Read Online Without Looking Back by Tabitha Suzuma - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tabitha Suzuma
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jealous!’
‘You don’t know the international dialling code—’
‘Yes I do.’
‘Fine. Then catch me up,’ Max said, turning his bike round and disappearing down the winding road.
It took several seconds for the long beeps to sound. As soon as Pierre answered, a row of zeros began flashing on the display, the phone demanding to be fed again.
‘
Ouais
?’ Pierre’s voice sounded very distant.
‘It’s Louis – guess where I am?’
‘What’s going on? Where are you?’
‘England! Papa took us on holiday. We’re in a place called the Lake District, it’s really cool, I’m not coming back to school till Monday—’
A series of loud beeps muffled the sound of Pierre’s voice. Then the line went dead. Louis hung up, disgusted that the phone had swallowed up a whole pound in a matter of seconds. Then he straddled his bike again, pumping the pedals furiously to catch up with Max.
The late-afternoon sun was beginning to turn golden and touch the tops of the trees. They left the town behind them and Max set the pace, taking a winding road that led down towards the lake. It stretched out like a vast sheet of turquoise glass, the warm sun giving it a golden hue. Dramatic peaks towered all around them beneath a vast white sky. The wind blew strong,whipping tears from their eyes. Louis stood up on his pedals, looking out across the water. Ahead of him, Max skidded to a halt on the stony verge, threw his bike down on the grass and looked down at the jagged hillside. ‘Reckon we could climb down there?’
Louis laid his bike down and tested the ground with his foot. It felt reasonably firm. ‘Don’t see why not.’
They began their descent, turning sideways and digging the edges of their trainers into the earth, using their hands to stay balanced, and for a while the only sound was the scrabbling of feet and the rasping of breath, until Louis reached the bottom first and splodged through the wet mud at the edge of the lake. Moments later, Max followed him, and the two of them stood looking out across the vast expanse of water. The wind had dropped, and apart from the lazy chirping of a swallow, the air was eerily still.
Max bent down to look for stones, his cheeks flushed pink from their hasty descent. He found some flattish ones and began skimming them one by one across the water.
Louis picked up a stone and tried to skim it too, but it only disappeared with an irritating plop. ‘Why can’t I do it?’
‘You need to get flat ones, like this.’ Max handed hima stone. ‘Then imagine you’re throwing a tiny little frisbee. Like this . . .’ The stone skimmed the water three times.
Louis tried, with a disappointing result. ‘Pfff.’
‘Nearly,’ Max said. ‘Try again. But turn your hand inwards when you throw, like this.’ He demonstrated.
Louis tried again. A sort of half-skim, before the stone disappeared again.
‘Better,’ Max said encouragingly.
Louis bent down to look for some more flat stones as Max skimmed another across the ripples.
Louis had another go. This time there was a definite skim. ‘Whoa!’ he exclaimed.
Max threw another stone and said, ‘So what d’you think about the farmhouse?’
Louis glanced at him. ‘It’s a bit run down but I like it.’
There was a pause. Then Max suddenly said, ‘Dad’s not coming back to France – you know that, don’t you.’
Louis felt his heart judder. He looked sharply at Max. ‘How d’you know?’
‘It’s obvious,’ Max said, sounding as if he didn’t really care. ‘Dad might have savings but he’s not that rich. He wouldn’t be going to all this trouble to furnish the house if he was only going to use it for the holidays.’
‘You mean you think he’s going to live here?’
‘Of course,’ Max said.
Louis felt his eyes narrow. ‘You don’t know that,’ he tried.
Max shot him an exasperated look. ‘Oh, come
on
.’
‘OK,’ Louis reluctantly agreed. ‘So maybe he is planning to stay here for a bit.
‘You don’t know the international dialling code—’
‘Yes I do.’
‘Fine. Then catch me up,’ Max said, turning his bike round and disappearing down the winding road.
It took several seconds for the long beeps to sound. As soon as Pierre answered, a row of zeros began flashing on the display, the phone demanding to be fed again.
‘
Ouais
?’ Pierre’s voice sounded very distant.
‘It’s Louis – guess where I am?’
‘What’s going on? Where are you?’
‘England! Papa took us on holiday. We’re in a place called the Lake District, it’s really cool, I’m not coming back to school till Monday—’
A series of loud beeps muffled the sound of Pierre’s voice. Then the line went dead. Louis hung up, disgusted that the phone had swallowed up a whole pound in a matter of seconds. Then he straddled his bike again, pumping the pedals furiously to catch up with Max.
The late-afternoon sun was beginning to turn golden and touch the tops of the trees. They left the town behind them and Max set the pace, taking a winding road that led down towards the lake. It stretched out like a vast sheet of turquoise glass, the warm sun giving it a golden hue. Dramatic peaks towered all around them beneath a vast white sky. The wind blew strong,whipping tears from their eyes. Louis stood up on his pedals, looking out across the water. Ahead of him, Max skidded to a halt on the stony verge, threw his bike down on the grass and looked down at the jagged hillside. ‘Reckon we could climb down there?’
Louis laid his bike down and tested the ground with his foot. It felt reasonably firm. ‘Don’t see why not.’
They began their descent, turning sideways and digging the edges of their trainers into the earth, using their hands to stay balanced, and for a while the only sound was the scrabbling of feet and the rasping of breath, until Louis reached the bottom first and splodged through the wet mud at the edge of the lake. Moments later, Max followed him, and the two of them stood looking out across the vast expanse of water. The wind had dropped, and apart from the lazy chirping of a swallow, the air was eerily still.
Max bent down to look for stones, his cheeks flushed pink from their hasty descent. He found some flattish ones and began skimming them one by one across the water.
Louis picked up a stone and tried to skim it too, but it only disappeared with an irritating plop. ‘Why can’t I do it?’
‘You need to get flat ones, like this.’ Max handed hima stone. ‘Then imagine you’re throwing a tiny little frisbee. Like this . . .’ The stone skimmed the water three times.
Louis tried, with a disappointing result. ‘Pfff.’
‘Nearly,’ Max said. ‘Try again. But turn your hand inwards when you throw, like this.’ He demonstrated.
Louis tried again. A sort of half-skim, before the stone disappeared again.
‘Better,’ Max said encouragingly.
Louis bent down to look for some more flat stones as Max skimmed another across the ripples.
Louis had another go. This time there was a definite skim. ‘Whoa!’ he exclaimed.
Max threw another stone and said, ‘So what d’you think about the farmhouse?’
Louis glanced at him. ‘It’s a bit run down but I like it.’
There was a pause. Then Max suddenly said, ‘Dad’s not coming back to France – you know that, don’t you.’
Louis felt his heart judder. He looked sharply at Max. ‘How d’you know?’
‘It’s obvious,’ Max said, sounding as if he didn’t really care. ‘Dad might have savings but he’s not that rich. He wouldn’t be going to all this trouble to furnish the house if he was only going to use it for the holidays.’
‘You mean you think he’s going to live here?’
‘Of course,’ Max said.
Louis felt his eyes narrow. ‘You don’t know that,’ he tried.
Max shot him an exasperated look. ‘Oh, come
on
.’
‘OK,’ Louis reluctantly agreed. ‘So maybe he is planning to stay here for a bit.
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