The Clumsies Make a Mess of the School. Sorrel Anderson

      

       Dedication

       For Pip, and Harry

       also make a mess in:

      The Clumsies Make a Mess

      The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Seaside

      The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Big Show

      The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Zoo

       Cover

       Title Page

      Dedication

       St. Apricot’s

       Glue, and the wall of lunch

       Grand Sports Day Part 1

       Grand Sports Day Part 2

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

      was a Tuesday morning and the Clumsies were hiding under the desk while Mr Bullerton - Howard’s boss - was looming over it, shouting at Howard.

      ‘I wonder what Howard’s done now?’ whispered Purvis, to Mickey Thompson.

      ‘I don’t know,’ whispered Mickey Thompson, back, ‘but whatever it is I wish they’d hurry up. I want my breakfast.’

      agreed

      Ortrud,

      loudly

      ‘Shhh,’ whispered Purvis. ‘Listen: he’s saying something about a…’

      ‘School?’ said Howard. confirmed Mr Bullerton.

      ‘But I don’t want to go to ,’ said Howard. ‘I’ve already done all that; I’m an adult now.’

      Mr Bullerton .

      ‘You will go to that up the road,’ he said, gesturing, ‘and you’ll give them a message from me.’

      ‘You don’t mean St Apricot’s?’ asked Howard.

      ‘I do mean St Apricot’s,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘They’re having a this afternoon, so I’ve decided to attend as Guest of Honour. The people there will notice me and be impressed. That’s the first part of the message.’

      ‘But…’ began Howard.

      ‘And you may tell them,’ continued Mr Bullerton, puffing out his chest, ‘that even though I am a busy and important person with a busy and important schedule, I shall kindly make time to give them a speech and hand out the prizes. My name will be famous! That’s the second part of the message.’

      ‘But have they invited you?’ asked Howard. ‘Surely you’d need to be invited?’

      ‘Nonsense,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘They’re lucky to have me, and you can tell them that too, as part three.’

      ‘I see,’ said Howard.

      ‘And then,’ continued Mr Bullerton, again, ‘you must put in place the appropriate arrangements.’

      ‘How do you mean?’ said Howard.

      Mr Bullerton tutted. ‘The usual things for a Guest of Honour, of course,’ he said. ‘Plinths, cordials, etc.’

      ‘Eh?’ said Howard.

      ‘I SAID PLINTHS,

      CORDIALS, ETC,’

      shouted Mr Bullerton. ‘Make sure they’re ready. Go on, then; off you go.’

      ‘Can’t it wait a little while?’ asked Howard. ‘Only there are one or two things I need to…’

       shouted Mr Bullerton, and Howard leapt up and dived under the desk.

      ‘Howard!’ the mice.

       roared Mr Bullerton.

      ‘Help,’ gulped Howard.

      ‘Of course,’ said the mice. ‘We’ll come with you.’

      ‘No you won’t,’ said Howard. ‘Not this time.’

      ‘WHAT?’ shouted Mr Bullerton. ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING UNDER THERE?’

      ‘I’m err... err…’

      ‘Finding your bag,’ whispered Purvis, handing Howard an bag, and climbing into it. Mickey Thompson and Ortrud climbed in too.

      ‘I SAID NO,’ shouted Howard.

      ‘DON’T YOU “NO” ME!’ shouted Mr Bullerton. ‘COME OUT AT ONCE!’

      Howard sighed, defeatedly, grasped the bag , and stood up.

      ‘Sorry about that,’ he said, sidling towards the door. ‘I was just finding my bag.’

      Mr Bullerton stared at it.

      ‘It’s ,’ he said.

      ‘Is it?’ said Howard, sidling faster. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’

      ‘What’s in it?’ said Mr Bullerton.

      ‘Err, nothing,’ said Howard, whisking out of the room and racing down the corridor towards the lift.

      ‘WHAT?’ shouted