Amelia Fang and the Memory Thief. Laura Ellen Anderson

going to

      have a lot of fun making

      a LOT of food!’ said

      Mr Sublime.

      Tangine’s eyes lit up

      and a string of dribble

      slipped its way down his

      chin. ‘Hmmmm fooooood!’

      he gurgled happily.

      AHEM!

      ‘Yes?’ said the teacher,

      looking round at the

      students expectantly for

      more sentiments of

      appreciation.

      ‘IT WEREN’T ANY

      OF US THAT MADE

      THAT NOISE, MR

      SLIME. THAT WAS

      THE ROOM. THAT’S

      WHY IT’S CALLED

      THE COUGHING CLASSROOM,’ explained Florence.

      ‘Oh, I see,’ said Mr Sublime, looking a little ill as he watched a trickle of snot slide down the back wall, between two particularly dramatically posed pictures of himself with

       a frying pan.

      Grimaldi was trying not to laugh.

      Amelia elbowed Florence in the belly.

       ‘You can’t call him Mr Slime!’ she whispered.

       ‘It’s Mr Sublime!’

      Grimaldi and Florence smirked.

      Recovering himself, the teacher flung

       his arms out wide with a flourish. ‘Well,

       let’s get started with your first cookery

       class like no other! And do you know WHY

       it’s like no other?’ Mr Sublime didn’t wait

       for anyone to answer. ‘Because it has

       been said by many – not myself,

       you understand – that I am the BEST cook

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      you’ve ever met or are likely to meet.’

      ‘That’s quite a statement,’ whispered

      Grimaldi. ‘I always thought my Grimpapa

       was the best cook around . . .’

      ‘I think you’ll find Wooo is definitely the

      best!’ Amelia replied.

      ‘Tonight, class, we will be making my

      favourite recipe!’ continued Mr Sublime.

      ‘I wonder if it’s Boasting Buns!’ Grimaldi

      giggled.

      ‘Oh no . . . we’ll be making those next week,’

      said the teacher looking straight at

       Grimaldi, whose deathly pale cheeks flushed

       with embarrassment. ‘This week, we’ll be

      making Sublime Cookies!’

      ‘HEH, SLIME,’ said Florence.

      Tangine rolled his eyes. ‘Are you

      going to do that every time?’

      ‘YEH AND WHAT’S IT TO YOU?’ said

      Florence, nudging Tangine off his plinth.

      ‘You’ll find a copy of my recipe book It’s

      SUBLIME Time! on your desks. Find a partner

      and turn to page fifty-five for the Sublime

      Cookie recipe,’ said the teacher. ‘All the

      ingredients you need are in the cupboard at

      the back of the classroom.’

      The sounds of spoons and spatulas clinked

      and clunked as the class split off into pairs

      and began cookie-making. Amelia paired with

      Tangine, who had grabbed five whisks to mix

      with. Florence and Grimaldi teamed up

      and seemed more interested in flicking

      ingredients into Grimaldi’s eye socket than

      making the cookies.

      ‘Stop messing around you two,’ said Amelia,

      as a Perfumed Pea went flying into her mixing

      bowl.

      ‘You’ll get us

      into trouble before

      we’ve even finished our

      first lesson! Also, what are you

      doing with those peas? There aren’t

      any Perfumed Peas in this recipe . . .’

      ‘SORRY,’ said Florence, getting ready

      to shove another Perfumed Pea up

      Grimaldi’s nose. ‘COOKING S’NOT

      REALLY MY FING . . .’

      ‘What?’ said Tangine, raising his

      eyebrows. ‘But cooking is

      so fun!’

      ‘THE EATING PART IS FUN.

      JUST NOT THE MAKING PART,’

      said Florence.

      ‘Well, keep your peas

      to yourself,’ Amelia smiled.

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      ‘Tangine and I

       actually want to cook!’

      As Amelia studied the

       Sublime Cookie recipe, she

       couldn’t help giggling at the

      numerous pictures of Mr Sublime in

       a flowery apron.

      ‘First, we need to combine one

       hundred and fifty grams of Sunflower

       Root with two spatulas of powdered

       Scorpion

       reading through a list of ingredients.

       ‘Wow, I’ve never heard of any of

       these things before.’

      Grass . . .’ said Amelia,

      ‘That’s because they can only be

       found in the Fairy Forest in the

       Kingdom of the Light,’ said a

       voice next to Amelia, making her

       jump.

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      ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘Hello, Mr Sublime . . .’

      Florence leaned over. ‘HEH, SLI—’

      ‘Don’t!’ interrupted Tangine, shoving a

      spatula in Florence’s mouth.

      Grimaldi now had around fifty Perfumed

      Peas in his eye socket.

      ‘The Fairy Forest is teeming with millions

      of amazing and mysterious plants. Even I, an

      expert, couldn’t possibly know about them

      all!’