Wild & Woolly: An Al and Sal adventure

By Louise Cooper

Alice likes her life exactly the way it is. At home she has Mumsie, and at boarding school she has her alien-obsessed best friend and roommate Sally, and she doesn’t see why anything should have to change. Then – everything starts to. Sally decides that Alice needs to have an adventure and signs them up for a school trip: a week of archery, raft building, and zip-wiring (with the chance of alien watching) in the great outdoors. Alice doesn’t see what’s so great about it, especially when she finds out Nadia her once best friend turned enemy who never misses the chance to torment her, is also signed up for the trip. But now she has bigger issues. What began months ago as a small white lie is about to become a BIG problem and Alice only has five days to fix her mistake – before the truth gets out. What more could possibly go wrong?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jun 21, 2024
• ISBN: 9781035865574

Louise Cooper

"Acclaimed British author Louise Cooper weaves a spell-binding tale of the last of the Old Folk and her love. Cooper's highly successful and critically acclaimed "Time Master" series, as well as the equally successful "Indigo" series has garnered an avid following for her work."

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About the Author

Louise Cooper grew up in a small village in South Yorkshire, where she still lives with her family. After deciding she wanted to be a writer as soon as she learnt to hold a pen, she spent years scribbling down any and all stories that came into her head. After graduating with a degree in creative writing from the Open College of the Arts (now a part of the Open University) in 2021, she thought it was time to share her stories with others. A recent first-time plant parent, when she isn’t busy writing, Louise can usually be found indulging in her love of video games and board games.

Dedication

To Mum, for all her love and support, who agreed to read Wild & Woolly over and over again until I felt I’d got it right—and taught me to never give up.

Copyright Information ©

Louise Cooper 2024

The right of Louise Cooper to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

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

ISBN 9781035861460 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035865567 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781035865574 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

Staff and tutors of the OCA (Open College of the Arts) who helped me on my journey here, particularly Barbara Henderson for all her support and encouragement during my final level of study.

To my family and friends and anyone who ever read an unfinished draft of Wild & Woolly and came to love Alice and Sally as much as I do.

Chapter 1

Sally, Where Are You?

At Ellwood Academy for Young Ladies, school trips were known to go one of two ways: chaos—or utter chaos.

Alice had a good idea of which way the Year Nine trip to Lady’s Wood Retreat was going to go when Sally failed to appear for breakfast on Monday morning. Lingering in a draughty corridor outside the canteen, Alice dialled her mobile number. Sticking a manicured finger in her left ear, she tried to mentally block out the sound of the building works going on behind her. All of her texts and messages had gone unanswered, so it wasn’t a surprise when the call went straight to voicemail.

‘Hiya! It’s Sal. I’m not here right now—well I am, but not here-here… anyway, you know what I mean, so leave a message for me.’

‘Sally, where are you? You said you’d be back last night. I told you to get your permission slip signed earlier. If I have to go on this trip alone I’m going to kill you.’ Five days of learning life skills and team-building exercises was bad enough, but she only signed up for this particular field trip in the first place because of Sally.

Putting her phone on vibrate, Alice entered the canteen which hummed with the sounds of scraping cutlery and messy eaters, all echoing off the walls of the former chapel. Like the rest of the main school building, not much had been done to bring it into the twenty-first century beyond the necessary for health and safety. Before Ellwood Academy, there had been Ellwood House, an old Jacobean manor that their headmistress Miss Bunfray did her best to maintain, but Alice had a feeling that there wasn’t much money to spend.

Sunlight bounced around the room, splitting into a dozen colours as it hit the stained-glass windows high up in the smooth sandstone walls. Hot food sizzled under the warming lamps on the right side of the room. A mixture of delicate pastries, muffins, and the re-heated sausages and bacon left over from Sunday’s evening meal of toad in the hole: Sally’s favourite. Last year she had left a note in the school suggestion box that a builder’s breakfast of bacon, sausages, eggs, and fried bread should be on offer every morning. She still lived in hope.

Bypassing it all, Alice approached the other serving table that was slightly shoved out of the way. It seemed ready to buckle under the weight of an industrial toaster and next to it sat a wide glass bowl of half-melted ice cubes holding a range of organic and soya yoghurts. Preparing her usual fare of fruit muesli, she hesitated over the milk for a minute before choosing a topping of strawberry yoghurt. Just to try something different.

The teachers sat at the old refectory table which was covered by a pristine white tablecloth. Most places were vacant, plates and cutlery laid out for lunchtime by students pursuing preferential treatment. Alice couldn’t think of anything worse than pandering to a teacher’s every whim. In the middle was the headmistress, surveying the hall and counting heads as she drank from a bone china teacup, little finger in the air. Next to her was their new geography teacher Miss Cortez, twisting her cloth napkin into knots, and further down was Boils Boyle, the librarian, who must have passed retirement age in the 1960s.

Careful to avoid Miss Bunfray’s gaze, Alice sank quietly down at her four-seater table against the wall. Half-heartedly swirling her muesli, she stuck the spoon in vertically, where it stayed without moving. Perhaps she should offer it up as an alternative to the cement currently being mixed to re-point the main building in the hope of propping it up for another hundred years.

Ignoring the empty chair opposite her, she sipped at her tea and tried to relax. It was half past eight. Sally still had one-thousand eight-hundred seconds before she’d miss the bus. Plenty of time.

Distracted, Alice almost failed to notice the twins settling themselves opposite her. It was a hard thing to do: they were the sort of girls whose puberty had hit like a freight train. Rumour had it, Bernice and Eunice Oxley had been wearing bras at age nine, and Alice could well believe it as Bernice’s left J-cup dipped into her jam pot. She grumbled at the red splodge on her white school shirt and licked her fingers, wiping at the stain and spreading it even further.

Eunice gave her a quick smile and Alice tried to return it, even though the look had felt like one of pity. She’d never been able to make friends like Sally did, but somehow she’d ended up in a weird almost-friendship with the twins where they wouldn’t speak for weeks and then suddenly Alice would end up with two extra shadows.

The twins ignored the jealous whispers of the Year Seven girls at the next table. One of them even went so far as to mime holding boobs, mouthing massive to the group. Another pulled out her top and looked down disappointedly.

Alice knew how they felt. She might have the long blonde hair that everyone was supposed to want—even though it was so thick and a nightmare to dry—and the blue eyes to match, but she was tiny in that department. Even Sally had more than her, though that could be because of the height advantage. Last year when they’d posed for a Christmas card photo together, Alice had to stand three steps higher on a set of stairs, just so they’d both be in frame.

Bernice slurped at her coffee and said around the cup, ‘Where’s Sal?’

‘On her way here. Or at least she’d better be,’ Alice muttered, pushing away her bowl of concrete muesli and resigning herself to watching the twins eat. Eunice nibbled daintily at her toast as if she could make up for the way her sister hoovered up croissants with butter and jam. She’d always been the quieter one, more comfortable in the background than her loud and boisterous counterpart.

Between chewing mouthfuls, Bernice said, ‘That why Bumface is glaring at you?’ nodding her head at the staff table.

‘Oh God, she’s not is she?’ Alice slumped back in her seat, bringing up a hand to the left side of her face. It seemed like Miss Bunfray had it out for Alice since day one of her first year at the Academy, just waiting for her to cause trouble.

OK, sometimes she did—but only after she became friends with Sally. Sally was the real troublemaker, not that anybody listened to Alice when she told them that. Which made Bumface’s attitude even more offensive. ‘Is she still looking?’

This time it was Eunice who answered. ‘Yes.’

‘Ugh, I’m going.’ Alice gathered her tray, making a hasty retreat towards the doors. Stopping at the dish racks she tried to quickly slip her bowl onto a shelf, completely forgetting about the spoon stuck in her muesli. It hit the stand, bouncing off and down, sending pieces spinning across the floor when it smashed. Behind her, the canteen went silent. Cringing, Alice bent down to pick up the shards, letting out a breath when chatter slowly resumed. So much for making a quiet exit.

A broom swept in front of her. ‘Leave that to me, lass,’ Mr Tully said. Seeing the Academy’s groundskeeper and general caretaker, with his tweed flat-cap and thick jumper, always made Alice wonder what her own grandparents were like. The closest she’d had was her mum’s aunt Gladys when she was small.

Grateful, Alice nodded and left the canteen, turning right down the corridor, and pushing open a glass door that took her outside. It was mid-May, and she shivered in her school uniform, black pumps squeaking on wet grass as she crossed the open courtyard.

The dormitories, commonly known as The Folly, were built with bricks from the walled garden. It looked old, but to Alice’s continued relief the inside was as modern as it could be. The ground floor was where the teachers slept, their rooms concealed behind a formidable key-coded door.

Crossing the scratchy carpet to the stairs, Alice heard a door swing open. Miss Cortez was shuffling through the fortress door, badly juggling a stack of folders and a small, wheeled suitcase. Dressed in a pink floral tunic that complimented her dark skin, Miss Cortez looked more like a student than a teacher.

Her mouth popped open when Alice lifted the papers from her arm. ‘Oh! Alice, thank you,’ she said. Miss Cortez had a permanent, slightly startled look about her, not helped by the wide fawn-coloured eyes framed by her long fringe. ‘Um, are you looking forward to the trip? Miss Bunfray will be waiting for you, so you’d better get your bags. Tell Sally as well.’

Alice nodded politely and passed back the folders. Smiling, Miss Cortez manoeuvred herself out of the main door, trying to shrug her lemon cardigan back onto her slim shoulder as she went.

Upstairs, Alice found a group of older girls blocking the corridor to the first floor. They were laughing as they exchanged make-up, flipping back their long, perfectly styled and highlighted hair. Brushing her own loose hair that suddenly felt like straw behind her ears, Alice tried to silently push past them.

Being part of a group like theirs was all she’d wanted when she started Year Seven. To feel beautiful in her own skin, and to be popular—and tall. At Alice’s age, her mum Paris had already become a model and appeared in magazines. She longed to resemble the black and white portraits in their home study. At seventeen, Mumsie had exuded willowy gracefulness as she wore clothes from international designers. Alice was three years from that, and the only modelling call she’d fit would be frumpy Hobbit.

Finally breaking ranks, the girls let her though to reveal the rest of the corridor. Identical doors lined both sides of the white walls, the overhead florescent lights creating a blinding glare. Stopping outside number nineteen, Alice entered and found it looking exactly as she’d left it. That meant Sally still wasn’t back from her weekend at home. Through the single window, various students plodded across the grounds towards the P. E. block. A pair of bedside tables acted as a dividing line for the room. The left side was Alice’s, the right Sally’s.

Lined up on a bookshelf above her bed were all the souvenirs and knick-knacks brought back from her mother’s trips around the world. New York, Tokyo, Venice, and even the Great Wall of China, along with her favourite; a glass snow-globe. Inside was the Eiffel Tower coated in copious pink glitter, with a red heart perched on top: from Paris with love a play on her mum’s name.

Before coming to the Academy, she’d never shared a bedroom and quickly realised she wasn’t made for it. Alice liked her privacy, and a neat organised space, but somehow she made it work with Sally despite the chaos that reigned on the other side of the room. Clothes strewn everywhere, hanging out of drawers and cupboards—impossible to tell what was washed and not.

Slipping off her shoes, Alice collected more items for the purple backpack on her bed which she’d already filled to bursting for the trip. Bumface had told them to bring sensible, warm clothing but Alice was just looking forward to not having to wear the school uniform in the next few days.

A pair of camouflage jeans stuck out of Sally’s wardrobe. There was no sign of any packed bags, so Alice hoped she had taken one to her parents otherwise Sally might end up rinsing out her knickers in a stream in the back of beyond. Bumface hadn’t told them much about where they’d be staying, but hopefully, four walls, a roof and running water came as standard. One camping trip in Alice’s life was enough.

As Alice went to brush her teeth, her phone vibrated with a text alert. ‘Finally! It’s about time, Sally,’ she said, pulling the device from her pocket. But it wasn’t her—it was Mumsie: Have a lovely week darling. Don’t forget we’ll be picking you up at six o’clock for dinner on Saturday. Phillip says hello. Love you baby.

Oh no, the dinner. She’d been trying to forget about it. Alice opened her wardrobe and sighed. There was the plum-coloured halter-neck dress she’d bought over Christmas; her first grown-up dress as Mumsie had called it. Black lace flowers with diamantés in their centres were sewn onto the bodice. It was beautiful, and she’d loved it from the first time she saw it. She didn’t want to wear it. Not to that dinner.

The bell rang, signalling eight-fifty and a warning for the beginning of classes. After a final glance around the room, Alice picked up her heavy backpack and followed the stream of students heading towards the main building.

Alice arrived on the front lawn to join a small crowd hanging around by the double doors that led to the school’s entrance hall. Recognising a few girls from some of her classes, but none of them Sally, she moved a few paces away.

Looking up as the door opened, Alice unintentionally caught the eye of the last person she wanted to see. Nadia Palma. She realised she was outnumbered when it opened wider to let out Nadia’s posse: Sofia, Claudia, and Ella.

They reminded Alice of the Barbie dolls she’d played with as a kid, plastic expressions on pretty, hollow shells, and all subtle clones of each other. Nadia boldly stepped out in front, her bronze skin and dark brown hair cut into a fashionable bob. A bird of paradise amongst a flock of pigeons. She certainly squawked like one.

The other girl raised a pencilled eyebrow and opened her red-painted beak. ‘So it’s true? Charity Shop’s gone? It’s about time she went back to that council estate where she belongs,’ Nadia said with a sly smirk. ‘The great Alice Prince, the charity case of a charity case. I bet she left just to get away from you. I would if I was stuck being friends with you.’ Nadia tumbled to one side as a sports duffel bag swung hard into her shoulder. She clutched her arm. ‘Watch it!’

‘Whoops, sorry,’ Bernice said with heartfelt insincerity. ‘Didn’t see you.’ Chewing gum, she idly parked herself next to Alice with her arms folded, framing her infamous boobs.

Sneering, the clique moved away, Ella and Sofia fussing over Nadia who was still clutching at her arm.

‘Are you OK?’ Eunice asked her.

‘I’m fine,’ Alice said, throwing Bernice a look. ‘You didn’t have to do that, you know.’

‘Who says I did it for you?’

‘Well… thanks anyway.’

Stretching her long arms above her head Bernice said, ‘No Sal then?’

‘Nope,’ Alice huffed and dropped her bag at her feet. ‘I’m starting to think she’s not coming at all.’ Her stomach was heavy with worry as if she’d eaten the bowl of concrete muesli.

There were only sixteen people scheduled for the trip and all of them except Sally had arrived by the time Bumface emerged from the school building just as the clock tower struck nine-thirty. Smacking the palm of her hand against a clipboard, she called for order. ‘Pay attention girls! In a minute, Mr Tully and Miss Cortez will be arriving with the bus, so we can make our way there. For now, I will take a register.’

She cleared her throat and retrieved a pair of reading glasses from her beige blouse pocket. ‘Brown, Sally—’

‘I’m here, Miss!’

Alice paled as she heard the familiar screech. Over the shoulder of Bumface, Sally whooshed through the school gates, a cloud of sandy dust kicking up behind her. Bent almost double, she was clinging to the edges of her bright green skateboard, baggy men’s jacket flapping out behind her like a parachute.

‘Watch out!’ Sally fishtailed on the fine gravel, pinging tiny stones in every direction. Swerving, she crashed straight over one of the sculptured hedges that bordered the lawns. Springing to her feet, she dusted off the scruffy school uniform she wore beneath her jacket. Vaulting over the low hedge, Sally thrust a crumpled and ripped sheet of paper under Bumface’s nose. ‘Got it signed! Sorry, it’s a bit chewed up and slobbered on. It were Dots, see—’

‘That’s quite enough, Miss Brown,’ Miss Bunfray said, plucking the slightly damp permission slip from Sally’s grasp with her fingertips. She continued down the list of names until she was cut off by the blaring horn of the school minibus. A white boxy tin, it broadcasted danger from every angle. Bumface disappeared in a cloud of black diesel smoke as the bus shuddered to a stop. She coughed and flapped her clipboard. ‘Mr Tully! I thought we agreed we would be using the other vehicle.’

Mr Tully got out of the driver’s seat. ‘Blasted thing’s still in the shop. All that fancy paintwork you wanted. Old faithful here will have to do.’

‘Is it safe?’

‘Passed all its tests last time we did them.’ Mr Tully said and ran his hands over the dents and scrapes on the wheel arches. ‘We can hire one, ma’am, but… it’ll be pricey, I can tell you now.’

Miss Bunfray hesitated and for a second Alice dared to think that it’d be back to the classroom for English Literature and her favourite pasta salad at lunch.

Sally made a noise like her soul had been crushed and clutched her skateboard tighter. ‘No… they can’t cancel it,’ she whined and gave Bumface puppy eyes, resembling the pictures Alice had seen of her dalmatian-cross Dotty.

The