Katies Box. Chapter 2. Just Deserts.

An inane smile spread across the cook's plump face, as she stirred the brown liquid from a small bottle into the mincemeat. Looking around cautiously she spotted Mary and Jane, who were walking through the canteen, on their way back to class.
Giving them an evil look, the spotty faced woman picked up the large aluminium pot she was stirring and the small, brown bottle and carried them quickly into the store cupboard.
Mary looked quizzically at Jane, "What's she up to?' she asked suspiciously.
'Nothing good you can be sure of that. You know she's so rude, she shouts at you if you ask for more and gives you the wrong change.'
'But didn't you see her; she was pouring something into that pot from a brown bottle.'
'It's probably gravy browning.' said Jane matter of factly.
'So why did she suddenly take it into the cupboard when she saw us looking then?'
Jane looked at Mary and instinctively knew what she was thinking.
'No Mary, we can't we'll get into awful trouble if we do.'
'Come on aren't you just a little bit curious to know what she's up to?'
'Yes, but I don't want to get into any trouble.'
'Come on, keep close by.' said Mary pulling Jane by the sleeve of her jumper.
Jane felt her face flush as Mary boldly opened the kitchen door. Listening through the crack, they could hear the clinking of cups from the other end of the kitchen, where the dinner ladies were having their tea break.
Mary went to go in, but then stopped suddenly in her tracks; Jane couldn't stop herself and stepped on the back of her shoe.
'Ouch, watch it.' hissed Mary angrily; rubbing the heel of her foot and pulling her shoe back onto her foot.
'I thought I heard something.' whispered Mary.
'Let's go back Mary; I'm scared what if she catches us?' hissed Jane anxiously, but Mary took no notice and crept over to the cupboard door. Jane held tightly onto the back of Mary's jumper her eyes darting back and forth and looking just like a frightened dormouse.
The door to the storeroom was still slightly open.
Mary put her finger to her lips and then edged her way towards the opening.
Jane's breathing became louder as Mary put her head around the door and had to put her hand across her mouth, as she was sure that the cook would hear her.
Looking into the cupboard Mary could see the cook stirring the same pot with a large wooden spoon and on the table next to it she saw the brown bottle, but this time she could read the label.
The cook stopped stirring the spoon and turned slowly towards the door.
Did she know that they were there? thought Mary as she froze with her back against the door and straining her ears, she listened carefully.
'Whose there?' shouted the cook's croaky voice from inside.
Mary grabbed Jane's hand and ran recklessly towards the exit and crashing through the swing doors, they ran down the corridor for dear life. Mary finally hauled Jane behind the trophy case and slumped down onto the parquet flooring, breathing hard.
'She¦she¦nearly saw me.' said Mary looking around the cupboard to see if the cook was in pursuit.
Jane was finding it hard to breath, sitting on the floor next to Mary she took out her inhaler and took a deep breath as she squirted the medicine into her mouth. Mary watched anxiously as Jane's breathing began to slow.
'You all right?' said Mary holding onto Jane's arm.
Jane smiled reassuringly as she tried to stand up, but Mary pulled her back down and said, 'Stay down, I think she's coming.'
Jane didn't think she could take any more; her heart began to beat hard against her ribs as she gripped onto Mary's arm.
Jane opened her mouth to scream as footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, but Mary put her hand over her mouth and silenced her just in time.
Sitting in the corner, they could hear the cook's heavy breathing coming even closer.
Mary peeked out from behind the cupboard with one eye and watched as the cook, still with the large spoon in her hand, stood at the corridor window, listening for any movement. Her eyes narrowed as she stared in their direction. Mary held Jane back mouthing to her silently. 'She's down there.'
Unexpectedly a voice boomed from the kitchen door, 'Mrs Stewart that health and safety woman's on the phone again, she wants to speak to you.'
The cook sucked her teeth in irritation and walked back to the kitchen kicking the door open with her large foot.
The kitchen door swung back and forth as Mary checked that she was gone, 'Phew that was close,' she said sitting back down next to Jane.
'Yes, too close for comfort as my mum would say.' said Jane wiping her sweaty brow.
'She's putting brandy in the mincemeat.' said Mary quickly.
'How do you know?' said Jane looking quizzically at Mary.
'My dad's got a bottle of the same stuff in his cupboard. I'd recognise the three stars anywhere, no wonder the mincemeat tastes funny.'
*
During the Art lesson, Mrs Strand couldn't understand why most of the girls were acting so strange, it wasn't windy outside, which always seemed to make the girls quite excited and yet most of them seemed to be as high as a kite.
'Look Miss,' shouted Gail as she slopped a large dollop of red paint onto the sheet of white paper. Then pulling up the sleeves of her jumper the small girl pushed a brown curl out of her eyes and with an elaborate wave in the air first, she then put both hands into the thick paint. Swirling the paint around on the paper she shouted again, 'Look Miss, looks like a masterpiece to me, worth ten thousand pounds don't you think?'
Cynthia and Charlotte sat on their high stools giggling in the corner for no apparent reason and Rachel kept bursting into song.
Sarah was unusually quiet and lay on the table with her head in her arms.
'Stop that Gail and clean yourself up.' ordered Miss Strand as she spotted Sarah and walked over to her.
'Are you alright dear?' she said as she stroked Sarah's hair.
'No, Miss.' said Sarah weakly as she looked up towards the teacher, 'I feel...' she said as she suddenly held onto her mouth and rushed towards the sink, but she didn't make it and was sick all over the floor.
'Err¦ Miss she's been sick Miss,' said Gail as she stood next to the sink with the red paint dripping from her hands and onto the floor.
'You don't say,' said Mrs Strand sarcastically to Gail, 'Mary you seem to be normal, go and get the caretaker will you and ask if he could come and clean this up' then turning back to the sink she screeched, 'Gail, for crying out loud, WASH YOUR HANDS.'
'Ooo, are you in a bad mood then.' asked Gail stupidly.
Jane put her hand up and waved it frantically trying to get the teachers attention.
'Yes Jane, what is it, I am rather busy at the moment.' said the teacher as she dragged Gail's hands under the tap.
'Can I speak to you, in private please.' said Jane timidly.
After giving Gail, a pile of paper towels Mrs Strand took Jane to a quiet corner of the room.
'Their drunk Miss, you smell their breath, the cooks put brandy in the mincemeat.'
'What, are you sure?' asked Mrs Strand, looking around at her pupils.
Walking over to Gail she tried to smell her breath, but Gail wasn't in a cooperative mood.
'Whatcha you doing Miss.' she shouted as she ran away from the teacher and over towards the window.
'Come here.'
'Why,'
'I want to see if you've been drinking.'
'You're mad Miss, of course I haven't been drinking.' said Gail indignantly
'Let me smell your breath then.'
'No, you can't.' said Gail as tears welled up in her eyes.' I haven't Miss honest, I wouldn't, it's against my religion Miss.'
Mrs Strand looked at Gail and then back to Jane, which one could she believe. All eyes were on her, if she continued the class could get out of hand and so she decided to leave it.
'All right Gail, let's get on shall we, go on, go and finish your painting and use a paintbrush this time will you.'
Gail wiped her eyes, sat down next to Jane and giving her a dirty look she picked up a paintbrush, and after dipping it into the black paint she wrote the words, idiot, on the paper.
Jane couldn't believe what she had just seen, as Gail scrubbed out the words with the large brush.
'But I told her that the cook had put brandy in the mincemeat, Gail.' she protested.
'Yeah I bet you did.' said Gail sceptically.
'I did, honest Gail you ask Mary when she comes back.' said Jane sulkily, but Gail moved away to the other side of the table and turned her back towards her.
Mary returned with a very grumpy caretaker who slopped up the mess on the floor with a large mop and a bucket full of disinfectant.
'That's better.' said Mary as she sat opposite Jane.
'Tell her Mary, tell her about the cook.' said Jane urgently.
Mary looked at Jane's serious face and blurted out for all to hear. 'The cooks been putting brandy in the mincemeat.'
Gail's face changed, 'Oh.' she said weakly.
'Told you so.' said Jane smugly, as she drew a large red heart on her paper.

Two days later the lunch bell rang out, but recently the former frantic rush to lunch had slowed right down. Children sauntered up to the canteen counter to see what was on offer. Many had walked away preferring to go hungry than to eat that, slop, as one girl shouted out loudly, as she peered suspiciously at the greasy, brown mincemeat.
Mrs Stewart, the cook slammed the steel ladle down on the top of hot plate and glared at Florence the dinner lady. 'No need to do that Flo,' she said angrily, as Florence polished the plates on the hotplate, 'go and get the tapioca.' she said curtly as she shoved an outsized serving spoon into the watery cabbage,
Jane waved at Florence, but the dinner lady hadn't seen her as the cook was now watching her like a hawk as she set up the large rectangular containers with the lumpy mash potatoes and soggy peas.
Florence felt sorry for the children. Since the new cook took over in the kitchen the food on the new menu was now plain and tasteless.
'No good spoiling these kids,' said the cook bitterly, stirring the custard, 'good plain food is good enough for them. We didn't have all this choice when we were their age and it didn't hurt us. The more you give them the more they want, ungrateful brats.' she said as she wiped her sweaty brow on her lace handkerchief. Then polishing a large spoon with the same handkerchief, she pushed the spoon into the peas.
'That's it,' said Mary to Jane, 'I'm not eating any of that today, did you see what she just did. If my mum saw her do that she'd go ballistic.'
The cook walked over to the till, and watched with a frown on her face, as the three dinner ladies served up the food. Placing two scoops of mashed potatoes on the plate, Florence gave the girls an apologetic look as they stared at the lumpy potatoes, which the cook had prepared.
'Only one scoop Flo, HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?' the cook shouted, making the tiny dinner lady jump nervously and drop the spoon in her hand onto the floor.
Scowling at Florence as the fair haired woman went to wash the spoon in the sink, she yelled,' FOR GOODNESS SAKE FLO, A BIT OF DIRT ISN'T GOING TO HURT THEM, NEVER MIND WASHING IT, GET ON WITH IT WOMAN.'
But Florence wasn't going to use a dirty spoon, she went resolutely to the sink and washed it under the hot tap and then with a satisfied smile on her face, she returned to the serving counter.
'That's it! I've had enough of you, go on, get out of it, your sacked, go on, go and get your things¦. OUT.' spat the cook ferociously.
A gasped rippled through the crowd as Florence walked towards the door, throwing her apron into the sink.
Florence wasn't the type of woman to complain or to make a fuss.
'Maybe this is a blessing in disguise,' she thought as she picked up her large grey shopping bag and her beige raincoat. She had been so unhappy since this woman had taken over the kitchen. Smiling half-heartedly at the girls she opened the door, but then as an after thought she turned and looked the cook straight in the eye. 'You're going to regret this. You wait sooner or later they'll work out just what you're up to and then you'll get yours,' she said warningly.
'Yeah, yeah,' said the cook, sucking her teeth, 'go on¦ get out of here you old goat, go on clear off.'
The mood in the queue was tense and unusually quiet, as the rest of the girls collected their food.
The cook took their money and the dinner tickets from them with a stony look on her face and took no notice of the dirty looks or the muffled rude comments from many of the girls.
Scrutinizing each ticket carefully she tried her best to find fault.
'This isn't a real ticket.' she spat at Gail as the girl handed her the crumpled pink ticket.
'It got wet Miss.' said Gail pitifully.
The cook screwed up the ticket in her hand and then bending down towards the child she smiled and said, 'We don't accept damaged tickets.'
With that, she snatched the plate of food out of the girls' hands and laughed manically. The girl didn't know what to do; she stood there with her hands in the air, still holding the invisible plate.
Gail hadn't had any breakfast that morning and she was starving. Her mum had gone into hospital in the middle of the night and her father had forgotten to give her and her sisters any breakfast in his rush to get back to the hospital.
'But, Miss¦I¦I¦'
'Go on off you go, no food for you today my girl.' said the cook insistently.
'She's not you're girl,' spat Mary who was just behind Gail in the queue, 'there's nothing wrong with that ticket its wet that's all.'
'Damaged tickets will not be accepted and you lot know that.' said the cook smugly.
'Oh go on Miss, she hasn't had any breakfast,' piped up Katie from behind Mary, 'her mum went into hospital last night.'
'Rules are rules,' said the cook with a self satisfied look on her face, 'you girls think you can wheedle you're way around anyone, but not with me. I said no food and I mean no food, now go on, get lost.' she said brusquely as she waved a metal spoon in the air.
Mary was fuming, 'You can't talk to us like that!' she protested.
'Oh can't I,' said the cook as she snatched the sandwich out of Mary's hand, 'and I don't have to serve rude students like you either, go on clear off.'
Gail burst into tears and Mary tried to comfort her, 'Come on Gail we'll go and tell Miss Craig.'
'I don't care who you tell, I'm in charge here and no teacher can tell me what to do.' said the cook scathingly.
The cook enjoyed her power; she snatched the money from Katie's hand and threw her change onto the counter.
'Come on¦ get a move on.' she said irritably, as Katie fumbled to pick up the ten pennies she had given her for change, 'get the correct money ready girls.' she barked to the rest of the girls in the queue.
The cook stepped up the speed snatching the money from the girl's hands and moving them on hastily. In the confusion many of the girls went away counting their change and only realising, too late, that they had been cheated. Looking at the scowl on the cook's face many didn't dare return to confront her.
Anne gave her a scared look as she handed over her one pound fifty. The cook dropped the money into the drawer and slammed it shut. Anne waited with her hand held out waiting for the change.
'What are you waiting for, go on get along.'
'You owe me forty pence.' said Anne bravely.
'No I don't,' said the cook, 'you gave me one pound, ten pence, you have no change.'
'I gave you one pound, fifty and that's one pound, ten pence' said Anne pointing to the food on the counter, 'so you owe me forty pence.'
'No you didn't, now get out of here before I call the Head teacher.'
Anne pleaded with the cook,' Please Miss that's my bus fare home. I can't walk home it's too far.'
'Lazy that's what your generation is; when I was young I had to walk miles to get to school.'
'But its not you're day Mrs Stewart,' said Miss Jones who was on duty and listening carefully 'it's a lot more dangerous for Anne to walk through her estate, that's why she catches the bus.'
'She's probably spent her money on sweets and now she's trying to get her bus fare from me. If I'm short, then it has to come out of my wage packet.' said Miss Stewart sulkily.
'You may have made a mistake.' said Miss Jones, smiling at Anne and holding her by the shoulder.
'I don't think so, I never make mistakes.' said the cook indignantly.
'Could Anne come back later when you've counted your takings and if you find that you're over by forty pence then you could give it back to her?'
'I could, I suppose. Come back later then¦ at three o'clock.'
'There you are Anne,' said Miss Jones pulling Anne over towards the door, 'and if she doesn't come up with the forty pence Anne then you come and see me.' she added as she winked her eye at the sad faced girl.
'Thanks Miss.' said Anne, running over to the table next to the door and sitting opposite Mary and Katie.
'Did you see that?' said Anne shakily, putting her tray on top of the table.
'I told you she was rude.' said Mary giving the cook a dirty look.
'And look at the slop she's serving up, its disgusting.' said Anne, as she splashed the slimy tapioca with her spoon.
*
Mrs Stewart smiled wickedly as she put on her long grey coat and walked through the school gates at two twenty. The sun shone brightly in the sky as she counted the fourteen pounds she had made, which included Ann's forty pence. It had been a good day and this would pay for her regular outing to the Bingo that night.
*
Mrs Hunter opened the boot of the car and called to the small wire-haired dog, 'Come on Bluey, let's go.'
The tiny brown dog pricked up its ears, with its tail wagging enthusiastically, jumped out of the car and ran towards the school sniffing at the small patch of grass next to the steps.
The dog squatted down on the edge of the patch and Mrs Hunter cooed, 'There's a good girl.' as she took her green briefcase from the back seat of her car.
Mrs Hunter studied the outside of the building before walking up the steps, she was very proud to be the Head teacher of the school and tying a pink scarf around her neck, she clipped on a round silver broach and straightened up the scarf using the reflection of herself in the glass doors.
Pushing open the door, she noticed that the suggestion box next to the reception was particularly full, and after saying a bright 'Good morning,' to Gillian the receptionist, who was busy speaking to someone on the telephone. Unlocking the box, she pulled out the pieces of paper and was surprised to find that they actually had writing on them, as they were usually blank.
Throwing the papers onto her desk, taking off her coat and hanging it onto the wooden coat stand beside the door, she sat down in her high-backed, leather chair in her office.
'Come in.' she said as she heard a small tap on the door,
'Hello Katie, and what can I do for you?'
'Can I take Bluey out for her walk Miss.' said Katie patting the excited dog on the head. Bluey suddenly lay down on the floor, turned over onto her back and waited with her paws in the air for Katie to tickle her tummy and Katie obliged.
Mrs Hunter chuckled at the sight, 'Of course you can Katie, but make sure that you only go around the trees, next to the car park and¦'
'And¦ be careful not to get her run over.' interrupted Katie cheekily.
Mrs Hunter smiled as Katie ran off down the corridor with the dog jumping up and down excitedly by her side.
Mrs Hunter sat at her desk, straightened the crumpled papers from the suggestion box and began to read them. Nearly all of them were about the cook except one, which as usual complained about the lack of soap in the toilets, and more surprisingly, it looked like different people had written them.
Putting the complaints into four piles, she scrutinized them carefully. The first pile was about the tasteless food; the second about the cook's rudeness, and the last was about the cook giving out the wrong change.
Mrs Hunter walked over to the window and watched Katie playing with Bluey on the grass next to the trees.
What could she do? Mrs Stewart; was very pleasant to her and ran the canteen both efficiently and effectively. It was time to see just what was happening in the canteen for herself.
The cook was passing by the Head teacher's door just as Mrs Hunter was speaking to her personal assistant.
'Heather, ask Miss Jones if she would mind doing my duty in the car park will you. I want to have a look in the canteen this lunchtime.'
Katie walked down the corridor and saw Mrs Stewart acting suspiciously outside the Head teacher's door.
Bluey growled as they approached the woman, who on seeing Katie began searching through her large handbag pretending to look for something.
'Oh, there they are,' she said as she pulled out a large set of keys and shook them in the air, as Katie came nearer.
Katie drew in the leash as Bluey began to bark viciously at the woman.
Mrs Stewart put her hand out towards the dog, 'There, there I won't hurt you,' she said gently
Katie pulled Bluey back just in time as the dog suddenly snapped at the cooks fingers.
'Bluey, bad dog, stop it,' shouted Katie as she gave the cook an apologetic look and said, 'sorry she doesn't usually bark at anyone, I don't what's got into her.'
Mrs Stewart stepped back in horror and ran off towards the kitchen cursing and swearing to herself.
The cook was now in such a bad mood and every one of the dinner ladies felt the edge of her spiteful tongue, but she pulled out all stops and produced a wonderful menu for lunch.
The dinner ladies couldn't believe it and wondered why she had had such a change of heart.
Pizzas, with a variety of toppings and chips, juicy chicken drumsticks, fresh green salad, sweet corn and mixed vegetables, followed by either creamy rice pudding or sponge pudding with pink icing on the top and smooth, lump free custard was today's feast.
The word soon spread throughout the school and when the Head teacher arrived she couldn't understand why she had received so many notes of complaint, and the children couldn't understand why the food was so good.
Mary sat watching the smiling faces, as the children sat down with their lunches.
Mrs Hunter watched from the door and as Mary walked by asked, 'Good food Mary?'
'Yeah it makes a change; it's amazing it's not usually like this.'
'Oh yes, in what way?'
'Usually we get mash potatoes, greens and mincemeat in gravy on Monday's, but sometimes we get Bolognaise, that is mincemeat with tomatoes, but without the spaghetti.'
Mrs Hunter was not stupid she knew that this had all been prepared for her benefit, she felt so angry.
How dare she try to pull the wool over my eyes, she thought as the cook waved cordially at her, but she would bide her time and if the cook was trying to fool her then she would have her out of the school kitchen in next to no time.
The following day the standard of the food at lunchtime was still good, but not as good as the day before and by the following week, Mrs Stewart had revealed the truth.
Monday was back to the usual mincemeat, potatoes and cabbage and on Tuesday, half of the staff had succumbed to what many thought as being a stomach bug.
Even Miss Craig, who always came into work no matter what, looked like death warmed up. She was a real trooper and battled through colds, flu, and many an upset stomach with ease, but this bout finally sent her home.
The lessons that day were great, the shortage of teachers and the fact that half the school were off with the tummy bug meant that many of the classes watched videos.
Katie had succumbed to the illness the day before, but felt well enough that morning and so bravely attended school.
In the Maths lesson her stomach began to churn. It felt like bubbles rushing around inside her intestines and then the gripping pain in her lower stomach, made her bend over double. Holding onto her stomach with one hand, she held her other hand up in the air and waved it frantically at the teacher.
The Maths teacher knew exactly what she wanted,
'Go on Katie, Jenny will you go with her.' he said as the pair ran out of the door, down the corridor and towards the toilets.
'Wait outside please,' begged Katie breathlessly, as she held onto her skirt waistband and squeezing hard as another wave of pain swept through her lower stomach.
'Just shout if you need me,' said Jenny,' and don't lock it,' she shouted through the door as Katie disappeared.
Katie came back out of the toilet, red faced and sweaty, but with a smile of relief on her face, 'That's better.' she sighed.
'Wait here, I'm going to get a drink.' said Jenny.
'I wouldn't if I was you,' said Katie seriously, 'the smell in there might just knock you out.'
Jenny held onto her nose and ran in, but she ran back out in seconds.
'You're not wrong.' she said cheekily, waving her hand in front of her face.
Katie's stomach was beginning to bubble and gripe again. She looked anxiously at Jenny.
'It's alright I'll wait here for you.' said Jenny sympathetically
After ten minutes Katie reappeared,' I think that's the last of it for now.' she said weakly as she tucked her shirt into her skirt.
'I don't think I really want to know that.' giggled Jenny as Katie slumped down onto the floor next to her.
The pair sat on the floor in the corridor, outside of the toilet and watched as another two girls raced in.
'I hope they've brought their own toilet paper, I've used most of it.' said Katie.
'You know I think that new cook has poisoned the school.' whispered Jenny into Katie's ear, 'did you eat any of that new chilli on Monday?'
'Yes, but only a small bit, it was far too spicy for me. 'said Katie, screwing up her nose at the thought of it.
'I reckon she's doing it deliberately, putting something in the food. Did you see her face I haven't seen her that happy since Miss Hunter visited the canteen. You know the rest of the dinner ladies hate her. I heard two of them complaining about her dirty habits the other day. She doesn't wash her hands when she's uses the loo and she wipes her dripping nose with the back of her hand or even on the tea towel.'
'What the tea towel she has on her belt.'
'Yes that's the one,'
The two girls looked at each other and in unison squealed, 'Err¦'
'That's disgusting,' said Katie earnestly, 'I'm not eating any more of her food then.'
*
The kitchen reopened when the health inspectors found nothing suspicious in the kitchen, but they had not found the pot full of mincemeat and the senna pod leaves, which the cook had hidden down in the boiler room, just before they had searched the rest of the premises. The cook had successfully thrown the contents, and the pot itself, into the furnace when the caretaker had gone off home with the same so-called tummy bug.
After spending three days in the hospital on a drip Mrs Hunter returned to school looking pale and sickly. She didn't relish speaking to the cook about the situation and could not face her that day, as she was still feeling very weak.
She slipped a note into the cook's pigeonhole, which asked her to attend a meeting with her the following morning.
Mrs Stewart screwed up the note after reading it and threw it into the dustbin.
'Who does she think she is the Queen of Sheba, 'she thought, 'please attend at seven thirty a.m. on Thursday, that's ridiculous, why should I come in that early for her, its not as if I'll get paid for it.' she said out loud, as she became angrier and angrier at the thought of the Head teachers request.
However, when she arrived at the Head teacher's office, at seven-thirty the following morning, there was nobody around.
Mrs Stewart shut the door behind her and wandered over to the Heads desk and when she was sure that nobody else was around, she began rummaging through the papers. She found the Heads report on kitchen standards and sat in the leather chair behind the desk, seething as she read through it. Words on the page like incompetent, aggressive, unhygienic and theft made her even angrier. In her rage, she swept all of the papers off the desk and onto the floor. She threw the crystal inkwell at the door, but it bounced on the soft carpet and rolled under the coffee table. Mrs Hunter's photograph of Bluey was next, as she hurled it out of the window where it smashed on the ground outside.
A small growl from the corner of the room caught her attention.
The tiny dog standing with her front paws outside of her soft dog basket began to yap at the woman.
'Oh shut up.' she said crossly.
'I've gone too far,' she thought, 'how on earth am I going to get out of this mess?'
Quickly she fell to her knees and began to pick up the papers she had scattered over the floor. Folding up the kitchen report, she put it into her pocket and tidied up the rest of the papers on the desk. Then dropping the chipped inkwell into the top drawer she pushed it towards the back and covered it up with some tissues.
Bluey approached the woman and began to snarl at her showing her tiny pointed teeth.
'GET BACK INTO YOUR BED, GO ON, GO AWAY YOU FLEA BAG.' Mrs Stewart shouted as she kicked the dog in the head with her large foot. The tiny dog yelped and ran behind the desk.
Mrs Stewart now sat nervously in the red chair beside the coffee table, wringing her hands in her lap and trying to think of what she could say, it would have to be good otherwise, she could see the Head giving her the sack on the spot.
From behind the desk the growls from the tiny dog increased.
'SHUT UP.' yelled Mrs Stewart edgily.
Bluey emerged from behind the desk with blood dripping from her mouth. Creeping towards the woman, she barked viciously, as she snapped her tiny sharp teeth at her.
Saliva ran down the dogs pointed teeth as Mrs Stewart said nervously, 'Good dog,' as she held her hands out in front of her, to keep the creature away.
Suddenly the small dog pounced and sank its teeth, deep into the yellowing flesh of the cook's index finger. Mrs Stewart screamed in agony as she held onto the bitten finger and shouted 'Oh my god it's bitten me, it's bitten my finger, go on get out of it¦ get away.'
The dog began to snap at her ankle as she tried to kick the dog away, but the dog was far too quick for her and left several, small round bite marks on her left ankle as she ran behind the chair.
Snatching up a magazine next to the chair, she tried beating the snapping dog on the nose with it, but instead a tug of war ensued, with the dog finally pulling the frayed paper out of the woman's hands and tossing it across the room.
Staring the woman in the eye, Bluey crouched low and began to approach her victim ready to pounce again.
Mrs Stewart looked for an escape, but now with her back against the wall there was no way out. Sweat poured down her face, the pain in her ankle and finger was terrible, the blood drained from her face and she felt light headed.
She tried to dodge the creature, but it followed her keeping its small brown eyes on her every move. She could do nothing and as the room began to swim before her eyes, she began to loose consciousness. Her legs buckled and finally gave way beneath her, as she slowly slumped towards the floor, beaten.
She lay on the floor bitten and bleeding, but the dog was not finished. Regaining consciousness she was horrified to see the creature about to pounce up onto her chest, but a noise from the office outside made the dog stop to listen. With its small floppy ears now sticking up in the air, it looked towards the door.
While the dog was distracted, Mrs Stewart got up like grease lightening and running towards the window, with her skirt and coat flying behind her, she jumped out of the window head first and landed in the bushes below, just before the office door opened.
Mrs Hunter arrived back at her office after checking the school building and the mail in Heathers in tray. She was pleased to see that the cook had not yet arrived, as she didn't relish seeing her.
'Hello Bluey,' she said as the tiny dog came up to her wagging its tail excitedly, 'there's a good girl,' she said as she patted the doting dog on the head and scratched her behind the ear, 'now I've got some unpleasant business to take care of Bluey, so you be a good girl and go back into your bed.' The small dog jumped back into her bed and sat with her large, sad eyes looking up at her owner.
Mrs Hunter heard a small knock on the door. She could have sworn that she had seen a red flash through the glass, but it wasn't the large reflection of the cook.
'Yes, come in,' she said as she opened up her draw in her desk to get a pen.
Katie popped her head around the door and smiling sweetly asked, 'Can I take Bluey for her walk, Miss?'
Bluey's ears popped up and barked at Katie, but stayed obediently in her blue basket.
'Have you seen Mrs Stewart Katie.' asked Mrs Hunter as she rummaged through her papers on top of the desk, trying to find the report about the kitchen.
Katie smiled and said knowingly, 'No miss, but I don't think you'll see her again, will she Bluey.' she said as she stroked the tiny dog on the head.
'Do you think so Katie?' said the Head teacher in a puzzled tone, 'go on then Bluey, off you go.'
Katie ran out of the room after Bluey, who was now sprinting down the corridor and towards the car park.
*
The cook was livid; she wrapped her bleeding finger in her lace handkerchief and headed back towards the kitchen.
She wasn't going to let that woman have the satisfaction of sacking her. She would give in her notice first. Sitting down at her desk in the small kitchen office, she wrote a most scathing letter, which not only told the head where to put her job, but also questioned the Head teacher's parentage. After folding the paper up, she then stuffed it into an envelope and left it on top of the desk, but this was not enough for her. Looking around the kitchen, she spotted a small cardboard box under the kitchen sink. Picking it up she shook the rat poison inside and smiled wickedly. Searching the rest of the room, she found another three traps, all with pellets of poison in them. She would have to act quickly, as the rest of the kitchen staff would arrive in fifteen minutes time.
Looking through the large rectangular containers in the storeroom, she found a pot full of cold tapioca. Stirring it around with the large wooden spoon, she smiled childishly as she held the poison above it, but just as she was about to tip the first lot into the pot, the tapioca began to bubble and swirl.
Small, blue-lightening flashes leapt out from around the edges of the pot and all of a sudden, two white hands with puss-ridden boils all over them slowly emerged from the container and grabbed the cook by the arms making her drop the poison onto the floor.
Shrieking hysterically, she struggled to get free, but the hands pulled her down towards the great white mass. Sinking her teeth into the right hand of the monster, she heard a popping sound as the putrid puss from one of the large yellow boils, filled her mouth. The beast let go of her arm and shook the blood from the gash in its hand, all over the floor. She tried to spit the puss out as she hit the other hand, which was still holding her, hard with her fist, but its grip was like iron and it was not going to let her go. With her hair flying in all directions, the monster's bleeding hand stretched up, and once again seized hold of her, but this time it snatched hold of a clump of her hair and began to pull her head downwards. With her one free hand she tried with all her might to stop herself from being dragged down into the pot. She hit out and tried to tear her hair out of the monsters grip, but the beast gave one great pull, and as her feet slipped on the slippery tapioca, which had spilled out onto the floor; her cheek touched the cold slimy goo in the pot.
Screaming and cursing vehemently, she tried to keep her head out of the swirl of tapioca, but the creature was too strong for her and as it pulled her in further, her screams for help became gurgles as the sweet pudding filled her mouth. The cook's legs kicked out madly as the hands pulled the rest of her body down into the swirling mess.
*
It was strange, the cook had not arrived for her interview with the Head, not that the Head was upset with that. What she was upset with was the cook had abandoned the kitchen and to add to this she had also stolen the petty cash.
Heather tried again and again to get in contact with the cook's home, but with no success. Her family hadn't seen her and nobody seemed to know of her whereabouts and so after three days the Head informed the police. The police were not surprised and informed Mrs Hunter that she wouldn't see her again as she had done exactly the same thing at two other schools in the past.
A week after her disappearance, Florence now reinstated and the new head cook, found the envelope with Mrs Stewart's message, which had dropped down behind the desk, and had handed it to Mrs Hunter. The Head in turn passed it onto the police who decided, that with this new evidence that the cook had clearly run off with the cash and she wasn't likely to return to the school.
In the heads office, Katie took Bluey's leash off her collar, after their usual outing and walked back towards the door.
'How did you know Katie?' asked Mrs Hunter curiously.
'Know what Miss?'
'You know the other day you said that we wouldn't be seeing the Mrs Stewart again.'
Katie winked her eye, 'Ah¦that's for me to know and for you to find out,' quipped Katie cheekily, as she skipped out of the door.
Everything was going so well. Katie had now read all of the handbooks on each of the creatures in her care and could feel her powers of control growing. Pulling out a small piece of pink paper from her shirt pocket, she checked the list written on it. Mr Jacks and Mrs Stewart's name had been scribbled out with a purple pen and next was the terrible Belinda.