Oh, Alice, Alice, Alice! (Inside Story 8)

By Dr E J Yeaman

A mysterious stranger visited a story called Tom Brown’s Schooldays. That meant a mission for me. I’m Jam Rodger, and I’m a Guardian: it’s my job to stop people from spoiling stories. I went to Tom Brown’s Schooldays, and hid in the study of a bully called Flashman. I overheard him plotting with the stranger to cause trouble for a girl called Alice. But there were three girls called Alice – in Alice in Wonderland, The Children of the New Forest, and The Treasure Seekers. Could I guard them all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dr E J Yeaman
• Release date: Jan 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311425935

Dr E J Yeaman

I retired (early) and started a new career as a writer. I wrote short stories and articles. Some were published; some won prizes; some sank without trace.Having heard my stories, two friends suggested I should write for children. I’d never thought of that, although I’d spent my first career communicating with young people – as a Chemistry teacher, and running clubs for badminton, chess, table tennis and hillwalking.I tried writing for young people – and I loved it. It became my main occupation. I sent samples to publishers. One asked to see a complete story. In excitement, I sent it off. Then nothing. After four months, I rang, and was told the manuscript was being considered: I would be notified. Then more nothing. Now, after eight years, I no longer rush to the door when the letter box rattles.But I kept writing the stories because I enjoyed it so much. Until, in late 2013, I learned I could publish my stories and games as e-books. Since then, I’ve been polishing and issuing some of them. I hope everyone enjoys reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.Check out the series:C: Charades – party game – a new twist to the traditional game.D: Diagags – party game – gags written as plays for two people.M: My Story – novels – classical stories, told by the heroes.O: One-Offs – party game – guess the titles, not quite the classical ones.P: Pop Tales – short stories – inspired by 60s and 70s hit songs.Q: Quote-Outs – word games – can you deduce the missing words?S: Inside Story – novels – a boy’s adventures inside classical stories.T: Troubleshooters – novels – space adventures for young people.

Book preview

S8

OH, ALICE, ALICE, ALICE!

0

This is background stuff. If you’ve read any of my other reports, you can skip it.

I think Professor X invented the incorporator. It looks like a small grey e-book reader, but it can take you to any place in any (old) story. You are actually in the story: you can meet the people, and explore the places.

Some people visit stories, wanting to spoil them. They’re called Wreckers. Sherlock Holmes is the leader of the Guardians, who try to stop the Wreckers. I wangled a job as a Guardian by suggesting they should have a boy to work in children’s books.

My name is James Rodger, but my mates call me Jam. I mustn’t tell Mum and Dad I’m a Guardian, because I’ve sworn to keep the incorporators secret.

1

Sitting at my desk, I checked my bedside clock. 5.00. Should I do my maths homework or have half an hour on the computer before tea? If I…. Sherlock Holmes appeared, sitting on the bed. That made me forget maths homework, and even the computer.

He said, James, I have been asked to offer you a mission. Give me your incorporator.

I dug it from the darkest corner of the wardrobe. Sherlock Holmes set it and gave it to me. The display on the screen read:

Title: Tom Brown’s Schooldays

Author: Thomas Hughes

Edition: 1995

Page: 157.

Sherlock Holmes said, Professor X believes that a Wrecker has visited that story, perhaps to recruit a character called Flashman.

I felt a tingle of excitement. D’you want me to take a look?

He frowned. Speaking for myself, I do not want you to go near that story. However, it is set in a boys’ boarding school, so Professor X suggested that you might be sent. Do you wish to go?

Yeah. I’ll give it a try.

"Your instructions are simple. Check that story. Look for evidence that the Wreckers have recruited Flashman. That is all. Do not attempt any plans of your own. Can I trust you to do as you are told? I would prefer to send someone else. You take foolish risks."

That’s not fair. My other missions have been successful.

Only after you have given me great anxiety. I have asked Nicholas Nickleby if he would help. He might accompany you and guide you. That would ease my mind.

No. Two strangers would make the people in the story suspicious, especially that character. What’s his name? Flashman.

Nicholas Nickleby has worked in a boys’ school. He would not arouse suspicion.

No. Don’t bother him. Leave it to me.

If you are certain….

Yeah. I’ll do it.

He sighed. If you insist. Please take great care. Try to think before you act – if that is possible. Make your visit brief. If you have not returned in two hours, I shall send someone to find you.

Thanks. What would I find in Tom Brown’s Schooldays? I held the incorporator tight, took a deep breath, and pressed Go.

2

No flash. No bang. One moment, I was sitting at my desk; next moment, I was standing in a long, gloomy room. A dining hall? Two long tables sat along the room, with bench seats on each side of them. A row of high windows showed a grey winter sky, but most of the light came from the fires in two huge fireplaces in the wall opposite the windows. Two big armchairs faced each fire.

The incorporator always gives gear to suit the story. What kind of story was this? I was dressed like a butler or a penguin, with a white shirt, black jacket and trousers, and shiny black shoes. Oh, and a bow tie: I could feel it under my chin. If this was a school, was I a pupil or a servant?

Nobody was in sight: the incorporator won’t make you appear or disappear in front of anyone who doesn’t know about it. I set the incorporator for the ‘story’ that would take me home, and slipped it in my right-hand trouser pocket. Who was I looking for? A guy called Flashman. How could I…?

Hello, hello. Who might you be? A boy appeared from the gloom at one end of the room. He looked a bit older than me – maybe fifteen or sixteen – and was handsome in a film-starry kind of way, with a round, smiling face and dark, curly hair. His gear was the same as mine.

I’m James, I said. James Rodger. I’m new here.

Welcome to Rugby, Rodger, said the boy. Would you like me to show you some of the customs of the school?

Was it the way he said it, or the gleam in his eyes? I didn’t trust him, but I said, Er… thank you.

Sir, he prompted.

I hesitated. I’d hate to call him, ‘Sir’, but I didn’t want to fall out with him – partly because he was bigger than me, and partly because I didn’t want to get mixed up in any trouble: it might spoil my chances of finding Flashman.

Sir, he said, louder.

Sir, I said.

That’s better, he said. Fetch my hat.

Eh?

You heard me. It’s the custom here for kids to fag. That means to serve the senior men. He moved nearer, and grinned down at me. I told you: fetch my hat.

But… I… I don’t know where it is.

Are you disobeying me? It’s time you learned that fags must do as they are told. He grabbed my arm and twisted it up my back.

Ow! I…. Ow! I… I didn’t….

Flashman! Stop that! A boy stood up from one of the armchairs, where we hadn’t seen him. He looked a bit younger than me, with the usual gear.

The bully was Flashman! I hadn’t taken long to find him, or, to be more accurate, he hadn’t taken long to find me.

His hold relaxed as he said, Ah! It’s young Brown. You had better not teach this new fag your rebellious ways.

You’re a big bully, Flashman, said Brown. You wouldn’t do that if the Doctor was here.

Flashman’s teeth gleamed in the firelight. The Doctor is not here. So what is going to stop me?

Try this! Brown threw a thick book. It hit Flashman in the face.

You young villain! Flashman let go of me and went for Brown. I stuck out a foot. Flashman tripped over it and sprawled on the stone floor.

Move, Rodger! Brown ran.

I took my first step – on the shoulders of Flashman, who was starting to get up. With an Oof! and a bump as his face hit the floor, he went flat again.

I followed Brown at a run through double doors into a dim passage with two doors on each side and a big one in the other end. He pulled open the first door on the right, dragged me through into darkness, and pulled the door shut. It must’ve been a cupboard: it was dark, with a soapy smell, and we were squeezed together, with something digging in my back.

3

We waited breathlessly as the double doors crashed back. Feet pounded along the passage outside. A door banged, then silence.

Brown pushed open our door. Thus triumphs brains over brawn. Hello. I’m Brown, Tom Brown. May I offer you a more friendly welcome to Rugby than Flashman gave you. He held out his hand.

Thanks!