Read Online Voices in Stone by Emily Diamand - Free Book Online Page B

anything big business does. He says it’s really suspicious that the school and the hospital are down-playing it so much. He says that only proves something’s going on.”
    “It could just be that there really was nothing,” said Isis.
    Cally shook her head. “Gil says the mining company’s probably bought them off, or put pressure on somehow. He’s says they’ll get round the parents next, offering money or threatening them. His phone is set up to record every call he receives – that way he’ll have proof.”
    Isis didn’t say anything.
    “I’m sure Gil’s right,” said Cally defensively. “He knows a lot about this kind of thing.”
    “Yeah,” said Isis. She didn’t care what Gil knew.
     
    The school bell was ringing as Isis walked into her form room on Monday morning. She’d been dreading this moment since Friday – it had loomed over her weekend, turning everything into a countdown. She went the long way round the classroom to her desk, past the usual muddle and noise of everyone getting to their seats andsettling down. The route meant she could avoid Jess’s gang, but Jess still watched her the whole time.
    Isis sat down. Now she felt genuinely sick; she wouldn’t even be pretending if she said she was ill. She could put up her hand, tell Mrs Craven that she felt unwell. Jess was obviously planning something.
    Isis looked down at her desk, studying the patterns of scratches in the grey tabletop and trying to work out if feeling sick would be enough to get out of class. Maybe if she made a fuss, then went to the toilet and put her fingers down her throat? She’d never tried it, but everyone said…
    Mrs Craven was taking the register, calling names and ticking them off. She broke into a cough, which ended with a sneeze.
    Isis snapped her head up. Just behind Mrs Craven, a dirty cloud was dancing in slow spirals. The posters on the nearby wall began to crinkle around the edges as if soaking with damp, and by the time Mrs Craven finished the register they had all fallen onto the floor with papery slithers.
    “Oh!” said Mrs Craven, picking up the posters andcoughing again as she passed through Mandeville. He waved long fingers at Isis.
    Go away go away go away.
    But no amount of thinking would make him leave. He slid across the classroom, his arms and legs blurred at the edges. Softly he blended into the centre of Jess’s table, his upper body cut through by the plastic. The group of girls were talking, taking advantage of Mrs Craven’s distraction.
    Mandeville nodded at Jess and politely lifted his fez. There were only a few wisps of hair on his scalp and his skull gleamed white through his skin.
    “Your grandmother sends her best wishes,” he said to her.
    One of Jess’s friends sneezed, and another pulled the sleeves of her jumper down.
    Mandeville looked over at Isis, his eyes lit in blue as if closer than the rest of him.
    “Poor girl,” he said. “She can’t see or hear me, so she is left without the comfort she might gain from her grandmother’s love.”
    Isis pulled her bag onto her desk, opening it up andpretending to search for something inside. He wasn’t going to trick her again!
    The bell rang for the start of lessons, and Isis pushed to the door, wanting to get out as quickly as possible. She moved along the corridor as fast as she could without breaking into a run. She didn’t look back; she was focused on getting to the next classroom before anyone else. They had French, with Mrs Potter. Jess wouldn’t try anything on in there – Mrs Potter was known for sending people off to see the head. Isis was almost at the door of the classroom when she felt a hand tap her back.
    “Isis!” It was Jess.
    “Go away!” snapped Isis, not even looking round. Jess was probably wearing one of her nasty smiles and flanked by her little gang. But when Isis did turn, she saw Jess was on her own, breathing hard. Her eyes were wide, and she was chewing her lip.
    “I’m sorry,” Jess