Читать книгу Forest Shadows - David Laing - Страница 8

FRIDAY

Jars and Snook Kelly, along with the other year ten students, filed into class and then found their seats. It was history, the first lesson after lunch. Miss Sweetman, their teacher, was writing on the whiteboard. She stopped and turned to face the class, but before she could say anything, the brown speaker that jutted from high on the wall at the front of the room, crackled and came to life. The teacher scowled. She wished the darn thing had never been installed.

‘Good afternoon, everyone,’ it blared. As usual, it was the school secretary, Mrs Cherry. ‘The principal would like to see the Kelly children in his office straightaway. Jacinta Kelly, Snook Kelly, please make your way to Mr Twichette’s office now. Thank you.’

A buzz went through the room and Jars and Snook, who were sitting near to each other, exchanged glances. Snook gave his what did I do now look. Jars shrugged. She didn’t know either.

‘Quiet everyone. Settle down.’ Miss Sweetman glared at the class. Her insistence on law and order in her classes was legendary. Still holding the whiteboard marker, she waved it towards the Kellys. ‘Okay, you two; you heard. Off you go.’

Despite the teacher’s words, muffled whispers and twitters weren’t far behind as Jars and Snook walked out the door into the corridor.

‘What do you reckon’s goin’ on?’ Snook said as they stepped outside. They made their way across the school quadrangle past the junior school swings and sandpits. ‘Do you reckon we’re in trouble or somethin’? If we are, I dunno why.’ They stepped off the asphalt surface and climbed the few steps that led to the office block and the principal’s office.

Jars shrugged and spread her arms. ‘Not that I know of. Unless you’ve done something I don’t know about. You haven’t been fighting or playing practical jokes lately, have you?’

‘Nah, nothin’ like that. Just the usual. Teachers gettin’ cranky about not doin’ my homework assignments, bein’ late for lessons, talkin’ too much. Stuff like that.’

Jars sighed. Yes, that was her cousin all right, always getting on the bad side of his teachers. He wasn’t cruel or nasty. Far from it. When it was important, when it mattered, he knew right from wrong. As strange as it may sound, that was his downfall. When it came to giving his point of view, all tact and all niceties flew out the window. And if he was wronged then, quite simply, he’d pull out all stops to put it right – even the score, so to speak. And sometimes that got him into trouble. But for all his faults, deep down Snook was a soft touch, who’d help anyone if he could – except himself, that is.

‘Anyway, we’ll soon find out what he wants,’ Jars said, pushing against the office block door and pointing towards another door with a sign that read: ‘Mr Twichette, Principal.’

Snook shoved past her. ‘Yeah, but whatever it is, I betcha it ain’t nothin’ good.’