Читать книгу The Wind Singer - William Nicholson - Страница 9

2

Kestrel makes a horrible friend

On getting to school, Bowman and Kestrel found they had forgotten to bring their homework.

‘Forgot?’ roared Dr Batch. ‘You forgot?’

The twins stood side by side at the front of the long classroom, facing their teacher. Dr Batch smoothed his hands over his substantial stomach, and ran the tip of his tongue over his substantial lips, and proceeded to make an example of them. Dr Batch liked making an example of his pupils. He considered it part of his job as a teacher.

‘Let’s begin at the beginning. Why did you forget?’

‘Our little sister had her first test this morning,’ said Bowman. ‘We left the house early, and we just forgot.’

‘You just forgot? Well, well, well.’

Dr Batch liked lame excuses.

‘Hands up,’ he said to the class, ‘hands up who else attended an infant test this morning.’

A dozen hands went up among the serried ranks of desks, including the hand of Rufy Blesh.

‘And hands up who else forgot their homework.’

All the hands went down again. Dr Batch turned to Bowman, his eyes popping out with friendly attention.

‘It seems you are the only ones.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Throughout this proceeding, Kestrel remained silent. But Bowman could hear the seething of her angry thoughts, and knew she was in one of her wild moods. Dr Batch, unaware of this, began to waddle up and down in front of them, conducting a ritual exchange with the class.

‘Class! What happens if you don’t work?’

Back came the familiar response from fifty-one young mouths.

‘No work, no progress.’

‘And what happens if you make no progress?’

‘No progress, no points.’

‘And what happens if you get no points?’

‘No points ends up last.’

‘Last.’ Dr Batch relished the word. ‘Last! La-a-ast!’

The whole class shivered. Last! Like Mumpo, the stupidest boy in the school. Some eyes turned furtively to look at him, as he sat glowering and shivering right at the back, in the seat of shame. Mad Mumpo, whose upper lip was always shiny with nose-dribble, because he had no mother to tell him to wipe it. Smelly Mumpo, who stank so badly that no one would ever go near him, because he had no father to tell him to wash.

Dr Batch waddled over to the class ratings board, on which every pupil’s name was written in class order. Every day, at the end of the day, the new points were calculated, and the new class order written up.

‘I shall deduct five points each,’ said Dr Batch. And there and then, he recalculated the class order. Bowman and Kestrel dropped two places, to twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth respectively, while the class watched.

‘Slipping, slipping, slipping,’ said Dr Batch as he made the changes. ‘What do we do when we find ourselves slipping down?’

The class chanted the response.

‘We strive harder, and reach higher, to make tomorrow better than today.’

‘Harder. Higher. Better.’ He turned back to Bowman and Kestrel. ‘You will not, I trust, forget your homework again. Take up your places.’

As they walked back down the rows of desks, Bowman could feel Kestrel seething with hatred, for Dr Batch, and the big ratings board, and the school, and all Aramanth.

It doesn’t matter, he thought to her. We’ll catch up.

I don’t want to, she replied. I don’t care.

Bowman came to a stop at the desk where they were now to sit, two places behind their old desks. But Kestrel went on, all the way to the back, where Mumpo sat. Beside Mumpo there was an empty place, because he was always bottom of the class. Here Kestrel sat down.

Dr Batch stared in astonishment. So did Mumpo.

‘Hallo-o,’ he said, breathing his stinky breath all over her.

Kestrel turned away, covering her face.

‘Do you like me?’ said Mumpo, leaning closer.

‘Get away from me,’ said Kestrel. ‘You stink.’

Dr Batch called sharply from the other end of the room.

‘Kestrel Hath! Go to your correct place at once!’

‘No,’ said Kestrel.

The whole class froze.

‘No?’ said Dr Batch. ‘Did you say no?’

‘Yes,’ said Kestrel.

‘Do you wish me to deduct five more points for disobedience?’

‘You can if you want,’ said Kestrel. ‘I don’t care.’

‘You don’t care?’ Dr Batch went a bright red. ‘Then I shall teach you to care. You’ll do as you’re told, or – ’

‘Or what?’ said Kestrel.

Dr Batch stared back, lost for words.

‘I’m already at the bottom of the class,’ said Kestrel. ‘What more can you do to me?’

For a moment longer, Dr Batch struggled with himself in silence, searching for the best way to respond. During this moment, in which the whole class held its breath, Mumpo shuffled closer still to Kestrel, and Kestrel twisted further away from him, screwing up her face in disgust. Dr Batch saw this, and the look of bewilderment on his face was replaced by a vindictive smile. He set off at a slow pace down the room.

‘Class,’ he said, his voice smoothly under control once more. ‘Class, turn and look at Kestrel Hath.’

All eyes turned.

‘Kestrel has found a new friend. As you see, Kestrel’s new friend is our very own Mumpo. Kestrel and Mumpo, side by side. What do you think of your new friend, Mumpo?’

Mumpo nodded and smiled. ‘I like Kess,’ he said.

‘He likes you, Kestrel,’ said Dr Batch. ‘Why don’t you sit closer? You could put your arm round him. You could hug him. He’s your new friend. Who knows, maybe in later years you’ll marry each other, and you can be Mrs Mumpo, and have lots of little Mumpo babies. Would you like that? Three or four little Mumpo babies to wash and wipe?’

The class tittered at that. Dr Batch was pleased. He felt he had regained the upper hand. Kestrel sat stiff as a rod and burned with shame and anger, and said nothing.

‘But perhaps I’m making a mistake. Perhaps Kestrel is making a mistake. Perhaps she simply sat down in the wrong seat, by mistake.’

He was close to Kestrel now, standing gazing at her in silence. Kestrel knew that he was offering her a deal: her obedience in exchange for her pride.

‘Perhaps Kestrel is going to get up, and go back to her correct place.’

Kestrel trembled, but she didn’t move. Dr Batch waited a moment longer, then hissed at her:

‘Well, well. Kestrel and Mumpo.What a sweet couple.’

All that morning, he kept up the attack. In the grammar lesson, he wrote up on the board:

NAME THE TENSES

Kestrel loves Mumpo

Kestrel is loved by Mumpo

Kestrel will love Mumpo

Kestrel has loved Mumpo

Kestrel shall have loved Mumpo

In the arithmetic lesson, he wrote on the board:

If Kestrel gives Mumpo 392 kisses and

98 hugs, and half the hugs are

accompanied by kisses, and one-eighth

of the kisses are slobbery, how many

slobbery kisses with hugs could

Kestrel give Mumpo?

And so it went on, and the class snickered away, as Dr Batch intended. Bowman looked back at Kestrel many times, but she just sat there, doing her work, not saying a word.

When time came for the lunch-break, he joined her as she walked quietly out of the room. To his annoyance, he found the dribbling Mumpo was coming with Kestrel, sticking close to her side.

‘Get lost, Mumpo,’ said Kestrel.

But Mumpo wouldn’t get lost. He simply trotted along beside Kestrel, his eyes never leaving her face. From time to time, unprompted, he would murmur, ‘I like Kess’, and then wipe his nose-dribble on to his shirt sleeve.

Kestrel was heading for the way out.

‘Where are you going, Kess?’

‘Out,’ said Kestrel. ‘I hate school.’

‘Yes, but Kess – ’ Bowman didn’t know what to say. Of course she hated school. Everyone hated school. But you had to go.

‘What about the family rating?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Kestrel. And walking faster now, she began to cry. Mumpo saw this, and was devastated. He skipped around her, reaching out his grubby hands to paw her, and uttered small cries designed to give her comfort.

‘Don’t cry, Kess. I’ll be your friend, Kess. Don’t cry.’

Kestrel brushed him away angrily.

‘Get lost, Mumpo. You stink.’

‘Yes, I know,’ said Mumpo humbly.

‘Kess,’ said Bowman, ‘come back to school, sit in your proper place, and Batch will leave you alone.’

‘I’m never going back,’ said Kestrel.

‘But you must.’

‘I’m going to tell pa. He’ll understand.’

‘And I will,’ said Mumpo.

‘Go away, Mumpo!’ shouted Kestrel, right in his face. ‘Go away or I’ll bash you!’

She raised a threatening fist. Mumpo dropped whimpering to his knees.

‘Hurt me if you want. I don’t mind.’

Kestrel’s fist remained suspended in mid-air. She stared at Mumpo. Bowman too was watching Mumpo. Suddenly he was caught unawares by the feeling of what it was like to be Mumpo. A dull cold terror rolled over him, and a penetrating loneliness. He almost cried out loud, so intense was the hunger for kindness.

‘She doesn’t mean it,’ he said. ‘She won’t hit you.’

‘She can if she wants.’

His face gazed adoringly up at her, his eyes now as shiny as his upper lip.

‘Tell him you won’t hit him, Kess.’

‘I won’t hit you,’ said Kestrel, dropping her fist. ‘You’re too stinky to touch.’

She turned and walked fast down the street, Bowman at her side. Mumpo followed a few paces behind. So that he wouldn’t hear, Kestrel talked to Bowman in her head.

I can’t go on like this, I can’t.

What else can we do?

I don’t know, she said. Something. Something soon, or I’ll explode.