Ribblestrop Forever! (22 page)

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Authors: Andy Mulligan

BOOK: Ribblestrop Forever!
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‘Are we going up mountains?’ said Eric. ‘Is this for the flare path project?’

‘Yes,’ said Doctor Ellie. ‘It’s a combination of survival and archeological exploration, so it’s going to test you to the limit. The mountains are actually known as
tors, by the way. They’re all over the moor and our tribe would have known every inch. They’re volcanoes. Three hundred million years old.’

Captain Routon explained the proposed route in hushed silence. They would start soon, for Mr Ian was keen to get moving. They’d leave at dawn and follow what Doctor Ellie believed to be
the first flare path. If they could trace it, it would lead them through farms, into the wilderness of the open moor. They would travel for a full day and meet up with the children of The Priory.
That’s when the competition would start.

Doctor Ellie pinned up the team lists.

They would be in small groups, fanning out across the valley. Each team would be making for a different destination, as it was a test of orienteering. They would have maps and a compass and,
when they’d reached their first stop, they’d have to solve a simple riddle. This would allow them to locate Mr Ian’s concealed boxes, in which they’d find the co-ordinates
for the finishing post.

The winning team would receive the Pioneers’ Award.

The children burst into spontaneous applause and instantly set about organising kit-lists.

‘How many nights, sir?’ said Israel. ‘How long are we actually out on our own?’

‘Just two,’ said Routon. ‘I was hoping for longer, but as it’s your first outing, we’re taking it easy.’

‘So we live as the tribe did!’ said Ruskin. ‘We’ll actually be the tribe, crossing the moor!’

‘That’s the idea,’ said Doctor Ellie.

‘Where do we end up?’ said Millie. ‘We meet up at the end, right?’

‘Mr Ian’s choosing the final destination,’ said Captain Routon. ‘It’s a very closely guarded secret – not even I know where it’s going to be at the
moment. But I’m sure he’ll choose somewhere interesting.’

Sanchez found Millie later that evening. She was feeding the camel and he stood watching, uncertain and nervous.

‘How are you?’ he said, awkwardly.

‘Fine.’

‘Do you need a hand?’

‘She’s off her mash. She knows we’re leaving.’

‘Isn’t she coming?’

‘Only two chariots, Sanchez. What’s she going to do? You’re feeling useless and rejected, aren’t you, baby?’

‘How can she know?’

‘Sixth sense, I guess. Some creatures are very sensitive.’

Sanchez looked at her and she raised her eyebrows.

‘Have I done something wrong, by the way? Are you here to lecture me about something?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Well, I’m going to take her down to the lake, so you can come with me if you want. Can you limp that far?’

Sanchez swallowed the insult and helped her open the paddock gate. He had learnt not to let Millie’s belligerence provoke him. They had ridden horses together through Colombian coffee
plantations. They had slept in the same tent up in the snowline and watched shooting stars. He could never understand how a friendship as close as theirs slipped so easily back into
confrontation.

Millie led the animal through the woods. By the time they got to the water, the sun was low and the school building was golden again. Neptune reclined, gazing up at the sky. His face was as
inscrutable as ever, though Anjoli had said it was just the bug-eyed look of constipation.

‘Come on, then,’ said Millie, as the camel lapped. ‘What do you want to talk about?’

Sanchez decided to be frank. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’m worried.’

‘What’s worrying you?’

‘I’m worried that we hardly ever talk now and things are happening too fast. Do you think we’re ready for the expedition?’

‘Yes. I think we’re ready for anything.’

‘What if something goes wrong? The last thing we want is for us to get lost. If we get lost, the police will get involved – they were here the other day. I heard the headmaster and
he was saying they’re still going to make a prosecution – they’re just getting it ready. There’s going to be a summons and—’

‘When did he tell you this?’

‘He didn’t.’ Sanchez looked embarrassed. ‘He was talking to Professor Worthington and I kind of . . . overheard.’

‘Spying, Sanchez. That’s bad.’

‘If they all get prosecuted, it will mean the end of the school. They could be arrested again and that means we all get split up. What would the orphans do?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Things are getting dangerous.’

Millie looked at him. His eyes were full of tears.

‘What’s on your mind, Sanchez? What are you thinking?’

‘I’ve just got a bad feeling about the future. I think there are . . . omens. And I’m frightened.’

‘Omens?’

‘Yes.’

Millie smiled. ‘It’s usually the other way round, isn’t? I’m usually the one warning you.’

‘Have you spoken to Tomaz?’

‘Yes,’ said Millie. ‘Have you? He thinks you’ve been avoiding him.’

Sanchez blushed. ‘I have been – I admit it. But I spoke to him this morning.’

‘Have you spoken to Miles? Sanjay? Asilah?’

‘Yes, I’ve spoken to them all. But . . . you’re going to think this is silly. I thought I was the only one. That’s why I said nothing.’

‘The only one?’

‘Getting visits. Hearing things.’

Millie was silent for a moment. Then she spoke, firmly. ‘Maybe you sleep deeper than most people, Sanchez. But everyone sees them – just in the corner of their eye . . .
they’re just shapes at the moment. Tomaz lived with a ghost, don’t forget. He’s sensitive that way and he says they’re all around the tree houses – he’s been
saying it from the start. Miles is sure as well. They hear stuff and they get given stuff. And I believe them.’

‘I was woken up last night. I received a gift.’

‘Are you talking about feathers?’

‘No. I know people keep finding feathers, but I was thinking so what? There are birds in the trees. There’s nothing special about feathers. What I found was . . . can I show it to
you?’

He slipped his hand into his pocket.

‘I was given it last night. By a child.’

Sanchez opened his hand and revealed a flat stone. It was a cream colour and had been chipped sharp around the edges. There was a web of strange, rusty orange over the surface, fine as thread.
Millie took it and stared. She saw that along one side there was a ridge, like the backbone of some creature. From the backbone, on either side, little ribs formed the pattern of a feather, or a
fish.

‘It’s a fossil,’ said Millie. ‘You’re saying someone put it in your pocket?’

Sanchez said, ‘It’s got a hole in it – can you see? It’s like the one in the museum, I don’t know if you saw it. I was hearing wind in the branches, like we all do.
There’s leaves moving all the time, but I was lying awake and there was Miles on one side of me, Eric on the other. The tree house was moving, of course – we’re used to that. But
I felt someone sitting right by me, close to my shoulder. I heard him laugh and I . . .’

‘What?’

‘He touched my hair.’ Sanchez paused. He was flushed. ‘I had my eyes open. I was not asleep, but everyone else was. I swear it. I was wide awake and when I looked . . . there
was nothing, obviously. Just the laughter again. Not mean laughter – not spooky, even, just . . . playing laughter and a hand pressed me. Just here.’ Sanchez touched his chest. ‘I
sat right up and the next morning I find this under my pillow. A gift.’

‘You think it was a ghost?’ said Millie.

‘I know it was a ghost. I know it. And what I want to know, Millie, was what you saw in the museum that made you so upset. You know, when we were standing round the urn with the little
baby inside – Eleudin. What did you see that made you crack up like that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Was it just the fact it was a skeleton? Did it scare you?’

Millie looked hard into his eyes. ‘No,’ she said. ‘It didn’t scare me at all. What’s scary about it?’ She paused. ‘Look . . . this is really hard to put
into words, but I was . . . staring, like everyone else. And the glass . . . you know how you see reflections, so you see yourself? We were all standing around him and it was just that, for a
moment, for a second, the glass wasn’t there and I saw us. It was our child and he was one of us. We were gathered round him and it was us putting the thread round his wrists and feet and . .
. do you remember? She told us they even had earrings for him and he had long hair. We were there with him, like they must have been. He was one of ours. All we wanted was for him to get to heaven
and I thought,
Poor baby. Poor us, grieving for him.
It’s not them, it’s us – we’re no different. History’s about studying ourselves.’

Sanchez nodded. A tear rolled down his cheek.

‘I showed the fossil to Asilah,’ he said. His voice was shaking. ‘He said he has one. He said Nikko has one too and Nikko found it in his pocket. Just a little one, but sharp
as a razor.’

‘What does it mean?’

‘I don’t know, but they’re all around us! I showed mine to Doctor Ellie and she said it’s a protective thing to ward off . . . whatever’s out there. So I
don’t think we should go out on the moor. I think something really bad’s coming.’

Millie touched him gently on the shoulder. ‘I know it,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’re right and everyone feels it. But whatever’s coming is going to find us,
wherever we are, isn’t it? It’s going to push us to the limit, because it always does.’

Sanchez sighed. ‘We don’t have to go! We can just stay here!’

‘No we can’t.’

‘Tell me we’re friends, please. We are friends, aren’t we? You and me?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you think we should just wait? And see what happens?’

‘Sanchez, yes. What else can we do? We stick together and we look after each other.’

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The next sensation was at the museum.

Doctor Ellie had sent a message that everyone was to meet at two o’clock on Wednesday. The children had been upgrading camp defences, for they didn’t want the place spoiled in their
absence. A new man-trap was dug, close to the main access trail, and camouflage had been renewed to disguise the tree houses. They would leave for the moor properly armed, so axe-heads were fitted
onto hard wooden poles, which were left in water to swell and tighten. Swords and daggers were sharpened twice a day.

They decided to rest the donkeys by cycling into town, and were through the doors right on time. They piled their cloaks in a heap and those that had dared to wear their weapons – for the
teachers still threatened to confiscate any they saw – remembered in time and hid them. Sanjay led everyone through to the conservatory and was stopped in his tracks. A dozen children in
smart blue blazers had got there first and were sitting crosslegged in rows. They swung round at the intrusion and gazed at the Ribblestrop pupils, open-mouthed.

‘Wow!’ yelled Anjoli. ‘There’s kids here! Little ’uns!’

The children in blue could only gawp as the savages piled in. Asilah fought his way to the front to restore order, but it was a chaotic scene.

‘Hey, look who it is!’ yelled Sam. ‘Look at that, guys, it’s Scottie!’

‘There’s Jacqueline!’ shouted Kenji. ‘What are you doing here?’

Sure enough, the two children they’d met with Mr Ian were in the group, looking as pale and bewildered as the rest.

‘Hey,’ said Imagio, kneeling down beside a frizzy-haired eight-year-old. ‘What’s with the clipboards, man?’

‘Look at this!’ said Israel. ‘They got questions!’

‘You guys doing a test?’ said Eric.

‘They’re making notes,’ shouted Vijay. ‘Look at this guy’s handwriting! Look!’

‘That is neat,’ said Imagio, squatting next to him.

Miles had pushed through, straight to Vicky. ‘Miss!’ he said, hugging her. ‘You’ve started without us! Where’s the stone gone?’

Vicky struggled to make herself heard above the din and fought her way out of Miles’ embrace.

‘Listen, please!’ she cried. ‘Listen! We’re double-booked, I’m afraid. There’s been a bit of confusion, so . . . please! It’s going to be quite a
squeeze. I’m sure we can do it if we’re organised. Can everyone just sit down for a second?’

It was just at that moment that a voice bellowed from the hall and the glass shook in the windowframes. Even the Ribblestrop pupils were silenced and Vicky jumped as if she’d been struck.
All eyes turned to the teacher, pressing through the tangle of bodies; it was, of course, Mr Ian.

‘Silence, the lot of you!’ he yelled. He waited for two seconds and then said in a serpent-like hiss, ‘What the hell is going on? Who are these ruffians?’

‘Hey, Mr Ian,’ said Miles, from under his nose. ‘You’re looking good.’

‘Better than ever,’ said Anjoli.

Mr Ian changed colour. His face went pale, as if the blood was draining into his beard, and his lips twitched.

‘Excuse me,’ said Tomaz, from behind. ‘We’ve got to get Henry in still. Can you move up a bit?’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Mr Ian. ‘I thought . . .’

‘Oh, this is my fault!’ said another voice, from even further back. ‘Is that the Ribblestrop children? I’m afraid we got muddled – we get so few school groups and
now we have two at the same time.’ Doctor Ellie was easing herself into the room, pressed to the wall. She slid round to the front, eyes shining. ‘What an absolute treat!’ she
cried. ‘You’re going to have to forgive me, Mr Ian – it’s a genuine mistake. Your children can squeeze to the front, can’t they? Can you move forward,
dears?’

‘This is intolerable . . .’ said Mr Ian. ‘I reconfirmed this only yesterday!’

The look of horror on his face was intensifying. He was taking in the details, now, as his eyes sprang from child to child. Sanjay was wearing multiple necklaces of stones and birds’
feathers and his blazer had no sleeves. Kenji had tied his hair up in dreadlocks and was wearing nothing but shorts. Every inch of skin was painted deep red, though the red was slashed with black
tiger stripes. Henry was actually breathing down Mr Ian’s neck as he was led past. He wore the yellow and black of Ribblestrop and even had a tie on. He was carrying a dozen dead rabbits,
though, that Sam had killed with his slingshot on the journey. They hung from a stick, tied by the feet, and The Priory children couldn’t take their eyes off them.

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