The whole school was standing in the playground. By the whole school I mean every single pupil. And by standing in the playground I mean standing at one end of the playground. At the other were the teachers. In the middle was Mr Carter. With a referee’s whistle round his neck.

“Right!” shouted Mr Carter. “It’s time to play … British Bulldog!”

“Oh dear,” said Mrs Wang.

“I thought it might be,” said Miss Finch.

“Hooray!” said Miss Gerard, and fell over.

“Teachers versus pupils, obviously!” shouted Mr Carter.

The teachers – who were severely outnumbered – gulped.

“You know the rules! Each side has to get as many people to the other end as possible! And each side has to try to stop the other side doing that! By any means NECESSARY!”

“Excuse me,” said Mr Barrington.

“Yes, Bu—”

“Don’t call me Bummington! Please!”

“Oh, OK.”

“Is that fair, sir? There are a lot more of them.”

“Yes, but you’re bigger.”

“Well …” said Mr Barrington uncertainly, looking over at the older children, some of whom were stretching and limbering up in anticipation. “I don’t know about that.”

“The Gruffalo certainly is.”

“Who’s he talking about?” said Miss Finch.

“But hey!” said Mr Carter. “I’ve thought about that. I’ve come up with a way of making this game of British Bulldog a bit different! Which might help!”

He put the silver whistle hanging round his neck in his mouth and blew loudly. At which point, Scarlet and Stirling suddenly appeared, one on each side of the playground. Stirling stood in front of the teachers holding a box. Scarlet stood in front of the children with a similar box.

“iBabies – I mean Scarlet! Stirling! Thank you for your help! Now, here’s how this works. When the boxes are open, something will come out of each one. That thing is your captain: your leader. No one is allowed to go further ahead than that thing. All team members must stay behind the thing. OK?”

Everyone – teachers and pupils – frowned. But Mr Carter raised his arm.

“The game begins on the whistle, at which point Scarlet and Stirling will open their boxes. So …!”

He blew hard on his whistle.

Stirling opened his box. Out of which came Benny the tortoise. Scarlet opened her box. Out of which came Bjornita the tortoise.

Benny stood still. Bjornita stuck her long neck out, looked around and very, very slowly moved forward.

“Come on, teams!” shouted Mr Carter. “Go for it! British Tortoise!”

“Go for what?” shouted Ellie Stone.

“Follow your captain! In fact, make like your captain!”

With that, Mr Carter started doing an impression of a tortoise. He bent over low, stuck both his arms out crookedly and moved in slow motion while sticking his head up and looking around as if for pieces of manky lettuce.

Everyone looked on, amazed. It was, it has to be said, not an action most people – pupils and teachers – would have found in the How to Be a Head Teacher handbook. If such a book exists.

“Come on!” he shouted in a deep, croaky voice, meant, one would have to assume, to be tortoise-like.

And gradually the children – Barry Bennett, Jake, Lukas and Taj, Ellie and Fred Stone, Isla and Morris Fawcett, Scarlet and Stirling, and Malcolm Bailey (who seemed, for some reason, particularly good at it) – all started to copy him and walk like a tortoise.

“Come on, teachers! Hey!” said Mr Carter, now on all fours. “Tortoise towards the other side! Or you’ll lose!”

Mr Barrington looked at Miss Finch, who looked at Miss Gerard, who looked at Mrs Wang, who shrugged, put her face down, stuck her crutches out and started tortoising behind Bjornita towards the tortoising children. It worked well, actually, because tortoises move a little bit like they are on crutches all the time.