It was the last week of term before the summer holidays and there was a relaxed, almost lazy, feeling in the air amongst both the pupils and the teachers at Dundoodle School. The fact that Unquiet Night was not far away added to the convivial atmosphere. Gingerbread Dragons and Witchberry Buns were common breaktime snacks, and the children argued over how many sprite heads they would catch in ‘Bite the head off a Water Sprite’, which Archie discovered was what the Dundoodlers called the game of apple-bobbing. There was talk of what costumes everyone was making, and how many sweets they might collect on the Wyrdie Walk.

Archie found the mood infectious. Unquiet Night loomed nearer and nearer, without any progress in any of their investigations. It wasn’t that Archie didn’t want to do anything, he just couldn’t seem to summon the energy. Every day he woke up determined to take the matter seriously, but immediately the sense of dread that he now associated with the Mirk fell like a weight upon his shoulders. The less he thought about the Wyrdie Tree, the less the feeling troubled him, and so he pushed the problem to the back of his mind. Billy and Fliss could only nag, and grind their teeth in frustration.

‘Why me?’ Archie said, for the hundredth time, as they sat in class that Friday afternoon, the last day of school.

‘Because … you’re a McBudge!’ said Fliss, who was getting a bit shrill in her exasperation. ‘It’s what you do!’

‘Quieten down, Felicity Fairbairn!’ called their teacher, Miss McTwang, who was a world champion in being shrill. ‘Now, class, for the last half-hour of the day, we’re going to have a lovely treat.’ A murmur of cautious interest passed through the classroom: the children knew that teachers often had a very different idea of what made for a ‘lovely treat’ than they did. ‘We have a local businessman coming to speak on an important topic.’

‘Is it Archie McBudge, Miss?’ said Ewan Fothergill, a spotty, sandy-haired boy, which got a laugh from the others, even from Archie himself.

‘No,’ said Miss McTwang, opening the classroom door. ‘In fact, quite the opposite. Do come in, Mr Preen.’

To Archie’s horror, the sinister dentist walked rigidly into the room, carrying a large, cardboard box. Archie had completely forgotten about him! Preen looked as polished as ever, smoothing his black hair down and flashing a cold, perfect smile at Miss McTwang, whose ears turned an alarming shade of pink.

‘Good afternoon, everyone, ha ha!’ said Mr Preen, surveying the rows of children like a shark sizing up a shoal of fish. ‘What a fine example of today’s youth I see before me.’ His smile deepened the moment he spotted Archie. ‘Some of you may already know me and know the cause for which I stand. I am here to talk about making the town of Dundoodle nice. That is, N.I.C.E., ha ha.’

Archie groaned. He didn’t like the sound of this.

‘No doubt you are all looking forward to your summer holiday,’ continued Edward Preen. ‘Such fun you shall have, ha ha … But I hear Dundoodle holds a festival soon, this Unquiet Night.’ Mr Preen spoke the words as if they left a bad taste in his mouth. ‘Girls and boys, I’m afraid Unquiet Night fills me with, well, unquiet, ha ha.

‘A festival celebrating monsters and spooks. Silly, foolish things. Things to frighten babies, ha ha. And we are not babies, are we?’

The class looked confused. No, they weren’t babies …

‘And dancing and music and other noisy foolishness. It’s a silly, foolish festival. It is not N.I.C.E. at all. In fact, I think it is very naughty. And why do I think that? Tell me, what do you eat during this festival?’

‘Skeleton Scones!’ called Flora Twigg.

‘Coffin Cakes!’ said Nasim Hamdi.

‘Gingerbread Dragons!’ shouted out Ewan Fothergill, who let out a monstrous snarl. There were cheers and some laughter. Mr Preen visibly twitched.

‘Dreadful things. Not only superstitious nonsense, but full of fat and sugar, and ginger, a spice that elevates the body temperature most perilously. They do not belong in your young digestive systems, oh no. They belong in the bin, ha ha! What else?’

‘Sweets?’ said Heather McGumble uncertainly. No one was sure where this was going.

‘Of course, sweeties. Little jewels of sugary poison, rotting your teeth away. Of no benefit to you whatsoever. Or at least, of no benefit to you, but lots of benefit to others. Others who make money from making and selling sweeties, ha ha.’

Everyone turned to look at Archie. Archie squirmed uncomfortably. There was doubt and suspicion in their eyes. Were they beginning to believe Edward Preen?

‘Unquiet Night is about fun!’ he blurted out, jumping up from his chair. ‘And so are the sweets and the Gingerbread Dragons and all the other things that go on. You don’t care about healthy things, you just want to spoil the fun for everyone!’

‘Now, now, Archie,’ said Miss McTwang. ‘Sit down, please. I’m sure Mr Preen is thinking of the good of the community.’

‘How true, dear lady,’ smirked the dentist. ‘Indeed, young Mr McBudge is quite wrong, ha ha. For I have gone to the effort of creating a tasty, healthy snack to replace the teeth-rotting, sugary poison.’ He opened the cardboard box, which was full of bright-white rectangular packages. ‘I present to you the Preen Safer Wafer, a hygienic and cleansing chewy biscuit. It cleans your teeth whilst you eat! Each wrapper is even decorated with a little bow of dental floss. And I am giving one away to every pupil at Dundoodle School, for free. You see, I am not anti-fun, ha ha.’

‘And I’m sure we’re all very grateful,’ purred Miss McTwang. ‘Aren’t we, children? I’ve already tried the Preen Safer Wafer and found it quite delicious! Now, it will soon be time to go home, so form a queue for your wafer. I have a bin ready for Gingerbread Dragons and any other sugary rubbish.’

There was some muttering, but the children went along with it. Some even seemed to be enthusiastic about Preen’s Safer Wafer and said they had already tried it. Archie glowered at the dentist as he took his freebie, but the man just smiled triumphantly at him.

Outside the school gates, Archie was horrified to find Fliss and Billy about to tuck into the abominable Wafer.

‘What are you doing?’ he yelled.

‘So you do care about something, Archie McBudge!’ said Fliss. ‘I was beginning to wonder.’ She stuffed the biscuit into her mouth defiantly.

‘It looks like cardboard,’ said Archie, throwing his wafer straight into a rubbish bin. Fliss was deliberately trying to annoy him, and it was working.

‘It’s definitely chewy,’ she said, trying to sound positive but making a face like she was eating a wasp sandwich. ‘If a little bitter in taste.’

‘It’s worse than that,’ said Billy in disgust, spitting out the wafer without even swallowing it. ‘It’s wholesome! To think, he wants us to eat these instead of sweets. What’s next? Soap chocolate bars and toothpaste cookies? And he’s wrong about ginger being bad for you. It was used in olden days in medicine and potions and things – it says so in The Book of Herb-lore in Archie’s library.’

‘But I wonder if Preen has a point,’ said Fliss, as she gulped the last bit of wafer down. ‘About Unquiet Night just being a reason to sell sweets. People are always saying how Valentine’s Day was invented by greetings-card makers and florists.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re falling for his nonsense!’ said Archie furiously.

‘I’m just saying, you can’t argue with his logic. Maybe Unquiet Night isn’t good for us. And I’ve gone off Gingerbread Dragons, I must admit. Maybe I’ve eaten too many. This wafer could be a nice change.’

‘Whose side are you on, Fliss?’ Archie spluttered.

Before she could reply, Billy thrust the Safer Wafer’s wrapper under their noses.

‘At least we know whose side Edward Preen’s on,’ he said. ‘Look what this says.’

Printed quite clearly on the back of the wrapper were the words:

Made by the Puddingham-Pye Cookie Company