Thunder Raker
Justin Richards
Illustrations by Jim Hansen
For Chrisâwhose dad is a writer. No, really.
Welcome to Thunder Raker Manor
An Introduction to the School
By Mr Trenchard, Head Teacher
Thunder Raker Manor is an exclusive school for boys and girls from 8 to 18. Some of the children come daily, some are boarders. Some of them I remember, some of them Iâer, what was I saying?
Anyway, all our students are here because their parents or guardians are connected with the Security Services. Spies and agents are happy to send their children to Thunder Raker Manor secure in the knowledge that they will be safe from any possible threats.
We teach a full curriculum at Thunder Raker, fully compliant with the National Thingummy. And alongside the English and Maths and History and Geography, our students learn skills that may just come in handy back home or in their future careers
âif they have inherited their parents' inclinations and aptitudes.
As well as being an honorary CT (Classified Training) Academy, Thunder Raker is especially pleased with its latest SATS results. We take the Special Agent Training Standards very seriously indeed and have achieved excellent levels in Surveillance, Code-Breaking, and Sabotage.
And if the Security Services need a bit of help from some youngsters for a special mission, or if the villainous agents of that dastardly organisation known only as the Secret Partners for Undertaking Destruction (S.P.U.D.) try to take over the school or kidnap one of the teachersârest assured, every one of our students is ready and prepared.
Mr Trenchard has been the Head Teacher of Thunder Raker Manor since Mrs Muldoom's unfortunate accident on the assault course all those years ago. He is superbly qualified and takes great pride in his work. When he can remember what it is. Very goodâcarry on. Um. Yesâ¦
Colonel Hugh Dare-Swynne's Class of the Week This week the Colonel focuses on Class 3D, which is taught by Miss Jones.
Miss Jones says:
3D is a lovely class and works hard. This week was especially exciting for everyone as we had a new student startâAlfie (surname classified). Alfie is already settling in very well, and even has his own cover storyâsome nonsense about his father actually being a postman. As if!
Alfie fits in well with the other children. He is nine years old, and he's a clever, practical boy with lots of common sense. He's brave and loyal and fun. Though I have to say he doesn't always quite understand some of the lessons or the way we do things here at Thunder Raker. But his common sense approach is a breath of fresh air and he sees the worldâand our problemsâin a much less cluttered and complicated way than the other children..
Next up is Jack. Jack's dad is head of the Secret Service, though of course we don't mention that. But it does explain why Jack's a bit full of himself. He is always coming up with terrific ideas and plans, though usually they are rather impractical and just too involved ever to work.
Harry's dad has infiltrated SPUD and sends him strange, coded text messages and letters written in invisible ink. Sometimes the children have to go and rescue or help him, which cuts into the school day. Harry isn't the brightest of the bunch by a long way, but his questions often throw up problems with Jack's ideas. He is brave and loyal and willing and likes doing PEâon the school assault course.
Sam's mum works in Whitehall for Hush Hush, designing equipment for agents and spies. Sam uses a motorised wheelchairâwhich looks ordinary but has amazing gadgets built into it. Sam's mum made him his wheelchair because the NHS one didn't have a very good anti-missile protection system. And one of the wheels was wonky.
Moving on to the girls, Chloe is the daughter of a renowned spy (and doesn't she know it). If you thought Jack was a bit full of himself, he's got nothing on Chloe. She just has to be the centre of attention, wearing the latest fashionâand spyingâaccessories. At home she's got her telly wired up with a Playstation 3, a Wii, and the very latest omni-processing decryptortron. Unfortunately Alfie isn't terribly impressed by all this, so he and Chloe haven't really hit it off.
Alice's dad is a double agent (but it's a bit unclear which side he's actually on). You never know where you are with Aliceâshe says one thing then does another. Her moods are volatile and she's got a temper like a tank-buster missile when it goes off.
Beth is a swot and a techie. Her dad is a super-boffin who runs the Government's Inventing Taskforce (GIT). She's inherited his absented-minded braininess. She's not so hot on the practical side of things thoughâshe can design a robot to tie your shoelaces, but she's always tripping over her own feet. She comes to school on her rocket-powered rollerblades.
Miss Jones
Miss Jones is responsible for teaching Class 3D the ordinary everyday subjects like Maths and English and History. She's newly-qualified, quiet and unassuming. Like Miss Jones, all the subject teachers at Thunder Raker Manor are fully qualified and at the very peak of their profession. Many of them are former agents and spies, so together they bring a wealth of experience to the school.
Mr Cryptionâteaches Codes. He's tall and thin and no one understands anything he says.
Miss Fortune teaches Assassination. Her classes always seem to be a few pupils shortâthey get sent on errands or asked to help fetch something, and never come backâ¦Note, though, that Class 3D is too young for Assassination, which is only taught in the Sixth Form.
Sir Westerly Compass is in charge of Tracking Skills. He's always late for class, and his lessons are often moved at short notice.
The Majorâthat's all he's ever calledâis in charge of Sabotage Training. He has an enormous moustache and he's rather accident prone. Everything he touches breaksâeven the plate he gets his school dinner onâ¦
Mrs Nuffink teaches Surveillance. Don't mess around in her classâshe's got eyes in the back of her head. No, really.
Camouflage is supposed to be taught by Mr Trick. But no one can find him.
The Chaplain is Reverend “Bongo” Smithers, a former fighter pilot more interested in war stories than Bible stories. He also teaches PE. Ruthlessly.
Peace of Mind
So whatever your parental requirements or security clearance, you can rest assured that Thunder Raker Manor will provide a first class education for your child in every respect. We can't tell you how much the children enjoy being here. No, reallyâwe can't. It's an official secret.
Alfie's dad had a very ordinary name. Loads and loads of people had exactly the same name. In fact, one of those people who had the same very ordinary name was the Prime Minister.
And that was how the misunderstanding happened.
When Alfie's dad got a new job and the whole family moved house, Alfie's parents wanted him to go to the very best school in
the area, a school where he would be happy and would learn lots.
One morning, while Alfie was eating his cornflakes and his mum was making toast, Alfie's dad came home from work. This was not as strange as it might sound, because Alfie's dad was a postman so he started work very early and finished when Alfie and his mum were just starting their day.
Alfie's dad dropped his postman's cap on the table beside Alfie's cornflakes and declared, “I've found it.”
“Your cap?” Alfie asked. “I didn't know you'd lost it.”
“No,” said Dad. “I have found your new school.”
The cornflakes in Alfie's mouth became a
spray of soggy breakfast that spattered across Dad's cap. “School?!”
“You have to go to school,” Dad pointed out. “Ask your mother.”
“Mum?” Alfie said.
“You have to go to school,” Mum said. “Ask your dad.”
Alfie sighed.
“What's the school like?” Alfie's mum asked.
Alfie's dad sat down and helped himself to a slice of toast. “It's a strange looking place. I didn't realise it even was a school until this morning. Their post comes in a special sealed bag. I just hand it to a man in uniform at the gate. He has a hat too, very official.”
“Where is it?” Alfie asked.
“On his head, of course,” said Alfie's dad.
“I think he means the school,” Mum said. “Not the hat.”
“Oh. It's just up the road. The big old house behind the electric fences and security gates.”
“I thought that was a government place,” Mum said. “Secret.”
“No,” Dad assured her. “It's a school. I know that because their special post bag is labelled âThunder Raker Manor School'.”
“Weird name,” Alfie said. But he wasn't surprised: he'd seen the big house Dad was talking about and
it
was pretty weird too. He wasn't sure if he wanted to go to a school that
had security gates and electric fences round it. He was a quiet boy who liked to keep himself to himself and not cause or get into trouble. Security gates and electric fences sounded like trouble.
“The man at the gate says it's the best school of its kind in the country, maybe in the world,” Dad said proudly. “And it's in
our
neighbourhood. And I think we should send Alfie there.”
“But it looks weird,” Alfie said, very quietly.
Dad didn't seem to hear him, and Mum was buttering more toast. “Good,” she said. “The new term starts next week, so I'm glad that's all sorted.”
That afternoon, Alfie's dad wrote a letter. He addressed it to
The Head Teacher, Thunder
Raker Manor School.
The next day he would slip the letter into the special post bag before he handed it to the man at the gate.
Alfie's dad signed the letter with his nameâhis very ordinary and not at all unusual name that he just happened to share with the Prime Minister. And because Alfie's dad knew that his name was very ordinary and not at all unusual, he put in brackets after it the letters “PM”, for Post Man, so that the Head Teacher would be
sure to know who the letter had come from.
And that's how the misunderstanding really got going.
“Come in, come in,” called Mr Trenchard, the head teacher of Thunder Raker Manor, when Miss Jones knocked on his door. He peered at her suspiciously over a pair of wire-framed spectacles. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I'm Miss Jones.”
Mr Trenchard gave a funny sort of cough. “Never heard of you. What do you want?”
“You sent for me, Mr Trenchard.”
He tried looking at her through the spectacles, in case that made any difference. “Why would I do that?” he said.
“I teach Class 3D,” Miss Jones said patiently.
This was not the first time Mr Trenchard had claimed not to know her. “Miss Jones, remember?”
Mr Trenchard considered this. “Are you wearing a disguise?”
“No.”
“Is that beard real, then?”
Miss Jones frowned. She was a young lady who considered herself to be rather attractive. “I don't have a beard.“
“Ah, so it's a
false
one then. Oh, no, hang on, my mistake.” Mr Trenchard pulled off his spectacles and examined them carefully. “Bit of fluff on my glasses.”
He gave them a polish on the sleeve of his jacket. “There, that's better. Now, I'm glad you're here, because I've had this letter,”âhe picked it up and waved it about vigorouslyâ“from the PMâthe
Prime Minister.
So it's probably very secret. Best way to deal with secrets, I find, is to forget them straight away. I used to practice that when I was younger, you know. I got to be terribly good at forgetting things. Do it all the time now. Just goes to show what practice can do.” Mr Trenchard nodded happily. “I'm good at forgetting things too,” he said proudly.
“So what does the letter say?” Miss Jones asked.
Mr Trenchard looked blank.
“The letter in your hand, from the PM,” Miss Jones said.
“Ah, yes, very important.” Mr Trenchard brandished the letter excitedly. “The Prime Minister wants us to take a new boy, a lad called Alfie. Must be a pretty special chap if the PM has written personally to tell us about him. He will start next week when the new term begins.” Mr Trenchard clicked his tongue. “Didn't realise the old term had ended actually,” he muttered. “Oh well. Anyway, yes. Alfieâhe'll be in Class 3D. Don't suppose you know who teaches that class?”
“Yes,” Miss Jones said. “
I
do.”
“Really?” Mr Trenchard said. “Lucky you were here then.”
“Isn't it just?” Miss Jones said quietly as she left the room.