Kidnap (The Billionaire Series) (19 page)

“Now, I, as the male representative of our family, should ask you
to change but seeing that it’s our first day and you look amazing, I’ll
overlook it on this occasion.”

“That’s very kind of you, thank-you. You look pretty hmm
interesting in an un-matching, un-ironed ensemble kind of way.”

“Thanks, it took me hours to choose this lot,” he replied proudly
and very firmly tongue in cheek.

They made their way down to the foyer of their block where they
met their friends who were waiting impatiently to go to breakfast.

At 7.50 a.m., the first bell sounded. The group of eight looked
at each other. They were about to find out
who
was in
whose class. As instructed, they made their way to the Year One hall, where
they would be given their timetables. As they approached the building, a large
group of students had congregated outside, waiting for the doors to open.

The doors opened automatically at 7.58 precisely and the students
made their way inside. The hall could seat around 300 students and was laid out
like a cinema with large comfortable chairs. Instead of drinks holders between
the seats, there were retractable desks and a small control panel for, amongst
other things, a translation device with headphones. The room was noisy with the
excited chatter of over 200
new
Year 1 students. Tom,
Lela and their friends found eight seats together near the front and waited for
whatever was about to happen.

“Welcome to The Academy,” boomed a cheery voice. Silence
descended on the hall as an enormous screen came to life and a very cheery Mr
Sakamoto sat behind his desk. The picture then broke down into seven boxes
showing seven different halls, each filled with excited students. The screen
then switched back to Mr Sakamoto.

“My name is Mr Sakamoto and I am the Headmaster of this
prestigious new institution. It is an institution founded to ensure the
security of the world and its economies.
Every country in the
world is represented by you
. You will form friendships and relationships
with students whom your ancestors would have regarded as enemies. You will
learn and understand how you, personally, can contribute to and improve the
world we live in. We believe that this institution, through its curriculum,
will inspire you, as a collective, to resolve many of the world’s biggest
issues, in a way that had never been thought possible. This won’t happen
overnight but in generations to come and surely in your own lifetimes. Today
will be looked back on as the
day which
changed the
course of world history. And every one of you is the key to that.” All seven
halls exploded into rapturous applause.

“Sounds exciting, impressive and very scary all in one,”
whispered Tom to Lela.

As the applause died down, Mr Sakamoto continued.

“Thank you. Soon, I will hand you over to your Year Heads who
will let you know the format of your classes and take you through your
timetable. But firstly, I believe there are a number of rumours regarding the
exclusion of students from the school yesterday. To clarify the situation, I
can confirm that one student was excluded for bullying. Nobody was seriously
injured and I want to make it clear that the school rule will always be
enforced rigorously. It is brief and overarching. There are
no
loopholes nor
get-out clauses. You must behave like ladies and gentlemen
or you will be asked to leave. There will be no exceptions and no second
chances. And finally I want to wish you all well in your studies and most
importantly, hope that you enjoy your time here. My door is always open and
should you wish to see me, please do not
hesitate
as
that’s what I’m here for. Now I’m pleased to introduce you to your Year Heads.
Good-bye for now.” The screen went blank.

Mr Sakamoto looked over at his Deputy, Mr
Weadle
.

“How was that?” he asked.

 
Unlike Mr Sakamoto,
Weadle
was a lifelong educator, having been the Headmaster
of many prestigious schools in his time. In order to get to know each other
better, they had spent the previous week together at an elite training centre
in Nottingham, England, with a specialist headmaster trainer, Mr Johnson. It
was obvious that
Weadle
did not agree with Mr
Sakamoto’s appointment above him. However, Mr Johnson had put
Weadle
firmly in his place and had warned Mr Sakamoto that
he was going to have to watch
Weadle
like a hawk.

“Yes, not bad,” replied
Weadle
.

From
Weadle
that was as good a
compliment as Mr Sakamoto could have expected.

***

A very chirpy and excited man bounced up onto the stage and
introduced himself to his audience.

“Bonjour, my name is
Monsieur
Bécherand
and I am the Head of Year
One.
”

“Bonjour,” came the automatic response from the audience.

“
Merci
and welcome to
l’Académie
. Firstly, I’m sure you’re all very keen to know
which classes you’re in, so let’s get that out of the way. Could everyone
please stand up and look at the ten blocks of seats in the hall. Above each
block is a letter from A to J and they each designate a class. OK, if you look
at the screen, you’ll see that there are about twenty names under each letter.
Once you’ve found your name on a list, please make your way to the
corresponding block.”

Chaos descended on the hall as students fought past each other to
find their block. Tom and Lela held each other’s hands tightly as they looked
for their names. This was the moment they had been dreading. They could not
bear the thought of being separated. Donald had insisted that they remain in
the same year. Tom was not allowed directly into Year 2 as he was only thirteen
so the only option was to hold Lela back a year which all agreed was better
than separation. However, no guarantees were given that they would be in the
same class.

Tom found his name. He was in class 1H.

“I’m in 1H,” said Lela.

“So am I!” said Tom, hugely relieved.

“So am I!” came another six responses from around them.

“What! We’re all in the same class?” Tom said.

“Looks like it,” responded Ahmad.

Tom thought back to the meeting with Mr Sakamoto. He had been
interested in who they had made friends with and had obviously made a few last
minute changes.

“That’s fantastic!” said
Mingmei
.

“Excellent!” added Chen.

“Wicked!” said Tristan. “Are there any real
hotties
in our class?”

The group just laughed at him.

As they made their way to their block of seats, they noticed a
teacher sitting amongst their group. She was young and Tristan thought looked
very fit. As they approached, they counted thirteen students waiting for them.
Class 1H had
twenty one
students, twelve boys and nine
girls. Tristan was disappointed with the ratio. Thabo, whom they had met on the
first
evening
was in their class, as was the US Joint
Chiefs’ son, Zach. Tom and Lela recognised a few of the others but there were
quite a few students they did not know.
 

“Hi
guys,
come and sit down. I’m Miss
Sullivan and I’m your Class Principal. I will be your first point of contact
for any problems you may have in your first year here.”

The eight took their seats.

“If you look at your armrest on the right, you’ll see a control
panel. Please touch the ‘Notepad’ button,” instructed Miss Sullivan.

As they pressed the button, small notepads emerged from the
armrest and swung in front of each of the students. It had the same screen Tom
had seen on their first day.

“Now if you can all just write your name in the box and then
touch the enter button with your right forefinger,” she instructed and watched
as they all completed the task. “Excellent, that’s it, from now on all you need
to do is touch any screen in the school and you will be logged straight into
your account.”

A number of different cools,
wickeds
and
excellents
could be heard around the class.

Miss Sullivan continued.

“Every single desk has a similar notepad, one touch and you
access everything you have ever stored. The school is paperless, if you prefer
to use a pen to take notes than using a keyboard just use the electronic pens
and write on the screen and it will be automatically be added to your notes for
whatever lesson you’re in. The system is intuitive and will correct you if you
make mistakes.”

“So education has finally broken into the twenty first century,”
whispered Tom to Lela.

“If you touch the timetable tab at the top of your screen, your
timetable will come up.”

The students eagerly clicked the symbol, desperate to see their
timetables.
Weeks of speculation as to what was in store for
them was
about to end.

Tom eagerly clicked the button and his timetable appeared in
front of him.

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

8.00 - 9.00

English

Maths

Geography

Chemistry

Maths

9.00 - 10.00

Maths

Physics

French

English

Biology

10.15 - 11-15

French

Latin

Art/Music

Physics

Spanish

Sports

10.00
-
 
2.00

11.15 - 12.15

Chemistry

Spanish

Religious Studies

Biology

Computing

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

1.30 - 2.30

Economics

World History

New Business

Marketing

Law

2.30 - 3.30

World Politics

Accounting

Psychology

Economics

Accounting

3.30 - 4.30

International

Business

Business Admin

Leadership Skills

World Politics

Etiquette

Miss Sullivan allowed them all some time to digest the
information before continuing.

“If you could please touch the English lesson at 8.00 a.m. on
Monday, you’ll see that the screen jumps to a more detailed page, giving you
the location, your teacher’s name, any homework due for that day and as you can
see, you have an essay due for next Monday. You will also see the coursework
tab. If you press that,” Miss Sullivan waited as they each navigated to the
correct area. “You’ll see a comprehensive list and detailed notes for each of
your lessons, you’ll also notice suggested links for further help and
information. Every subject has the same facility, everything is there for you.”

“This is fantastic,” Tom said to Lela as he flew through the
pages.

“I must, however, emphasise that although you have all your
coursework to hand, do not underestimate how much work will be required and how
hard the courses are going to be. The school planners are using you as guinea
pigs and have opted for the hardest option this year.”

A bell sounded signifying that it was 8.55 a.m. and time for
their next class. Nobody moved.

“Well, everybody, time to go to your first class,” said Monsieur
Bécherand
from the stage.

Everybody in Tom’s class looked at each other, they had no idea
where to go.

“It’s OK, I’m your Physics teacher and your first lesson is with
me. I’ll take you to the lab,” announced Miss Sullivan to Class IH.

The class breathed a sigh of relief and followed Miss Sullivan to
the Science Wing. The rest of the day was really an induction day, to get to
know their teachers and the other students in their class.
 

There were four students of oriental origin. Lela,
Chingmei
, Mia and Chen. There were two South Americans,
Diego the son of the Paraguayan President and Elena the daughter of a Brazilian
industrialist. There was one student from the West Indies, Amy, the daughter of
the President of Dominica, a tiny Caribbean island. There were five European
students, Tom, Tristan, Oleg,
Alysia
, the daughter of
a Greek shipping tycoon and Princess Madeleine of Sweden. There were two
students from the Middle East, Jamal the son of the Syrian President and Ahmad.
Three North Americans, Thierry, the son of a Canadian
businessman, Heather, the daughter of an American financial family and Zach.
There were two Africans, Thabo and Hassan, the Crown Prince of Morocco, one
Australasian, Holly, the daughter of a very successful designer in Australia
and one Indian student,
Devesh
or ‘
Dev
’, the son of the richest family in India.