Read Online The Kneebone Boy by Ellen Potter - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ellen Potter
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not been packed . . .
poosh
. . . the fact that Angela was not home . . .
poosh
. . . and wouldn’t Dad find it far more preferable to live in an exotic location than in dull old Little Tunks . . .
poosh, poosh, poosh
. . . and then—most horrible of all—maybe the police’s initial suspicions about Dad were true. Maybe he is a psycho who murdered Mum and now he’s abandoned his children. They stared at one another with quiet dread in their eyes.
Lucia was the first to let some of the air out of the balloons. “Dad would never just abandon us,” she said, her dark brows knitted.
“No. Of course he wouldn’t,” Max agreed.
Otto still looked grim, but he said, “When we see him, he’ll have something to answer for about this whole business.”
The other two quickly took up his righteous anger: “Ifhe hadn’t been in such a hurry to leave, he would have realized that it wasn’t Angela on the phone,” and “Wait until he hears what we’ve been through—he’ll feel awful.”
The balloons in their bellies gradually deflated and they began to feel the exhaustion of a most unusual day.
“You can’t imagine how badly I have to pee,” Max said.
“Not in here,” Lucia warned.
“Where then?”
“Pee in the canal,” Lucia said.
“That’s polluting,” Max said.
“Well, fish do,” Lucia said.
This argument went on for a few minutes.
“He can pee just outside the tree, if no one’s looking,” Otto said, sick of the argument. “I’ve got to go too.”
And so did Lucia, now that she thought about it. They stepped through the fountain of branches and waited until they were sure the coast was clear. Max and Otto went right away but Lucia just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t that she was fussy; it’s only that there are some things you just can’t force.
“I’ll need a restroom,” she said firmly.
“Ha! And where do you suppose the Princess Uzima found a restroom on the African plains?” Max said.
“Well, if there were nothing but scrub and gazelles in London, I’d pee in public as well,” she snapped back.
“You’re just being difficult,” Max said.
“Oh? What’s that then? A gazelle?” Lucia cried. It was pure luck that a man with a goatee had suddenly appeared on the canal path, heading their way.
“Well, where do you propose that we find a restroom?” Max asked.
“Ever heard of a pub, genius?” Lucia said.
Suddenly she felt her heart beating faster for no reason, so she knew that Otto was scared.
She looked at him and found that he was staring fixedly at the approaching man. She glanced at the man again. She didn’t like the way he was walking. It was too fast and too purposeful for a lonely promenade at night.
A shaft of lamplight lit his face briefly, but it was long enough for Lucia to see that she had been mistaken about the goatee. He didn’t have one. It was the swirling tattoos on his chin that had given that impression.
“Let’s go!” Lucia hissed.
“Oh, for goodness’ sakes, Lucia. Just wait till the man passes and
then
go pee,” Max said. “Tell her she’s being a git, Otto.”
But Otto was also staring at the tattooed man, who was now fast approaching. Max turned to look at the man too.
“Isn’t that—?” Max started.
The man started running towards them now.
“Move, Otto!” Lucia commanded.
“Stay right there, you filthy—” The tattooed man then said some really awful stuff that I won’t repeat. The Hardscrabbles were all so shocked that they didn’t move, which was the worst thing they could have done. The man barreled into Otto, lowering his head and smashing it so hard against Otto’s chest that Otto flew backwards, rightthrough the branches of the willow and into their makeshift hut. The man burst in after him and shoved Otto up against the tree trunk in the most brutal way.
“Leave him alone!” Lucia screamed as she and Max rushed up behind the man. She was too surprised for tears. There was only the
poosh
. . . the fact that Angela was not home . . .
poosh
. . . and wouldn’t Dad find it far more preferable to live in an exotic location than in dull old Little Tunks . . .
poosh, poosh, poosh
. . . and then—most horrible of all—maybe the police’s initial suspicions about Dad were true. Maybe he is a psycho who murdered Mum and now he’s abandoned his children. They stared at one another with quiet dread in their eyes.
Lucia was the first to let some of the air out of the balloons. “Dad would never just abandon us,” she said, her dark brows knitted.
“No. Of course he wouldn’t,” Max agreed.
Otto still looked grim, but he said, “When we see him, he’ll have something to answer for about this whole business.”
The other two quickly took up his righteous anger: “Ifhe hadn’t been in such a hurry to leave, he would have realized that it wasn’t Angela on the phone,” and “Wait until he hears what we’ve been through—he’ll feel awful.”
The balloons in their bellies gradually deflated and they began to feel the exhaustion of a most unusual day.
“You can’t imagine how badly I have to pee,” Max said.
“Not in here,” Lucia warned.
“Where then?”
“Pee in the canal,” Lucia said.
“That’s polluting,” Max said.
“Well, fish do,” Lucia said.
This argument went on for a few minutes.
“He can pee just outside the tree, if no one’s looking,” Otto said, sick of the argument. “I’ve got to go too.”
And so did Lucia, now that she thought about it. They stepped through the fountain of branches and waited until they were sure the coast was clear. Max and Otto went right away but Lucia just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t that she was fussy; it’s only that there are some things you just can’t force.
“I’ll need a restroom,” she said firmly.
“Ha! And where do you suppose the Princess Uzima found a restroom on the African plains?” Max said.
“Well, if there were nothing but scrub and gazelles in London, I’d pee in public as well,” she snapped back.
“You’re just being difficult,” Max said.
“Oh? What’s that then? A gazelle?” Lucia cried. It was pure luck that a man with a goatee had suddenly appeared on the canal path, heading their way.
“Well, where do you propose that we find a restroom?” Max asked.
“Ever heard of a pub, genius?” Lucia said.
Suddenly she felt her heart beating faster for no reason, so she knew that Otto was scared.
She looked at him and found that he was staring fixedly at the approaching man. She glanced at the man again. She didn’t like the way he was walking. It was too fast and too purposeful for a lonely promenade at night.
A shaft of lamplight lit his face briefly, but it was long enough for Lucia to see that she had been mistaken about the goatee. He didn’t have one. It was the swirling tattoos on his chin that had given that impression.
“Let’s go!” Lucia hissed.
“Oh, for goodness’ sakes, Lucia. Just wait till the man passes and
then
go pee,” Max said. “Tell her she’s being a git, Otto.”
But Otto was also staring at the tattooed man, who was now fast approaching. Max turned to look at the man too.
“Isn’t that—?” Max started.
The man started running towards them now.
“Move, Otto!” Lucia commanded.
“Stay right there, you filthy—” The tattooed man then said some really awful stuff that I won’t repeat. The Hardscrabbles were all so shocked that they didn’t move, which was the worst thing they could have done. The man barreled into Otto, lowering his head and smashing it so hard against Otto’s chest that Otto flew backwards, rightthrough the branches of the willow and into their makeshift hut. The man burst in after him and shoved Otto up against the tree trunk in the most brutal way.
“Leave him alone!” Lucia screamed as she and Max rushed up behind the man. She was too surprised for tears. There was only the
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