The Jam Doughnut That Ruined My Life by Mark Lowery

The Jam Doughnut That Ruined My Life by Mark Lowery

Author:Mark Lowery [Mark Lowery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 2015-09-07T00:00:00+00:00


Flat Out

Rosie ran off and returned with Mr Noblet. ‘What’s going down, guys?’ he asked.

‘Well …’ began Rosie.

Gamble stamped on her foot to shut her up and told his version of what happened. By the time he’d finished his story – about how the guinea pig had gone for Mrs McDonald’s throat and he’d had to beat it off with the doughnut – Mrs McDonald had woken up.

‘Where am I?’ she said, in a floaty voice. ‘Where’s Mr Wiggles? Who shaved him?’

‘Crumbs,’ said Mr Noblet, biting his lip. ‘She’s delirious. Did you see anything, Miss Clegg?’

From over Miss Clegg’s shoulder, I could see that she’d used her phone to take a photo of Mrs McDonald when she was lying on the ground. She was just posting it on Facebook with the tag: ‘My teacher, working flat out’.

‘Nope,’ she said, sliding her phone into her pocket. ‘I was in the bog.’

Mr Noblet looked like he’d just swallowed something sour.

‘Covered in glitter and feathers …’ said Mrs McDonald, her head lolling about.

‘You poor thing,’ said Mr Noblet, helping Mrs McDonald to her feet. ‘You’ve been working too hard. Home to rest, I think. I’ll take your class. Miss Clegg – a hand.’

Miss Clegg tutted loudly and huffed over to the stricken Mrs McDonald. Together, they helped her out of the classroom.

When they’d gone, Rosie Taylor turned on Gamble and angrily pushed her hair back. ‘You’re lying and I’m going to tell Mr Noblet what really happened.’

‘Try it and I’ll smash yer teeth out,’ said Gamble.

‘Yeah, Rosie,’ said Jane. ‘Button it. Or else.’

I mentally added ‘threatening people’ to the list of things Jane had started doing since I’d given her a piece of the deadly doughnut on Monday.

‘Maybe we should try to get Mr Wiggles back?’ I said. ‘You know, for Mrs McDonald.’

‘Good idea,’ said Gamble. ‘You still owe me a doughnut, though. This one’s covered in guinea pig spit. Even I won’t eat that.’

And with that, he threw the remaining lump into the bin. Even though the doughnut had been in Gamble’s armpit and Mr Wiggles’ mouth, I felt my stomach muscles clench. Binning doughnuts is a horrible crime. It’s like taking a beautiful painting and blowing your nose with it.

‘And don’t forget you owe me forty-nine,’ Jane said, fluttering her eyelashes.

Added to the one I was desperate for myself, I was now on minus fifty-one doughnuts. I bit my lip. There was another problem: my twenty pounds was in Mrs McDonald’s desk. If she’d gone home, how could she go to the shop to get them for me?

Things were getting worse by the second.

For the rest of the day, Mr Noblet got us to design a machine we’d like to invent. This is the kind of doss-about lesson that headteachers always give you so they can sit at the front and get on with paperwork.

By the way, I don’t want to sound big-headed but my machine was brilliant. It was called The Multiblaster. All you had to do was zap something with a laser and it’d make hundreds of copies of it.



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