Читать книгу Catch Your Death - Lauren Child - Страница 13

RUBY HAD BEEN OUT AT MOUNTAIN RANCH CAMP on and off, travelling back and forth, for approximately a month and her survival skills were coming along. She and Holbrook passed all their practical tests without a hint of trouble.

Ruby was determined to excel and in a few short weeks had got as knowledgeable as Holbrook ever was, and Holbrook was no slouch. She felt satisfied that she knew the theory of survival, back to front and top to bottom; she was competitive and she was a hard worker, but no matter how much work she put in, Sam Colt would always say the same thing: ‘Redfort, you’re getting stuck on detail and it’s making you miss the whole big picture.’

Skills that involved patience were not a problem for Ruby Redfort: patience was a virtue she had been born with. She could contentedly sit and wait for single drips of rainwater to fill a drinking glass if this was what it took. She could build a shelter that was really pretty comfortable and light a fire within about ten minutes. With all these tasks, she understood the need for patience and perseverance. This determined attitude was of great benefit to her since patience and perseverance were pretty essential virtues when it came to the tasks of survival.

Strength wasn’t a big problem either; sure, she wasn’t as strong as some of her co-trainees – she was, after all, only thirteen – but what she might have lacked in sheer brute strength she made up for with her technique, learning how to move heavy logs and branches, rocks and earth by rolling, balancing, pivoting. All this theory she stored in her head, confident she had the information squirrelled away for that time when it might save her life.

However, as good as Ruby was at these practical tasks, and although she had read and stored about as much knowledge as any survivalist, she couldn’t seem to convince Sam Colt that she was able to tune herself into the wild itself.

‘There are some things that ain’t in any book Redfort.’ He paused. ‘It’s like my pal, Bradley Baker, used to say: “Sometimes the best way to think about a problem is not to think about it.”’

Talking to any outsider about Spectrum was strictly forbidden, but despite this hard and fast rule there was one person who did know about Ruby’s double life and his name was Clancy Crew. Clancy was Ruby’s closest friend and most loyal ally; he could sniff out a secret at a hundred paces and it had taken him no time at all to discover something was up and even less time to get Ruby to spill the beans.

Ruby had broken a pretty big Spectrum rule here, Spectrum rule number one being keep it zipped, but on the other hand, telling Clancy Crew she was an undercover agent was like confessing to a priest or a doctor: the information would go no further. Clancy Crew never, ever told: he was like a human vault. Dangle Clancy over a river full of piranha and he would never say a single word; every last finger would have disappeared before he even began to open his mouth.

Ruby wished she could talk to Clancy at length about what her trainer considered a gap in her ability, but Clancy was away with his father on some lengthy ambassadorial tour and so they had only managed a few snatched phone conversations. It wasn’t enough time to go into any detail, to really explain to Clancy how she felt, how puzzled she was that her trainer thought she was in some way lacking in understanding. In any case, it wasn’t easy to explain anything on the phone and they mainly ended up discussing how mad Clancy was at his ambassador dad for getting him all dressed up in stupid blazers and ridiculous polished loafers.

‘What next?’ Clancy would whine. ‘Little tartan bow ties?’

On this, the final week of training, Ruby dialled Clancy’s number and hoped he would be there to pick up. She had just got home from school and was expected to dine with her parents and their friends the Humberts, before being helicoptered back out to the training camp: it made for a long day.

‘So how’s it going Rube?’ Clancy asked from his hotel room in Washington.

‘OK. I think I’m doing pretty well. I mean I know stuff, it’s just I don’t seem to know stuff,’ she replied.

‘I think I know what you mean,’ said Clancy, who did know what she meant: he was sharp at picking up on things that weren’t clear.

‘I just don’t know how to fix it,’ she said. ‘I mean my instructor says things to me like, “You need to throw away the handbook Redfort.” But why? Why do I wanna throw away the handbook?’

‘I think he’s talking about instinct Rube. You got a know the rules and then you got a forget the rules, you know?’

‘No,’ said Ruby.

It didn’t make any sense: she had spent thirteen years assembling a little book of life rules, a sort of guide to navigate her way through each and every day, so why would she ignore them now, just when her very survival was being put to the test?

Ruby thought about this as she travelled back to camp that evening.

It was true. She really didn’t understand what Clancy was trying to explain or what Samuel Colt was trying to tell her. The previous day Colt had sat her down and tried again to make her understand.

‘You got a learn to use your instincts,’ he said.

‘I use my instincts,’ countered Ruby.

‘No you don’t. You approach things like you’re reading a book of rules, like there’s one way, but out in the wild stuff changes a lot and everything can’t always be fixed the way you wanna fix it.’ Sam Colt looked at her, his eyes barely visible under the wide brim of his hat. ‘I’ve been around a long time and, if there’s one thing that nature’s taught me, it’s to never kid yourself that you’re in charge.’

Again she stared at him like this made no sense at all.

‘Don’t meet nature head on, walk alongside. Don’t try and control stuff, just go with what you got. It’s all about adapting to circumstances. Circumstances change, you change with ’em.’ He looked at her hard, trying to discern whether she had the faintest idea what he was talking about. ‘You can have your plans B, C and D, but they ain’t no good to you if nature decides otherwise.’

Colt wasn’t wrong about this; in fact, just six months ago, two Spectrum agents had perished after their tent had blown away in a blizzard and Colt couldn’t help wondering why two highly trained professionals had relied on something so flimsy out in such dangerous terrain where the elements ruled.

He lived day by day, hour to hour. ‘You can try and predict what might happen next, but don’t imagine it’s gonna come out that way just because you thought you’d like it to.’ The only certainty is there is no certainty was a sort of Samuel Colt mantra and his rule one, two and three: the rule he lived by.

The rule Ruby lived by was not unrelated. RULE 1: YOU CAN NEVER BE COMPLETELY SURE WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN NEXT. So why did she find this all so difficult? For the first time in her life, Ruby was failing. And she didn’t like it one bit.