THE next day, Lottie woke up early and, much to her mother’s surprise, bounced down to breakfast before King Lupo had even started on his boiled egg.
‘Lottie!’ Queen Mila said. ‘What’s happened to you?’
‘I can’t wait to go to school!’ Lottie told her. ‘I want to meet up with my new friends so we can make a start on my Bloom Garden. I had such a lovely day yesterday!’
‘I hope they treated you with the right and proper respect, Lottie. Remember, you’re a princess now!’ King Lupo sliced the top off his egg. ‘Oh, it’s runny! I do hate runny eggs.’
Lottie shook her head at him. ‘Don’t go on and on about that princess stuff, Pa. I’m fine.’ And she grabbed a piece of toast and headed for the door. Jaws, who was dozing on the curtain rail, woke with a jump and flapped after her.
As soon as she reached Shadow Academy, Lottie ran round to the wasteland. She was delighted to see that there were already signs of action. There was a large board pinned on the fence with a rota on it, and two young werewolf pupils were already pulling up thistles and weeds. An older werewolf in a suit was standing watching, but when Lottie wished him a cheerful ‘Good morning!’ he frowned at her.
‘And what exactly do you think you’re doing here?’
Lottie stared at him in surprise. She had seen him before, at the Evening Howl, and had wondered who he was. He’d been looking cross then, as if he wasn’t enjoying it.
‘Excuse me,’ she said politely. ‘I’m Lottie Luna… I designed the garden. I’ve come to help.’
‘And I’m Mr Gnawbone, the deputy head of Shadow Academy. I’d have thought a clever little werewolf like you would have known that. Aren’t you supposed to be the best at everything, Lottie Luna?’
As the older werewolf sneered at her, Lottie noticed that he had the same strange green eyes as his son, Bruno. He was still sneering as he added, ‘It’s no good trying your goody-goody tricks on me. You should be in school, not wandering about where people are trying to work. Your name isn’t on the rota until later. Don’t let me see you here again unless you’re with your teacher.’
‘But… but…’ Lottie wanted to remind him that it was her garden design that had been chosen for the wasteland, but she didn’t want to sound rude. Jaws, hovering above her, saw her moonstone necklace turn dull, and knew she was upset. Flying down, he settled on her shoulder to comfort her.
‘Do you understand?’ Mr Gnawbone growled. His eyes were very cold.
‘Yes, Mr Gnawbone,’ Lottie said, and she hurried back inside the school.
As she walked down the corridor to her classroom, with the little bat still on her shoulder, she wondered why Bruno’s father had been so mean to her. Maybe Bruno told him that I nearly got him into trouble for eating mints, she thought.
‘Hi, Lottie!’ It was Marjory. ‘Have you been to look at the garden?’
‘Yes, but Bruno’s father told me off for being there on my own,’ Lottie said, and Marjory pulled a face.
‘He’s horribly strict. He’s new, so we’re all hoping he won’t last here for long. No one likes him – he’s not a bit like the other teachers.’
Lottie didn’t like Mr Gnawbone either, but she decided not to let that spoil her day. ‘What lessons have we got today?’ she asked.
Marjory looked vague. ‘Night shadows, I think… sort of mixed up with working out distances. We’re doing a study on night running and how long it takes to get to different places. Hey! You can run really fast, can’t you? We saw you yesterday. You were mega-speedy.’
‘Only because Bernie was in trouble,’ Lottie said.
Marjory gave her a sideways look. ‘I don’t want to pry, but is there something special about you, Lottie? You can run like the wind, and I’ve never seen anyone swim as fast as you did.’
‘Mmmm…’ Lottie blushed. She was tempted to explain, but she did so want to be just like everyone else.
‘It’s okay,’ Marjory said quickly. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’ She squeezed Lottie’s hand, and Lottie gave her a grateful smile.
‘It’s nothing. Truly. And I’m terrible at geography – you’ll have to help me with that.’
Wilf was already in the classroom when Marjory and Lottie walked in, and he jumped up when he saw them. ‘We’re not going to have proper lessons today,’ he told them. ‘Isn’t it brilliant? We’re all going to help to create the Bloom Garden instead! Apparently, the owner wants to see how it turns out as soon as possible, so she can decide whether she wants us to have the land – or whether she should sell it to the builder. He wants to put a road through to Dracon Hill.’
‘He wants to build a road?’ Lottie asked. ‘A road at the back of Shadow Academy? That’s horrible!’
Just then, Aggie came into the classroom. She heard what Lottie said and sniffed. ‘SOME builders are very nice,’ she said. ‘My father certainly is.’
‘Sorry, Aggie.’ Lottie was genuinely apologetic. ‘I’m sure he is.’ She looked at Bruno, who was beside Aggie as usual. ‘I met your father just now, Bruno. He looks much more like a teacher than a builder, doesn’t he?’
Bruno went bright red with anger. ‘What do you mean? My dad IS a teacher! He’s never been a builder. Never!’
‘But Aggie said—’ Lottie stopped. Aggie was glaring at her. ‘Sorry… I must have got that wrong.’
‘Yes, you must have,’ Bruno growled. ‘Completely wrong.’
Lottie was still trying to think of something to say to put it right, when Mrs Wilkolak came hurrying in and she was saved from answering.
‘Time to get ready, everyone,’ their teacher said. ‘We’ve lots to do today!’ And five minutes later, the whole class was outside.
‘This is better than geography,’ Marjory said, as she pulled up a large thistle. ‘Can we help every day, Mrs Wilkolak?’
Mrs Wilkolak chuckled. ‘I’m sure you can help again tomorrow morning – if you promise to work extra hard tomorrow afternoon!’
‘We promise!’ Wilf, Marjory and Lottie all spoke together, and Mrs Wilkolak chuckled again.
‘It’s a deal!’ she said.
By the end of the day, the garden was looking very different. All the weeds had been cleared, and a large area had been dug over, ready for planting. Lottie had marked out the pattern for her design with white pebbles. Mrs Wilkolak had promised to make sure there would be enough to edge the paths. ‘And plenty of white flowers,’ Lottie said dreamily. ‘Lilies and moon daisies – I love those! – and night-scented stocks… and orange blossom, and lots and lots of Queen Anne’s lace…’
Marjory looked at her in wonder. ‘How do you know so much about flowers, Lottie?’
‘We had a garden where I lived before, and Ma and I both love flowers.’ Lottie giggled. ‘My poor pa’s hopeless, though. He can’t tell a daisy from a dandelion!’
‘Does your new house have a garden?’ Wilf asked.
Lottie came down to earth with a bump. She had to be careful – she could see Aggie was listening, and she really didn’t want her to find out that she lived in Dracon Castle. She hesitated, then said, ‘We do, but it’s a bit wild at the moment. I don’t think anyone’s bothered about it for ages.’
But Aggie had seen her hesitation, and her gaze sharpened. ‘So where exactly do you live, Lottie?’
‘Oh… up on the hill…’ Lottie waved a vague hand and tried to change the subject. ‘I forgot to say, we ought to have roses. Little white ones, as well as pink and red. And at least two benches, so people can sit and rest… and maybe lilac too – lilac smells absolutely lovely in the evening.’
Aggie started to say something about roses but was interrupted by Mrs Wilkolak. ‘Everyone, inside. It’s nearly time for the Evening Howl, and you all need a good wash first.’
As Lottie jumped up, she wondered if perhaps it was time to tell Wilf and Marjory about Dracon Castle. After all, they’re my friends … I don’t want to keep secrets from them. And the thought made her happy as she hurried off to wash her hands.