Alfie the Werewolf 2: Full Moon Read online

  Mum lost her patience. ‘Just check your watch! You pig-headed … elephant!’

  Dad was so startled the tea cosy fell off his head. Quickly he looked at his elephant watch.

  ‘I told you! It’s—’ For a moment his mouth hung open. ‘19 October. But that’s …’

  Mum finished the sentence for him, ‘A week later than we thought. Couldn’t you have checked your watch earlier? Now it’s too late!’

  She glared at Dad.

  ‘It’s full moon tonight. Tonight Alfie will turn into a werewolf. And he thinks it won’t happen until next week!’

  7

  Moving Day

  For a moment Tim, Mum and Dad stood deathly still at the top of the stairs, staring at each other. Then Dad ran down the stairs.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Mum shouted.

  ‘School. Try to warn Alfie.’

  He grabbed the tea cosy, pulled it back down over his head, ran out of the door in his elephant dressing gown, jumped into the car and screeched off down the road. There was a traffic light at the corner. Bad luck! It was red. Gritting his teeth, Dad stamped on the brakes and waited.

  Green.

  Just then a little old lady started to cross the road. She was very crooked and walked with a stick. Very slowly. On her head she was wearing a pink motorbike helmet.

  Nice helmet, thought Dad. Now, if she’d just walk a little bit faster. He beeped the horn as hard as he could. The light turned orange. The old lady stopped where she was, right in front of Dad’s car.

  Red.

  Come on, dear, get moving, thought Dad. The old lady raised her stick.

  Green.

  She shook it angrily.

  Amber.

  Red.

  Now the old lady started hitting the bonnet of the car. Her mouth kept opening and closing. She didn’t have any teeth any more, but it was obvious that she was saying some very nasty things.

  Green.

  Dad shrunk behind the steering wheel as the minutes crept by.

  Amber.

  Red.

  ‘Walk on, would you?’ Dad said, gnashing his teeth.

  Green.

  Finally the old lady spat on the windscreen and finished crossing the road.

  Amber.

  Red.

  Dad stamped on the accelerator and tore off. The old lady raised her bony fist.

  ‘Road hog!’ she screeched. ‘Elephant! No respect for poor old people.’ In her rage she kicked over a planter box. ‘What you looking at?’ she snarled at a passer-by, then went on her way grumbling and growling.

  Other pedestrians crossed the road to avoid her.

  Dad had already turned the corner.

  ‘I’ll still make it,’ he mumbled. ‘I know a shortcut.’

  He shot down a side street called Narrow Lane.

  ‘This will save at least five minutes,’ he said to himself, but suddenly there was a gigantic removals van in front of him, almost as wide as the street. Dad stamped on the brakes.

  The removals van stopped in front of a house and two big, burly removal men jumped out.

  ‘So,’ they said, grinning at Dad, ‘let’s start with a cuppa.’

  They went into the house and Dad took a deep breath. He couldn’t possibly get past the removals van. He’d have to back up.

  He looked in his rear-view mirror and got the shock of his life. There was another removals van behind him, just as big as the first one. Three removal men climbed out. It must have been moving day on Narrow Lane.

  Dad sighed, got out of the car and leant against it. What a nightmare. Caught between two removal vans.

  ‘This is going to take hours,’ he groaned. ‘I’ll never get there in time to warn Alfie now.’

  8

  A Strange Face

  ‘Ah! I can see Sulphur Forest in the distance already,’ Mr French said. ‘The farm we’ll be staying at for the next two nights is right next to it.’

  He was standing at the front of the coach, next to the driver. There were thirty children in the coach. Mr French taught Year 3, Alfie and Noura’s class. Sitting next to him was a woman with a rather long nose. That was Miss James, the new Year 4 teacher – Tim’s class. She was very happy to be coming on the trip. Not because she was that keen on school trips, but because she was keen on Mr French.

  Miss James peered intently through the windscreen. ‘So, children, do you see that magnificent forest? A delightful location for a school trip. We can tell horror stories round the campfire and we can experience nature at first hand on our night walk.’

  Miss James looked at Mr French out of the corner of her eye and winked. ‘That walk in the dark sounds especially cosy,’ she giggled. ‘Maybe we’ll get lost together, Roger.’

  Mr French raised an eyebrow. ‘I don’t think so, Miss James. We have a guide coming to show us around, a hunter who comes here often. He’s an expert at finding his way in the dark, so there’s very little chance of us getting lost.’

  ‘Fun!’ said Noura. ‘Will you walk next to me, Alfie? Then I’ll feel safe at least.’

  Alfie blushed and nodded. For a moment he thought of Tim, at home in bed with a temperature, but that thought disappeared when Noura smiled at him.

  ‘Stupid!’ said Rose, a girl with bleached, shoulder-length hair. ‘I don’t like going for walks in the dark. And I don’t like ghost stories either. And my father says campfires are dangerous.’

  Mr French sighed. Rose never thought anything was fun. She thought everything was stupid.

  ‘You know what, Rose? If you don’t feel like it, why don’t you just stay at the farmhouse tonight all by yourself. Then we’ll tell stupid ghost stories around a stupid campfire.’

  ‘I’m not doing that,’ Rose said. ‘I’m not going to spend the night all by myself at a stupid farm.’

  Mr French shrugged. ‘Then stop whining, Rose.’

  Rose glared ahead. ‘Stupid!’

  The coach bounced down the bumpy dirt road, giving everyone a shaking and making the luggage dance in the racks. Sleeping bags fell down into the aisle.

  ‘I’m really looking forward to that campfire,’ Noura said. ‘I hope the moon is full. That’s so beautiful.’

  ‘Do you like full moons?’ asked Alfie, surprised. ‘The next one’s not till next week.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ Noura said. ‘I thought it was tonight.’

  Alfie looked at her and turned a little red. ‘Tonight? But that’s not … are you sure?’

  Noura shrugged. ‘Not really, but we’ll see, won’t we?’ She looked at Alfie with surprise. ‘Why do you look so worried all of a sudden? Is something wrong?’

  Alfie gave a faint smile. ‘Um, no, not at all. I just hope—’

  ‘Yes,’ Miss James shouted suddenly. ‘Here it is.’

  Mr French and Miss James showed the children the dormitories. Mr French was sleeping in the boys’ dormitory. Miss James was in with the girls.

  They were sleeping in bunk beds. Alfie’s bed was next to the window. He rolled his sleeping bag out on the top bunk and looked out of the window. It was too bad Tim couldn’t come.

  He thought about what Noura had said. She must have made a mistake. There couldn’t possibly be a full moon tonight. They’d checked the week planner at home. Tim always put a cross on the days when it was full moon and Tim always looked out for him.

  Alfie sat on the top bunk deep in thought for a while longer. He was a bit worried. What if Noura was right? Then he looked up and gasped with fright.

  A face was looking in through the window. A pointy face, unshaven, with big ears, cropped hair and fierce eyes.

  And those angry eyes were staring straight at him.

  9

  The Hunter

  Alfie was so frightened he tumbled off the bed. Fortunately he was able to grab the steel edge on the way down and hang on with his feet dangling in the air.

  ‘Hey, Alfie, you doing gymnastics or what?’ Vincent asked.

  Alfie glanced si
deways at Vincent, smiled faintly, let go of the side of the bed and landed on the floor.

  ‘I just saw someone.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There was someone looking in through the window.’

  Vincent walked over to the window, but there was no one in sight. ‘Who?’

  Alfie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. A man or maybe a boy. No one I knew anyway.’

  ‘Strange,’ Vincent said. ‘Maybe we should tell Mr French.’

  ‘Ah, forget it,’ said Alfie. ‘It was just a nosy parker.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A nosy parker. You know what a nosy parker is, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, sure,’ Vincent said. ‘You coming? Everybody else is already outside.’

  The kids all went into the forest with Mr French leading the way. Miss James stayed behind at the farmhouse to make some soup. Near the farm there was a beautiful clearing.

  ‘An excellent site for a fire,’ Mr French said. ‘People have made fires here before, you can see that. And we’ll make our campfire here tonight. We’ll start looking for wood now. There are plenty of sticks and branches lying around.’

  ‘Gathering sticks? What a stupid job,’ said Rose. ‘What are we going to do with the sticks, sir?’

  Mr French gave Rose a weary look.

  He bent forward and whispered, ‘Try sticking them in your ears, Rose.’ Then he strode off.

  Alfie and Noura were searching for branches with a group of kids. Vincent, Rudi and Karen were digging a hole.

  That was where they were going to put the wood. They had already collected quite a few branches. Alfie was trying extra hard, with Noura watching.

  ‘You OK, Alfie?’ Mr French asked.

  Alfie nodded, panting and with a bright-red face. ‘I’m carrying the heavy branches for Noura,’ he said, dragging a long branch into the middle of the clearing.

  ‘Wow, you’re really strong, Alfie,’ Noura said. ‘You sure you don’t want me to help?’

  Alfie shrugged. ‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’

  Mr French chuckled. ‘This is going to be a fantastic campfire.’

  ‘As long as Rose’s ears don’t catch fire,’ said Alfie.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Mr French.

  ‘When we light the sticks.’

  Mr French thought for a moment, then gave Alfie a look of astonishment. ‘You have very sharp hearing, Alfie.’

  Alfie smiled.

  Suddenly there was a roaring noise. Sand billowed up in the distance. A motorbike was coming towards them, slipping and sliding over the track. The rider’s helmet glittered in the sun.

  ‘Ah, here comes our guide,’ Mr French said. ‘The hunter who will lead us through the forest tomorrow night.’

  ‘What kind of hunter rides a motorbike?’ Noura whispered. ‘Forests are supposed to be quiet.’

  The motorbike stopped next to the pile of firewood and the hunter got off and removed his helmet. Alfie’s whole body froze. He felt the blood rush to his face. It was the man who had chased him. The same motorbike, the same hair, the same moustache. The man sniffed and looked at Alfie. Alfie wished the ground could swallow him up. He’d had it now. The hunter would recognize him, and then … Oh, no, if only Tim was here.

  10

  Show-off

  The hunter scratched his head, then walked over to Mr French. Alfie let out a sigh. Incredible. The man hadn’t recognized him. It didn’t make any sense. He’d looked straight at him, hadn’t he?

  Oh, of course! thought Alfie. The hunter couldn’t possibly recognize him. He’d never seen him. He only saw a wolf in his chicken coop.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Noura asked quietly. ‘Do you know that man? You look like you’re scared of him.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘I scoffed one of his chickens,’ he whispered.

  ‘Huh?’ said Noura.

  ‘Scared!’ Alfie said quickly. ‘I scared one of his chickens. For no reason, just for fun, you know.’

  Noura giggled softly. ‘Scaring chickens? Do you get up to things like that? I never would have thought it.’

  The hunter held out his hand. ‘Bucket, eh?’

  ‘Er, what do you mean?’ said Mr French, surprised.

  ‘That’s my name, eh? Sam Bucket. But you can call me Hunter Sam. You’re the teacher in charge of the group I’m leading tomorrow night, eh?’

  Mr French nodded. ‘That’s right, eh? I’m Mr French, eh? I mean, um … You can call me Mr French.’

  The hunter grinned. ‘Excellent, Mr French. I hope there aren’t any scaredy-cats in your class.’

  Mr French raised an eyebrow. ‘Why’s that, Hunter Sam?’

  The hunter smoothed his moustache. ‘Well, all kinds of things wander around Sulphur Forest once it’s dark, eh?’

  ‘See?’ said Rose.

  ‘All kinds of wild animals,’ the hunter went on.

  ‘I knew it, I’m staying at the farm,’ Rose said.

  The hunter looked around and smiled. ‘Not so very long ago, for instance, there was a wolf in my henhouse, eh?’

  ‘A wolf?’ Mr French said.

  ‘That’s right, Mr Teacher, a wolf. And not a little titchy one either. It was a whopper, a big grey one, eh?’

  Alfie almost burst out laughing, but quickly clapped his hand over his mouth. What an imagination, he thought. That wolf was small and white.

  Smiling, the hunter stroked his moustache. ‘I’ve scared you now, eh?’ He looked around and puffed up his chest. ‘As long as you’re with me, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I know Sulphur Forest like my own backyard. What’s more, tomorrow I’ll be bringing my friend with me.’

  The children looked at him questioningly.

  ‘My gun, eh?’ he explained, putting on his helmet and climbing back on to his motorbike. ‘Wild animals better stay out of the forest tomorrow night, eh?’ Then he roared off.

  Mr French watched the motorbike until it disappeared from sight. ‘What a windbag,’ he mumbled. ‘What a show-off with his motorbike and his gun.’

  ‘It’s a bit sad having a gun as your best friend,’ Noura said. ‘I bet he hasn’t got any others.’

  ‘See, just what I thought, I knew as much!’ Rose shouted. ‘A school trip in a forest is dangerous! And now there’s wolves here too. I want to go home.’

  Vincent, Kevin and a few of the other boys roared with laughter.

  ‘Ha-ha, Rose would rather go to a petting zoo,’ Vincent screamed. ‘She’d be safe there.’

  ‘You don’t need to act so brave,’ Noura said. ‘What would you do if you ran into a wolf?’

  ‘Ha, I’d kick it,’ Vincent said. ‘They’re dirty, sneaky, horrible animals. Watch out, Rose. There’s a wolf in the forest and it’s going to eat you up.’

  The other children started laughing. Alfie didn’t join in. He didn’t think the joke was funny. Mr French clapped his hands angrily.

  ‘That’s enough! There’s no need to tease Rose. And Rose, there’s nothing to be scared of. There are no wolves here!’

  Just then a fearful cry sounded from the farm. Everyone turned in fright.

  ‘Miss James!’ Mr French said. ‘Quick, to the farm.’

  11

  Soup Thief

  Miss James was standing in the doorway, looking pale and holding a large soup ladle. Mr French hurried up to her.

  ‘Miss James, what’s going on here? We heard your scream from the forest.’

  Miss James had a wild expression on her face.

  ‘My soup! He ran off with my soup. He licked out the pan.’

  Mr French looked at Miss James with astonishment.

  ‘Who? What are you talking about? Who licked out the pan?’

  ‘That boy! The, the …’ Miss James didn’t know what to say, that was how furious she was. White froth spattered from her lips.

  ‘Which boy?’ Mr French asked. ‘Who was it?’

  ‘A … a scruffy lout! I walked into the kitchen and there he was with his head in the sa
ucepan. He was shocked to hear me and he looked up. A pointy face, big ears, soup all over his chin. The saucepan fell over. Half the soup ended up on the floor. He’d already slobbered up the rest.’ She waved the ladle over her head. ‘If I get hold of him, I’ll show him. I’ll box those big ears of his!’

  Suddenly she gave Mr French a look of total misery and spread her arms wide. ‘I’ve had such a fright, Roger. I need a hug.’

  Mr French took a step backwards. ‘Er, er, let’s think for a moment, Miss James. Who do you think it was?’

  ‘How would I know?’ Miss James wailed.

  Mr French quickly moved over behind Alfie and Noura.

  ‘Maybe a tramp,’ Noura said. ‘Someone who hasn’t had a thing to eat for days. Someone who’s alone and miserable and starving.’

  ‘Alone and miserable?’ whispered Miss James. ‘What about me? I can’t even get a hug.’

  But nobody was listening to her. Vincent started laughing and nudged Rudi and Ahmed.

  ‘There goes Noura again,’ he jeered. ‘We’re supposed to feel sorry for the soup thief.’

  Alfie scratched his head. ‘I think I saw him, sir.’

  ‘Who? The soup thief?’

  Alfie nodded. ‘When I was sitting on my bed in the dormitory, he peeped in through the window.’

  ‘Oh, the nosy parker?’ said Vincent, who had stopped laughing.

  ‘Yeah, him,’ Alfie said.

  A few of the children gasped in fright.

  ‘See,’ said Rose. ‘I knew it! As if things weren’t bad enough already. Now we’ve got a soup-stealing peeper! I think we should go home right away. This school trip is going to be one big disaster. All the signs are pointing that way. No one wants to wake up tomorrow in a blood-soaked bed.’ Rose stopped talking and looked around with a serious expression. ‘If they wake up at all!’

  The other children gaped at her.

  ‘Come off it,’ Mr French blurted, ‘a hungry tramp licks out our soup pot. It’s annoying. But you don’t need to turn it into a story full of mayhem and murder! We’ll save those stories for around the campfire,’ he added quietly.