Читать книгу Amelia Fang and the Memory Thief - Laura Ellen Anderson - Страница 9

CHAPTER 3

SUBLIME

After lunch, Amelia and her friends made their way to the Coughing Classroom, in the deepest recesses of Catacomb Academy, for a brand-new lesson.

‘I WONDER WHAT OUR NEW LESSON IS?’ said Florence.

‘I hope it’s more fun than Zombie Social Studies,’ said Grimaldi.

Amelia giggled. ‘I’m excited to meet our new teacher,’ she said. ‘I heard it might be someone from Glitteropolis!’

Amelia and her friends approached the classroom, where a plump and wrinkly man with thick-rimmed glasses, a big curly moustache and huge fairy wings was waiting by the door.

‘STUDENTS!’ he smiled, his teeth shining blindingly white. ‘Come in, come in! Welcome, welcome!’

Amelia, Florence, Grimaldi and Tangine took seats at the back of the classroom, carefully avoiding any snot that the Coughing Classroom spluttered in their direction.

As Amelia looked around the Coughing Classroom, she noticed it had been adorned from top to bottom with glossy print-outs of Ravishing Recipes and pictures of the new teacher posing with various cooking instruments.

Once the class had settled down, the teacher half-skipped to the front of the classroom and threw his arms out as if he were about to invite everyone over for a great big hug.

‘Hellooooo, students of Catacomb Academy!’ he sang. ‘I am terribly delighted to be joining you all in your wonderfully dark and dismal city of Nocturnia. I’m your new cookery teacher, Mr Sublime!’

‘Oooh, cookery class!’ said Amelia and Tangine in unison.

‘HEH, SOUNDS LIKE MR SLIME,’ Florence guffawed.

‘Florence !’ Amelia whispered, half-smiling.

‘I can’t wait to share some of my favourite Glitteropolan recipes with you. We’re going to have a lot of fun making a LOT of food!’ said Mr Sublime.

Tangine’s eyes lit up and a string of dribble slipped its way down his chin. ‘Hmmmm fooooood !’ he gurgled happily.

AHEM!

‘Yes?’ said the teacher, looking round at the students expectantly for more sentiments of appreciation.

‘IT WEREN’T ANY OF US THAT MADE THAT NOISE, MR SLIME. THAT WAS THE ROOM. THAT’S WHY IT’S CALLED THE COUGHING CLASSROOM,’ explained Florence.

‘Oh, I see,’ said Mr Sublime, looking a little ill as he watched a trickle of snot slide down the back wall, between two particularly dramatically posed pictures of himself with a frying pan.

Grimaldi was trying not to laugh.

Amelia elbowed Florence in the belly. ‘You can’t call him Mr Slime!’ she whispered. ‘It’s Mr Sublime !’

Grimaldi and Florence smirked.

Recovering himself, the teacher flung his arms out wide with a flourish. ‘Well, let’s get started with your first cookery class like no other! And do you know WHY it’s like no other?’ Mr Sublime didn’t wait for anyone to answer. ‘Because it has been said by many – not myself, you understand – that I am the BEST cook you’ve ever met or are likely to meet.’

‘That’s quite a statement,’ whispered Grimaldi. ‘I always thought my Grimpapa was the best cook around . . .’

‘I think you’ll find Wooo is definitely the best!’ Amelia replied.

‘Tonight, class, we will be making my favourite recipe!’ continued Mr Sublime.

‘I wonder if it’s Boasting Buns !’ Grimaldi giggled.

‘Oh no . . . we’ll be making those next week,’ said the teacher looking straight at Grimaldi, whose deathly pale cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘This week, we’ll be making Sublime Cookies!’

‘HEH, SLIME,’ said Florence.

Tangine rolled his eyes. ‘Are you going to do that every time?’

‘YEH AND WHAT’S IT TO YOU?’ said Florence, nudging Tangine off his plinth.

‘You’ll find a copy of my recipe book It’s SUBLIME Time! on your desks. Find a partner and turn to page fifty-five for the Sublime Cookie recipe,’ said the teacher. ‘All the ingredients you need are in the cupboard at the back of the classroom.’

The sounds of spoons and spatulas clinked and clunked as the class split off into pairs and began cookie-making. Amelia paired with Tangine, who had grabbed five whisks to mix with. Florence and Grimaldi teamed up and seemed more interested in flicking ingredients into Grimaldi’s eye socket than making the cookies.

‘Stop messing around you two,’ said Amelia, as a Perfumed Pea went flying into her mixing bowl. ‘You’ll get us into trouble before we’ve even finished our first lesson! Also, what are you doing with those peas? There aren’t any Perfumed Peas in this recipe . . .’

‘SORRY,’ said Florence, getting ready to shove another Perfumed Pea up Grimaldi’s nose. ‘COOKING S’NOT REALLY MY FING . . .’

‘What?’ said Tangine, raising his eyebrows. ‘But cooking is so fun!’

‘THE EATING PART IS FUN. JUST NOT THE MAKING PART,’ said Florence.

‘Well, keep your peas to yourself,’ Amelia smiled. ‘Tangine and I actually want to cook!’

As Amelia studied the Sublime Cookie recipe, she couldn’t help giggling at the numerous pictures of Mr Sublime in a flowery apron.

‘First, we need to combine one hundred and fifty grams of Sunflower Root with two spatulas of powdered Scorpion Grass . . .’ said Amelia, reading through a list of ingredients. ‘Wow, I’ve never heard of any of these things before.’

‘That’s because they can only be found in the Fairy Forest in the Kingdom of the Light,’ said a voice next to Amelia, making her jump.

‘Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘Hello, Mr Sublime . . .’

Florence leaned over. ‘HEH, SLI—’

‘Don’t!’ interrupted Tangine, shoving a spatula in Florence’s mouth.

Grimaldi now had around fifty Perfumed Peas in his eye socket.

‘The Fairy Forest is teeming with millions of amazing and mysterious plants. Even I, an expert, couldn’t possibly know about them all !’ said Mr Sublime with a smile. ‘What’s your name, young vampire?’

‘Amelia Fang.’

Mr Sublime raised his eyebrows. ‘I believe I’ve heard of you . . .’

‘And I’m Prince Tangine!’ interjected Tangine. ‘You’ve probably most definitely heard of me, because I’m sort of famous.’

‘You’re the daughter of the Count and Countess Fang?’ said Mr Sublime, ignoring Tangine.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Amelia shyly. ‘That’s Mum and Dad.’ Amelia’s chest tightened as she remembered the argument she’d had with her mum the night before.

‘I heard your mother puts on a ravishing Barbaric Ball every year!’ said Mr Sublime. ‘I expect you’ll follow in her frightful footsteps?’

‘Hmmm, she’d love that, but I’m not really into party planning and all that stuff,’ said Amelia, feeling a little deflated. ‘I really want be a Pumpkinologist when I grow up.’

Mr Sublime leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘Well, Amelia Fang, that’s just wonderful. You remember to follow that cold vampiric heart of yours. You have a dream – don’t let anyone get in the way of that!’

Amelia felt herself smiling from ear to ear. Mr Sublime believed in her!

‘I have dreams too! You can expect HUGE things from me!’ said Tangine, throwing his arms up in the air.

‘Amelia and, er, Prince . . . Tangy, I believe you both have a sublime future ahead of you, and don’t you forget that,’ he added before wandering over to Florence and Grimaldi.

‘OH, HI MR SLIME!’ Florence bellowed. Grimaldi snorted with laughter so hard that the fifty Perfumed Peas flew out of his nostrils and into Amelia and Tangine’s mixing bowl.

‘You’ve ruined our Sublime Cookie mix!’ Amelia groaned.

‘SORRY ’BOUT THAT,’ said Florence. ‘MAY YOUR COOKIES REST IN PEAS . . .’