Read Online Ribblestrop by Andy Mulligan - Free Book Online Page A

was here last term—and yes, we had problems—but this is a good place.”
    â€œWell, it’s better than prison,” said Millie. “That’s where I thought I was going.”
    They were going through a low doorway now, which gave onto another, tighter spiral of steps. Sam gave a low whimper and struggled in his blanket. “I like it,” said Sanchez, after some time. “In Colombia, I was never at school.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI had one teacher only, okay? Teaching me everything. Here it’s the same: one teacher and he teaches everything, but there’s nice people. And now there’s more of us and I think we have more teachers. It’s normal for me, so—yes, I think it’s a good school. And you should stop running it down.”
    â€œWhere are we actually going?”
    â€œThe dormitory.”
    â€œWhose dormitory? Where do I sleep?”
    â€œMillie, just open the door.”

Chapter Seven
    â€œWhy don’t you damn well knock?” said a voice.
    â€œWho are you?” asked Millie.
    Caspar Vyner was sitting on a bed, a snarl of dislike twisting his face.
    Sanchez pushed past Millie. Sam was beginning to struggle and Sanchez could feel his weight. “Hello, Caspie,” he said, as he moved into the bedroom. “You shouldn’t be in here, man. This is our room.”
    â€œYou’re the one that’s trespassing. I own this house, remember? I was looking for your gun—is it true you have one?”
    They were high in the tower. The room was timber-paneled with five elegant windows. The park spread out around them, glorious in the sunset. Millie hadn’t realized how high they’d climbed. Five beds were set out like the spokes of a wheel, with five little lockers and five little rugs on the stone flagstones.
    â€œAnother thing, Sanchez. I’ve told you before—don’t call me Caspie .” He stood and moved to the wall. His voice was reedy with irritation.
    Sanchez laid Sam gently down on the nearest bed.
    â€œHang on a minute!” said Caspar. His eyes went from Sam to Millie. Back to Sam, then back to Millie. His nose lifted, as if he was trying to catch her scent. “Oh no. You’re the girl!” he shouted. “What on earth is a girl doing here? And in the boys’ room, that’s so not allowed!”
    Millie looked coolly at the child, her eyes narrowing with dislike. Caspar had a nasal voice; he was skinny, with bad skin, and his tufty hair didn’t seem to grow evenly. His school uniform was immaculate, but he had a wizened look, not unlike a little old man.
    â€œThat’s my bed!” said Caspar, looking at Sam again. “Move him to another one, Sanchez, I don’t want a dirty oik dying on my bed. Is that the one we hit? Full-on strike with a teapot! That was me!”
    â€œCaspar, you don’t even sleep here.”
    â€œI can sleep wherever I want. If I want that bed, it’s mine. And, look—answer me. What’s a girl doing up here? That is so against the rules—and you let her come in! You must be the weirdo girl that the government’s paying for. My granny knows all about you!”
    â€œWho is this?” said Millie, moving toward him.
    â€œCaspar Vyner,” said Sanchez.
    â€œ Lord Vyner, actually,” said the boy. “I inherit this place in eight years, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll damn well remember it.” He stood up and brought his right hand from behind his back. He had the flintlock pistol still, and the boy took great delight in cocking it and aiming with two hands straight at Millie’s face. Millie stood her ground. “How would you like to lose an eye? You will if you don’t get out.”
    â€œCaspar!” barked Sanchez. “You don’t do that!”
    â€œLook at her, she’s a scaredy!” laughed Caspar, stepping forward. “A little sissy