The Midnight Feast

Imagine, dear readers, the scene of the crime. On Saturday night we were thwarted in our efforts to indulge in a Midnight Feast in the Staff Room owing to the vigilance of our dear Headmistress. She had caught me creeping across the Dining Room and sent me back to bed. Instead, I let myself out of the side door, scrunched as quietly as I could across the gravel path, slipped and slithered and scrambled up onto the grass, and padded quietly round to where the others were supposed to have unlocked the side door by the Staffroom. It was locked. I couldn't see in very well, I'm just not tall enough, but assumed as the others were standing round in a circle they must be playing some sort of game. They were, but sadly not through their own choice. I tapped on the window and made frantic gestures to be let in, and tumbled into the Staffroom to find that the game the others were playing was "explain to Miss Livingboobs why we are not all in our beds". She was in the middle, leading the commentary. We  will draw a veil over the next ten minutes, suffice to say we all crept back to our beds and slept on our tummies for the remainder of the night.
We decided that maybe with the Beaks having their sleeping quarters in between the Boys Wing and Girls Wing it might be better if we had  our own gender Feast the following night. Opposite to our dormitory (Michelle, Sarah and Bethany) there was an empty dormitory, so we earmarked that for our Feast. Deedee, Katie  and Sandra duly arrived with goodies, and we settled down to put the world to rights while sipping wine, and eating cakes and biscuits. Katie thought she heard a noise, so we doused all the lights, and sat in absolute darkness, ears strained for the least sound. Slowly the door opened, we all tried hiding and suppressing our squeaks of terror as Tommy Mac bounded into the room with a cry of "here you all are". He was closely followed by Chris and Malcolm, all clutching bags of more goodies. These had been confiscated the night before, but Mr Malcolm told Chris to leave the bags on the kitchen table while he took him through to the Staffroom for punishment. Michelle and I retrieved them and hid them in... well, never mind where, we might want to use the same place next year! They had decided to try and come and find us, and had negotiated the creaking  floorboards in the dining room successfully.
We continued our chatter and our Feast, and all was well until the door was suddenly thrown open, and Miss Livingstone stood there, absolutely amazed at our temerity.  Thankfully she had only popped into the kitchen to retrieve her phone, and had no toys about her person. She had been  alerted by the light from the dormitory window above the kitchen spilling out into the courtyard, otherwise she would have returned to her slumbers  unaware of our naughtiness.
We were sent back to bed with a smacked bottom and the promise of proper retribution in the morning. she didn't forget, either! But all in all, we can chalk up yet another successful feast.