Monstrous Maud: Spooky Sports Day Read online

  First published in Great Britain in 2012 by Buster Books,

  an imprint of Michael O’Mara Books Limited,

  9 Lion Yard, Tremadoc Road, London SW4 7NQ

  www.busterbooks.co.uk

  www.monstrousmaud.co.uk

  Series created by Working Partners Limited

  Text copyright © Working Partners Limited 2012

  Cover design by Nicola Theobald

  Illustration copyright © Buster Books 2012

  Illustrations by Sarah Horne

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN: 978-1-78055-073-2 in paperback print format

  ISBN: 978-1-78055-081-7 in Epub format

  ISBN: 978-1-78055-080-0 in Mobipocket format

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  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Maud’s pet rat Quentin peeked up out of the top pocket of her polo shirt. When he saw Penelope, he squeaked with fear and dived back down again.

  Maud heard sniggering behind her, and turned to see her least favourite classmate. Poisonous Penelope was a witch with a ragged black dress, a pointy hat and long purple hair, and she never missed an opportunity to bully Paprika and Maud.

  “Come on, Paprika! It’s sports day soon,” shouted Maud. “You can do it. I know you can!”

  Paprika took a run up and flung the metal helmet towards the net. It bounced once, then twice ...

  ... and went a full broomstick wide of the goalposts, landing in the long grass beyond the playing field.

  “Bad show!” shouted the detached head of their PE teacher, Mr Galahad, from inside the helmet. At the side of the playing field, his armour-clad body was standing with its arms folded.

  Maud sighed and went over to find Mr Galahad’s head in the grass.

  “Over here, child,” he called, his bushy moustache twitching.

  “Found you, Sir,” said Maud. She picked the head up and tossed it back to Paprika, but it slipped through his fingers and flew all the way to the other side of the playing field.

  “Ouch!” roared the teacher’s head, as it rolled away. “Pay attention, boy! This helmet isn’t padded, you know!”

  “Sorry,” mumbled Paprika, looking round at his classmates and wincing.

  Class 3B had been playing Monsterball against Class 2C for half an hour, and Paprika hadn’t managed to score a single goal. No matter how close he stood to the net, actually throwing the head into it seemed to be beyond him.

  Maud felt sorry for Paprika. Because he was a vampire, everyone expected him to be strong and fast, and they couldn’t understand why he was terrible at PE. But Maud had recently discovered that Paprika was actually half-vampire and half-human. And it certainly wasn’t the vampire side he took after when it came to playing sports.

  Paprika fixed his gaze on the net, frowning hard, and threw the head again. This time it only got halfway there before it hit something and fell to the ground. Paprika looked away from his teammates, blushing with shame.

  “Ow,” shouted a voice from where the helmet had fallen. It was Isabel, Maud’s invisible classmate. “Stop throwing things at me! It’s bad enough that no one ever passes the helmet to me without having it lobbed at my head.”

  “He didn’t mean it,” said Maud. Paprika was her best friend at Rotwood School, and she didn’t like it when the other pupils were rude to him.

  “Stop making excuses for him,” said Penelope. “He’s about as much use as a chocolate cauldron. It’s only four days until sports day and, thanks to him, our class is going to come last.”

  “He might not be great at Monsterball,” said Maud, remembering something that had happened the week before, “but at least he isn’t a scaredy-cat who jumps out of his skin at the sight of a tiny doll.”

  “Any real monster would have been scared of that hideous thing,” said Penelope, narrowing her eyes. “If you ask me, it’s pretty funny that you weren’t.”

  Maud shifted around uncomfortably. The truth was that she was the only pupil at Rotwood who wasn’t a real monster. Penelope was a witch, Paprika was a half-vampire and Invisible Isabel was ... well, invisible. But Maud was just an ordinary human girl. She’d been transferred to Rotwood the week before and she’d pretended to be a ‘Tutu’ monster so she could stay. Rotwood was so much better than her old school, Primrose Towers.

  “Let’s get on with the game,” shouted Mr Galahad. His head had landed near an ants’ nest and his eyes were darting around nervously as a trail of the insects marched towards his nostrils.

  While Maud’s werewolf friend Wilf returned the head to the middle of the playing field, Maud reached into the top pocket of her polo shirt and stroked Quentin. Her pet rat was trembling from all the running about she had been doing. Poor Quentin was always nervous about something.

  “It’s all right,” she said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Play on!” boomed the voice from Mr Galahad’s helmet.

  Maud rushed forward and picked up the helmet. She made a solid run up the field, dodging a mummy and a demon on the way, and she was about to try for goal when Bartholomew Bones the skeleton boy lunged at her. Maud threw Mr Galahad’s head to the only teammate who was nearby.

  Unfortunately, that teammate was Paprika.

  Paprika dashed towards the helmet with his hands out. Maud held her breath. This time, it looked as though he might actually catch it. But just as the tips of his fingers were about to make contact with the spinning head, he tripped over his feet and went crashing down to the ground.

  “Enjoy your trip,” shouted Penelope.

  Mr Galahad’s head went rolling back into a muddy puddle.

  “Someone tied my laces together!” shouted Paprika.

  “Stop making excuses and get me out of this filthy soup,” gurgled Mr Galahad.

  Maud could see Penelope sniggering to herself at the side of the playing field. She knew what must have happened – Penelope had cast a spell to knot Paprika’s laces together. What a bully! It was bad enough when Penelope teased her friend, but casting a spell on him was the last straw. Time to give Penelope a taste of her own medicine.

  There wasn’t much a monster feared. Spiders, graveyards and rats were useless, but Maud had recently found out that monsters were terrified of pink, cute stuff like dolls or teddy bears. She knew one thing that was sure to scare Penelope.

  As the witch went running to pick up their teacher’s head, Maud shouted out, “Behind you! Bunny rabbit!”

  Penelope’s eyes went wide, and she turned to look, crashing into Oscar, the headless boy, so that they both fell flat on the ground. When she glanced up at Maud, her face was almost as purple as her hair. Without even getting up, she stretched out her arm and muttered under her breath again.

  Maud ducked, but she was too late. It felt like a huge hand had smacked into her stomach and she hit the ground so hard it knocked the wind out of her.

  Maud scrambled to her feet and charged at Penelope. All the pup
ils from 3B and 2C were crowding round, chanting, “Duel! Duel! Duel!”

  Just as Maud was getting close to the witch, a large bulk moved in between them. She skidded to a halt. It was the body of Mr Galahad. One hand was on his hip, while the other held out his soggy head, his moustache dripping with puddle water.

  “That’s quite enough, young ladies. This silly nonsense is the last thing we need,” shouted Mr Galahad. “Both of you go and see the Head right now!”

  Penelope’s face went very pale indeed.

  Maud sat on a rickety wooden chair outside the Head’s office, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

  Penelope was on the chair next to her with her hands in her lap, and Maud noticed they were trembling with fear. It wasn’t surprising. All the pupils at Rotwood were terrified of the Head, and the strange yowling sounds coming from inside the office probably weren’t helping.

  “Why are you quivering?” asked Maud. “Surely a scary witch like you can’t be frightened of the Head?”

  “I’m not f-f-frightened,” said Penelope. “I’m just a little c-c-cold.”

  “It seems warm enough to me,” said Maud, leaning back casually in her chair. She’d recently found out that the Head was actually the ghost of her great-aunt Ethel. So although she still found the Head a little spooky, she didn’t think she’d punish them too severely. After all, Maud was her great-niece.

  “Enter,” said a voice from inside. The large wooden door creaked open. The strange yowling stopped and a dozen pairs of green eyes gazed out of the dim room. Penelope tiptoed in, but Maud strode right through the doorway and plonked herself down on one of the large leather armchairs in front of the desk.

  The cats mewed and rubbed themselves against Maud’s legs, which made Quentin burrow deeper into her pocket.

  Maud looked down at him. “We won’t be here long,” she whispered.

  “You don’t know that,” said Penelope. “And stop talking to that stupid scaredy-rat of yours. Maybe I should bring my black cat Nightshade into school one day. Then he’d really have something to be nervous about.”

  As the silence stretched out, Maud began to wonder if this wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought. This was a school for monsters, after all, so who knew what kind of horrible punishments might be in store? Would an ordinary human girl even be able to survive them?

  The Head appeared out of thin air, making Maud and Penelope jump. She was sitting on the edge of her desk and peering down at them through her large round glasses. “Well, well, well,” she said. “I hear you girls have been fighting.”

  “Maud started it,” Penelope burst out.

  “That’s not true,” said Maud. “You were being spiteful to my friend Paprika. You really upset him.”

  “She said there was a bunny rabbit behind me,” said Penelope. “And there wasn’t.”

  “That was obviously a joke,” said Maud. “There was no need to cast a spell on me.”

  “Well, some things are too serious to joke about,” said Penelope. “Isn’t that right, Miss?”

  “That’s quite enough,” said the Head. “I had to listen to enough petty squabbling when I was alive. I don’t intend to waste my afterlife doing the same. Now, as I’m sure you’ll know, sports day is just around the corner. You won’t win anything unless you put aside these silly disagreements, will you?”

  “No, Miss,” said Maud and Penelope together.

  “I think you two need to learn the value of working together,” said the Head. “And that’s why I’m going to ask that you stay behind after school to help out the caretaker, Mr Quasimodo, in the greenhouse. Now, off you go.”

  As they made their way out of the office and down the dusty corridor, Maud let out a long sigh of relief. Gardening sounded boring, but it was much better than the kind of monster torture she’d been expecting.

  Penelope, however, was shaking even more than before.

  “I just don’t see what’s so bad about watering plants,” said Maud.

  “Well,” said Penelope, “you’ve obviously never been into Mr Quasimodo’s greenhouse.”

  A cold wind howled over the playing fields as Mr Quasimodo led Maud and a reluctant Penelope to the large greenhouse at the back of the school.

  “This way,” said Mr Quasimodo, shambling along with his arms swinging in front of him. He had green skin, patchy black hair and a stubby nose. Mr Quasimodo walked so bent over that his nose almost touched his knees.

  “Mr Quasimodo’s an ogre. He’s married to the school nurse,” whispered Penelope.

  Maud nodded. They followed him through the overgrown wilderness beyond the playing field as the sun set behind the school. Before they’d set out, Mr Quasimodo had given them white protective body suits, heavy boots, orange gloves and clear plastic visors. It should have made Maud feel more comfortable, but it only made her more nervous about what was inside the greenhouse.

  They passed a sign that read:

  “Are you sure we’re supposed to be here?” asked Maud.

  But Mr Quasimodo simply repeated, “This way,” and kept lurching onwards.

  Maud could see the huge glass structure of the greenhouse looming at the edge of the dense forest that surrounded the school grounds.

  She spotted another sign nailed to a tree:

  Penelope gulped loudly.

  Maud could feel Quentin rummaging in her pocket. It was just as well he couldn’t read.

  They passed a third warning sign:

  Behind it, the Rotwood greenhouse towered up against the darkening sky.

  It was the largest greenhouse Maud had ever seen, with a rusty metal framework housing hundreds of panes of glass. It was difficult to see in through the steamy windows, but Maud thought that the mass of greenery inside seemed to move around. Her stomach squirmed, and she silently cursed herself for getting into trouble.

  Mr Quasimodo handed Maud a rusty key. “Lock after,” he said. “Or big trouble.”

  He turned and lolloped back to the school.

  “After you,” said Maud.

  “No thanks,” said Penelope. “Tutus first.”

  Maud sighed. “Fine,” she said, and placed the key into the weather-beaten lock, giving it a sharp twist. As she shoved the door open, vapours of steam trailed out into the cold evening air.

  The greenhouse was swelteringly hot inside. Maud could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead as soon as she entered.

  Inside the huge building were countless rows of wooden trellises covered in dense green vines, so overgrown that they stretched all the way from the floor to the ceiling in places. And Maud hadn’t been imagining things – the plants were moving. All around her, the vines twisted and wriggled like giant green worms.

  In thick clay pots between the rows bright red flowers sprouted. They had spiky petals that looked like overgrown Venus flytraps. Each plant was the size of a tree. Maud could hear a low droning noise, but the vegetation grew so thickly she couldn’t see what was making it.

  Something swooped towards them. “Get down!” shouted Maud. She and Penelope threw themselves to the ground as the creature buzzed over them. It was a gigantic insect – a fly as big as a eagle. Just as it was about to turn and swoop down on them again, one of the red flowers lurched forwards and snapped its jaws shut around it.

  There was a horrendous squishing noise, and black goo splattered down to the floor.

  Quentin squeaked with fear inside Maud’s pocket. For once, Maud knew how he felt.

  Taking a deep breath, she got up and picked her way through tangled foliage over to the cupboard at the side of the greenhouse. “I suppose we’d better get on with it,” she said, handing a mop to Penelope.

  “I don’t see why I should,” said Penelope. “It’s your fault we’re here; you should do all the work.”

  “I’ll do my half,” said Maud, as she set about mopping up the pools of black gloop from underneath the plants. She cast the occasional glance upward in case any of them were looking h
ungry. The liquid was so thick that it was impossible to wring the mop out into the bucket. Grumbling loudly, Penelope made a start on the other side of the aisle.

  Maud ignored her and got on with her tasks. Mopping up the sticky liquid had been tough, but watering the plants was even harder. Every time Maud tried to approach one of them with her watering can, it turned around and snapped at her.

  “All right, Mr Plant,” she said to one of them. “I’m not a fly. I’m trying to help you.”

  “It can’t understand you,” said Penelope. “It’s just a plant. Although it’s probably still more intelligent than most of your friends, especially that puny little vampire.”

  “Paprika happens to be very clever,” said Maud. “He beat you on that Werewolf History test last week, didn’t he?”

  By the time Maud had finished, she was hot and bothered, and her white protective suit was black with grime. She hurried back to the cupboard to return her mop and watering can. Penelope did the same, even though she hadn’t got through her half of the plants yet.

  “Are you sure you’ve finished?” asked Maud.

  “What was that?” asked Penelope. “I thought I heard something.”

  “Stop trying to change the subject,” said Maud.

  “Down there,” said Penelope, pointing to a rustling clump of vines on the floor.

  A black and yellow caterpillar the size of a Labrador crawled out. It stopped to look at them with its antennae wiggling in the air, and then shuffled rapidly towards them.

  Maud and Penelope screamed at the top of their voices, and dashed towards the door as fast as they could, the caterpillar scuttling after them. Maud felt one of it antennae brush against the back of her leg, and ran faster.

  Penelope dived outside and Maud followed, slamming the door behind her.

  By the time Maud and Penelope had made it back to the school and changed out of their suits, the last bus was pulling out of the driveway. Maud tried running after it, but it was no use. It disappeared into the gloom of Rotwood forest, leaving just a cloud of black exhaust fumes behind.