Kam funnelled all the children over to the carpet, and once they were sat there, he explained how they were going to methodically explore each area, with small groups of children examining under furniture, in draws and cupboards, while others were the designated ‘spotters’ in case Sir Squeaks made a dash for it.
After the whole classroom was taken apart the children gathered back to the reading corner again, waiting to hear what to do next. With no sign of the runaway hamster, Pippa wasn’t entirely sure what the best thing was, and felt desperate for Kam. Some of the more sensitive children were beginning to get upset.
‘He’s going to die.’ Ashleigh bawled as they were sat back on the carpet.
‘Someone is going to stamp on him and he’s going to get squished.’ Alfie added helpfully, and with a little too much glee. Kam raised an eyebrow at the boy who had the grace to bow his head.
‘I don’t think so. When I was little I had a favourite set of books, all about a hamster called Hannibal who used to escape all the time and have great adventures. If Miss Parkin fancies going to get a couple of extra pairs of hands – if anyone is free that is, maybe some of the older children – they can have another jolly good look and we can sit here, eyes still peeled, and imagine what sort of adventures Sir Squeaks-a-lot could be having.’ He drew a map of the classroom on the smartboard and got the children guessing what they would do if they were an excitable hamster having an adventure.
By the time Pippa had returned with Sylvie and four of Mrs Adams’ most responsible pupils (having checked Harmony and her plans to liberate Sir Squeaks on compassionate grounds had nothing to do with it), Class One had designed jet-skis for the water tray and an assault course through the sand, but Ashleigh was still sobbing, harder now and so loud it was beginning to drown Kam out.
He had tried bringing her forward and resting his arm on her shoulders as he addressed the rest of the class, but Pippa’s experience taught her that with no other adults in the room it was hard to get her to stop her wailing and manage the rest of the children. Ashleigh did like to cry. And cry loudly. She did it most days. However, as this was Kam’s first week with the class he hadn’t got quite as irritated as Pippa had. Instead he shot her a look of pure alarm.
Pippa set the older children to looking throughout the cloakroom, and came and joined Kam on the carpet.
‘Now, Ashleigh’ – she slid in next to the little girl – ‘everything is going to be fine. We’ll find him and he’ll be very tired and happy to curl up in his little bed, don’t worry.’
‘He won’t… he’s going to die…’ Ashleigh started to hyperventilate.
‘Oh, just stop, you’re such a cry baby.’ Harry rolled his eyes and let out a huge sigh, and Pippa tried not to nod in agreement.
‘He’s… going… to… die… in…’
‘Hang on, “die in…”? Ashleigh do you know where Squeaks is?’ Kam was quicker than Pippa at picking up on the extra word.
Sophie kicked Ashleigh who stopped her crying suddenly and leant over to pinch her back.
‘Ow! She pinched me, Mr Choudhury. She pinched me.’
‘Nice try, Sophie…’ said Pippa, far less professionally than she guessed Kam would be. ‘You kicked her first. Now what exactly is going on? There’s something you girls aren’t telling us.’
Sophie immediately burst into tears, hers rising over Ashleigh’s, which to be frank was quite a feat.
‘Oh, man!’ Harry bowed his head and put his fingers on his ears.
Pippa looked up, caught Kam’s eyes and grinned. He looked like he was in complete accord with Harry, as was the rest of the class by now. It didn’t matter how brilliant you were during teacher training, or what skills you had developed in the career you had before; nothing would ever prepare you to deal with the hysterical squawking of four-year-old girls mid-meltdown.
‘Sophie?’ Pippa’s voice took on a warning tone.
‘It’s not my fault, Miss.’
‘It is! It is!’ Ashleigh’s tears dried remarkably quickly given the opportunity to rat her friend out. ‘Sir Squeaks-a-lot is in her PE bag!’ She shot a triumphant look across at Sophie, no qualms about spilling her friend’s secret, nor apparently about taking half an hour to do so.
‘Right, Miss Parkin perhaps if you take over here?’ Kam stood up and motioned to Sophie to do the same.
Pippa jumped into his spot and immediately launched into some numeracy songs in an attempt to distract the class from what may or may not be found in Sophie Edmond’s PE bag. Reluctantly they joined in, although clearly every single one of them was itching to watch the drama unfold.
In truth, singing about five little ducks was boring Pippa to tears as well; she also wanted to see what was happening in the cloakroom and was trying to keep half an eye on the cloakroom whilst pretending not to and hoping she didn’t look swivel-eyed to the children.
As baby duck was just swimming back after the quack quacks, Pippa heard Kam shout damn and quickly apologise. Pippa stopped singing and swung her head to see Sir Squeaks-a-lot race into the classroom (Kam was right, they really did run fast) with Kam full pelt in behind him. But six foot of newly qualified teacher was no match for a hamster who was clearly thoroughly done with today.
The hamster raced across the floor, having the advantage of being able to scoot under furniture and around corners far more agilely than Kam could. It was really quite funny. Kam seemed to turn into Basil Fawlty, arms and legs everywhere. Every time it looked like Kam had the hamster pinned down, the naughty little beast would outwit him and dash the other way at speed. A few of the children started to giggle but were hushed immediately by a look from Pippa. Somehow, she managed to channel the terrifying Amanda Adams in one glance.
It was hard though not to giggle. He did look hilarious, gangly limbs flying as he sped around corners, his tie over his shoulder as the hamster disappeared on him again.
‘Right, I need to go and help Mr Choudhury. Can you all stay here so we keep Sir Squeaks safe?’ The class nodded, rapt by what was occurring in front of them. ‘And you can sit down with the others,’ Pippa addressed Sophie. She knew there would be a good reason why Sophie felt it was necessary to steal the school hamster, but now was not the time to hear it. They had to get the hamster back into his cage and try to recover a semblance of order before the parents started to arrive just before three, and peer through windows.
Pippa wondered over to the construction area where the children developed their skills with the Lego and Mobilo and where Kam was presently on his knees trying to coax the hamster out by making encouraging squeaking noises.
