Whizziwig and Whizziwig Returns Read online

  ‘Still sounds like a cushy number to me!’ Steve said.

  ‘Yeah?’ Togen frowned. ‘Well, I wish you knew what it was like to be so irresistible that people never left you alone. Then maybe you’d see that it isn’t all a bed of rose petals.’

  Under the table, Whizziwig’s eyes sparkled.

  ‘Oh, no!’ Steve gasped.

  ‘Exactly!’ said Togen.

  The buzzer sounded for the end of the lesson and the end of the school day – and not a moment too soon.

  ‘Now, I know you’ve all really enjoyed yourselves.’ Togen smiled. ‘And the pleasure has been all yours!’

  Steve grabbed his things and ran for the door. Most of the class were already on their feet.

  ‘You’ll all be wanting my autograph, of course.’ Togen smiled. ‘So just form a queue . . .’

  ‘Come on, Ben. Let’s go – now!’ Steve urged from the door.

  Ben joined Steve and they quickly left the classroom. Everyone else followed them.

  ‘And if anyone wants to see their photo in the papers, just stay behind and I’ll . . .’ But Togen was wasting his breath. The classroom was empty – apart from Togen, Miss Jute, Franco and Mr Archer.

  Outside in the corridor, Steve was breathing a sigh of relief.

  ‘Hopefully, I’ll get home before Togen’s wish starts to kick in,’ Steve told Ben.

  ‘Never mind Togen’s wish. Look at this thing in my mouth.’ Ben showed Steve his brace. ‘How could—’

  Ben stopped speaking suddenly. He had a strange feeling, like a prickling in the back of his neck. He turned around. So did Steve. The whole class was walking a couple of metres behind them. Ben and Steve looked at each other and tried to walk on nonchalantly, as if nothing strange was happening. They were aware that the rest of their class had started walking too. Ben and Steve stopped. So did the rest of the class. Ben and Steve looked at each other again.

  ‘Run!’ Steve yelled.

  And Ben and Steve charged down the corridor, with the rest of their class racing after them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Oh, Yeah!

  TOGEN WAS STUNNED that none of the pupils in the class had stayed behind to get his autograph or tell him how wonderful he was. It was the first time something like that had ever happened. But at least Miss Jute was still looking at him like he’d invented penicillin!

  ‘Mr Togen, can I interest you in a cup of tea in our staff room?’

  Togen took Miss Jute by the arm. ‘I can’t think of anything I’d like more.’

  Togen and Miss Jute left the classroom arm in arm. Franco watched Mr Archer seethe as he looked at Togen with his fiancée. She had to bite her lip to stop herself laughing. From the look on Mr Archer’s face, Togen had better watch out.

  When they reached the staff room, Miss Jute wasn’t the only one who made a fuss of Togen. In the space of about fifteen seconds he was surrounded. Togen sat down, insisting that Miss Jute should sit next to him. Franco and Mr Archer found themselves being pushed back by all the other teachers. And Mr Archer’s expression was getting more and more angry.

  ‘Mr Togen, you’re so funny and so talented,’ Miss Jute gushed after another of Togen’s jokes.

  ‘I know!’ said Togen.

  Mr Archer muttered under his breath.

  ‘I have all your CDs,’ Miss Jute simpered.

  Togen took hold of Miss Jute’s hand and kissed it. ‘Of course you do!’

  Burning up with jealousy, Mr Archer stepped forward. His face was fifty different shades of purple by now.

  ‘Your family must be so proud of you!’ Miss Jute smiled.

  ‘You think so?’ Togen put an arm around Miss Jute’s shoulder. ‘Why don’t you ask my brother whether he is or not?’

  ‘Your brother?’ Miss Jute asked, surprised.

  ‘Lennie over there.’ Togen pointed at Mr Archer.

  Miss Jute’s mouth fell open. ‘Leonard? Leonard is your brother?’

  ‘That’s right. Go on, Lennie. Tell Miss Jute what you think of me,’ Togen challenged.

  ‘I think that if you don’t take your hands off my fiancée, I’m going to . . . to . . .’

  Togen stood up, his fists clenched. ‘You’re going to what?’

  Mr Archer took a step forward, his jaw set. Franco watched, her arms folded across her chest. What was going to happen now?

  Chapter Twenty

  Changes

  BEN AND STEVE were hiding behind a small wall in the school grounds.

  ‘Can we go home? That crowd must’ve gone by now,’ said Whizziwig.

  Slowly, Ben and Steve raised their heads above the wall.

  ‘I think they’ve . . .’ Steve’s voice trailed away as he stared at Ben. ‘What on earth do you look like?’

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Ben frowned.

  Whizziwig floated up to get a good look at Ben. ‘He looks like Emma of course.’

  Appalled, Ben ran his hands over his face. ‘What’s the matter? Whizziwig, what’ve you done?’

  Ben ran his hands over his head. Where he’d had short, neat hair before, he now had . . . plaits. Short plaits springing out from all over, with the odd bead and bauble and ribbon dotted at the end of each of them.

  ‘No!’ Ben wailed. ‘Whizziwig, take the ribbons off! At once.’

  ‘Can’t do that. Sorry! Besides, they rather suit you. They give you a—’

  ‘There they are!’ shouted a voice from across the school grounds.

  Ben and Steve turned their heads to see the rest of the class racing towards them.

  ‘Run!’ Steve yelled.

  And Ben didn’t need to be told twice.

  Meanwhile, back in the staff room, Mr Archer and Togen were squaring up to each other.

  ‘You haven’t changed,’ Togen sneered. ‘Still the same old pompous, bossy big brother.’

  ‘And you haven’t changed either,’ said Mr Archer furiously. ‘Still the same old irresponsible half-wit who thinks he just has to smile to get away with murder.’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah!’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ Togen pushed his brother’s shoulder.

  ‘Yes, yeah!’ Mr Archer pushed him back. ‘How many more times?’

  ‘Mr Togen! Leonard! Please,’ Miss Jute tried – but in vain.

  Togen and Mr Archer carried on pushing each other, and every push was getting harder. Until they grabbed each other and fell to the floor. Fists flew in all directions as each brother tried to get the upper hand.

  ‘Someone do something. Leonard! Togen! Please stop.’ Miss Jute ran over to Franco. ‘Miss Franco, do something!’

  ‘My name isn’t Miss Franco, or even Franco. It’s Frances,’ Franco said calmly.

  ‘But I heard Mr Togen call you . . .’

  ‘That’s just one of my husband’s feeble little jokes.’ Franco sighed.

  ‘Togen’s your husband?’ Miss Jute said, astounded.

  Franco watched Togen and Mr Archer scuffle about on the ground. ‘Yes – unfortunately.’

  ‘Do something!’ Miss Jute pleaded.

  ‘OK. A fiver on Leonard Archer! Any takers?’

  Some of the other teachers gathered around to take up the bet.

  ‘Frances, that’s not the something I had in mind. Stop them.’ Miss Jute was beginning to wonder if she was speaking another language. Was she really the only one concerned about what was going on in the staff room?

  ‘I’m not going to stop them. It would serve my husband right if your fiancé wiped the floor with him,’ said Franco.

  Miss Jute gave up. Franco was absolutely no use at all.

  ‘You stay away from Judy, d’you understand? She’s worth fifty of you!’ Mr Archer sat on his brother’s chest to stop him from getting up. But then Togen reared up like a bucking mule and once again he and Mr Archer were rolling on the floor.

  At that precise moment, the staff room door opened. Reporters and photo journalists strolled into the room. And the moment they s
aw what was going on, their cameras started flashing. Mr Archer and Togen looked up from the floor to see what all the lights were. Mr Archer watched appalled as yet more flash photos were taken. He sprang to his feet, but it was too late.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Disguises

  BEN AND STEVE stood panting outside Ben’s front door. They’d run all the way from school and the crowd were still chasing behind them. Panic-stricken, Steve urged, ‘Come on, Ben, before they tear me limb from limb.’

  ‘STEVE! STEVE!’ the crowd behind them chanted.

  ‘Can I have a kiss, Steve?’

  ‘Can I have your autograph?’

  ‘Steve, can I have your shirt?’

  The cries of the mob were getting closer and closer.

  In his hurry to get his key in the lock, Ben dropped it on the ground. He dived after it, the beads at the end of his plaits swinging into his face.

  ‘I’ve got to do something about these butterflies in my hair,’ he muttered.

  ‘NEVER MIND YOUR HAIR. OPEN THE DOOR,’ Steve yelled.

  Ben scrambled to his feet and pushed the key into the lock. The mob were almost at the front gate.

  ‘BEN!’ Steve shouted

  The door flew open. Steve and Ben dived into the hall. Steve kicked the door shut behind him, just as the mob were coming up the front path.

  Whizziwig floated out of Ben’s bag. ‘If that’s what it’s like to be famous, then I must say I’m not keen.’

  ‘Why do these things always happen to me?’ Ben gasped, trying to catch his breath. ‘Especially when I’m so extra-wonderfully brilliant. Not to mention talented!’

  ‘My whole life flashed before my eyes there.’ Steve moved away from the front door. ‘I was terrified.’

  ‘First things first,’ Ben announced, standing up. ‘I’ve got to do something about my hair.’ And with that he strode off to the bathroom.

  Outside, it’d suddenly gone quiet. Steve crept back to the front door and peeped through the letter box. The crowd were standing outside the front gate on the pavement. They were looking up at the house. Steve moved back quickly, but he was too late. He’d been spotted.

  ‘WE WANT STEVE! WE WANT STEVE!’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ said Whizziwig.

  ‘Don’t worry! I’m not going to do it again.’ Steve shook his head and went off to find Ben.

  Ben was in the bathroom, cutting off first one plait, then another and another. He threw each of them into the bin so hard that they bounced.

  ‘So much for my plaits and butterflies and flowery beads!’ he said as he threw the last braid in.

  ‘I wish my problem was as easy to solve.’ Steve sighed.

  ‘I can’t grant that. You wished for yourself—’ Whizziwig began.

  ‘I know that,’ Steve said, annoyed.

  He and Whizziwig left the bathroom first, followed by Ben.

  ‘How does Emma cope with this brace?’ Ben ran his tongue over it. ‘I feel like I’ve got a hanger in my mouth!’

  ‘Never mind your brace,’ said Steve. ‘Or your plaits. I need your help.’

  ‘What plaits?’ Ben’s hands flew to his head. The plaits were back, and even longer than before.

  ‘Oh, no!’

  ‘Ben . . .’ Steve began.

  But Whizziwig had Ben’s full attention. ‘Whizziwig, please get rid of these things. I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll never make another wish again. Just get rid of them.’

  ‘No can do, I’m afraid. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re useless,’ Ben hissed.

  ‘And you’re charming!’ smiled Whizziwig.

  ‘Ben, I—’ Steve tried.

  ‘At least tomorrow is Saturday,’ Ben interrupted Steve. ‘So that’s something. Whizzy, tell me that’s it! Tell me you’re not going to change any other part of my body.’

  ‘I must confess, I’m not quite sure how this wish is going to work,’ Whizziwig admitted.

  ‘Ben, I—’

  But Steve was interrupted again.

  ‘Whizziwig, what’re my mum and dad going to say if I turn into a girl? How am I going to explain that?’

  ‘BEN!’ Steve had had enough.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Ben replied crossly. ‘And by the way, that shirt doesn’t go with those trousers. Blue and green should not be seen! A tulip-red or a nice purple shirt would look a lot better.’

  ‘Ben, get a grip!’ Steve ordered.

  ‘Sorry!’ Ben said ruefully. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘How am I going to get home?’

  ‘Have your legs stopped working?’ Whizziwig asked.

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a mob outside who won’t let me leave this house – not alive, at any rate!’ said Steve.

  ‘Hmmm!’ Ben smoothed out his eyebrows as he had a think. ‘I’ve got it! Come with me!’

  Ben and Steve raced up the stairs, with Whizziwig floating along behind them. Ben led the way into his mum and dad’s bedroom. He sat Steve down in front of the dressing table and searched through his mum’s wardrobe.

  ‘Found it!’ Ben grinned.

  And before Steve could stop him, he put the golden-brown wig in his hands on Steve’s head.

  ‘No way! You must be joking!’ Steve tried to pull it off, but Ben wouldn’t let him.

  ‘D’you want to leave this house today or not?’ Ben asked him.

  ‘I’m not wearing this wig,’ Steve insisted.

  ‘In that case, I’ll be sure to visit you in hospital once your fans outside have finished with you,’ said Ben.

  Steve’s hands dropped to his side. ‘Whizziwig, this is all your fault!’

  ‘Don’t look at me.’ Whizziwig sniffed. ‘You’re the one who kept going on about how wonderful it must be to be famous.’

  ‘I take it all back,’ Steve said at once. He looked at his reflection and shook his head. ‘How come your mum wears a wig then? Or is it your dad’s?’

  ‘No, it is not my dad’s,’ Ben said with indignation. ‘Mum wore it to a fancy-dress party she went to a while ago.’

  ‘What did she go as? A muppet?’ asked Steve.

  ‘No, she did not! She was supposed to be Beyoncé – but the wig got wet!’

  ‘D’you think this will work?’ Steve said doubtfully.

  Ben stroked his eyebrows for a moment.

  ‘Of course it will work. I thought of it and I’m extra-wonderfully brilliant.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve considered your problem from every angle and this is the best solution. Besides, I’m never wrong about these things.’

  ‘You’ve certainly got Emma’s modesty,’ Steve said. ‘OK, Ben, I trust you. I just wish I didn’t look so ridiculous.’

  ‘Try wearing beads with butterflies and flowers on them some time,’ Ben replied.

  ‘So now what?’ interrupted Steve.

  ‘Now we make sure that no one outside can possibly recognize you.’ Ben smiled. ‘I’ve got it all worked out . . . At least I think I have!’

  ‘Ben . . .’

  ‘It’ll be all right . . . At least I think it will!’ Ben frowned.

  ‘If you’re not sure . . .’ Steve was looking very worried now.

  ‘It’s just that it takes a lot of thought and energy to be right all the time. I’m just trying to make sure I haven’t overlooked anything. OK?’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of this,’ Steve said.

  ‘But you don’t have much choice, do you?’ Whizziwig pointed out.

  And Steve couldn’t argue with that.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Great Escape

  TWO HEADS POPPED up from the side wall of Ben’s back garden. One was covered with ribbons and beads. The other wore a Beyoncé wig. Ben was still wearing his brace and he was sure he could feel his eyelashes growing with each passing moment. Steve wore Ben’s mum’s blue flowery dress over his own clothes. The dress was belted in the middle to make sure that it stayed in place
.

  ‘Quick! Over the wall while the coast is clear,’ Ben whispered.

  They both clambered over the wall and onto the pavement.

  ‘I swear if you ever tell anyone about this . . .’ Steve began.

  ‘You must be joking. I’m not going to tell anyone,’ Ben replied at once. He looked around. Further down the road towards the front of his house, he saw two girls in the crowd watching them. He quickly turned away. ‘We’re being watched,’ he warned Steve.

  Steve began to turn around.

  ‘NO! Don’t look at them. Just start walking away,’ Ben urged.

  Steve started to stride off in the opposite direction.

  ‘No, walk slowly,’ said Ben. ‘Walk like a girl!’

  Ben started walking with a very peculiar sway to show Steve how to do it.

  ‘No way am I going to walk like that. There are limits, you know!’ said Steve.

  Ben and Steve started walking up the road. They didn’t notice the limousine driving past them. Inside, Franco sat next to Togen. She smiled maliciously as she dabbed at his swollen eye, his cut lip and his sore hand.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ she asked with a grin.

  ‘’Course it hurts!’ Togen snapped.

  ‘Isn’t that a shame!’ Franco’s grin broadened. ‘Maybe next time you’ll behave yourself.’

  ‘Yeah! You look totally devastated!’ Togen glanced out of the window and saw the crowd outside Ben’s house. ‘Stop the car! Stop the car!’

  Franco looked through the car window at the crowd and raised her eyes heavenwards. She knew what was coming next. Togen pressed a button and the window in the car door beside him moved down silently. He leaned out.

  ‘Hi, everyone!’

  All heads in the crowd turned to face him.

  ‘Yes, it’s me.’ Togen smiled. ‘Anyone want my autograph?’

  Every head turned back to Ben’s house.