Miss Pewlish crossed her hands over the desk.
‘So,’ she said. ‘One of you might as well tell me how it happened.’
We sat before her in grim silence. We had only just arrived back from the zoo. Orlaith and Pete were still tied at the wrist. Ceri was smeared grey with dust and moulting bear fur. Callum and I guiltily twiddled our thumbs. No one spoke.
‘Anyone?’ said Miss Pewlish.
We looked at each other in despair. In the chaos that had followed the bear incident, not one of us had thought to organise a cover story. There was no way we’d be able to make up an explanation now, without the risk of one of us slipping up and giving away the truth about the Tornado Chasers. And if anyone found out about that … well, we really were done for.
Miss Pewlish sighed, and shook her head.
‘Never,’ she said, her voice taut with anger, ‘in all my years as School Safety Officer, have I ever come across such reckless or dangerous behaviour. On a school trip. During an SW5!’ She slammed her hands on the tabletop, making us jump. ‘You do realise that a tornado could have landed today, don’t you?’
We cringed.
‘You leave me no choice,’ she muttered. ‘With the power invested in me as School Safety Officer, I’m suspending all five of you – for the rest of the year. Your parents will be informed immediately.’
My stomach heaved.
‘N-no,’ I managed to croak. ‘Not my parents!’
Miss Pewlish nodded sadly. ‘Yes, Owen. And what’s more, this incident will be recorded on all of your permanent files.’
Orlaith suddenly leapt from her seat.
‘You … you can’t,’ she cried, her face desperate. ‘I’m supposed to be going to the Valley Academy next year! They’ll never take me with a suspension on my record!’
Miss Pewlish smiled coldly. ‘I’m afraid that’s not my problem, Miss Reade. As School Safety Officer, I have a duty to uphold the Storm Laws which all five of you violated today.’
Ceri suddenly looked up, her eyes glimmering.
‘We did?’ she said. ‘Which ones?’
Miss Pewlish’s lip thinned. She heaved a giant book from under the desk and slammed it open on the table, jabbing a finger onto the page.
‘Inciting public disorder,’ she read. ‘Endangering personal safety. Improper use of bears … I could go on. And in an SW5 all Storm Laws – no matter how small – must be upheld.’
Ceri looked delighted. ‘Really? All of them?’
Miss Pewlish glared at her stonily. ‘Yes, Ceri! All of them!’
‘Including Storm Law IX.ii?’ said Ceri. ‘The one that says a teacher on an outdoors field trip should be with her class at all times, and not buying a cappuccino from the zoo cafe?’
Miss Pewlish’s face fell. ‘I … I beg your pardon?’
Ceri stood up and leant over the desk, pointing at the book in front of her.
‘It’s just there, Miss Pewlish. Storm Law IX.ii: Elected adults must take full responsibility for the children placed in their care at all times. That elected adult would be … you, in this case. Which means that sneaking off to grab a frothy coffee when on a school trip violates a Storm Law, too.’
Miss Pewlish fumbled.
‘That’s … beside the point,’ she muttered. ‘Several children saw the five of you arguing before convincing Ceri to climb inside that enclosure. And unless one of you has a very good explanation for that …’
‘Abandonment!’ I suddenly cried, leaping to my feet.
Everyone turned to look at me. I cleared my throat. I had to admit that I didn’t really know what I was doing.
‘I … I saw what happened to Ceri beside the bear enclosure,’ I said. ‘When you left, Miss Pewlish, she almost lost her mind with fear! She kept saying, over and over again, “When is Miss Pewlish coming back? Why has she left us here unsupervised during a school trip?”’
Orlaith’s eyes widened with realisation. She jumped to her feet.
‘That’s right!’ she cried. ‘She went mad, Miss Pewlish! And she kept threatening to climb into the pen – because … because …’
Callum stood up. ‘Because she thought she’d seen a grown-up in there! I bravely tried to stop her, of course, but in the heat of the moment she slipped into the pen …’
‘… where I mistook the sleeping bear for a chaperone!’ Ceri cried. She folded her arms. ‘Not that you would have seen any of that, Miss Pewlish – seeing as you were busy buying yourself a cappuccino when it all happened …’
‘With a hazelnut shot.’
We glanced beside us. Pete had stood up, and leant across the desk at Miss Pewlish.
‘I could smell it.’
Miss Pewlish fumbled nervously behind her desk, her eyes darting between us.
‘You … you can’t prove anything,’ she muttered.
Orlaith blinked innocently. ‘Really? We could always check the cameras at the zoo cafe. That is … if we have to.’
We stood in a line, staring at Miss Pewlish. Her eyes flicked between us. She swallowed dryly. Then, out of nowhere, a beaming smile emerged on her face.
‘Well, children,’ she said brightly. ‘In that case, maybe we should just forget about what happened today. I’m sure it’s all just been a terrible misunderstanding. Nothing to bother the school safety board with. Don’t you agree?’
We all nodded. Miss Pewlish’s smile suddenly disappeared, and was replaced with a glare that would blacken stone.
‘Now get out of my sight,’ she spat.
We scurried towards the door, gazing at each other in dizzy disbelief. We had just achieved the unthinkable. Together, the five of us had fought Miss Pewlish and the Storm Laws, and we had won. We weren’t just a bunch of frightened schoolchildren any more.
We were the Tornado Chasers.