Authors: Alan MacDonald
Angela Nicely (2 page)
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 passed
the 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 Hoover back on, but Angela was inspecting it.
“What does this do?” she asked.
Mr Grouch sighed. Schools would be much better without children, he thought, especially children who asked
annoying questions. All the same, the Hoover was new and he enjoyed showing it off.
“This is the Super Suction Arm,” he said. “Stand back.”
He turned on the Hoover.
VWOOOOOOM!
A scrap of paper vanished inside.
“See?” said Mr Grouch. “Dust, fluff, paper – it all gets sucked in here.”
“Wow!” said Angela, impressed. “Can it pick up anything? Even hair?”
“Hair? Yes, of course.”
“Can I have a go?” asked Angela.
“No, you can’t,” snapped the caretaker. “Now go and bother someone else.”
Angela tripped off down the corridor, smiling to herself. A Super Suction Arm might be just what she needed…
Back in class, everyone looked up when Angela came in.
“Eww! What’s that smell?” chanted the Payne twins.
“Pooh! Is that you, Angela?” mocked Tiffany Charmers, holding her nose.
Angela ignored them and sat down.
“What did Miss Skinner say?” whispered Laura.
Angela shrugged. “She just told me not to spy on her.”
“Well, I hope you’re satisfied,” said Maisie. “
Now
do you admit I’m right?”
“No,” replied Angela. “It’s a wig and I know how to prove it.”
Maisie groaned. The trouble with Angela was she never knew when she was beaten.
At half past three, the bell went. Children hurried out of the classrooms and swarmed through the main door.
Angela poked her head out of the cloakroom to check no one was about.
“Can’t we go home?” whined Laura.
“My mum will be cross if I’m late,” moaned Maisie.
But Angela took no notice. She hurried over to Mr Grouch’s cleaning cupboard and dragged out the Hoover.
“You can’t take that!” cried Laura.
“I’m only borrowing it,” said Angela.
“What for?” asked Maisie.
“To prove I’m right,” said Angela.
She dragged the Hoover down the corridor to Miss Skinner’s office and knocked on the door. There was no answer. She peeped in.
“ANGELA!” wailed Laura.
“It’s okay, she’s not there,” said Angela. “Come on!”
They tiptoed inside. Laura looked around anxiously. They were definitely not meant to be in here. Angela had landed them in trouble once already today. Miss Skinner would go potty if
she found them snooping in her room.
“Let’s go!” begged Maisie. “I don’t care who was right.”
“I’m right,” insisted Angela. “It’s a wig and this will prove it.”
“A Hoover?” said Laura.
“That’s right. Watch this,” said Angela, switching it on.
Unfortunately, the Super Suction Arm was pointing at Miss Skinner’s desk.
VWOOOOM!
A pile of papers took off and were gobbled up in an instant. Paperclips, pencils and pens vanished into the Hoover with a rattle. Some yellow tulips shot out of a vase and were swallowed whole.
“STOP!” cried Laura. “Turn it off!”
Angela pressed the “OFF” button. She looked round the Head’s office. The room looked like it had been hit by a hurricane.
“Ooops!” said Angela. “Quick, help me clear up.”
But it was too late. Footsteps were coming down the corridor.
“HIDE!” hissed Angela.
The door opened and Miss Skinner walked in. She stood there for a moment, speechless. Then she caught sight of a pink bow behind her desk.
“ANGELA!” she yelled.
Three faces peeped into view.
“It wasn’t my fault,” said Angela in a small voice.
“Then whose fault was it?” stormed Miss Skinner.
The three girls got to their feet.
“It was Angela’s idea,” said Maisie.
“We were only trying to help,” mumbled Laura.
“Yes,” nodded Angela. “I just wanted to clean your room to show I was sorry.”
“Clean it? You’ve destroyed it!” cried Miss Skinner. “And where did you get that Hoover?”
“I borrowed it,” said Angela. She glanced at Miss Skinner’s hair. If only she could get the Head to bend over the Super Suction Arm, her plan would work. But how? Then she had an idea.
“I think it’s broken!” she said suddenly.
“What?” said Miss Skinner.
“The Hoover. I think there’s something’s stuck in here. Look.”
“It better not be broken,” said Miss Skinner, peering into it. “It’s brand new.”
Angela took a deep breath – it was now or never. She turned the Hoover on.
VWOOOOM!
“ARGHHH!” squawked Miss Skinner. The Super Suction Arm had got hold of her hair and was trying to eat it. Laura and Maisie watched in horror as the Head struggled to escape.
“TURN IT OFF!” she screeched.
Angela switched it off. There was a long silence, filled only by Miss Skinner’s heavy breathing. Her frazzled hair stood on end as if she’d had an electric shock. One thing was certain, though – it was definitely real.
“Oh,” gulped Angela.
“Told you,” muttered Maisie.
Miss Skinner took a deep breath. She had spent a small fortune on her new hairstyle. “GET OUT!” she bellowed. “ALL OF YOU – OUT!”
“Well?” said Maisie, when they’d finally stopped running. “Now do you admit it? I was right all along.”
“Okay, okay,” sighed Angela. “You were right.” She lowered her voice. “But you know Mr Weakly?”
“Yes?” said Laura and Maisie.
“Now he
definitely
wears a wig.”
