Gargoyle Gold

By Kit Brewster

An ancient legend says that Sir Roger de Flambeau hid a chest of gold before he died, but though many have tried, it has never been found. The only clue is a poem which refers to a mysterious Gargoyle Code. Green Group in Mr Fordham's Y6 class take on the challenge of finding the gold so that they can save their school from demolition. But there are many barriers to their quest, the head teacher, Miss Scratchard, the bully, Barry, and last, but not least, a Guardian Ghoul!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Blitz
• Release date: May 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227373137

Kit Brewster

Christopher Brewster, or Kit, as he is known to his friends, has been writing stories since he was a young child. He rediscovered his passion for creative writing when, in 1984, he became an English teacher in a Rotherham school, where he enjoyed making up stories for his pupils. When one of them said, "We think your stories are even better than those in books. Why not write a book yourself, Sir?" He decided to send some of his stories to several publishers. One of them asked him to add some questions to a story so it could be used for educational purposes, and this led him to write a wide range of successful educational text books. He has since written for many other educational publishers including Cassell, Folens, Longman, and Scholastic, but recently has returned to his first love, which is creative writing, especially fiction and poetry. Kit Brewster is not the author's real name, but the nom de-plume he uses for his children's writing. He uses other pseudonyms for his adult fiction and historical writing. However, in keeping with his love of codes and puzzles, he has encoded his real name somewhere in this book.

Book preview

BAD NEWS

The clock on the wall said 8.25. Class 6 tumbled into the room in its usual disorganised way. Mr Fordham sat at his computer waiting to take the register. Then he saw Karen.

Karen was wearing a red school uniform jumper, but instead of a blouse, she was wearing a pale purple top with a lacy collar. Instead of knee-length socks, she was wearing cute little ankle socks, and instead of shoes, she was wearing white trainers with a pale purple stripe. The whole effect was more like an American High School girl of the 1950’s than a 1990’s English primary school girl – which was just the effect Karen wanted.

Mr Fordham quickly clicked opened the ADMIN file on his computer to check the School Rules. This is what he found:

CLIFTON COUNTY PRIMARY

UNIFORM RULES

GIRLS

Plain white blouse

Plain red jumper

Dark grey pleated knee-length skirt

OR dark grey trousers

Knee-length white socks

Sensible shoes in brown or black leather

No make-up

No jewellery except studs or sleepers

Mr Fordham sighed and decided it was time for a telling off.

Karen, why are you wearing trainers?

They’re the fashion sir, said Karen guiltily.

And if it was the fashion to walk around stark... (Mr Fordham thought the better of this one)... to walk around on six-foot high stilts, would you do that?

Karen looked at him pityingly as though the answer was obvious (of course she would!)

The School Uniform Rules say that you are supposed to wear ‘sensible’ shoes of black or brown leather.

Sorry, sir.

Look at Megan, she’s wearing sensible shoes.

Karen looked at Megan and was not impressed. Megan was one of the tomboys of the class. She was wearing trousers and Dr Marten boots. To complete the effect, she wore a blouse that looked more like a boy’s shirt, and had hair short. Karen couldn’t help thinking how unfair it was that such an outlandish appearance was within the school rules, while her appearance was not.

Mr Fordham smiled to himself. He had mentioned Megan because he couldn’t resist seeing Karen’s horrified reaction. He knew that it would have been more effective if he had mentioned Kirsty as an example. Her shoes were sensible, but quite smart, and would have been much more likely to persuade Karen that it was possible to wear sensible shoes without looking like an oik.

And another thing. That’s not a blouse is it and it’s not white?

No sir.

This time, Mr Fordham resisted the temptation to mention Megan and nodded his head towards Kirsty.

Look at Kirsty. You could put her in the school uniform shop window.

Kirsty, Karen’s friend, was very sensibly getting her pencil case out and preparing for the first lesson of the day – Literacy Hour. She looked up when she heard her name and blushed slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable about being used as an example.

Karen, I don’t want to get you into any more trouble than necessary, so try to come properly dressed tomorrow. In the meantime, just try to make sure that Miss Scratchard doesn’t see you.

Feeling a little bit cross, but relieved, Karen went to join her friends at Green Group table. As soon as she sat down, Kirsty said, I told you you’d get into trouble. It’s a school, not a fashion show.

I think she looks OK, said Tom.

Thanks, said Karen.

You would, said Kirsty. You’re not much of an example.

Tom was wearing a Manchester United shirt.

Well, at least it’s red, said Tom.

With a big number 5 on the back! Kirsty pointed out.

I told old Fordham my jumper was in the wash.

And he let you off? said Kirsty incredulously.

Well, I think he’s a bit of a Man U fan himself.

You’re both lucky Mr Fordham caught you and not Miss Scratchard. She’d probably send you home.

Just then, Billy ran into the classroom with Barry right behind. Billy was a small, wiry, mischief maker, and Barry was a great big bruiser of a boy whose physical size belied the immaturity of his personality. Barry grabbed Billy and tried to wrestle a lunch box off him. The lunch box fell to the floor and a packet of crisps (along with other junk food) falls out.

Barry! said Mr Fordham wearily, "put Billy down, go back out and come in again properly.

...and pick up that lunch box! By the way – is that a packet of crisps I see? I thought we were having a healthy eating campaign. There’s no wonder you’re so hyperactive!

Barry gathered up his lunch, went out with Billy and they both came in again, smirking, and made their way to the Red Group table, where Megan and Maureen were sitting watching.

In fact, said Mr Fordham to the whole class, I’ve a good mind to send you all outside and make you line up and come in sensibly, but we haven’t got time today – it’s Monday and we’ve got to go to, ah, Collective Act of Worship.

Mr Fordham had called it assembly for the first 20 years of his teaching career and found the new jargon mildly amusing, along with head teacher instead of headmistress, and chalkboard for blackboard, though the blackboards had been replaced with whiteboards a year ago and nobody thought there was anything racist about them – otherwise they would have been called Dry-Ink Marker-Pen Boards.

He turned to his computer and started to take the register. He was just about to click on SEND when Tim, the fourth member of the Green Group, crept in.

Tim – just in time, said Mr Fordham, looking up. I almost gave you a late mark. Have you been up all night surfing the Internet again?"

Yeah, muttered Barry, just loud enough to be heard. Looking at pictures of...

That’s enough! said Mr Fordham firmly. From what I hear from Miss Scratchard, you’re in enough trouble already.

Mr Fordham suspected that Barry was bullying Tim, and the reason Tim kept coming late was to avoid Barry. He looked at his watch. No time for that now, though.

Hurry up Class 6, or we’ll be late for the Collective Act of Worship. Miss Scratchard’s got a special announcement to make this morning.

Class 6 trooped out of the classroom into the central hall and took up their position on the back row. Girls on one side, boys on the other, either side of a central aisle. Year 5 lined up in front of them, then Year 4, and so on, each row slightly smaller in height until you got to the front few rows where the tiny tots from the infant school sat cross-legged on the floor.

The Collective Act of Worship began with the hymn, Lord of the Dance, with the words projected onto a screen, followed by a multi-faith prayer. After this there was usually a short presentation by one of the classes, but today this was left out and Miss Scratchard went straight on to the notices.

Miss Scratchard was her usual self, prim and proper, with her hair tied back in a tight bun, and her features seeming to be stretched just as tightly, but there was something different about her today. Her monotonous tone of voice was the same as ever, it just seemed more urgent than usual, as though she was hurrying on to get to the important announcement.

Now, for the notices. The Y5 trip to Conisbrough Castle was a great success and next week Y5 will be leading our Collective Act of Worship and presenting some of their research. Our Healthy School project enters its second phase this week with the replacement of chips by baked potatoes in the school canteen...

There was a ripple of groans throughout the hall, causing Miss Scratchard to peer sternly over the top of her reading glasses. Barry’s groan would have been the loudest, except that he had long since stopped listening to a word that was said. That is not to say he disliked the Collective Act of Worship. On the contrary, he believed that the longer it lasted, the better, as it was less time for lessons.

I am now going to make an official announcement, she said, rustling her papers and sounding slightly nervous. "Some of