The Midnight Gang. David Walliams
Tom tiptoed forward. Soon it was so dark that he could not see his own hand in front of his face. Now he had to grope along the damp walls to find his way. Just then …
KLANG!
… a deafening noise echoed down the basement corridors. It sounded like a heavy metal door being shut. Tom wondered who else might be down here with him. The porter?
Frozen in fear, the boy stopped dead. He listened. And listened. And listened. But now all he could hear was silence. A deep dread all but swallowed him up. Although he stood still, he felt as if he was running or falling or drowning.
Tom realised that coming down to the basement alone was a terrible mistake. He had to get out of there. Right now. He began to retrace his steps, but in a panic he lost his way. Soon he was running barefoot down the corridors, the pink, frilly nightdress flapping as he went.
Out of breath, and still feeling woozy from that cricket ball hitting his head, Tom stopped for a moment. Then he felt something grab his shoulder. He turned round. It was a hand.
“Arrrggghhh!” he screamed.
“Wot are you doin’ down ’ere?” came an angry voice. It was George. Alongside him were Amber and Robin. Tom turned round and Amber and George immediately collapsed in hysterics.
“Ha ha ha!”
In no time, both were helpless with laughter.
“What’s so dreadfully amusing?” asked Robin. “Pray tell!”
“Yes, what is so hilarious?” demanded Tom. He had the distinct feeling they were laughing at him.
“It’s your pink, frilly nightdress! Ha ha ha!” laughed Amber.
“It’s not mine!” protested Tom.
“Oh, I see,” said Robin. “Well, I don’t see,” he added, patting the bandages over his eyes, “but you know what I mean.”
“Robin, if you could see ’im, you would ’ave a good laugh,” added George.
“So how frilly exactly are we talking here?” asked Robin.
“Well …” began Amber. “There are layers of frills like on a wedding cake.”
Robin must have created the image in his head because he giggled to himself at the thought. “Oh dear me! Ha ha!”
“Shut up! The three of you!” shouted Tom angrily.
“Yes, you boys, no more giggling!” said Amber, even though she was the one who had been giggling the loudest.
“Look, Tom,” began George, “we asked you somefink. Wot are you doin’ down ’ere?”
“I was following you,” replied Tom. “What are you doing down here?”
“We’re not saying!” replied Amber. “Now go back to bed, annoying little twit!”
“No. I won’t!” replied Tom.
“Get back to bed!” added George.
“NO!” replied Tom defiantly. “I won’t!”
“I’d slap you if I could see where you are,” fumed Robin. “Count yourself very lucky, Ducky!”
“I’ll snitch on you all unless you let me come too!” said Tom.
The other three were stunned into silence.
One thing that was looked down on at Tom’s boarding school was snitching. Despite the brutal atmosphere at St Willet’s, snitching on other boys to the teachers was forbidden, even if they had …
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