Year Two Forever and Ever Read online

  “What did Mrs Peabody say then?” asked Ava, smoothing the long hair on a conker that looked like Rapunzel.

  “I don’t know,” said Lottie. “That’s when Colonel Crunch came to rescue me.”

  Just then there was a loud rumbling sound from outside of Isabel’s room. They could hear the littlies come bounding up the stairs like a herd of baby elephants.

  “Oh no,” cried Zoe, whose face had gone from tomato-red to more of a grape-purple. “Here they come!”

  Before the littlies reached the top of the stairs, Isabel very calmly went and closed her bedroom door. Ava knew that Isabel was hoping against all hope that the littlies would go and play in her sisters’ room.

  “But I like having the old Year Sixes around,” said Ava. “Maybe they could just stay?”

  “As long as they are here we are all stuck,” said Zoe. “We’ve already missed six hours and thirty-five minutes of being in Year Three.”

  Ava was trying to imagine what those six hours in Year Three might have been like when there was a pounding on Isabel’s door. Then came the five words that, when spoken by younger brothers and sisters, can ruin any play date: “Can we play with you?”

  When Isabel tried to hold the door closed, the littlies began shrieking, “Let us in or we’ll tell!” The big girls knew they had been beaten. Isabel let go of the door, and Lola and the Reds came tumbling in, with buckets from the garden on their heads and mud on their shoes. Johnny trailed behind them, helping baby Rafe toddle down the hallway.

  The little girls swarmed on Isabel’s toys. Scarlett and Ruby began rummaging around Isabel’s craft table, tossing pens and crayons everywhere. Lola went straight for the fancy dress drawer. She found Isabel’s fairy wings and put them on. She flew around the room, still wearing the bucket on her head and screaming at the top of her lungs. Ava thought Lola looked more like an angry wasp than a fairy. She nearly crushed Rafe as he crawled across the floor.

  Johnny went and sat quietly near Ava and the conkers.

  “What’s this?” he asked over the noise. He hadn’t seen Isabel’s conker collection before. He was holding up a shrivelled conker from a few autumns ago. Isabel had glued cotton wool on its head and made it tiny glasses out of a paperclip.

  “It is the grandfather conker,” said Ava. “You know conkers? The brown seeds you see everywhere? Isabel makes people out of them.”

  “Seeds?” asked Johnny. “Can you grow a grandfather?”

  Ava laughed. “No, conkers come from horse chestnut trees. So if you put this in the ground, some day a horse chestnut tree would grow.”

  “Look what I can do!” shouted Scarlett, looking up from her scribbling. “Watch, super conkers! They can fly!” She snatched a girl conker and a cat conker and tossed them out of the open window.

  “Scarlett, nooooooo!” wailed Isabel. They all peered down into the garden, looking for the conker creatures amongst the flowerbeds.

  “I’ll find them,” said Johnny helpfully. He trotted off back downstairs. Ava was thinking they’d got rid of the only littlie that wasn’t a maniac. She was sad to see him go.

  Little Rafe was sad too. “Oooooohhnnnnyyy,” he screeched, because he wasn’t even two yet and he couldn’t say Johnny properly. As he turned to follow Johnny, Rafe spotted Zoe upside down on the bed.

  “Oooo-eeee,” he cried, because he couldn’t say Zoe properly either. He tried to stand up to get to his sister faster, but he crashed sideways into the Barbie caravan. No one had time to help him because at that very moment, fairy-wasp Lola launched herself off Isabel’s toy chest right on to upside-down Zoe’s tummy. Ava was terrified that Zoe’s purple head would explode from the attack.

  After that there was a lot of crying, then there were a lot of tellings-off by various mummies, and then finally, at long last, the littlies were carted off downstairs to watch a bit of TV before going-home time.

  Ava, Isabel, Lottie and Zoe (who was right-side up and a nice normal colour again) went back to making a proper plan for the Year Sixes.

  “We could just hide from them,” said Lottie. “Mrs Peabody could tell everyone to come to school a bit early, and then we could lock the doors before they get there and pretend the school is closed.” Ava pictured the Year Sixes with their faces pressed up against the school windows, trying to see if anyone was inside.

  “I don’t think getting to school earlier is a good idea,” said Ava finally. “Mummy and I find it hard enough to get to school on time as it is. Any earlier and we’d still be in our pyjamas.”

  “Us too,” said Isabel. “Maybe we could just ask the Year Sixes nicely to go?”

  “Asking nicely never works with eleven-year-olds,” said Lottie. Her cousin was eleven so Ava supposed that Lottie knew what she was talking about. Lottie probably had lots of notebook entries about eleven-year-olds.

  Lottie must have been thinking about her notebook too, because she suddenly said that she didn’t have it. There was a frantic search until Zoe spotted it under some papers on Isabel’s craft table.

  Lottie seemed very relieved, until she began to look through it. Then she began to scream.

  Ava saw that on almost every page, covering entry after entry, were marks of every shape and colour. Most were just scribbles, but there were two wobbly letters that appeared over and over again: R for Ruby, and S for Scarlett.

  It took Lottie a long, long time to stop crying. She felt so terrible that she couldn’t even bring herself to go downstairs to tell on Ruby and Scarlett.

  The four friends sat down on the rug in a circle. Lottie’s ruined notebook lay on the floor in the middle, and all around them were piles of fancy dress clothes, crumpled-up sheets of paper and pens without their tops on. Conkers spilled out of the crushed Barbie caravan.

  “I want to go home,” said Lottie at last.

  “Me too,” said Zoe. “My tummy hurts.”

  Isabel looked hurt. She wanted everyone to have fun at her house. But Ava had to agree: this play date had gone horribly wrong. It was a terrible ending to a terrible day.

  “I mean, I love coming to your house Isabel,” Lottie explained, her eyelashes still wet with tears. “It’s just when the littlies are here it is so noisy and crowded and everything gets ruined—”

  “Wait a minute,” Ava nearly shouted. “That’s it!”

  “That’s what?” said Zoe.

  “Lottie loves play dates, but not when they are horrible and awful like this one. If the Year Sixes won’t leave Crabtree School because they love it so much,” Ava went on, “then we have to make them STOP loving it so much.”

  “And how do we do that?” asked Isabel crossly, as she tried to put the Barbie caravan back together.

  But Lottie had already figured it out. “We make Crabtree School as horrible as this play date!” she shouted. “That’s a great idea, Ava!”

  It was such a great idea that it made them all feel good enough to go downstairs to tell on Scarlett and Ruby. As they stood up, Isabel said to Ava, “You’re lucky, you know. Johnny is not nearly as terrible as the Reds. He’s the only littlie that’s been good today.”

  That made Ava worry a little, because things tended to go very wrong when Johnny was trying to be good.

  “Where did he go, anyway?” asked Isabel. “Is he still in the garden?”

  Apart from feeling bad for Lottie, the mums weren’t terribly concerned with what the littlies had got up to. They had finished their one thousand cups of tea and now it was time to go home. When that time comes mums can only think of one thing: getting out the door as soon as possible.

  In the flurry of tidying up and searching for shoes and stuffing the littlies into their coats, the big girls made a plan to save their school. They would need help from Mrs Peabody and all the teachers, but they thought it just might work.

  They were nearly finished planning when Lottie’s mum interrupted them. “That’s funny,” she said. “I can’t find my car keys. I thought they were in my bag.” She had her
purse and some work papers and her phone all strewn over the hallway floor. No keys. Lottie’s mum went to search in the sitting room.

  Zoe’s mum couldn’t find her car keys, either. Even Isabel’s mum’s keys were missing off the front table.

  “Where is Johnny?” asked Ava’s mum suddenly. Her keys were missing too.

  They all went out into the garden. Johnny was digging in the flower beds with a small spade.

  “I hope he isn’t digging up my flowers!” said Isabel’s mum.

  “I hope he hasn’t buried my conkers!” said Isabel.

  “Johnny,” said his mum. “Everyone seems to be missing their keys. Have you seen any car keys?”

  “Yes, Mummy,” said Johnny. “I planted them, all around the garden. I’m going to grow us new cars!”

  Isabel, Lottie, Zoe and Ava just looked at each other. Play date number ninety-five went on record as the worst, most horrible, terrible, awfully bad play date ever in the history of the world. Even the mummies, who now had no keys to their cars or houses, agreed. But at least it had given Ava and her friends the perfect plan for saving Crabtree School.

  Ava’s second day of being stuck somewhere in between Years Two and Three was a busy one. The night before, she and her friends had stayed up late digging for keys in Isabel’s garden. It turned out that Johnny was very good at burying things. That morning Ava’s eyes were sleepy as she patted Baron Biscuit.

  “Morning, Ava!” said Jessica brightly. “Did you miss me yesterday?”

  Ava nearly jumped out of her skin. She’d spent so long talking about Jessica that she’d forgotten what it was like talking to her.

  “I did miss you,” said Ava. It was the truth. “Are you going to be here every morning from now on?”

  “Yes, of course,” said Jessica. “Every day, forever!”

  “Won’t you get bored?” wondered Ava. “You’ve already done Year Six once.”

  “Nah,” replied Jessica. “I could never be bored here. And there’s no school anywhere that could be better than Crabtree School.”

  “How do you know?” asked Ava.

  “I just do,” said Jessica. She smiled at Ava and started upstairs. For the first time ever, Ava didn’t smile back. Forever and ever of watching Jessica walk up those stairs whilst she had to stay on the ground floor with crying Reception girls was going to be way too long.

  Back in the Year Two classroom, Ava told her friends about what Jessica had said. Lottie wasn’t surprised. “Eleven-year-olds think they know everything,” she said. “Our plan had better work.”

  With Miss Cheeky’s help, Ava and her friends called a big meeting for later that morning. While most of the Crabtree girls watched films in their classrooms, the teachers crowded into Mrs Peabody’s office. Colonel Crunch and Mrs Crunch were there too, and Mrs Biro, the school secretary. The headmistress was busy trying to figure out what this was all about.

  “A few girls in the Year Two class,” began Miss Cheeky. “I mean, the Year Three class. I mean – I mean Ava, Zoe, Isabel and Lottie, have come up with a way to help with our Year Six problem.”

  “I’m not sure that it is a good idea to ask seven-year-olds to solve this problem,” said Mrs Peabody to Miss Cheeky. Mrs Peabody wasn’t being unkind. Sometimes grown-ups just forget how clever seven-year-olds can be.

  “Let’s just listen to what they suggest,” said Miss Moody. Miss Moody knew exactly how clever seven-year-olds could be.

  “We have heard,” began Lottie loudly, “that the Year Six girls don’t want to leave because they love our school so much.”

  All the teachers nodded. They had heard that too.

  “So we think,” Ava said, “that the only way to get them out is to make the school completely impossible to love.”

  “How could you not love Crabtree School?” said Mrs Peabody. “They told me they love everything: the building, the food, the teachers, me. Especially me.” Mrs Peabody smiled at the memory.

  “So then we know exactly what to ruin,” said Ava.

  “Just for a little while,” added Isabel quickly. “We’ll just ruin it for long enough to make them want to leave.”

  The teachers were silent. They seemed to be thinking it over. No one said no.

  It was Zoe’s turn to talk. “Earlier this morning,” she told the teachers, “our class made a list of twenty-five wonderful things about Crabtree School. Even if we just choose the ten top answers and ruin those, we should be able to make the school really quite awful.”

  Lottie took out her notebook and showed the teachers the list. It was long and it looked very impressive. Lottie passed it around the room.

  “This is a lovely list, girls,” said Mrs Peabody once she had read it, “but I just wouldn’t even know how to begin ruining all these wonderful parts of our school.”

  “I could take care of ruining the food,” said Mrs Crunch helpfully.

  Colonel Crunch stood at attention. “And I can ruin the playground,” he said. “I’d be proud to be a part of this mission.” He saluted them all.

  Soon everyone was talking all at once. Making plans to ruin a perfectly lovely school turned out to be quite fun.

  When they had finished their meeting, the teachers sneaked off to tell their classes about the plan. The Year Six teacher, Mrs Swan, went to make sure her class, who were the ones causing all this trouble in the first place, didn’t suspect anything. Everyone knew what to do, and in case they got confused, Lottie had written everything down in her notebook, carefully avoiding the scribbled-on pages.

  When everyone was gone, Mrs Peabody called Lottie, Isabel, Zoe and Ava over to her desk. “Girls,” she said. “I’m so proud of you and your whole class. You’ve done a brilliant job of planning to destroy our school. Well done!” She gave them each a hug and a biscuit.

  “Although, Lottie,” Mrs Peabody said, eyeing Lottie’s notebook again, “perhaps we should do a bit of handwriting practice on those Ss and Rs?”

  Right before the end of the school day, Ava and her friends made a very important visit to the new Reception class in the Rainbow Room. They told them all about the plan to save Crabtree School.

  “So if you want to be properly in Reception,” Ava concluded, “you have to do exactly what I’ve just told you. You’re big, brave Crabtree girls now and we need you to help us. YOU are the most important part of this plan. Do you promise to do your best? I mean, your worst?”

  None of the Reception girls were staring at their shoes this time. All eyes were on Ava as the younger girls made their promises.

  In the history of Crabtree School for Girls, there has never been before and never will be again a day like Ava’s third day of nearly being in Year Three. She and her mum got to school early. Colonel Crunch had already been hard at work. There were big piles of dirt on the path up to the school. The windows had been smudged with mud. When Ava stepped into the front hallway it seemed gloomier than usual.

  By nine o’clock everything was ready to go.

  “Good morning, Jessica!” said Ava as her favourite Year Six girl came through the front door.

  “Good morning!” said Jessica happily. Ava felt a little bit guilty for what was about to happen. But it was too late to turn back now.

  Jessica reached down to stroke Baron Biscuit. But Baron Biscuit was covered in bubble wrap and yellow CAUTION tape. A sign around his neck read: DO NOT TOUCH.

  “What’s going on?” asked Jessica.

  “Colonel Crunch says Baron Biscuit is too old and fragile to be stroked any more,” Ava told her.

  “But what will we do for good luck?” asked Jessica.

  Jessica was going to need a whole lot more than luck that day. Just then three of the new Reception girls ran up to her. They clung to her dress and shouted, “Play with us, play with us! You be the mummy and we’ll be the babies!”

  They tugged so hard on Jessica that the skirt ripped off her dress. Then Jessica was standing in the hallway in her pants. The Reception girls ran
away laughing, taking the bottom half of Jessica’s dress with them. Around the corner, Isabel gave them each a high five as they passed.

  “Oh, Jess-icaaaa,” sang a voice from inside the headmistress’s office. “Come here please, my little darling!”

  Ava followed Jessica into the office. As usual, Mrs Peabody was wearing one of her lovely flowery dresses, and her candyfloss hair looked especially fluffy. The headmistress smiled a huge smile when they came in.

  “Jessica, my love,” said Mrs Peabody, giving Jessica a huge hug. “What happened to your uniform dress?” Before Jessica could answer the headmistress gave her another hug and a kiss on each cheek.

  “Now, darling.” The headmistress squeezed Jessica’s face between her hands. “You really must wear a whole dress. I can’t have you catching cold now, can I?”

  “But Mrs Peabody, someone ripped my dress—” began Jessica.

  “You poor thing!” said Mrs Peabody. “How embarrassing! My poor little angel!” And even though Jessica was nearly as tall as the headmistress, Mrs Peabody wrapped her in an old blanket that Lady Lovelypaws sometimes used for a bed. Then she scooped Jessica up like a baby and began to rock her back and forth. It looked so silly that Ava nearly laughed out loud. Jessica was horrified.

  “Now we really must get you sorted,” said Mrs Peabody. She reached for the lost property box that was just inside her office door. She pulled out a school uniform dress. “This should be perfect,” she said to Jessica. “Here you go, poppet.”

  The dress was way too small. It would have even been too small on Ava, and poor Jessica could hardly breathe it was so tight. But before Jessica could complain Mrs Peabody was digging through the box again. She pulled out a hat, scarf and gloves that someone had lost last winter, and she put them on Jessica. Then she wrapped her up in the blanket again. Ava noticed that it was covered in cat hair.