Miss Frost tapped her foot impatiently. ‘And where exactly is the food you ordered?’

Mr Bambuckle pointed to the twisted gum tree in the centre of the camping ground. ‘Inside there, of course – freshly delivered.’

Miss Frost turned just in time to see the shadow of an incredibly short man vanish into the thick scrub.

‘Tell that marvellous boss of yours I owe him one,’ called Mr Bambuckle.

‘He says he owes you,’ sang a friendly reply from somewhere in the dark.

Miss Frost’s lips twitched at the irregularity of the situation. Although she did well not to show it, she was furious with frustration. Mr Bambuckle’s methods were highly unorthodox and she didn’t like it one bit.

She advanced towards the tree, examining the inside of its trunk with her torch. There were piles of provisions and fresh food, all of it packed safely in a variety of cooling bags and plastic containers. There was cutlery and a toaster, and everything in between – gas cookers, utensils, plates and cups. The resourceful teacher had triumphed.

‘We would be most honoured if you’d join us for dinner,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘I budgeted for fifteen children and two adults.’

Miss Frost’s reply was chilling. ‘Dinner is the last thing on my mind. I’ve come to assess you and your so-called “strategies”. I’ll have you know I’m staying for the entire duration of camp, and I will catch you out on something. Discipline is the new order.’

Scarlett, who was feeling a little vulnerable, fidgeted on her seat.

‘How delightful,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘If you’re staying for the whole camp then we shall enjoy your company all the more.’ He placed a log on the fire, quenching its thirst for fuel.

The evening stars were piercing the night sky. The children had never seen such a bright, starry display. Even Albert, who often enjoyed spending his evenings peering through a telescope, was impressed. ‘I should have brought my journal,’ he said. ‘It’s a celebration of constellations!’

The students had had such fun setting up their tents and listening to Vinnie’s story, they hadn’t realised how hungry they’d become. The marshmallows, as tasty as they were, had simply roused their appetites.

‘Now, who would like to help with dinner?’ said Mr Bambuckle, addressing the students.

‘Yes, please!’ chorused the class, all of them eager to please their teacher.

‘Not so fast,’ said Miss Frost. ‘There are standards that must be observed.’ She slid out a thick folder from her bag and opened it to the first page. ‘I expect you’ve followed these protocols.’ She sat down on one of the logs and tapped the space beside her, inviting Mr Bambuckle into the frightening world of paperwork. ‘As for the students,’ she added, ‘I expect them to wait patiently.’

Before adhering to Miss Frost’s demands, Mr Bambuckle turned to the children. ‘Kindness and teamwork – you’ll know what to do.’

‘Don’t look at me,’ said Ren Rivera. ‘I may be good at detecting, but I’ve got no clue in this case. Miss Frost is not one for being interrupted.’

‘They’ve been poring over that folder for ages,’ said Sammy, with a groan. ‘My stomach is rumbling louder than Slugger’s snoring.’

‘Why are there so many rules Mr Bambuckle has to follow?’ complained Myra.

‘Because Miss Frost is changing our school,’ said Victoria. ‘Remember, discipline is the new order.’

‘I can’t take this much longer,’ said Sammy. ‘I’m so hungry, I could eat a hose.’

‘I think you mean “house”,’ said Slugger.

‘I’m sure it’s “hearse”,’ said Damon.

‘I’m so hungry I could eat a harp,’ suggested Vinnie.

‘Horse!’ corrected Albert.

‘Kindness and teamwork,’ pondered Miffy Armstrong, flexing the toned muscles in her arm. ‘Maybe we should get dinner ready ourselves? We could cook something yummy for the teachers.’

‘That’s it!’ cried Victoria. ‘How selfish of us not to work it out. We’ve been too busy complaining about our empty tummies. We should be looking outwards, not inwards.’

Damon was the first to agree with Victoria. ‘What she said!’

‘Pure dead brilliant!’ said Harold. ‘Let’s make dinner.’

‘We’ll need a head chef,’ said Miffy.

‘Slugger!’ The decision was unanimous.

Miss Frost, while usually one to take pleasure in catching children out, was so committed to torturing Mr Bambuckle with checklists and rules that she failed to notice the students moving about. Mr Bambuckle, on the other hand, kept one eye on the protocols and the other on his class. His chest filled with pride as they stealthily set to work.

Miffy and Sammy used their strength to unpack and carry a trestle table over from the bus.

‘I’m stronger than a fox,’ said Sammy.

‘I think you mean “stronger than a box”,’ said Miffy.

‘Ox!’ called Albert from the other side of the camp site.

They set up the table beneath the twisted gum tree before tending to the fire, which required another log. Even the sudden burst of flames wasn’t enough to draw Miss Frost’s grey-blue eyes away from her folder.

Harold and Myra passed things from the hollow trunk to Slugger as he asked for them. The table soon became the sturdy base of a makeshift kitchen.

Slugger, who had enlisted the help of Scarlett and Carrot, instructed his sous-chefs to prepare the vegetables for the main course. Scarlett peeled the potatoes while Carrot peeled the carrots – something he had always loved doing.

Fresh water was carted from the nearby river in small containers by Albert and Victoria. They made multiple trips by torchlight – never complaining – and boiled the water over the fire, before pouring it into a large plastic tub that acted as a washing basin.

Damon, who was jealous of the time Albert got to spend with Victoria, pushed the thoughts away for the greater good. He took the next best possible job for his interests – rinsing the snow peas and beans in the basin. He beamed every time Victoria returned from the river with more water.

Evie was Damon’s offsider, enjoying the fact she could wash and rinse without being attacked by an appliance. She had once had a nasty experience with a washing machine, but it seemed a distant memory now.

Ren and Vinnie, as only best friends can, brainstormed dessert ideas. Slugger was feeling generous and had asked for a suggestion.

‘Chocolate mousse?’ said Ren.

‘We don’t have any cream,’ said Vinnie. ‘What about iceblocks?’

‘No freezer,’ said Ren.

‘Jelly?’

‘Too wobbly.’

‘Pancakes?’

‘Mr Bambuckle’s specialty.’

While they couldn’t agree to begin with, the best friends’ telepathy was in scrumptious synchronisation as they both thought back to their first sleepover. ‘Chocolate-dipped fairy bread!’ they cried together.

‘Chocolate-dipped fairy bread it is,’ said Slugger.

Mr Bambuckle shook his head in amazement. The class were tapping into their true potential and he felt honoured to be witnessing it.

‘Why are you shaking your head?’ hissed Miss Frost. ‘Do you not understand the importance of section 36-P?’

‘Indeed, I understand,’ said the teacher. He turned back to the folder, but not before glancing over his shoulder into the trees.

Peter Strayer was absent from the bulk of the action in the clearing. He was busy roaming deep in the bush, setting up something special at Mr Bambuckle’s request. Earlier, he had discovered a note in his bag explaining what he had to do. Right now, he was jumping between fallen logs and mossy dens – the teacher’s note and torchlight his only guides.

The one student not buzzing with productivity was Vex. He remained fast asleep in his tent, unaware of all the positive energy outside.

As Slugger finished plating the main course, the rest of the students banded together to set up a picnic area. They spread blankets over the grass in the clearing and laid them with cutlery and drinking cups. Using dozens of tea lights, they lit the area so it sparkled with the soft glow of quality dining. It was truly a masterpiece in design.

If the students were pleased with their picnic set-up, it was nothing compared to how they would feel about Slugger’s cuisine. The bulky chef had dished up fire-cooked chicken with honeyed carrots, buttered potatoes and lemon greens. On a large tray, he had prepared Belgian-chocolate-dipped fairy bread and garnished it with flakes of toffee-caramel. The smell was divine.

‘There’s more water in my mouth than in the river,’ said Sammy. ‘Let’s eat!’

‘Wait,’ said Victoria. ‘We need to make sure everything is perfect. Our teachers deserve the best, even if one of them can be a bit cruel at times.’

‘A bit?’ said Scarlett, who hadn’t forgotten the way Miss Frost looked at her when she first arrived at camp.

‘At times?’ said Harold.

Victoria insisted. ‘We’ve put in so much effort already. Finishing strong is just as important.’

‘Agreed,’ said Damon.

The children moved to the picnic area, taking with them the steaming plates of chicken as well as the dessert tray. Slugger quickly added slices of lime to six jugs of water and had Scarlett and Carrot place them in the centre of each blanket. Everything was in place. Everything was perfect.

‘You invite the teachers over,’ whispered Victoria, nudging Miffy. ‘It was your idea.’

‘Kindness and teamwork,’ whispered Miffy, and she cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me, Mr Bambuckle and Miss Frost, we’ve made dinner for you.’

The children straightened up, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, the proof of their hard work on display in their hands. They were framed by the tea lights, and the wide smiles on their faces paraded their pride.

Only Mr Bambuckle looked up at the happy class, his breath immediately taken away. ‘Oh my.’

Miss Frost simply snapped the folder shut and turned towards the bus. ‘I’d rather eat my own food. I’ll be staying in my car if anyone needs me.’

With a sniff, she walked away without even acknowledging the students’ efforts.

The children were hurt. The cold reality of Miss Frost’s character stung like an icicle to the heart. Mr Bambuckle knew this, and his enthusiasm soon restored their spirits. ‘This is the most astonishing dinner I have ever had the privilege of smelling.’

Slugger mustered a smile. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Just wait until you taste it.’

‘Indeed,’ said Mr Bambuckle. With that, he motioned to the blankets, knocking Carrot’s plate out of his hand. It clattered onto the ground. ‘How very careless of me, dear Carrot. I’m sincerely sorry.’

Carrot’s jaw dropped. He had never known his teacher to be clumsy. ‘I was looking forward to eating that.’

Sammy, who had been drooling impatiently, delved deep into his conscience. ‘You can share with me, Carrot.’

‘That’s very kind of you, Sammy,’ said Mr Bambuckle, ‘but as Miss Frost won’t be joining us, her plate has Carrot’s name on it. Now, let’s eat!’

The teacher, surrounded by his beloved class, sat among the tea lights and feasted on what was a truly delicious dinner. They ate and laughed and sipped lime water until their bellies ached. They recalled humorous moments from the afternoon, until satisfied yawns filled the air.

‘We’ve a big day tomorrow,’ said the teacher. ‘Miss Frost has a rather wonderful challenge planned.’

‘Brilliant,’ said Miffy, groaning. ‘Just what we need – a challenge from Miss Frost. That can’t be good.’

‘It will be difficult,’ admitted Mr Bambuckle, ‘but of your success I am most certain.’

The students cleared away their plates and stacked them in the washing tub.

‘I’ll clean them,’ volunteered Vinnie, ‘and I’m not just doing it to suck up.’

‘A most thoughtful gesture,’ said Mr Bambuckle.

The rest of the class waved their thanks to Vinnie, before disappearing one by one into their tents. Ren, as best friends do, stayed back to help wash up.

Damon, the only tent-less student, pottered happily around his sleeping-bag. ‘I get to enjoy the open sky.’

‘Goodnight, Damon,’ said the teacher. ‘Sleep tight.’