Read Online Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London by Keith Mansfield - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Keith Mansfield
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stopped and took a last look at his room, with all its fabulous posters clinging to the sloping walls. Then he pushed the door shut above his head and went downstairs toward the back entrance. Miss Harutunian was coming out of the common room.
âHi, Johnny. I was just coming to see you. Are you OK?â
âYeahâjust taking Bentley for a walk,â Johnny replied.
âMrs. Irvine told me what happened. You want me to come alongâkeep you company?â Miss Harutunian started walking alongside Johnny toward the back door.
âNo itâs OK,â said Johnny, stopping still for a moment. âI think Iâd rather be alone. Goodbye.â He said it as forcefully as he could, but trying not to look rude.
âHeyâdonât say âgoodbye.â That means youâre going forever. You say âso long.ââ
âSorryâso long,â said Johnny.
âSo long, Johnny,â Miss Harutunian replied. She ruffled Johnnyâs blond hair, turned and walked away.
Johnny opened the back door, put the lead around Bentleyâs neck, picked up the football bag and, with his dog by his side, walked across the yard and out of the back gate. He closed it behind him, took a last look at Halader House and started jogging across the tarmac toward the railway station.
Johnny had decided on a way of traveling that would make his path harder to follow. At Castle Dudbury Station he just bought a single ticket into London and came out of Liverpool Street to stare at the Gherkin for as long as he felt was safe, which wasnât very long at all. He walked all the way round it. It was built so it curved away as you looked up; close to, you couldnât see the very topâjust swirling patterns of glass and steel reflecting the clear blue sky around it. There was only one way in, a giant entrance that looked like a letter âMâ on top with a matching âWâ beneath. Heâd have loved to walk through itâinside was a shiny silver statue that looked like an alien, but a security guard started paying him too much attention and he knew it was time to go. With Bentley beside him he was too conspicuous. Johnny retraced his steps back to Liverpool Street station, pausing outside an electrical store to watch a bit of the title decider on a TV in the shop window. It was Arsenal versus Manchester United. But he had a train to catch. He tore himself away, caught the tube to Waterloo and from there he bought a single ticket to Wexenham, the last stop on the line, rather than to Yarnton Hill itself.
It was hard staying out of sight with a large Old Englishsheepdog by your side, but Johnny thought heâd made a reasonable job of it and, as night fell, he slipped out of Yarnton Hill station, away from the small town center and out into some nearby fields. There werenât many streetlights in Yarnton Hill, but had someone been watching they would have been surprised to see what few there were go out as a young boy and his shaggy dog walked underneath them, only to turn back on once the distinctive pair had passed. Johnny was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice this happening. It had started to rain and he was feeling miserable. He was cold, wet, alone, frightened and missing the final of the Essex Under Thirteens Schools Cup which would take place the following day.
The next morning Johnny woke up to beeps coming from his sports bag and Bentley licking his face. He looked at his watchâit was 08:34 and his neck hurt. For a moment he thought his alarm clock must have gone off, but his bed was never this uncomfortable. He took in the rural scene around him and sussed that the beeping must be from the games console because the signal search was still running. âKovac,â he said sleepily. âShow results.â The screen on his console transformed into the graphic of the Earth with a pulsating dot above it.
âResults confirmed,â came
âHi, Johnny. I was just coming to see you. Are you OK?â
âYeahâjust taking Bentley for a walk,â Johnny replied.
âMrs. Irvine told me what happened. You want me to come alongâkeep you company?â Miss Harutunian started walking alongside Johnny toward the back door.
âNo itâs OK,â said Johnny, stopping still for a moment. âI think Iâd rather be alone. Goodbye.â He said it as forcefully as he could, but trying not to look rude.
âHeyâdonât say âgoodbye.â That means youâre going forever. You say âso long.ââ
âSorryâso long,â said Johnny.
âSo long, Johnny,â Miss Harutunian replied. She ruffled Johnnyâs blond hair, turned and walked away.
Johnny opened the back door, put the lead around Bentleyâs neck, picked up the football bag and, with his dog by his side, walked across the yard and out of the back gate. He closed it behind him, took a last look at Halader House and started jogging across the tarmac toward the railway station.
Johnny had decided on a way of traveling that would make his path harder to follow. At Castle Dudbury Station he just bought a single ticket into London and came out of Liverpool Street to stare at the Gherkin for as long as he felt was safe, which wasnât very long at all. He walked all the way round it. It was built so it curved away as you looked up; close to, you couldnât see the very topâjust swirling patterns of glass and steel reflecting the clear blue sky around it. There was only one way in, a giant entrance that looked like a letter âMâ on top with a matching âWâ beneath. Heâd have loved to walk through itâinside was a shiny silver statue that looked like an alien, but a security guard started paying him too much attention and he knew it was time to go. With Bentley beside him he was too conspicuous. Johnny retraced his steps back to Liverpool Street station, pausing outside an electrical store to watch a bit of the title decider on a TV in the shop window. It was Arsenal versus Manchester United. But he had a train to catch. He tore himself away, caught the tube to Waterloo and from there he bought a single ticket to Wexenham, the last stop on the line, rather than to Yarnton Hill itself.
It was hard staying out of sight with a large Old Englishsheepdog by your side, but Johnny thought heâd made a reasonable job of it and, as night fell, he slipped out of Yarnton Hill station, away from the small town center and out into some nearby fields. There werenât many streetlights in Yarnton Hill, but had someone been watching they would have been surprised to see what few there were go out as a young boy and his shaggy dog walked underneath them, only to turn back on once the distinctive pair had passed. Johnny was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice this happening. It had started to rain and he was feeling miserable. He was cold, wet, alone, frightened and missing the final of the Essex Under Thirteens Schools Cup which would take place the following day.
The next morning Johnny woke up to beeps coming from his sports bag and Bentley licking his face. He looked at his watchâit was 08:34 and his neck hurt. For a moment he thought his alarm clock must have gone off, but his bed was never this uncomfortable. He took in the rural scene around him and sussed that the beeping must be from the games console because the signal search was still running. âKovac,â he said sleepily. âShow results.â The screen on his console transformed into the graphic of the Earth with a pulsating dot above it.
âResults confirmed,â came
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