Thank you for all the lovely reviews! Quick thank you to Gypsy Abby for the suggestion; I had a lot of fun composing the last chapter. Also, hopefully this chapter should put Gillian Kearney Fan's mind at rest!
The next three weeks flew by and then it was the week of the competition.
Two plays per night were to be shown, the shortest before the interval. Apart from the Holby play, the one by Taylor's school, St Cuthbert's, was the only full-length one. The rest were either forty five minutes or an hour in length.
St Cuthbert's was to be shown on the Monday night, and Holby Mixed Infants on the Thursday. Friday night the judges would come back and say things about the plays and then the winners would be announced. School for the infants would go on as normal with classes in the morning and a rehearsal after lunch, but the kids would be sent home an hour earlier to get some rest before they went to see the other kids' plays. None of the plays would end later than 8.30pm, which would give the kids time to catch up on their sleep. At least that was the plan. Neither Lofty nor Ethan was sleeping very well because of nerves. Lofty kept worrying that he'd let the school down, and Ethan kept worrying that he wouldn't win and see Disney.
"Cal, what's that please?" Mr Keogh's eagle eye spotted the catapult in Ethan's pocket. Ethan spoke up, earning a big fat Cal glare.
"Mr Keogh, it's for him to kill that Taylor with if she tries to attack him."
"Liar! I don't kill girls, it's just to make her jump if she gets clever with me any more. I can aim above her head."
"I'll have that, thank you, Cal."
Cal was horrified, a Gang Gift had been confiscated!
Mr Keogh gave one of his rare almost smiles.
"You can have it back for the play but you're not to fire it for real. You could have it as Prince Sebastian and pretend to aim it at the peasants to terrorise them. Taylor will see that from the audience and be very afraid. Then I'll take charge of it for you again."
"Can I have it back if we win, Mr Keogh?"
"No Cal. You don't want to get yourself deported from Disneyland resort for having a dangerous weapon, do you?"
Zax had to speak up.
"But Mr Keogh, it was a Gang Gift."
"Explain please, Zoe. Max, you keep your pie hole shut for now. I can't have you both talking at once."
"When someone new joins the Gang, they bring a Gang Gift and we save them for prizes for being clever or helpful."
"Well, a catapult's not a good idea for a Gang Gift. But let me repair the damage."
To their amazement Mr Keogh took a whole five-pound note from his pocket and handed it to Zoe.
"I trust I have your word of honour that that money will be for Gang Gifts only? Max may speak this time."
Max made the Gang Salute sign which was also very useful for swearing oaths with.
"It will Mr Keogh. But it's a massive huge amount of money, and…."
"Please go on, I would like to teach sums at some point this morning."
"Well… um… that kind of makes you a Gang Member, Mr Keogh?"
"Do I have to wear a silly hat or have a badge? Zoe?"
"No Mr Keogh, just come to meetings. You get sweets. We share all our sweets."
"Admirable, but alas I would prefer just to be an honorary member for now. Like a sleeping partner. Which I'll explain after we've all actually done some SUMS!"
The Gang were thrilled to bits and worked like Trojans for the next hour.
Mr Keogh would never have admitted it but he'd been one of those deprived children who never had a catapult. He had a nice back wall and planned on a bit of target practise in his spare time.
Lofty cuddled Eric Chiltern against his chest, stroking the kitten behind its ears. He was scared and Eric was nice to cuddle.
"I'll be glad when it's Thursday and we can just go on and do it. After that it'll be other people who have to decide stuff."
Eric purred and the little boy grinned placidly. Eric always understood, he was a top kitten.
Later, during the night, Ethan woke, shuddering and clung to Cal.
"Is it the skellington?" Cal asked, feeling remorse that he'd planted a scary image in his brother's mind.
"No, it's a big fat audience saying 'boo, we don't like that director.' And throwing rotten tomatoes."
"People aren't allowed to take rotten tomatoes into theatre places. It's umm… health and safety."
Ethan settled back into sleep, then dreamed about the skellington. But in his dream, Ethan bashed it hard and it fell to bits.
Max dreamed of a TV producer saying "That boy who dropped dead is very good, we'll put him in a show."
Zoe and Robyn both dreamed of a lovely wedding.
And Mrs Beauchamp and Miss Freeman dreamed of what they could do if the school won, and the Eurostar went into a tunnel…