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The Midnight Gang
The Midnight Gang
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The Midnight Gang

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The Midnight Gang

“Shush!” came a voice back. Tom was pretty sure it was coming from George’s bed.

“Please?” whispered Tom. “I haven’t eaten for ages.”

“Shush!” came another voice. “Any louder and you’ll get us all into trouble.”

“I only want one!” said Tom.

The boy must have spoken too loudly as at that moment …

CLICK!

… the lights in the children’s ward flickered back on.

Blinking at the brightness, Tom could make out Matron rushing out of her office.

“THERE IS NO TALKING AFTER LIGHTS OUT!” she shouted. “Now who was talking?”

All the children remained silent.

“You must tell me now who was talking or you will all be in deep, deep trouble!”

She scanned the ward for signs of anyone cracking under pressure. She looked to George, who looked guilty.

“Was it you, George?” she demanded.

George shook his head.

“Speak up, boy!”

Even from across the room, Tom could tell George’s mouth was full.

George tried to speak, but because of the large quantity of chocolate in his mouth, he couldn’t form words. “Mmm, mmm, mmm,” he murmured.

“What have you got in your mouth?”

George shook his head and tried to say “nothing” but it came out as, “Mmm, mmm, mmm.”

Matron approached his bed like a crocodile stalking its prey. “George! You are meant to be on a strict diet after your operation. But you are scoffing chocolates again, aren’t you?”

George shook his head.

The lady whipped back his bed sheet to reveal a large tin of chocolates. The tin was huge. It was the kind that your family might receive at Christmas and would last until next Christmas.


“You greedy pig!” said Matron. “These are confiscated!”

With that, she snatched the tin from his hands and whipped a tissue from a nearby box. “Now spit out the one you have in your mouth.”

Reluctantly, the boy did so.

“Who sent you these?” she demanded. “I know it couldn’t have been your father. I am not sure they are allowed chocolates in prison!”

Tom could tell George was angry, but the boy was doing his best to keep it in.

“They came from me local newsagent,” replied George. “I’m ’is favourite customer.”

“I bet you are! Look at the size of you!”

“You see, ’e knows I love these chocolates the most.”

“What is this stupid man’s name?”

“Raj,” replied George.

“Raj what?”

“Raj the newsagent.”

“I mean what’s his surname, you foolish child?”

“Dunno.”

“Well, I will try to trace him and with any luck have his shop closed down. After your operation, you are forbidden from eating chocolates, George.”

“Sorry, Matron.”

“‘Sorry’ isn’t good enough! The hospital principal, Sir Quentin Strillers, will have to be told about you defying doctor’s orders like this, George!”

“Yes, Matron,” answered the boy sorrowfully.

“I will deal with you in the morning! Now go to sleep! All of you!”

Matron stalked back towards her office. Once again, like Grandma’s Footsteps, she turned round several times to check the children were as still as statues.

CLICK!

The lights went off again, and Matron sat in her office. After a moment, the lady did the most incredible thing. She opened the tin and started scoffing the chocolates herself!

Matron seemed to like the big purple wrapped ones the best, as she made her way through them at quite a pace. She had barely popped one in her mouth when the next one was already being unwrapped ready for scoffing. Time passed and the more she ate, the sleepier she became. By nine o’clock, her eyelids were flickering. Still she ate and ate and ate. Perhaps she hoped the sugar in the chocolates would keep her awake. Strangely, they seemed to be having the opposite effect. By 10pm, her eyes were closing for a few seconds at a time. Still she ate and ate and ate. By 11pm, she was desperately trying to prop up her head in her hands, but it was becoming heavier and heavier and heavier. The scoffing slowed down too, and soon the chocolate mush dribbled out of her mouth and her head hit her desk with a loud …

THUD!

Through the glass, Matron could be heard snoring.

“ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ …”


The children on the ward all remained silent for a moment. Then out of the darkness someone whispered, “Well done, George.”

“I think the plan’s workin’!” he whispered back. George’s cockney accent made his voice stand out.

“What plan?” asked Tom.

“Shush!” came another voice.

“Go to sleep, new boy! Stop poking your nose into other people’s business,” said a girl. “Now, let’s all get ready to go at midnight.”

But of course Tom couldn’t sleep, especially now he knew the children were up to no good. What was going to happen at midnight?

The glow from the clock face of Big Ben shone through the tall window behind Tom’s bed. Suddenly Tom could see shadows flashing through the children’s ward. Figures were moving in the darkness.

Tom was frightened and couldn’t help but gasp. “Aaah!”

Just then he felt a hand on his mouth, silencing him.

This made Tom even more frightened.

“Shush!” hissed someone. “Don’t make a sound. We don’t want anyone wakin’ up Matron.”

The hand was soft and fleshy and smelled of chocolate, and as Tom’s eyes adjusted to the dark he realised it was indeed George’s.

Tom’s eyes darted over to the matron’s office. The lady was still fast asleep in her chair, her head resting on her desk, snoring away.

“ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZ, ZZZZZZ …”

“Not one sound!” repeated George.

Tom nodded his agreement to the boy, who slowly removed his hand.

Then Tom looked behind him towards the giant clock. He could see across the rooftops of London. It was approaching midnight.

Soon it was clear that it wasn’t just George who was out of his bed. Robin was also there, pushing Amber along in a wheelchair. The wheelchair was old and rusty, and even had a flat tyre. Because Robin had bandages over his eyes, he couldn’t see a thing. Amber’s bandaged legs banged straight into the wall.

“OW!” she cried.

“Shush!” said Robin and George. Tom found himself joining in too.

“Shush!”

“Let me!” said George. He guided Robin to one side, and then took over the pushing of Amber. Robin put his hand on George’s shoulder, and like a rather pitiful conga the trio shuffled out of the ward.


“Where are you going?” asked Tom.

“Shush!” the three children replied.

“Can you please stop telling me to ‘shush’ all the time!” protested Tom.

“Just go to sleep, new boy!” hissed Amber.

“But …” Tom protested.

“You are not in our gang!” added George.

“But I really want to be in your gang,” pleaded Tom.

“Well, you can’t be, mate!” replied George.

“But it’s not fair!” moaned Tom.

“Please can you turn the volume down, dear!” snapped Robin.

“YES, BE QUIET!” said Amber.

“I am being quiet!” replied Tom.

“You are not being quiet! You are talking and that’s not being quiet! We all have to be quiet!” said Amber.

“Then you be quiet!” said Tom.

“Oh for goodness’ sake, will you all please be quiet?!” said Robin, a little too loudly.

All the children’s heads turned towards the matron’s office at the end of the ward. Matron stirred a little at the noise, but didn’t wake up. There was a collective sigh of relief.

“The ol’ moo shouldn’t wake up for a couple of hours at least,” said George. “There was one of my special snoozy pellets that Dr Luppers gave me pushed inside each of those chocolates.”


“Well done for remembering she liked the purple ones the best,” said Amber.

“No point ruinin’ a whole tin of chocolates, was there?” replied George with a smirk.

“You crafty devils!” said Tom.

“Why, thank you!” replied Robin, bowing his head as if for applause.

“Now, new boy,” said Amber, “go back to bed right now. And, remember, you did not see a thing! Let’s go.”

With that, the three friends trundled out of the double doors. At that moment the chimes of Big Ben started.

BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG!

Tom listened and counted. Twelve bongs. It was midnight.

The boy was sitting up in his bed. Now it was just him and Sally left in the children’s ward. He looked over to her bed. She was asleep, as she had been since Tom arrived in the ward quite a few hours ago.

Despite his swollen head, Tom felt restless. There was no way he wanted to miss out on all the fun. So he took a giant leap into the unknown, and decided to follow them. Tom felt like a super-spy. But the feeling didn’t last. As the boy eased himself out of bed, his left foot went straight into the bedpan on the floor.



Tom couldn’t prise his foot out of the bedpan. The boy wanted to shout out in frustration, but knew this would only make matters worse. The last thing he wanted to do was wake up Matron, who was still snoring away in her office. The boy looked over to Sally’s bed in the far corner of the ward. She was lying in bed, a glint of light from Big Ben just catching the top of her bald head. Tom didn’t want to wake her up either.

At least the bedpan wasn’t full, he thought.

As quickly and quietly as he could, Tom reached down and prised his foot from the bedpan. Then he tiptoed out of the children’s ward. To his annoyance, his bare feet made squelching noises on the shiny floor.

SQUELCH

SQUELCH

SQUELCH

SQUELCH

As his fingers touched the heavy swing doors at the entrance to the ward, he was seconds from freedom. Just then a voice made Tom jump out of his skin.

“So, new boy, where are you going?”

The boy turned round. It was Sally.

“Nowhere,” he lied.

“You can’t be going nowhere; you must be going somewhere.”

“Please just go back to sleep,” pleaded Tom. “You will wake up Matron.”

“Oh no, they do this every night. That nasty woman won’t wake up for hours.”

“I really think you should get some rest.”

“Boring!”

“It’s not boring,” replied Tom. “Now come on, go back to sleep.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean ‘no’. Come on, Tom, take me with you,” said Sally.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean ‘no’.”

“Why?” protested the girl.

The reason Tom didn’t think Sally should come was that she looked weak. He was worried that she would slow him down. But he didn’t want to say that. That would hurt her feelings. So he said something else instead.

“Look, Sally, I am just going to catch up with the others and tell them they need to come straight back to bed.”

“Liar.”

“No I’m not!” he said with a little too much gusto, which made him seem like he was lying.

“You are lying. Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

Tom shook his head a little too vigorously.

“I know you must think I’m not going to keep up with you or something,” said Sally.

“No!”

“Yes. Come on! Admit it! I’m not stupid!”

No, thought Tom, this girl is smart. Super smart. There weren’t any girls in Tom’s boarding school so he had hardly met any. Tom hadn’t thought that girls could be smart. The boy immediately had a feeling that this girl could beat him at everything. Tom didn’t like that feeling.

“No, it’s not that, honest,” lied the boy. Then as he stood there looking at her his curiosity got the better of him. “Sally, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask.”

“Why have you got no hair?”

“I decided to shave it all off so I could look exactly like a boiled egg,” replied Sally, as quick as a flash.

Tom chuckled. Whatever the girl might have lost, it wasn’t her sense of humour.

“Is it because of your illness?”

“Yes and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s actually the treatment that did this.”

“The treatment?!” Tom couldn’t believe it. If the treatment did this, then what did the illness do? “But you are going to get better, though?”

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know.” Then she quickly changed the subject. “Do you think you will ever recover from a cricket ball hitting you on the head?!”

Tom chuckled. “I hope not. If I do, then I have to go back to school.”

“I wish I could go back to school.”

“What?” The boy had never heard another child say such a thing.


“I have been in this place for months now. I miss my school. Even the horrible teachers.”

Even though Tom had only just met Sally, it was as if he was talking to an old friend. Then the boy realised he had to leave right now if he was to have a chance of catching up with the others. “I have to go.”

“And you definitely aren’t going to take me?”

Tom looked at Sally. She looked too unwell to get out of bed, let alone go on some crazy adventure. Tom felt guilty to be leaving her behind, but he felt he had no choice.

“Maybe next time,” lied the boy.

Sally smiled. “Look, Tom, I understand. The others have never invited me. You go. But I want you to promise me something.”

“What?” he asked.

“I want you to tell me all about the night’s adventure when you get back.”

“I will,” he said.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Tom looked Sally right in the eyes as he said it. He really didn’t want to let his new friend down.

Then the boy pushed open the heavy swing doors. Light spilled in from the corridor. Just before he disappeared from sight Sally said, “I hope it’s an awfully big adventure.”

He smiled at the girl before he pushed the doors open and was swallowed up by the light.


Pacing down the brightly lit corridor outside the children’s ward, it suddenly occurred to Tom that he had absolutely no idea where he was going. His new friend Sally had delayed him somewhat, and now the other three children were long gone.

What’s more, LORD FUNT HOSPITAL was a spooky place after dark. Distant sounds echoed down the long corridors. The building was tall and wide. There were forty-four floors of wards and operating rooms. There was everything from rooms for delivering babies to a mortuary where people were taken after they died. The hospital was home to hundreds of patients, and nearly as many staff. At midnight all the patients should be fast asleep, but there would still be night staff, including cleaners and security guards, roaming the corridors. If Tom was discovered out of his bed, he would be in big trouble. What’s more, he was wearing a pink, frilly nightdress. If anyone was to see him, he would have some serious explaining to do.

Tom looked to the direction signs on the wall, which weren’t much help as letters had fallen off.

ENTRANCE & EXIT had become N IT.

ACCIDENT & EMERGENCY was now CIDE R.

RECEPTION read simply P O.

SURGERY now read SU ER.

RADIOLOGY had become RAD LOG, whatever that was.

ADMINISTRATION was now MIN T.

THEATRE was HEAT.

CHILDREN’S WARD read simply WAR, which might not be such a bad description of what it was like in there.

REHABILITATION had changed into HAB IT ON.

PHYSIOTHERAPY had become H OT HEAP.

X-RAY had become simply RAY, so if you were looking for a man called “Ray” all you had to do was follow the arrow.

There was a sign that read IF S which Tom guessed must have been LIFTS at some distant point in the hospital’s past, and so he followed the arrow.

When he reached the lifts, Tom noticed that the arrow above the large metal shiny doors was descending rapidly. He guessed it might be the three children travelling down. The boy watched as the arrow swung all the way down to “B” for basement.

Tom gulped. It was bound to be dark in the basement. And Tom hated the dark. What’s more, the thought of bumping into the porter flashed through his mind. What if Tom felt a hand on his shoulder to stop him and when he looked round it was the terrifying-looking man staring back at him?

For a moment the boy felt like turning back, and then realised that Sally might think he was a scaredy-cat. So, with some hesitation, he pushed the button and waited nervously for the lift to come.

PING!

The doors opened.

PING!

The doors closed.

With his finger trembling, Tom pushed “B” for basement, and the lift trundled down to the darkest depths of the hospital.

With a jolt, the lift stopped.

PING!

The doors opened, and Tom stepped out into the darkness.


The boy was now alone in the basement of LORD FUNT HOSPITAL. His bare feet felt the cold, wet concrete beneath him. Above him on the ceiling was a strip of fluorescent lights, though most had blown, meaning it was all but pitch black down here.

PING!

Tom jumped. It was just the lift doors closing after him.

The sound of water dripping from pipes echoed along the corridor ahead of him.

Slowly Tom made his way along it. When he came to the end, there were four corridors, two to the left and two to the right. It was a maze down here. The boy looked to see if he could make out any wheelchair tracks on the floor. It was hard to see anything with so little light, so Tom bent down to study the floor. At that moment, a creature brushed past his face.

“Aaarrrggghhh!” His scream echoed down the corridor. At first Tom thought it might have been a rat, but he could just see the creature hopping off. It looked more like a bird, but if it was a bird what was it doing all the way down here?

In the dirt on the floor, Tom could see some tyre marks heading down one of the corridors on the right, so he followed them.

After a few paces, he could feel the stale air in the basement becoming warmer. Just up ahead was a giant furnace where the hospital’s waste was being burned. Not far from that, Tom saw a huge basket on wheels. He looked inside. It was full of laundry. Above it was a small hatch. Just then more bed sheets tumbled out of the hatch and fell into the laundry basket. The boy realised that this must be the end of a chute leading down from the wards above.

Every few paces there were doors, and more corridors. Tom followed the tyre tracks as they snaked their way through the basement.

The tracks led on to a corridor that was pitch black.

All the lights in this section of the basement must be broken, thought Tom.

The boy hesitated before going forward. His worst fear was the dark. Still, it seemed foolish to turn back now. He might be about to find the other children and uncover their secret midnight adventure. Slowly 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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