Read Online Charlie Bone and The Blue Boa (Children Of The Red King, Book 3) by Jenny Nimmo - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jenny Nimmo
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all came pouring out: Blessed's tail, the flying sparks, shape-shifting Belle, and the horrible battle he'd just witnessed.
Cook wiped her pink brow with the hem of her apron and sat beside Billy. She looked worried but not surprised.
"So it's her," she muttered. "I knew there was something not right about that girl. But whatever possessed Samuel Sparks to come here?"
"He came to find his little brother," Billy told Cook.
"Ollie Sparks? Is he still here, then?" Cook seemed very surprised.
"Yes. That's what the old woman said. And she said no one would ever find him."
"Oh, my goodness. Where've they hidden the poor boy? I was always worried about him. What's he been eating? If only I'd known."
"Do you think they're starving him?" said Billy
"Oh, I hope not, Billy Dear, oh dear. What's to be done?" Cook got up and straightened her apron. "I advise you not to eat all of that cake, Billy When you and the rat have had what you want, I'll come and put the rest away for next weekend."
As Cook made her way toward the kitchen, Billy called out. "I know people think I'm a spy but I won't tell Manfred or Mr. Ezekiel about what I saw I promise."
Cook turned and looked at Billy "I'm sure they know already As for you being a spy I don't blame you, Billy One day you'll get the parents you want; if the Bloors don't see to it, then I will. But right now I'd better go and find the poor dog that's lost its tail."
As Cook hurried up the corridor of portraits, a cold draft rushed around her ankles. This meant that the main doors had been opened. She reached the hall in time to see a figure slip through the doors before Mr. Weedon slammed them shut.
"Who was that?" asked Cook.
"What's it to you?" said Weedon sourly
Cook drew back her shoulders and said, "I asked a civil question. The least you could do is to give me a civil answer."
"Ooo!" mocked Weedon. "Hoity-toity!"
“Are you going to tell me?" asked Cook.
"No." Weedon bolted the doors and walked off.
Cook, who was extremely intuitive, knew another victim had been led into a trap. And from what Billy had told her, she could guess who that victim was.
She was right.
Mr. Boldova, carrying a suitcase, walked across the courtyard and under the arch between the two towers of Bloor's Academy He descended the steps into the cobbled square, and there his gaze was drawn to the fountain of stone swans in the center. The cascade of water glowed gold in the last rays of the sun.
Mr. Boldova frowned. Why was he here? Where was he going? Who was he?
A black car pulled up at the other end of the square. The driver, a gray-haired woman, beckoned to Mr. Boldova. He walked over to her.
"Can I give you a lift?" asked the woman.
"Er . . . " Mr. Boldova scratched his head. "I don't know where I'm going."
"I do," said the woman. "I'm clairvoyant. Jump in, Samuel."
"I'm not sure . . .”
"Do hurry up. We haven't got all day have we?" The woman's laughter was cold and shrill. "My name's Eustacia, by the way"
Mr. Boldova passed a hand over his eyes. There didn't seem to be anywhere else to go. He walked around the car and got into the passenger seat. There was something he ought to do next, but what?
"Forget the seat belt!" Eustacia gave another wild laugh, and the car roared off at an alarming speed.
At first break, on Monday morning, when Charlie and Fidelio were hanging their capes in the blue coat-room, Billy Raven came in with a bulge under his sweater. The bulge moved and Charlie asked Billy what he was hiding.
"Nothing," said Billy turning pink.
"Come on, Billy It can't be nothing," said Fidelio. "It squeaked."
Billy was about to deny this when the head of a black rat appeared at the top of his sweater.
"That's Rembrandt," said Charlie. "What are you doing with him?"
Billy pouted, and then he mumbled, "Mr. Boldova gave him to me."
"I bet he didn't," said Charlie.
Billy rushed out and ran along to the garden door, with Charlie and Fidelio in pursuit.
"It's OK, Billy" Charlie
Cook wiped her pink brow with the hem of her apron and sat beside Billy. She looked worried but not surprised.
"So it's her," she muttered. "I knew there was something not right about that girl. But whatever possessed Samuel Sparks to come here?"
"He came to find his little brother," Billy told Cook.
"Ollie Sparks? Is he still here, then?" Cook seemed very surprised.
"Yes. That's what the old woman said. And she said no one would ever find him."
"Oh, my goodness. Where've they hidden the poor boy? I was always worried about him. What's he been eating? If only I'd known."
"Do you think they're starving him?" said Billy
"Oh, I hope not, Billy Dear, oh dear. What's to be done?" Cook got up and straightened her apron. "I advise you not to eat all of that cake, Billy When you and the rat have had what you want, I'll come and put the rest away for next weekend."
As Cook made her way toward the kitchen, Billy called out. "I know people think I'm a spy but I won't tell Manfred or Mr. Ezekiel about what I saw I promise."
Cook turned and looked at Billy "I'm sure they know already As for you being a spy I don't blame you, Billy One day you'll get the parents you want; if the Bloors don't see to it, then I will. But right now I'd better go and find the poor dog that's lost its tail."
As Cook hurried up the corridor of portraits, a cold draft rushed around her ankles. This meant that the main doors had been opened. She reached the hall in time to see a figure slip through the doors before Mr. Weedon slammed them shut.
"Who was that?" asked Cook.
"What's it to you?" said Weedon sourly
Cook drew back her shoulders and said, "I asked a civil question. The least you could do is to give me a civil answer."
"Ooo!" mocked Weedon. "Hoity-toity!"
“Are you going to tell me?" asked Cook.
"No." Weedon bolted the doors and walked off.
Cook, who was extremely intuitive, knew another victim had been led into a trap. And from what Billy had told her, she could guess who that victim was.
She was right.
Mr. Boldova, carrying a suitcase, walked across the courtyard and under the arch between the two towers of Bloor's Academy He descended the steps into the cobbled square, and there his gaze was drawn to the fountain of stone swans in the center. The cascade of water glowed gold in the last rays of the sun.
Mr. Boldova frowned. Why was he here? Where was he going? Who was he?
A black car pulled up at the other end of the square. The driver, a gray-haired woman, beckoned to Mr. Boldova. He walked over to her.
"Can I give you a lift?" asked the woman.
"Er . . . " Mr. Boldova scratched his head. "I don't know where I'm going."
"I do," said the woman. "I'm clairvoyant. Jump in, Samuel."
"I'm not sure . . .”
"Do hurry up. We haven't got all day have we?" The woman's laughter was cold and shrill. "My name's Eustacia, by the way"
Mr. Boldova passed a hand over his eyes. There didn't seem to be anywhere else to go. He walked around the car and got into the passenger seat. There was something he ought to do next, but what?
"Forget the seat belt!" Eustacia gave another wild laugh, and the car roared off at an alarming speed.
At first break, on Monday morning, when Charlie and Fidelio were hanging their capes in the blue coat-room, Billy Raven came in with a bulge under his sweater. The bulge moved and Charlie asked Billy what he was hiding.
"Nothing," said Billy turning pink.
"Come on, Billy It can't be nothing," said Fidelio. "It squeaked."
Billy was about to deny this when the head of a black rat appeared at the top of his sweater.
"That's Rembrandt," said Charlie. "What are you doing with him?"
Billy pouted, and then he mumbled, "Mr. Boldova gave him to me."
"I bet he didn't," said Charlie.
Billy rushed out and ran along to the garden door, with Charlie and Fidelio in pursuit.
"It's OK, Billy" Charlie
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