Pants!

  For Lynsey and Paul ~ D R

  For Philip, old friendships are the best ~ A M

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Pants!

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  2 Fame!

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  3 Poop!

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  It was Thursday morning at the swimming pool. Bertie was getting changed after the lesson with Miss Crawl. His clothes lay scattered on the cubicle floor.

  “HA! HA! I CAN SEE YOUR PANTS!” jeered a loud voice.

  Bertie snatched up his towel. “Who said that?”

  “BERTIE’S WEARING BLUE ONES!” taunted the sing-song voice.

  Bertie looked up. Two mocking eyes leered at him over the cubicle wall. It was his sworn enemy, Know-All Nick.

  “Get lost!” said Bertie, throwing a sock at him.

  Nick stuck out his tongue. “Make me, slowcoach!”

  “Who are you calling a slowcoach?” Bertie demanded.

  “You. You’re always last to get changed,” sneered Nick.

  Bertie narrowed his eyes. “I bet I can get changed a lot quicker than you.”

  “Oh yeah?” said Nick.

  “Yeah!” said Bertie.

  “All right,” said Nick. “Let’s have a race.”

  Bertie could never resist a race, especially if it meant a chance to beat big-headed Nick.

  “Suits me,” he said. “Last one back on the coach has to sit next to Miss Boot.”

  Nick considered it. A smile spread slowly across his smug face.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “Last one on the coach has to come to school tomorrow in their pants.”

  Bertie’s jaw dropped.

  “What’s the matter, slowcoach, scared you’re going to lose?” sneered Nick.

  Bertie glared back. “Not a chance.”

  “OK, shake on it,” said Nick. Bertie climbed on the bench and the two of them shook hands.

  Bertie smiled. He would show that slimy slug who was slow. Nick wouldn’t see him for dust. Wait till he told his friends about this: Know-All Nick coming to school in his pants – now that would be funny!

  “Ready?” said Nick, through the wall. “Go!”

  Bertie grabbed his trousers and yanked them on. His fingers wrestled with his shirt buttons. Socks next.

  Where was his other sock? He wasted precious seconds hunting around the floor on his hands and knees. Who needed two socks anyway? One was plenty. He jammed on his shoes, his jumper, his coat. He stuffed his soggy trunks and towel into his bag and burst out of the cubicle.

  “ARGH!” Bertie tripped over a mop and bucket that someone had left outside the door.

  In seconds he was back on his feet and racing down the corridor. “Gangway!” he yelled, barging between Donna and Pamela. “Sorry! Emergency! Can’t stop!”

  Eugene flattened himself against the wall as Hurricane Bertie tore past. But turning the corner, a gigantic shadow fell across his path. “BERTIE!” thundered Miss Boot. “No running in the corridor!”

  “But Miss, I—”

  “Walk don’t run, Bertie. WALK!”

  Bertie groaned. He slowed to a walk as Miss Boot watched him like a hawk to the front door. Once outside, he flew down the steps, taking them three at a time. The coach was waiting in the car park. Almost there! Bertie dived through the door and flung himself into a seat.

  “Yessss! I made it!” he panted. “I’m the first one back!”

  “What took you so long, slowcoach?” drawled a jeering voice. Bertie gasped. No, it couldn’t be! It wasn’t possible! Know-All Nick lounged on the back seat. His hair was combed, his tie perfectly knotted and he wasn’t the slightest bit out of breath.

  “Tough luck, Bertie, you lose!” He smirked. “I am so looking forward to you coming to school tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Bertie sat in gloomy silence as the coach drove back to school. Darren pushed a bag of crisps under his nose. “Want one?”

  Bertie shook his head.

  “Are you ill?” asked Darren.

  “Shhh!” said Bertie. “I’m trying to think.”

  “What about?” Darren munched his crisps noisily.

  Bertie sighed. “If I tell you, you’ve got to promise you won’t breathe a word.”

  Darren leaned closer. “OK.”

  Bertie looked around to check that no one could hear. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I bet Nick I could beat him back to the coach after swimming.”

  “And?” said Darren.

  “And I lost the bet. Now I’ve got to come to school tomorrow in my pants.”

  Darren grinned with delight. “In your pants? HA HA HA!”

  “Shut up!” hissed Bertie.

  “No … but seriously…” giggled Darren, “…in your pants? Hee hee!”

  “Keep your voice down!” pleaded Bertie.

  “I can’t help it. That’s so funny,” chortled Darren.

  Eugene turned round from the seat in front. “What’s so funny?”

  “Bertie’s going to come to school in his pants,” said Darren. “For a bet!”

  Eugene stared at Bertie. “You’re not?”

  “No!” said Bertie, turning crimson. He was starting to wish he’d never mentioned it.

  “But – in your pants?”

  “Stop saying it!” cried Bertie. “You’re meant to be my friends. You’re meant to help me!”

  Darren crunched another crisp. “It’s not our fault,” he said. “You made the bet. What can we do?”

  Bertie thought about it.

  “I know,” he said. “Do it with me!”

  “What?” said Darren.

  “Come to school in your pants,” said Bertie, desperately. “We’ll all do it, together. It’ll be brilliant! Why don’t we?”

  Darren and Eugene stared at him.

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” said Darren. “There’s no way anyone’s going to see my pants.”

  “Eugene!” pleaded Bertie. “You’ll do it, won’t you?”

  Eugene shook his head. “Sorry, Bertie. I don’t think my mum would let me.”

  Bertie slumped back in his seat and stared out the window, miserably. So much for friends. He was on his own.

  Back in class, Bertie racked his brains. What was he going to do? Why oh why had he let Nick trick him into that stupid bet? He was certain that two-faced toad must have cheated. He was probably wearing half his clothes before the race even started.

  In any case there was no going back now. A bet was a bet and he’d shaken on it. He tried to imagine walking into school wearing nothing but his pants. It didn’t bear thinking about. People would be laughing at him for the next billion years.

  No, he’d just have to think of some way out.

  BRIIIING! The bell sounded for break. Bertie trudged out to the playground, lost in thought.

  “Hee hee! There he is!”

  Bertie turned round to see Angela Nicely and two of her little friends. Angela lived next door to Bertie. She was six years old and had been in love with Bertie ever since the time he gave her a sherbet lemon to stop her talking.

  “What do you want?” glared Bertie.

  “Hee hee! We want to … hee hee! … ask you something!” giggled Angela.

  “Not now,” said Bertie. “I’m busy!” He walked faster but Angela kept up with him.

  “What colour are they, Bertie?” she simpered.

  “Eh?” said Bertie.

  �
��White or pink?” giggled Laura.

  “Frilly or spotty?” sniggered Yasmin.

  Bertie swung round to face them. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your pants!” squealed Angela. “Nicholas told us. You’re coming to school in your pants tomorrow!”

  The girls burst into a fresh fit of giggles.

  Bertie turned a deep shade of pink. “I … I’m not!” he stammered.

  “Yes you are,” said Angela. “Everybody says so.”

  “Listen! It’s rubbish! I’m not!” said Bertie, desperately.

  Angela edged closer to him, smiling sweetly. “I’m going to bring my camera, Bertie,” she trilled. “I’m going to take a picture of you in your…”

  Bertie didn’t wait to hear any more. He turned and fled.

  He hid in the cloakroom, till he was sure they had gone. This was worse than he’d ever imagined. Darren and Eugene knew. So did Angela and her friends. By now the news would be round the whole school. He should have guessed that big-mouth Nick would tell everyone. Tomorrow they’d all be waiting for him – whispering and sniggering. If only he could think of some way out. Bertie considered himself a master of clever plots and cunning plans, but this time his mind was blank. It was no use. He wished he was a worm so he could crawl into a hole and hide.

  CHAPTER 3

  “BERTIE!” boomed Miss Skinner in assembly. “Out to the front, now!”

  “Me, Miss?” said Bertie.

  “Yes, you. And make it snappy, I haven’t got all day!”

  Bertie gulped and dragged himself out to the front. Why was everyone staring at him and sniggering?

  “Haven’t you forgotten something, Bertie?” said Miss Skinner.

  Bertie looked down. He gasped. He was wearing nothing but his pants.

  “ARGHHHHH!” he screamed – and woke up. He breathed a sigh of relief and sank back on his pillow. Thank goodness, it was only a nightmare. But wait – what was today? Friday! Pants Day! It wasn’t a nightmare after all, it was really happening!

  There was a knock on the door. Mum came in. “Aren’t you up yet, Bertie? It’s time for school.”

  “Urrrhh!” groaned Bertie. “I don’t feel well. I think I’ve got Germy Measles.”

  Mum felt his head. “Hmm,” she said. “I can’t see any spots.”

  “I think they’re invisible!” he mumbled.

  “Don’t be silly, Bertie. There’s no such thing.”

  “How do you know?” said Bertie. “If they’re invisible they could be all over me! I could be dying of them! I could—”

  “Get dressed!” said Mum. “You’re going to school.”

  Bertie flopped out of bed. He pulled out his drawer and looked inside. All of his pants were teeny-weeny. What he needed was extra-large pants to cover as much of him as possible. Wait a moment – his dad had lots of pairs of pants. Big pants. Surely he could borrow a pair?

  Bertie tiptoed into his parents’ room. He pulled open a drawer and dumped piles of pants on to the floor. Right at the bottom he found what he was looking for. A large pair of blue Y-fronts.

  Bertie tried them on and looked in the mirror. They looked absurdly big, but they were the best he could find.

  Mum and Suzy were eating breakfast in the kitchen. Bertie tried to sneak past them and reach his chair.

  “HA! HA!” shrieked Suzy, catching sight of him.

  “What?” said Bertie. “They’re only pants.”

  Mum stared at him. “Good heavens, Bertie! Where are your clothes? And whose pants are those?”

  “Dad’s. I just need to borrow them!” said Bertie.

  “Ha ha! Hee hee!” wheezed Suzy. “You should see yourself!”

  “They’re way too big,” said Mum. “You’ve got plenty of pants of your own.”

  “Not like these. I need a really big pair!”

  “Whatever for?”

  “For a bet. I said I’d go to school in my pants!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Bertie. You can’t possibly!” said Mum.

  Bertie blinked. A wave of relief swept over him. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He had promised to go to school in his pants and he would.

  “Never mind!” he laughed. “It’s OK. Everything’s OK!”

  He danced out of the kitchen and back upstairs wearing the pants on his head.

  CHAPTER 4

  Know-All Nick stood on the wall, keeping watch along the street. It was ten to nine and the playground was full to bursting. Everyone had come early to be sure of seeing Bertie’s big moment. Angela Nicely had her camera at the ready. Darren, Donna and Eugene were arguing about whether Bertie would actually go through with it. Darren said yes. Donna said no. Eugene couldn’t make up his mind.

  “Here he comes!” shouted Nick, pointing up the road.

  They all watched the entrance, eagerly. Bertie rounded the corner and marched in through the gates. Know-All Nick stared in disbelief. Bertie was dressed as normal in his jumper and jeans.

  Nick jumped down from the wall and marched up to him.

  “We had a bet!” he fumed. “You cheated! You had to come to school in your pants!”

  Bertie shrugged. “I have. I’m wearing them. Under my trousers.”

  “Wh … wh … what?” stammered Nick, turning pale.

  “What’s the matter, Nick?” asked Bertie. “Don’t you wear pants under your trousers?”

  “Of course I do,” snapped Nick.

  Bertie winked at Darren. “That’s not what I heard. I heard you don’t wear pants.”

  “No,” grinned Darren. “None at all.”

  “I do!” protested Nick.

  “I heard you went knickerless. Knickerless Nick,” said Bertie.

  “It’s not true!” wailed Nick.

  “But how do we know?” said Bertie.

  “Because I say so!”

  “You might be lying.”

  “I’M NOT!” yelled Nick. “LOOK!” He pulled down his trousers to prove it.

  SNAP! went Angela’s camera. Nick turned crimson. The whole school could see his pants and they were all laughing.

  “I’ll get you for this, Bertie!” he yelled.

  CHAPTER 1

  Bertie flung open the door and burst into the kitchen.

  “I’d do anyfing for you, dear, anyfing! ’Cos you mean everyfing to meeeeee!” he sang in his gruff, droning voice.

  Suzy groaned. Dad covered his ears.

  “Lovely, Bertie,” said Mum. “But maybe not quite so loud.”

  “Miss Boot says you should sing out,” said Bertie. “I was singing out.”

  “We heard you,” said Dad. He glanced at his watch. “We’d better go or we’ll be late for the audition.”

  “Good luck, Bertie,” said Mum. “Just do your best. And try not to cause any trouble.”

  Bertie trooped out to the car. He didn’t see what trouble you could cause just by singing. He had been looking forward to the audition ever since he’d heard his parents talking about it. Bertie’s dad belonged to the Pudsley Players and every year the Players put on a show at the local theatre. This year they were doing the musical, Oliver! Bertie had seen Oliver! on TV. It was about an orphan called Oliver who goes round asking people for more and ends up rich. When his dad said they were looking for children to join the cast, Bertie had jumped at the chance. He practised his singing as they drove to the theatre.

  “I’d do anyfing…” he droned.

  “Bertie!” sighed Dad.

  “What? I’m only singing.”

  “Well don’t! You’ll cause an accident. And at least try to keep to the tune.”

  “I am keeping to the tune!” said Bertie. “That’s how it goes… ‘I’d do ANYFING…!’”

  “BERTIE!” shouted Dad, gripping the steering wheel.

  Bertie lapsed into silence. The trouble with some people, he thought, was they just didn’t appreciate good singing.

  At the theatre he found the dressing room crowded with eager children waiting
to be called on stage. Bertie elbowed his way through the crowd and found an empty seat next to a pale boy wearing a large brown cap. It was only when the boy looked up and scowled that he recognized his old enemy, Know-All Nick.

  “What are you doing here?” sneered Nick.

  “What are you doing here?” replied Bertie.

  “If you must know I’m going to be in the play,” boasted Nick.

  “Well so am I,” said Bertie.

  “Huh!” scoffed Nick. “They’re not that desperate. Anyway, Miss Lavish only wants five boys. You don’t stand a chance.”

  “Who’s Miss Lavish?” asked Bertie.

  “Don’t you know? She’s the director.” Nick removed his cap and smoothed back his hair. “Anyway which part do you want?”

  “The Artful Dodger,” said Bertie.

  Nick snorted. “Sorry, that part’s taken. I’m going to be Dodger.”

  “Liar,” said Bertie. “She hasn’t even heard you sing yet.”

  Nick gave him a smug look. “That’s what you think.”

  A woman with a clipboard poked her head around the door.

  “Nicholas?” she said. “Miss Lavish is ready for you now.”

  Know-All Nick pulled on his cap and went to the door. “Oh by the way, Bertie,” he said. “Miss Lavish has heard me sing lots of times. She’s my godmother.” He stuck out his tongue and vanished through the door.

  CHAPTER 2

  Bertie sat in the dressing room waiting to be called. He would show that sneaky slimeball, Nick. His audition would be so good Miss Lavish would fall on her knees and beg him to play the Artful Dodger. The room started to empty slowly as, one by one, the other children were called on stage. An hour went by. Bertie was the only one left in the dressing room.