Friday Barnes 3 (10 page)

‘Ew, gross!' exclaimed the crowd.

‘Just as I suspected,' said Friday. ‘Chook poo.'

‘What?' said the Vice Principal.

‘The race was run on linoleum flooring and bitumen,' said Friday. ‘And yet Jason has muddy shoes, because he jumped out of a window and landed in a flower bed. And I know for a fact that only this morning Mr Pilcher put chicken manure on all the flower beds on the east side of the school.'

‘Circumstantial evidence,' said Jason. ‘My shoes could have got dirty anywhere.'

‘Then there was the hug you gave Princess Ingrid,' said Friday. ‘According to her, you were disgustingly wet and sweaty.'

‘He was,' said Princess Ingrid. ‘I'm going to have to get my entire outfit dry-cleaned.'

‘But that's impossible,' said Friday. ‘The race only takes two minutes. But it takes the human body
ten minutes from initial exertion for sweat to appear on the body and face. Look about you – even now, the other runners are panting but they are not sweaty. They will be in another three minutes.'

‘So I ran faster,' said Jason, ‘and I start sweating faster, too.'

‘But I can prove the liquid on your face and body is not sweat,' said Friday. She stepped forward and ran her finger down Jason's cheek then licked it.

‘Ew!' chorused the crowd again.

‘Just as I suspected,' said Friday. ‘No salt. That liquid is not sweat – it's water from the sprinkler Mr Pilcher set up in the rose garden. I bet right now there's a muddy footprint in your shoe size on the windowsill of the biology classroom.'

‘Cheating is allowed in the rules.' Jason had a look on his face as if he would like to strangle Friday, but the race was over so heedless violence would no longer be acceptable.

‘Cheating is allowed,' agreed Friday, ‘but to win, an entrant must run around the whole course.'

The Vice Principal took the Potato Dash Cup from Jason, who seemed like he was about to burst into tears. The Vice Principal handed the cup to
Princess Ingrid, who turned to Binky. She glared at him. ‘I'm going to present this to you, but that does not give you the right to hug me,' she warned.

‘Are you sure?' said Friday. ‘You're safe for another minute before he starts sweating.'

‘Quite sure,' said Princess Ingrid, handing over the cup.

‘I'll give you a hug,' said Debbie, turning to Binky. ‘To thank you for your chivalrous behaviour.'

‘All right,' said Binky.

His head and neck turned bright red with embarrassment, but he bent over and gave Debbie a big bear hug. She smiled. Binky then clearly did not know what to do, because he gave Debbie a playful punch on the shoulder that nearly knocked her over.

‘And now for the ceremonial kicking in the pants,' said the Vice Principal. ‘You have to kick Debbie.'

‘Oh, I'd never dream of doing that,' said Binky. ‘Can I kick Jason instead?'

‘Just this once, I am prepared to bend the rules,' said the Vice Principal.

Binky gave Jason a kick that would make his rugby coach proud.

When Friday and Melanie arrived at breakfast, everyone in the dining hall was watching Princess Ingrid be rude to Mrs Marigold.

‘This is ridiculous!' Princess Ingrid declared.

‘What's going on?' Friday whispered to Ian, who was sitting by the door.

‘Apparently, the princess doesn't like kippers,' he said.

‘I shall not eat this,' continued Princess Ingrid in a
loud voice. ‘I refuse to eat fish. They are nasty, smelly creatures that swim around in their own poo.'

‘They are a good source of protein and essential fatty acids,' said Mrs Marigold.

‘They are slimy,' denounced Princess Ingrid. ‘And I will not put one in my mouth.' She dropped her tray with a clatter and regally strode from the dining hall.

‘I've never seen a royal tantrum before,' said Melanie. ‘I'm quite impressed.'

‘She's definitely got a flare for the dramatic,' agreed Friday, as they joined Debbie in the food queue.

‘Your roommate has impressive voice projection,' said Melanie.

‘She certainly does, but forget about that,' said Debbie. ‘Did you hear about the lacrosse shed?'

‘No,' said Friday. ‘I didn't even know there was one.'

‘Well, it burned down last night,' said Debbie. ‘Didn't you hear the sirens?'

‘No, I was listening to Latvian language lessons,' said Friday. ‘Just in case I come across any vicious Latvian-understanding dogs again.'

‘Well, there were lots of sirens,' said Debbie. ‘First the fire engine came, then an ambulance,
because one of the firemen had an allergic reaction to something in the shed and went into anaphylactic shock.'

‘You're very well-informed,' observed Friday.

‘Oh, I overhead Rasmus the bodyguard briefing Princess Ingrid,' explained Debbie.

‘One of the benefits of having a royal roommate,' said Melanie.

‘It's just about the only one,' grumbled Debbie.

It was Debbie's turn to be served. Mrs Marigold gave her a generous portion of kippers. The queue shifted forward and Friday held out her tray.

‘Hello Mrs Marigold,' she said brightly.

Mrs Marigold scowled, scooped up the tiniest possible portion and flicked it onto Friday's plate.

‘Is that all there is?' asked Friday.

‘It's all you're getting,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘Next!'

‘But I'm hungry,' protested Friday.

‘You should have thought about that before,' said Mrs Marigold.

‘Is this about the ban on kidney pie?' asked Friday.

‘What have you got to do with the ban on kidney pie?' asked Mrs Marigold.

‘Nothing,' lied Friday. ‘So what have I done to upset you?'

‘You brought him here,' said Mrs Marigold, tears started to well in her eyes.

‘Oh, has my father said something to upset you?' asked Friday.

Mrs Marigold sniffed and dabbed her eyes with the corner of her apron. ‘If only it was just that. I can take people talking nonsense to me all day long. I'm used to cheeky children and pompous teachers. But he broke my heart!'

‘You're in love with my father?!' exclaimed Friday.

‘Of course not!' retorted Mrs Marigold. ‘Have you seen him lately? He needs a good hard scrub with a loofah and a proper haircut before any sane woman would look at him.'

‘Then what has he done?' asked Friday.

‘He stole my microwave,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘It was a Sunbeam Pro 3000. I loved that microwave.'

‘That doesn't sound like Dr Barnes,' said Melanie. ‘He isn't exactly the stealing type.'

‘No, actually, it's just the sort of thing he would do,' said Friday, ‘if he thought he could use it in an experiment. It would never occur to him to ask.'

‘Or perhaps he's The Pimpernel!' said Melanie.

‘What?' said Friday.

‘In the book, the Scarlet Pimpernel pretends to be a bumbling fool so no-one will suspect him of thievery,' said Melanie. ‘So maybe your father's socially incompetent, shambolic exterior is really just a brilliant disguise.'

‘Have you told the Headmaster about it?' asked Friday, turning to the cook.

‘Never!' exclaimed Mrs Marigold. ‘I'm not a tattletale.'

‘But you're prepared to take it out on my portion size, even though you've got no evidence or proof?' said Friday.

‘If you can prove he didn't do it,' said Mrs Marigold, ‘I might consider allowing you to have full portions again.'

‘You can't withhold food from a child,' argued Friday.

‘You can have some of mine if you like,' offered Debbie.

‘If you give it to her, I'll take it back,' threatened Mrs Marigold. ‘Then there will be two hungry children.'

Debbie looked horrified. ‘Sorry, Friday, I love kippers!' She scampered away with her breakfast.

‘Are you going to report me to the Headmaster?' asked Mrs Marigold.

Friday frowned.

‘I thought not,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘Because if you complain about my portions, then I'll explain about my missing microwave, and you don't want the Headmaster to find out about that because then you'd drop your father in it.'

‘All right,' said Friday, ‘I'll investigate. But I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding.'

‘A misunderstanding is when you accidentally pick up someone else's umbrella,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘It's not when you deliberately walk off with a microwave that isn't yours.'

‘I'll come and investigate the scene of the crime after the breakfast service,' said Friday.

‘Fine by me,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘But there's not much to see – just a space where a microwave used to be.'

An hour and a half later, Friday was closely inspecting the kitchen bench with a magnifying glass, while Mrs Marigold sat with her feet up, sharpening her knives ready for the next day. Melanie kept her company, eating some leftover pudding (Friday was not offered any).

The industrial-sized dishwasher chugged away on the far side of the kitchen as Friday methodically searched. She prided herself on being able to find traces of evidence in any circumstance. But in this instance Mrs Marigold kept her kitchen so spotlessly clean, there was no dust or dropped flour for Friday to find footprints in. There were no fingerprints, either.

‘Do you think The Pimpernel is a kleptomaniac?' asked Melanie.

‘“Kleptomaniac” is just a fancy psychiatrist word for nasty thief,' said Mrs Marigold.

‘It's a medical condition,' said Friday.

‘Being a low-down good-for-nothing is not a medical condition. It's a character flaw,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘I don't know why you're bothering to search here. It's your father's rooms you should be going through.'

Mrs Marigold looked at the blade she was sharpening. The edge evidently met with her satisfaction
because she tested it by running the knife along the back of her arm, shaving off some hair.

‘Is that how you always test the sharpness of a knife?' asked Friday.

‘Why?' asked Mrs Marigold. ‘Is there something else you think I should be cutting?'

Friday decided it was best to change the subject. ‘What makes you suspect my dad?'

‘Those loonies in the science department are always after my microwave,' said Mrs Marigold.

‘They are?' asked Friday.

‘Just last week, Mr Davies wanted it,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘Said he need to demonstrate crystallisation to his year 7 class.'

‘Did you let him have it?' asked Friday.

‘Of course not,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘I know what scientists are like. Always experimenting. It would start off with a crystal demonstration and, before you know it, he'd be making lava or microwaving dissected frogs.'

‘So why don't you suspect Mr Davies?' asked Friday.

‘Because Mr Davies is comparatively normal,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘He is properly cowed when
I yell and threaten him with a soup ladle. He won't try messing with me again. Your father is a different kettle of fish.'

‘In what way?' asked Friday.

‘He's always hanging round here,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘Complimenting me on my cooking and how lovely I look.'

‘Really?' asked Friday.

‘He's not very good at it, mind you,' continued Mrs Marigold. ‘But he's always saying these awkward, flowery things, like “your raspberry cheesecake explodes with taste like a type-two star disintegrating in a supernova”.'

‘That does sound like him,' said Friday.

‘And how my meat pie “fills him with the –”'

‘Okay,' interrupted Friday, ‘I think we've heard enough. I'll go and talk to him.'

‘Yes, you do that,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘And get my microwave back while you're there.'

‘Just one more question,' said Friday. ‘Has anything else gone missing recently?'

‘No,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘Except …'

‘What?' asked Friday.

‘Well, I did lose an extra-large jar of peanut butter.'

‘I thought you weren't allowed to have peanut butter in the school in case a student is allergic,' said Friday.

‘I like it,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘I'm allowed to have peanut butter on toast when I start work in the morning. I'm a grown-up.'

‘Perhaps that's why The Pimpernel stole it,' said Melanie, as she finished her bowl of pudding. ‘Because it's forbidden fruit.'

‘Have you found any calling cards with a picture of a blue flower on them?' asked Friday.

‘
Aquamarine
flower,' Melanie corrected her.

‘Oh yes,' said Mrs Marigold, taking a handful of cards out of her pocket. ‘They're everywhere.'

‘Really?!' said Friday.

‘The kids think it's so funny,' said Mrs Marigold. ‘They've all got them made up. If they want seconds of pudding, they put a card on their tray and say The Pimpernel stole it.'

‘That would be the perfect cover for the real Pimpernel,' said Melanie.

‘Or perhaps your nutty father took that as well for some crazy reason of his own,' said Mrs Marigold.

‘The Headmaster likes peanut butter,' said Melanie. ‘Perhaps it was him.'

‘No, he could just confiscate it if he wanted some,' said Friday. ‘Something strange is going on here.'