Read Online Ribblestrop by Andy Mulligan - Free Book Online

it’ll be best if someone’s by when he comes round. Now, what I suggest—”
    â€œTwenty-one for supper, please, sir,” said Sanchez, under a pile of blankets.
    â€œTwenty-two, with Sam. Right . . .” He checked the boy’s pulse and lifted him into Millie’s arms. “He’ll be right as rain. Now wrap that round him and get him into bed. I’m going to talk to that woman, she wants taking away. We could have lost eyes, we could have had arteries cut. I’ve seen it! Friend of mine was in Londonderry when they let off a nail bomb—there’s some wounds you can’t stitch up.” He was back at the pastry, crimping merrily with a fork.
    â€œAre you a teacher or a chef?” said Millie. She’d managed to pass the sleeping Sam over to Sanchez, who was wrapping him as best he could on the trolley.
    â€œOh, bit o’ this, bit o’ that. Jack of all trades, master of none—I lend a hand where a hand is needed. I did most of the science tower with the headmaster.”
    â€œI’m Millie.”
    â€œWhen we’ve got more time I’ll tell you about the shrapnel I saw in Cyprus.”
    â€œWhat are you teaching us?” said Millie.
    â€œAnything you want,” said Captain Routon. “First thing tomorrow, practical geography. Walking boots compulsory.”
    â€œI don’t have any,” said Millie.
    â€œNor me,” said Sanchez. “I didn’t know.”
    â€œSchool shoes then,” said the captain. “Rule one, use what’s available. Now, listen, if the pain is too much, give me a call—we can knock him out somehow.”
    *
    â€œSanchez,” said Millie, as they pushed the trolley down one of Ribblestrop’s long corridors. “Is this really a school?”
    â€œYes,” said Sanchez.
    They had carried Sam out of the kitchen-cum-courtyard, up another set of steps made of fruit boxes. A plastic sheet concealed a doorway, where the stone was scorched black. Someone had hung some bulbs on a long, looping wire. It was a bright evening still, but no light got in here, because the windows were boarded over. The bulbs lit the way up a staircase.
    â€œIt’s a ruin,” said Millie. “It stinks.”
    â€œYes. We had a fire. A boy called Miles tried to kill everyone.”
    â€œCan you carry Sam? I’m going to drop him.”
    Sanchez took Sam again and they made their way to another door.
    â€œThis can’t be safe,” muttered Millie. “Look at it, it’s half underwater! They shouldn’t allow kids here.”
    â€œWhy not?” Sanchez looked baffled. “We make things better all the time. Me and Henry put the tarpaulins up, last term. This is the west tower; upstairs is our bedroom. It’s fine.”
    A winding staircase led upward.
    â€œWhat about this headmaster?” said Millie.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œHe’s insane, isn’t he?”
    â€œMillie, you’ve got it wrong—of course he’s not insane.”
    â€œHe was showing everyone Sam’s head! The kid was bleeding to death and he’s doing a lecture on . . . anatomy!”
    â€œYes, he takes the opportunity. He says that ‘Learning is about opportunities for experience,’ that’s what he does. I think he’s good.”
    Millie laughed. “I’ve just sewn up a boy’s head, in the school’s so-called kitchen. While I’m doing that, the teacher in charge of first aid and geography bakes a pie. Sam could have been killed.”
    â€œBut he’s fine. Open the door, please.”
    â€œIs it a swindle? He takes money from the government, spends nothing on our education, and walks off with millions. You must have people like that in Colombia.”
    Sanchez stopped. He adjusted Sam into a more comfortable position, hoisting him higher over his shoulder. “All I can say, Millie, is that I