Read Online Class Act by Debbie Thomas - Free Book Online Page B

he’d spent the morning in Smile-in-the-Aisle, showing Alf his bee earring. (Uncharged. Brian couldn’t trust even his best two-legged friend with his best six-legged one.)
    At last the garda closed his notebook. ‘Thanks for your time, folks. And don’t worry.’ He glanced at Florrie. ‘There’s bound to be a simple explanation. Alec probably went to stay with an aunt or a friend and – ahem – forgot to tell his parents.’ The sergeant didn’t look as if he’d fooled even himself. ‘I’m sure he’ll turn up very soon. Eh, Mrs Florris?’ She nodded in a noble, law-abiding way.
    But he didn’t. And for the rest of the morning it wasn’t only Brian who failed to concentrate. The class was one big fidget, twiddling its twenty-five pens and biting its fifty lips.
    When Florrie ran out of shout, she ordered them outside. ‘Four times round the yard.’ She was a great believer in physical pain to restore peace and order.
    But it did just the opposite. Peace and order would mean Unbeatable Pete coming first, like he always did in anything involving legs. Today he came fourth. When Mrs Florris yelled at him to pull his socks up – not easy, considering they were ankle-length – he looked at her in bewilderment. Then he bent forward, as if to do that very thing. But instead of reaching for his ankles, he sat cross-legged on the ground and rubbed his eyes.
    â€˜Get up at once!’ screeched the teacher. ‘Resting is not on the school curriculum. I will not have resting in my class.’
    At the end of school there were twice as many parents as usual at the gates. Word must have spread about Alec’s disappearance. Not as far as Number Six Hercules Drive, though; Dad was nowhere to be seen. Slinging his schoolbag over his shoulder, Brian hurried along the pavement, his nerves nibbling his insides. What if Alec’s kidnapper was here on High Street, lying in wait for another victim? What if he or she was disguised – as that sweet little lady going into the post office, for instance? She might look like Miss Emer Pipette, retired teacher and the secretary of Tullybun’s Small Fruits Appreciation Society, but perhaps beneath the strawberry headscarf and kindly smile lurked a ruthless child trafficker. Perhaps the real Miss Pipette had been kidnapped too.
    Hang on. Brian stopped. Who said Alec had been kidnapped? Maybe he’d run away from home and left a note.
    Dear Mum and Dad,
    You guys are boring. School’s boring. This whole lousy village is boring. I’m off to seek my brainy fortune.
    Your loving son, Al.
    No. If that was the case, Sergeant Poggarty wouldn’t have suggested Alec might have gone visiting and forgotten to tell his parents. It sounded as if the gardaí were clueless. But a person couldn’t just disappear like that, without someone seeing or hearing something, could they?
    Who better to ask than the man who watched Tullybun come and go? Brian hurried along High Street to Smile-in-the-Aisle.
    â€˜Aye Aye, Cap’n.’ Alf waved from the till.
    Mrs Clattery scowled as he dropped her packet of All-Bran to stand and salute. Brian saluted back.
    â€˜With you in a sec, Cap’n.’ Alf sat down again and scanned the packet. ‘Bit clogged up are you, Mrs C? All-Bran’s your man. You’ll be running like the Liffey in no time.’
    When she’d marched out, red as a pepper, Alf popped a ‘Till Closed’ sign across the conveyor belt and came out. ‘Heard about Alec? Dreadful business.’
    â€˜What do you know, Alf?’
    â€˜No more than you, I dare say. His mum was here this morning asking if I’d seen him in the shop over the weekend. She said he didn’t come down to breakfast Sunday morning. She thought he was having a lie-in. When he didn’t appear at lunch, she thought maybe he’d gone out early to meet one of his friends. It