The Midnight Gang Read online

  None shall sleep!

  None shall sleep!

  Even you, O Princess,

  In your cold room,

  Watch the stars,

  That tremble with love and hope.

  The words could have been written about Sally. It was a fittingly majestic piece of music to accompany the next few minutes, which would represent a lifetime.

  From her bed, Sally watched with wonder as the children worked around her in the operating theatre. Robin was standing at the back of the room with a slide projector. As he heard his beloved opera aria begin, he flicked a switch on the projector and the machine whirred into life. The first slide was projected on to the wall of the operating theatre right in front of Sally.

  It read: EXAM RESULTS.

  Sally giggled. “Oh no!”

  Then Tom placed a square black hat on Sally’s head that had been made from a cereal box. Next he handed her a rolled-up piece of paper in a red bow. Sally unrolled the “exam certificate” to see to her delight that she had received A*s in every subject imaginable.

  “Yes!” she said. “I always knew I was a genius! It’s just no one else knows it yet!”

  Then Robin pressed the button for the next slide: FIRST CAR.

  The porter gave Tom a dinner plate to pass to Sally. It had been drawn on with a black felt-tip pen to make it look like a steering wheel. The words “Aston Martin”, the famous luxury-car manufacturer, had been written on it. Then the pair started spinning Sally’s bed around as the girl pretended to drive. To add to the sense of speed, George ran in the opposite direction past Sally’s bed holding small fake, plastic Christmas trees.

  Then came: FIRST KISS.

  The porter then handed Tom a bunch of flowers and pushed him towards Sally. The boy bristled at the thought, so he passed on the flowers to George. George obviously wasn’t a fan of kissing either, as he passed the flowers on to Amber. Amber took charge, and ordered Tom to wheel her towards Sally. Then she handed her friend the flowers and gave her a peck on the cheek.

  As this chapter of Sally’s life ended, another began: A HOLIDAY IN THE SUN.

  The porter produced two dining trays that George and Tom strapped to Sally’s feet with string. Then the porter handed the girl a piece of rope with a handle at the end. At first Sally looked completely mystified about what was happening. The other end of the rope was attached to Amber’s wheelchair. Then the porter pushed the wheelchair forward, which pulled Sally upright on to the trays.

  She was water-skiing!

  Sally laughed at the cleverness of it all.

  Next was: WEDDING DAY.

  As Sally sat back down on her bed, Tom placed a bridal veil on her head. The veil had been made out of boxes and boxes of white tissues. George handed Sally back the bunch of flowers and instantly the girl looked like a bride on her wedding day.

  Next the porter produced a black top hat that was really a bucket. This was for the groom. But who was going to marry Sally tonight?

  The porter put the hat on Tom’s head, who put it on George’s head, who put it on Robin’s head, who had no one’s head to put it on.

  “What is going on?” asked Robin.

  “You are gettin’ married,” said George.

  “To a girl?” asked the boy.

  “Yes!”

  “That’s never going to happen!” replied Robin. He took off his hat and passed it back to George, who put it on Amber’s head.

  “It looks like you are marrying Amber,” said the porter.

  “I would love to!” replied Sally.

  The porter then handed Amber a large metal ring, which she placed on Sally’s finger. Despite it not being gold and too big and clearly from a shower curtain, a tear rolled down Sally’s cheek. The wedding might not have been real, but the feeling was. Tom and George had bags of rice that they threw over the happy couple. The porter flicked the lights on and off to mimic a camera’s flash. It was the perfect wedding shot.

  “Tell me what you can see!” called out Robin eagerly.

  “Sally is crying,” replied Tom.

  “Happy tears or sad tears?”

  “Happy!” cried Sally, wiping them away.

  Robin smiled and pressed the button for the next chapter: BABY.

  At seeing this word, Sally began to giggle. How were they going to conjure up a baby? Surely they hadn’t “borrowed” one from the maternity ward?! George put on a nurse’s hat and handed the girl a bundle wrapped up in a blanket. Sally felt the bundle move and opened it out to reveal Professor Pigeon under there. The bird was wearing a little baby’s bonnet fashioned from a rubber surgical glove. On seeing the bird’s face she smiled, and she stroked its head tenderly. It cooed.

  Then the Midnight Gang was straight on to the next chapter in Sally’s life: JOB.

  The porter directed the boys to slide into view a hospital screen that was painted to make it look like the door to 10 Downing Street, the famous home of the British Prime Minister. They placed it behind Sally, who chuckled.

  “I always knew I’d get the top job!”

  Meanwhile, the porter placed a crown on Amber’s head. This was made from a strip of cereal-packet cardboard. Brightly wrapped sweets had been sticky-taped to the side. The different-coloured shiny papers in white, green and red (Matron had eaten all the purple ones) gave the appearance of diamonds, emeralds and rubies. Robin flicked the light switch on and off.

  CLICK!

  It was like the flash of a camera, taking a photograph of the Prime Minister meeting the Queen.

  GRANDCHILDREN read the next slide.

  “So soon!” cried Sally as she was handed six little baby pigeons that must have just hatched, wrapped up in a towel. Professor Pigeon had become a mother, and Sally a grandmother!

  “Six babies!” cried Sally.

  “Sextuplets!” said Amber.

  “Not real babies, I hope!” called out Robin.

  “Baby pigeons!” replied Sally. “I love them all!”

  As “Nessun Dorma” reached its thrilling crescendo, the Midnight Gang circled their friend’s bed with the props and costumes from her life. Amber put her crown back on. George pushed the door to 10 Downing Street round and round. The porter took the six baby pigeons back and pulled the rope so the girl could water-ski again.

  “Nessun Dorma” came to a magnificent end, with the opera singer holding the last note for what seemed like forever. Sally was helped to stand up and took a bow.

  “This is my life!” cried the girl.

  The whole group cheered her.

  “HOORAY!”

  At that moment out of the corner of his eye, Tom spotted something. On the other side of the huge window in the operating theatre a crowd had gathered. The hospital principal, Sir Quentin Strillers, was standing at the front, and behind him were a dozen or so serious-looking doctors and nurses staring at them.

  The porter noticed that Tom was distracted by something.

  “What’s the matter, Tom?” he whispered.

  “Look!” replied the boy.

  The porter, Amber, George and Sally all followed the boy’s gaze to see the group standing on the other side of the glass.

  “Oh no,” said Tom. “We are in deep, deep trouble.”

  There was an eerie silence for a moment while the two groups stared at each other through the glass that divided the operating theatre from the observation room.

  Then the most unexpected thing happened.

  The hospital principal, Sir Quentin Strillers, began to applaud. The doctors and nurses behind him began clapping too. From the looks on their faces, it was clear they were deeply moved by what they had seen.

  “What is going on?” asked Robin.

  “It doesn’t look like we are in trouble after all,” replied Tom.

  Strillers rushed into the room, flanked by his doctors and nurses.

  “That was beautiful!” the man cried. “Breathtakingly beautiful.”

  “Thank you!” said Amber. “It was mainl
y my idea.”

  Tom looked over to George and the porter, and rolled his eyes.

  “Well then, young lady, mighty congratulations are in order. Do you know what the most moving part was?”

  “Me pressing the buttons on the projector?” asked Robin.

  The principal didn’t get the boy’s dry sense of humour so answered him seriously. “No, young man, although your button-pressing was top notch. What was truly wonderful was to see this little patient of mine smiling.”

  With that, he patted Sally on the head awkwardly. The girl had been smiling right up to that moment. Now Sally was rather annoyed that this man she barely knew was patting her like a dog.

  “All the doctors and nurses, in fact everyone here at LORD FUNT HOSPITAL, have been working so hard to help young Susie …”

  “Sally,” said Sally.

  “Are you sure?” asked Strillers.

  “Yes,” replied Sally. “My name is Sally. Definitely. I’d remember that.”

  “She can change her name to Susie if that helps you, Sir Quentin,” offered up Robin.

  “No, that won’t be necessary, boy,” said the principal, once again not getting the joke. “But one thing we never did, never even thought of doing, was to make her smile.”

  “Thank you so much, Sir Quentin,” said Amber, taking all the credit again. “My name is Amber, by the way, if you are thinking of recommending anyone for a damehood.”

  “Sir Quentin, it’s very important you know we couldn’t have done it without this man,” said Tom, hugging the porter tightly. “He is the man you sacked!”

  “Yes, yes,” murmured Strillers. “Well, my decision had been troubling me all day. After all, it was the great Lord Funt himself who took this man in as a baby.”

  The porter smiled.

  “He grew up here,” continued Sir Quentin. “And he has had a job here for many years.”

  “Forty-four years!” remarked the porter.

  “Is it really? Well, it’s safe to say that LORD FUNT HOSPITAL is your home. It always has been. And always will be. Seeing the look of joy on Sally’s face has made me realise you might just be the best person we have here at the hospital. Forgive me, gentlemen and ladies, but this man is worth a hundred doctors and nurses.”

  The doctors and nurses murmured their disapproval.

  “Thank you, Sir Quentin, sir,” replied the porter proudly.

  “We look after the children’s illnesses and injuries well here at the hospital,” continued Strillers, “but we don’t do nearly enough for their happiness. Porterman, sorry, what is your actual name?”

  “I don’t know,” said the porter. “I was never given one.”

  “What? Why?” The principal was flabbergasted. “Surely everyone has a name!”

  “My mother gave me up the day I was born,” continued the porter. “And nobody adopted me. So I suppose no one ever thought to give me a name.”

  “That isn’t right!” said Robin, being serious for once.

  “We must find you a name,” said Sir Quentin. “Is there one you fancy?”

  “I like ‘Thomas’!” replied the porter.

  Tom smiled bashfully.

  “Thomas it is!” announced the principal. “And of course, Thomas, you have a job here for life. Just promise me there will be no more flying-naked-old-lady incidents …”

  Thomas Senior smiled. “I’ll try.”

  “Now, it’s very late,” said Sir Quentin, checking the gold pocket watch that hung from his waistcoat on a chain. “I need you to all go back to your beds at once.”

  “Yes, sir,” murmured the children.

  “Let me put a call up to Matron to collect you from down here,” said the principal.

  “Oh no!” jumped in Tom a little too fast, remembering that she was sprawled out like a starfish on the floor. “Our friend here, Thomas Senior, can take us up.”

  “Off you go then. And I don’t want to hear another peep out of you all night!”

  Thomas Senior smiled, and began to wheel Sally’s bed out of the operating theatre, as the other four children followed.

  “No. Sally needs to go back to the isolation ward,” ordered Sir Quentin.

  The children all looked downcast.

  “But I don’t want to,” protested Sally. “I want to be with my friends. Please.”

  The principal looked distinctly uncomfortable. Surrounded by his doctors and nurses, he needed to be seen to do the right thing. This girl was ill; the hospital had a duty of care. The man looked around at everyone.

  Murmurs of “let her be with her friends”, “make the girl happy” and “give her what she wants” could be heard.

  “All right!” bellowed the principal. “Sally, you may go back to the children’s ward. But just for tonight.”

  “YES!” came a shout.

  Everyone in the room celebrated the good news.

  “But I want lights out straight away, and you all need to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “As if we would dream of doing anything else, sir,” replied Robin with a smirk.

  It was three in the morning by the time the Midnight Gang were all back in the ward.

  Even though she had always been vile to them, the children felt guilty about Matron lying in a heap on the floor. So, with Thomas Senior’s help, they placed her on one of the beds so she would have a good night’s sleep. They even tucked her in. Thomas Senior took himself off to Matron’s office to have a doze.

  As Matron snored away …

  “ZZZZ, ZZZZ, ZZZZ, ZZZZ, ZZZZ”

  … the Midnight Gang played games, shared sweets and told stories. When the excitement had died down a little, and George, Robin and Amber began to doze off, Sally turned to Tom.

  “Thank you, Tom,” she said. “It was so kind of you to give me your dream.”

  “That’s what the Midnight Gang is all about,” replied the boy. “Putting your friends first.”

  “Well then, you have been the best friend ever.”

  “Thank you. You should try and get some sleep.”

  “I just wanted to ask you …”

  “Yes?”

  “What would your dream have been? The one you wanted to come true.”

  “I know it sounds stupid, especially next to yours, but …”

  “What?”

  “I just want to see my mum and dad.”

  “That’s not stupid.”

  “I miss them so much.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Far away. In the desert somewhere. When I was hiding in the basement, I overheard Matron say she had put the phone down on them again and again.”

  “What?”

  “And my headmaster burned their letters.”

  “That’s disgusting!”

  “I know. I used to think they didn’t care about me …”

  “Now, you know they do.”

  “I hope so, Sally. I just want to see them.”

  “You will. I know it,” said Sally with a twinkle in her eye. After a moment, she added, “I have to say it’s been the most amazing night, Tom. It’s been the adventure of a lifetime.”

  “Good. You deserve it. You are very special. But you need to go to sleep now.”

  “I don’t want to. I want tonight to last forever.”

  But it couldn’t.

  Nothing can.

  As much as all the children on the ward wanted time to stand still and for them all to live in this moment forever, the morning sun shone through the high windows.

  The night was over.

  As dawn broke, all was finally still and quiet on the children’s ward. But just as Tom closed his eyes to finally try to get some sleep he heard a familiar voice echoing down the ward.

  It was Sir Quentin Strillers.

  “Matron!” he bellowed. “What are you doing lying in bed?”

  Tom opened one eye.

  “Wake up, woman!” shouted Strillers. “I don’t pay you to sleep on the job!”

  The
matron stirred. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in bed!”

  “At home?”

  “No, in the hospital!”

  “Am I ill?” she asked. The sleeping serum that Tom injected into her must have really knocked her out. “My bottom hurts!”

  “No, you are not ill, Matron! But you are in deep, deep trouble!”

  The other children all began waking up. They could barely contain their glee at hearing their adversary being told off like this.

  “I am so, so sorry, sir,” she said.

  “Sorry isn’t good enough, Matron! I am taking you off the children’s ward at once. You are now on toilet-cleaning duty until further notice.”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” replied Matron. The lady stumbled out of bed, and scrambled out of the ward, one shoe on, one shoe off, clutching her sore bottom.

  Seeing that Sir Quentin was approaching Tom’s bed, the boy shut his eyes in a pantomime of sleep.

  “Boy? Wake up! It’s time for you to leave the hospital.”

  Still Tom pretended to be asleep. He didn’t want to leave the children’s ward. Not now. Not ever. It was only when he felt a sharp prod of a finger on his arm that he realised he could no longer pretend.

  “But I don’t want to go back to my horrible boarding school, sir,” pleaded the boy.

  “That’s fine by me. It’s not your headmaster who is here to collect you.”

  “No?” The boy couldn’t think who it could be.

  “No. It’s your mother and father.”

  The tall double doors at the end of the children’s ward swung open, and Tom’s mum and dad entered.

  “TOMMY!” screamed his mother. She opened her arms and Tom ran towards her.

  The woman scooped him up, and gave him the biggest hug. Tom’s father was not so good at such moments, and gave his son a manly pat on the back.

  “Good to see you, son,” he said.