Ribblestrop Forever! (3 page)

Millie, Miles and Sanchez were now all pressed together in the cockpit and Miles was still relaying information from the headset. Timmy Fox was alive, but hardly breathing. The
three terrified children watched as the fields rolled beneath them and the electricity pylons spread their cables inches under their wheels. Millie had pulled the craft upwards several times, but
for some reason it kept wanting to descend. She had worked out that the pedals on the floor stabilised them somehow and had got used to pressing them carefully.

They all knew the fuel supply was getting lower; the needle was even closer to the red. Millie slipped her phone back into her pocket and concentrated on the controls again. ‘There’s
some kind of river ahead,’ she said. ‘What if I aim for that? What if we go straight into the water?’

‘No,’ said Sanchez. ‘We’re going way too fast.’

‘You’re doing okay,’ said the voice in Miles’s ear. ‘We’re finding you an airfield. Now, if you—’

‘We keep going down, Sandra,’ said Miles. ‘Over.’

‘I think you may have a headwind. It’s decreasing your speed and your trimmer needs adjusting.’

‘What’s a trimmer?’

‘It’s the adjustable flap at the back of the plane tail. It keeps you level, so the pilot has to compensate—’

‘I don’t know where the controls are! Can’t we just land? Please?’

‘Look for a wheel about the size of your hand. It’s between the two seats and it’s got a bumpy edge to it.’

Miles repeated her words and Sanchez located it. He leant behind Millie, so she was free to move the joystick.

‘Got it.’

‘Roll the front downwards. Nice and slow.’

Sanchez did so and the plane’s nose lifted. They felt a buffet of air and the plane tilted to the right and set off in a dramatic curve. They rose steadily, Millie doing her very best not
to scream. She played the joystick back and depressed one of the pedals. The curve grew dangerously tight. In the next minute they completed three-hundred and sixty degrees and were heading for the
water again. Millie pulled the nose back up and everyone sighed with relief.

‘Are we back on course?’ said Sanchez.

‘What is the course?’ said Millie. ‘Where are trying to get to? Are you sure we shouldn’t just ditch? We can all swim.’

‘Listen carefully,’ said the voice in Miles’s ear. ‘I’m going to teach you how to decrease your speed. You have to do it very gently, and you keep your eyes on the
air speed indicator. That will tell you if there’s any danger of a stall. ’

‘Right,’ said Miles.

‘You’ve got nothing to worry about if—’

There was a silence.

‘Hello?’ said Miles. He could hear a strange pulsing noise.

‘—in the first instance, can you do that?’

‘What?’

There was silence again.

‘Tell me what to do, Miles!’ said Millie.

‘I’m not hearing you,’ said Miles. ‘Can you repeat what you just said? Over, please.’

The pulsing turned into a crackling and, when it returned, the voice was furred over in static.

‘—indicator to the top of the control . . . intensify all exification . . . can you . . . hello?’

‘What?’

‘Are you there, Miles? Come in, Miles – are you there? Over.’

‘I’m here. You’re breaking up!’

‘Is somebody using a cellphone? If someone—’

Sure enough, he could hear the ringtone of Millie’s mobile, getting louder and louder. The voice of the controller disappeared in static and some of the needles seemed to be flicking
abruptly backward and forward.

Millie snatched out her phone and clicked it open. ‘Sam?’ she said. ‘Where are you?’

‘It’s Oli, actually. We’re in a car on the motorway. Where are you?’

‘Oh God, Oli, we’re in a bad situation. We’re in a plane. We’ve lost the pilot. We’re about to run out of fuel and we don’t know what to do.’

‘Millie!’ said Miles. ‘The phone’s screwing up the controls!’

‘What kind of plane?’ said Oli.

Millie pressed the phone to her ear. ‘What?’ she cried. ‘What do you mean, “What kind of plane?”? A little plane, with wings, and a tail, with us inside
it—’

‘Are you red and white, by any chance? One propeller, just going over a river?’

‘Yes! Shut up, Miles! Oli, I don’t know—’

‘You’re just to our right. We can see you. I’ll tell Sam to wave.’

Millie looked down, trying frantically to remember her right from her left. The river ran next to a dual carriageway and, though the vehicles on it were small, they were getting larger every
second. Again, Millie realised that, through no fault of her own, the plane was descending. She eased the joystick back and this time nothing seemed to be happening. There were more pylons ahead
and a great spider’s web of cable. A power station was looming with red, winking lights.

‘We’re going down,’ she said.

‘Turn the wretched phone off!’ shouted Miles. ‘Turn the bloody phone off!’

‘No!’

A little red car was speeding along in the outside lane, and Millie fixed her eyes onto it, easing the plane closer. It was hard to be sure, but something black appeared to be flapping out of
the rear window and a tiny face was gazing up at her. There was a new sound now in the cockpit – and it chilled everyone to the very bone. A bell was ringing, one urgent chime at a time, as
if sounding the ominous arrival of midnight. It didn’t stop at twelve, though; in fact, it showed no sign of stopping at all.

‘Fuel!’ shouted Miles. ‘Oh my God, look at the fuel gauge! Help us, Sandra! Where are you?’

He put his finger over the needle and the three children saw that it was well into the red It twitched as they stared, and dropped further to the left.

‘We’re going to have to land,’ whispered Sanchez. ‘Swing her to the road, Millie.’

‘What do you mean, “Swing her to the road”? You think I can—’

‘You’re at the controls?’ said Oli’s voice, right in her ear. ‘Are you flying that thing, Millie?’

‘Yes! Of course I am!’

‘Okay, it’s easy – I had a radio-controlled version. You’ve got to take the rudder to the right, that means right foot down, nice and gentle. That’s the yaw
control. Then you’re probably going to need some upward thrust if you’re losing speed.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Right foot down a little. Yes! You’re coming in! Beautiful.’

‘We’re going to land on the road,’ said Miles to the mouthpiece. All he heard was static and the chiming bell. More pylons came under them and all three closed their eyes,
waiting for their undercarriage to be chopped away. It didn’t happen, but they were far lower than ever before. The engine was beginning to splutter. They came over the road and tried to
follow it – but the plane had a mind of its own now, and a breeze seemed to lift and push it over the top of the red car, and they were heading straight for a concrete cooling tower.

‘Go right!’ shouted Oli.

Sanchez said, ‘Look. There’s an emergency fuel switch. Shall I press it?’

Millie and Miles had their eyes closed, however, and for the first time in his life, Miles was saying a prayer.

The orphans were watching the plane too and most now had their hands over their mouths.

They were in their school uniforms again, for the black-and-yellow tracksuits were in a laundry basket. Circus Ribblestrop was all in the past and Professor Worthington – who had rounded
them up at the airport terminal – had insisted that everyone travel looking smart and ready for an exciting new term. It had been an emotional reunion, of course; Doonan had come up on the
bus with Tomaz and Imagio. Caspar Vyner had not been allowed, unfortunately, for Lady Vyner’s hatred of the school had been rising as Monday morning came closer, and he was locked in his
room. Henry was making his own way down, but they were still a large party.

‘I want you to stay together,’ Professor Worthington had called. ‘I want blazers buttoned and ties straight.’

She’d led the gaggle of excited children through the crowds and out to the car park. Captain Routon had been waiting for them with drinks and sandwiches, so there were more hugs and
handshakes. As they pulled onto the road, his ears were ringing from the third rendition of the school song. He inched forward carefully, for the bus was towing a long trailer carrying the
boys’ luggage and equipment.

As they came towards Bristol, he became aware that the traffic was slowing on both sides of the carriageway. He saw at once what the cause was: a light aircraft was in difficulty. In fact, it
was on collision course, and he touched the brake instinctively, almost in sympathy. Sanjay and Anjoli both cried out and pointed, and within a moment everyone was crammed against the windows,
following the course of the troubled little plane. The singing had died and there were five seconds of agonising silence.

‘Go up, man!’ whispered Sanjay.

The plane was heading straight for a wall of concrete. Then, at the very last second, it seemed whoever was flying it woke up and pulled the craft upwards. It seemed to clip the top and then it
rose like a rocket. It couldn’t stop rising, in fact. It hit vertical and then doubled back on itself in a remarkable loop-the-loop, clearing the top of the power station and banking steeply
round as if it wanted to do the whole thing again. It swept behind the bus and the orphans rushed to the back seats to follow its course.

Kenji, one of the youngest orphans, was crushed against the window and was astonished to see a little red car accelerating towards them. There was a boy leaning out of the window waving a
black-and-gold blazer in the jet stream.

That boy was Sam.

‘We’ve got more fuel!’ shouted Sanchez. ‘Well done, Millie.’

‘It was you,’ gasped Millie. Her face was white. ‘Sanchez, you saved us! It must be some kind of injection system. Oh God, Oli . . . Miles has been sick.’

Miles was wet with sweat, clutching the arm of Millie’s seat. He had dropped the headset and was blinking in amazement.

‘Millie, you’re still there?’ said Oli.

‘Yes!’

‘Okay. The best thing you can do is come round again and land on the road. Sam’s dad is going to slow down a bit and try to hold the traffic back. Do you want to try an
approach?’

‘I don’t know if I can.’

‘Oli,’ said Ruskin, staring upwards, ‘I might be wrong, but . . . I don’t think they’ve got both wheels anymore.’

‘What do you mean? Who hasn’t?’

‘The plane. Look at it!’

Ruskin was kneeling on the back seat, peering through the window. He rubbed his glasses and grew more positive. One of the plane’s wheels had dropped off completely and the other was at a
strange angle. The aircraft tilted right and the wheel he was watching sheered off and dropped like a bomb. It was suddenly bouncing along the road so fast that it overtook the car.

‘Can they land without wheels?’ he said. ‘They’ve lost both.’

‘Millie,’ said Oli, ‘you’ve lost your undercarriage.’

‘What does that mean?’ said Millie. ‘Was that the bump we felt? I thought we’d hit something!’

‘Come in, Miles!’ said a small voice from the headset. ‘Please come in! Over!’

Millie gripped the phone tighter. ‘What can we do, Oli?’

‘If you try to land, you’ll just dig into the road and . . . you’ll either burst into flames or you’ll start cartwheeling over the tarmac. Either way, you won’t
survive. I was looking at the map earlier and I know we go over the River . . .’

‘Oli, please!’

‘Hold on, Millie. Jake!’ he hissed. ‘Who’s in that bus? Why are they staring at us?’

Sam had noticed too. The rear window of the vehicle ahead was filled with grinning faces and waving hands. One of them – Podma – had found a piece of paper and had written the words
Hello Sam!
in thick black crayon.

‘This is a stroke of luck,’ said Oli. ‘This could be just what we need. Excuse me, Mr Tack, can we pull alongside that bus, please?’

‘What bus?’ said Sam’s father. ‘I’m really not up to all this, you know.’

‘You’re doing fine, Dad – just put your foot down a bit.’

‘I don’t want silly games. Not on the road.’

‘I know, Dad—’

‘That bus with the trailer,’ said Oli. ‘Can you get round it?’

‘I don’t like overtaking, boys. We really should have stuck to the B-roads.’

‘It’s all clear,’ said Ruskin. ‘Just pull alongside and keep with it. This is so lucky.’

‘Oli,’ said Millie, again, ‘I don’t know how much longer we’ve got up here. What’s your plan?’

‘We’ve got an idea,’ said Oli.

‘Well, it better be a good one, all right? Only the best will do.’

‘Hmm,’ said Oli. ‘I’m going to hang up for a moment, okay? I’ll call again in a second, so keep the line open. You see the bus next to us? Purple and
blue?’

‘No. Yes!’

‘Great big trailer? We’re pretty sure Captain Routon’s at the wheel. So I’m going to give him a call now and see if he can help. Overtake us, Millie – that’s
the safest thing. Turn right and do a great big circle so you’re approaching again from behind. You’re going to have to land on the roof of the bus.’

‘Are you joking, Oli? Is that your idea of comedy?’

‘It’s a question of matching velocities. If you can dock the plane on the roof of the bus, the bus can decelerate at an appropriate speed. It’ll take a bit of nerve, I imagine,
but I can’t see any other way of getting you down safely.’

There was no reply. He heard a stifled sob and then the plane he was gazing at came over the car, lower than ever. It hovered and then swung gently away, gaining height.

Millie was doing just what she’d been told.

Captain Routon didn’t like to take a call when he was driving, but the ringing seemed so insistent. He put the phone to his ear and heard the excited voice of Sam
Tack.

‘Sam,’ he said. ‘Where are you, my boy? Everything okay?’

‘Just coming alongside you, actually, sir. Can you see me? Look right.’

Captain Routon looked down to his right and was delighted to see three smiling faces. The orphans were clogging the right-hand seats again, waving and calling. He took one hand from the steering
wheel and waggled his fingers. The traffic had picked up speed and he was aware of hooting behind.