Al took a deep breath and looked round at the slowly filling classroom. This was it, the big day, the one they had all been working so painfully towards.
He was early, which was unusual for him for any lesson but doubly so for Cookery. As he placed his small bag of ingredients on his table, he quickly and furtively checked that his newly finished “rat” was tucked safely out of sight. It was. He needed to keep it hidden until Miss discovered it. Hopefully, in her first mouthful.
As he stood there waiting, he wondered not for the first time if they really should be going through with this. Maybe Franklinstein did have a point, maybe they would one day need to know how to cook more than just a boiled egg, and he wasn’t sure he could do even that. But no, you couldn’t go through life insuring against things that only might happen…and MacDonald's would always be in business, whatever Franklinstein might think of their burgers…and…and anyway, this was gonna be just awesome.
More of the class were beginning to drift in, throwing a nod his way if they were friends, a disinterested glance if they weren’t. Then Jon was walking through the doorway, looking oddly pleased with himself, as though he was looking forward to something.
‘You ready?’ Al whispered. Jon nodded. ‘You sure you got all the right stuff?’
Jon nodded again. They’d already been told that this week’s lesson would be much the same as last week’s—doing something with mince.
‘What about you?’ he whispered. ‘You still up for this?’
‘Are you serious? I can’t wait to see the look on old Palm Trees’ face when she discovers—’
‘What are you two up to?’
They started, swung round.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ Al breathed, relieved.
‘Yes,’ said Keren. ‘It’s me. You were expecting someone else?’
They didn’t answer, just stood there trying hard not to look guilty. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
‘You’re up to something, aren’t you?’ she hissed.
‘Are we? What makes you think that?’
She nodded to his bag of ingredients on the table. ‘That. Since when did you start bothering to bring the proper stuff into Cookery?’
‘Since old Franklinstein had a go at us about it.’
‘And I suppose you expect me to believe that.’
‘Believe what you like,’ Jon broke in. ‘It’s the truth.’
‘Yeah, like you’ve always done as you’re told when a teacher has told you. You’re up to something, I know you are, and I bet the rest of your little gang are involved in it as well.’
‘Stick around and find out,’ said Al.
‘Oh, don’t you worry, I intend to,’ said Keren, turning on her heel. ‘Take it from me,’ she called back over her shoulder, ‘I’ll be watching you very carefully. All of you.’
‘Do you think she’ll be any trouble?’ said Jon when she was gone.
‘Nah! She just wants in, that’s all.’
‘You gonna let her?’
‘Bit late for that, ain’t it? Look out, here come the others.’
Tony, Eddie and Spike were all sidling into the classroom, each clutching his own bag of ingredients, each glancing furtively about.
‘Okay, Alex?’ Spike whispered.
‘Fine,’ Al replied quietly. ‘Just stop looking like you’re all planning to blow up the classroom or something. You got your…you know?’ They nodded. ‘Right. Now, like we planned, you keep everything out of sight until Spike does his stuff.’
They nodded again. Al looked at Spike, wondering again.
‘Are you still up for this? I mean, you’ve done enough for us already. If you want out now, we can get by.’
Spike shook his head. ‘Having seen your delightful Miss Palmer in action, I frankly doubt that. No, we go ahead as planned.’
‘Okay, then. As planned. Right, you guys, better get to your tables. And remember, we’ll only get one shot at this so don’t blow it.’
They said nothing, they just scattered, each to his own table just as Miss Palmer marched in.
‘Good morning, class,’ she trilled as usual as she swept by. As usual, they didn’t respond. She stopped in front of her desk to gaze round at them all. ‘I trust we have all remembered to come prepared this week.’
A low murmur and a few vague nods greeted this.
‘Really?’ she said, sounding half-surprised. ‘Even you, Alex Bristow?’
She looked at him meaningfully. He looked back.
‘Wouldn’t miss this one for the world, Miss,’ he said.
‘Good,’ she said uncertainly. ‘Good. Right, then, class, as I’m sure you’ll remember from last week, this lesson I want you to invent a dish of your own using some of the techniques you’ve learned. Has anyone had any thoughts?’
She stood there expectantly but if anyone had had any thoughts, they certainly weren’t telling her.
‘Come on!’ she said. ‘Someone must have had some idea! What about you, Alex Bristow? Since you appear to have come fully prepared for once, you must have something specific in mind.’
Al groaned inside. Of everyone there, why did she have to go and pick on him?
‘Er…it’s a surprise,’ he said quickly.
‘Really. Is the surprise that it’ll actually be edible?’
A titter ran round the glass. Al just smiled.
‘Let’s just say, Miss, that you won’t be forgetting it for a long time.’
‘I can hardly wait. Well, since Alex Bristow’s dish is covered with secrecy as well as the best gravy I will have ever tasted, I suppose we’ll have to hear from someone else. What about you, Keren? What can we expect from you?’
While Keren started telling the class what she was planning to make and how she was planning to make it, Al glanced round at the others. A dish she would never forget? She didn’t know it yet but she was about to get more memorable dishes than she’d bargained for.
Jon, for instance, was ready and just itching to be getting on with his, something he was calling RATsa Pasta, which was a kind of Spaghetti Bolognese. He’d been thorough in finding out just what went into a bolognese sauce and had brought along things like tomato puree and mushrooms and all the right herbs. He’d even brought along some grated Parmesan Cheese. For the topping, he’d said. Just to finish it off, he’d said. Before it finishes Miss off, he’d said.
Tony wasn’t far behind him in the imagination stakes. He’d been studying his mum’s cookery books and come up with his own idea, Mince-au-gRATin, which was basically a layer of melted cheese over mince…with a layer of something else underneath. That’s what gratin meant in French, he’d boasted knowledgeably, a layer of melted cheese over something. He’d then gone on to say that he’d got into an argument with his sister over how you pronounced gratin. She’d said that although it was spelt gratin, it was actually pronounced gratan. He’d said How-would-she-know-She-was-only-a-dumb-sister-What?-Could-she-speak-French-now-or-something? As it happened, she could, or at least enough to know how to pronounce gratin. So she’d won, he’d had to admit, but he’d got his own back by tying a noose round her favourite teddy bear’s neck and hanging it from her bedroom ceiling. He was lucky to be alive, really, he’d added…
Eddie, as ever, was struggling gamely along with the rest of them. They never expected much of him and he never expected to deliver. Even so, he’d managed to come up with something called RATts’n’Tatts, which was basically mince and potatoes put together a bit like Shepherd’s Pie…but without the shepherd and with something else.
As for Spike, he wasn’t part of the plot and had elected to do things properly. So he’d gone to town with Sweet and Sour Meatballs with rice. They couldn’t believe the ingredients he’d said he’d be bringing in, things like garlic, root ginger, red wine vinegar, dry sherry, red and green peppers, soy sauce and loads of other bits and pieces to finish it off. When they asked him why he was making such an effort, his answer was simple: to make it look good when the time came for his little
“accident”, to make it look as though he was taking things seriously and wasn’t play-acting. Anything less, he’d reasoned, and Miss would probably suspect something. He was probably right, too…
Miss Palmer’s voice cut across his thoughts, brought him back with a bump. Keren had finished speaking.
‘Right, class, time to be getting on. I’ll be floating around if anyone has any questions.’
Al glanced round at the others one last time. They nodded once in reply, each saying the same thing: here we go.