’t be, mate!” replied George.

“But it’s not fair!” moaned Tom.