Breaking News

by Jacqueline Harvey

  Max collapsed into a fit of giggles. ‘You’re making that up!’

  ‘I wish I was,’ Gary said, shaking his head.

  ‘Derek is not what we would consider the sharpest tool in the shed,’ Song agreed. ‘But don’t worry, Mrs Grigsby will leave you alone when she realises you are with me. I take her dumplings whenever I am in London, though she always complains there are never enough. That is because she is very fat.’

  ‘That’s true. And why would you take her anything?’ Kensy asked, appalled.

  ‘Confucius says keep your friends close and your enemies closer,’ Song said, waving his steak knife in the air.

  Max cocked his head to one side. ‘I thought that was either Machiavelli or Sun Tzu or maybe it was from a movie.’

  Song pursed his lips. ‘Hmm, you are much too clever for an eleven-year-old,’ he said with mock displeasure.

  ‘I am too,’ Kensy told the table. ‘I beat Max in the spelling bee this year.’

  ‘I am in no doubt of that,’ Song said with a decisive nod. ‘You are twins, and twins are always as smart as one another. Except when one twin is much smarter and better looking.’

  Kensy glanced up sharply, ready to take exception, while her brother winked cheekily and said, ‘I know exactly what you mean.’

  Max had woken early, as usual. Through the open curtains, he lay in his bed watching the last of the stars fade and hoped they’d see some sun today. Endless hours of grey wasn’t good for anyone’s mood. He couldn’t help thinking that the convicts got the better deal being sent to Australia. At least there were blue skies most of the time – even in winter.

  Although the children did their best to convince Song they could make their own way to school, the butler insisted on tagging along. Besides, he argued, Wellie and Mac needed a walk.

  Kensy barrelled out the front door with Max behind her. She was still upset about the conversation she’d had with Song over breakfast. Another attempt to persuade him to take them to the Beacon offices to see Dame Spencer had failed. Kensy had tried every trick in the book and had even appealed to the man’s impeccable sense of decorum by reasoning that it would be rude to not meet the person who was so generously hosting them, but the butler had remained steadfastly evasive and promised nothing.

  Kensy looked up and was surprised to see the old woman with purple hair standing on the footpath opposite. She was sure it was the same person she’d seen doing flips and kicks yesterday afternoon. As Kensy had recalled, the woman’s back was bent and she was leaning heavily on her cane. She didn’t look as though she’d make it to the end of the road let alone put on an acrobatic display. Kensy tried not to stare in case the woman spotted her. She was still burning with embarrassment over having been caught spying.

  A noisy car coughed and rattled into the street, pulling up outside the old woman’s house.

  Max nudged his sister as a young man wearing a New York Yankees cap backwards, and with enough bling to light up the night sky, hauled himself out of the driver’s seat. ‘Do you think that might be Derek?’

  ‘You mean the genius with a “J”?’ Kensy quipped.

  The fellow’s outfit was pure gangster with low-riding jeans deliberately showcasing his underpants, high-top sneakers and a tight black T-shirt that was presumably designed to show off the wearer’s physique – except this guy’s muscles were well hidden under several layers of blubber.

  Song glanced across the road as he pulled the front door closed. ‘Hello Derek,’ he called, con firming the children’s suspicions.

  ‘Hiya Song,’ the man called back, his chains jangling. They clearly set Wellie and Mac’s nerves on edge, as both pups had begun a guttural growl. ‘Can you bring me mam some of your dumplins? They always put her in a better mood.’

  ‘I will see what I can manage,’ Song replied with a polite nod. He waved to the old woman with purple hair. ‘Good morning, Mrs Brightside.’

  She smiled and gave a friendly wave, wobbling dangerously on her cane. ‘Lovely to ’ave you back, Song darlin’. You must pop round for a cuppa.’

  ‘That is very kind of you to offer,’ Song said. He began to usher Kensy and Max, who were busy gawping at Derek’s car down the road. ‘Come along, children, we’d better get going.’

  The lad’s iridescent green hatchback bore little resemblance to its original manufactured shape, having been lowered almost to the ground with huge silver rims that barely fitted inside the wheel arches. The doors opened upwards like a fancy sports car, and the window tinting was so dark you couldn’t see inside, not to mention the whale tail on the back. Despite the obvious investment of cash, the car looked cheap and nasty, a lot like its owner.

  Kensy and Max did their best not to gawk, but Derek was the most fascinating creature they’d seen in days. He walked around to the back of the car and opened the hatch, which was lined with a blue tarpaulin – not at all in keeping with the exterior sparkle. It almost looked as if he’d been using the car to cart rubble. What was more interesting to Kensy, though, was that the old lady greeted the young man with a fair crack on the head with her handbag.

  ‘Where were you last night?’ she demanded.

  ‘Ow!’ Derek complained as the old woman grabbed him by the ear. ‘I was busy.’

  ‘Don’t you let me down again.’ Mrs Brightside pinched his arm for good measure, causing Derek to yelp for a second time. ‘We’re on a tight schedule, you moron.’

  Kensy giggled behind her hand. ‘What do you think that was about?’

  ‘I suspect Derek was meant to do some jobs for Mrs Brightside, but he is not the most reliable worker,’ Song said. ‘She is a good friend of Mrs Grigsby.’

  ‘Is she just as mean?’ Max asked. From the woman’s previous exchange with Song, he didn’t imagine so.

  ‘I have always found her to be quite delightful,’ Song said, as he and the children walked along the street with Wellie and Mac sniffing everything in their paths.

  ‘Does anyone else live at her house?’ Kensy asked.

  ‘No, she is a widow,’ Song said. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Kensy was about to tell him what she’d seen the previous day when she spotted Autumn at the end of the road. ‘Never mind,’ she said, and ran ahead to catch up to her.

  When they’d arrived home from dinner last night, Max had asked her what she’d meant when she said she wasn’t sure about a few of their new friends. He’d told her she was being silly and, when Kensy thought about it, she was inclined to agree. Autumn had been nothing but lovely, as had Carlos and Harper. None of them deserved her ridiculous suspicions.

  ‘Bye, Song! Bye, puppies! See you this afternoon!’ Kensy called over her shoulder.

  ‘It’s all right, Song, I’ll walk with you,’ Max said. There was something about the butler that made him feel safe and calm.

  ‘Thank you, Master Maxim.’ Song nodded. ‘May I ask if there is something troubling you? Confucius says a trouble shared is a trouble halved – or perhaps that was my mother who told me that.’

  Max exhaled. ‘How long do you have?’

  ‘I would listen for as long as you need, but I think we will run short of time with school not far away,’ Song replied.

  ‘I’m worried about Mum and Dad,’ the boy admitted. ‘I don’t say that to Kensy, of course, because I don’t want her to worry. We tell each other they’re fine, but, really, how could a notepad on Kensy’s bedside table prove that?’

  Song’s brow creased. ‘A notepad on the bedside table?’

  ‘Kensy believes it’s a sign from Mum, but it’s probably just a coincidence,’ Max explained.

  Song, Max and the dogs rounded the corner and were swept up in a wave of children heading towards the school.

  ‘Hey Max, hi Song!’ Sachin shouted from further down the street. He ran over to them, his backpack jostling up and down on his shoulders.

  Wellie and Mac sniffed the boy’s trousers.

  ‘They like you,’ Max said.

  S
achin grinned. ‘Of course they do. What’s not to like?’

  ‘Do you and Song know each other?’ Max asked. He was sure that Sachin had called both their names.

  Song glanced at Sachin then back at Max. ‘I met Master Sachin when I was out walking Wellington and Mackintosh one morning. The dogs took a shine to him right away and I instantly knew he must be a very good boy.’

  ‘I’ve run into Song and the dogs a few times since then. We’re old friends now, aren’t we?’ Sachin said, giving each of the dogs a hefty pat.

  ‘Is it okay if Sachin and I walk the rest of the way together?’ Max asked Song.

  The man nodded. ‘I will meet you here this afternoon.’

  Max smiled and pushed up his spectacles. ‘Thanks, Song. You’re one of the good guys.’

  ‘I am the best one of the good guys,’ Song replied, patting the boy on the shoulder and looking quite chuffed.

  Max knelt down and ruffled Wellie and Mac’s heads. ‘See you two later,’ he said. The pups wagged their tails.

  ‘Those dogs are so cute,’ Sachin said, as he and Max strode off.

  Song raised his head ever so slightly and, unbeknown to Max, Sachin turned and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  The twins’ first lesson of the day was English and this morning Miss Witherbee was wound up like a clock. When Yasmina asked her a question about the text they were reading, the woman almost took the poor girl’s head off, saying that she, of all people, should know what to do. Kensy wondered exactly what that meant and why Yasmina should know when everyone else seemed to be in the dark about things.

  The children took out their copies of Swallows and Amazons and were ordered to read the whole of chapter eight in complete silence. When they were finished, they were to answer a page of comprehension questions. Kensy thought it must be a test and that maybe she’d missed that part of the instruction because Miss Witherbee was patrolling the room like a commandant. As she passed by Kensy’s desk, the teacher exploded.

  ‘If you can’t keep quiet, Miss Grey, you will have to sit on your own,’ the woman boomed, startling the rest of the class.

  Kensy looked at her in disbelief. ‘But I didn’t say a word, Miss Witherbee,’ she protested. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, and hated herself for it. What was it with the adults around here? Mrs Grigsby yesterday and now Miss Witherbee – both accusing her of things she hadn’t done.

  ‘Such impertinence!’ Miss Witherbee seethed. ‘Do you want to argue with me? I think you’ll find that, as a former captain of the Oxbridge Debating team, I’m a more than worthy opponent.’

  Kensy was about to say something else when she caught sight of her brother pressing a finger to his lips and shaking his head. Kensy rolled her eyes, which Miss Witherbee fortunately didn’t catch.

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Kensy whispered to Yasmina.

  The girl shrugged. ‘I don’t know. She’s not usually as grumpy as this.’

  Willow Witherbee spun around. ‘I heard someone speaking. Who was it?’

  Her outburst was met with stunned silence.

  ‘I know what I heard. It was you, wasn’t it?’ She pointed a skinny manicured finger at Kensy.

  The girl swallowed hard. She didn’t want to own up, but she wasn’t about to tell on Yasmina either. ‘Yes, Miss Witherbee,’ Kensy mumbled.

  ‘Right, stand up. You can go and sit over there.’ The teacher pointed to a desk at the back of the room, facing the wall underneath shelves loaded with large reference books and the entire Harry Potter series. ‘If you’d rather spend the rest of the morning with the headmaster, that can be arranged.’

  Kensy sighed and gathered her things together. Maybe Mr MacGregor would be more reasonable, although the thought of being put on Kevin duty, catching flies to feed his beloved plant (if that was even true), didn’t thrill her too much either. Kensy sat down at the desk and began to re-read the passage. English was one of her best subjects and she was determined not to let Miss Witherbee get the better of her. She’d only been sitting there a couple of minutes when there was a loud crack and the whole class looked up from their books.

  Yasmina turned around. ‘Kensy!’ she shouted, as the shelf above the girl seemed to split in half.

  Instinctively, Kensy shielded her face. An avalanche of books rained down, toppling the girl off her chair before she managed to roll away. Max was out of his seat in seconds. He grabbed Kensy and helped her to her feet as the books continued to thump down onto the floor, scattering everywhere. But that wasn’t the last of the drama. The broken shelf shot across the room, narrowly missing Yasmina and some of the other children.

  ‘Oh no!’ Miss Witherbee gasped. ‘Are you all right, Kensy?’

  The girl had a bump on her head from where the first book had connected, but apart from that she was just a little shaken up.

  ‘Looks like someone sawed the shelf almost in half,’ Sachin said, holding up the board in question. ‘The weight of the books must have caused it to crack.’

  ‘Imagine having that on your gravestone. Killed by Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, hardback edition,’ Sachin joked, then grimaced. ‘Too soon?’

  Kensy managed a small laugh. ‘Gee, thanks.’

  ‘My goodness, who would do such a thing?’ Miss Witherbee squawked, holding her cheeks with both hands.

  Max’s ears were ringing. He couldn’t help but wonder if the woman’s protest was a tad overwrought.

  There was a knock on the door and Mr MacGregor poked his head around. ‘Good heavens, what’s gone on in here?’ he asked, entering the room.

  ‘We’re absolutely fine, Mr MacGregor,’ Miss Witherbee said quickly. Her eyes darted about and she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands.

  Sachin held up the offending piece of lumber. ‘Someone tried to kill Kensy.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Miss Witherbee rebuked. ‘We have no idea how it happened and asinine speculation is certainly not helpful. I’m sure it was an unfortunate accident, that’s all.’

  Mr MacGregor walked over to take a look. ‘This does appear to have a blade mark in it,’ he said, his eyebrows stitched together in grave concern. ‘Are you all right, Kensy?’ The man examined her forehead, which bore a red blotch and a bit of swelling. ‘I think you’d better accompany me to the office; Mrs Potts can arrange an icepack.’

  ‘May I come too, sir?’ Max asked.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ the man said. He turned to Miss Witherbee. ‘Why don’t you have the children stack the books on the cupboard over there and I’ll get Mr Lazenby to take a look at fixing the shelf?’

  The woman nodded vigorously and turned her eyes to the floor. ‘Yes, sir.’

  And with that, Mr MacGregor ushered Kensy and Max out the door.

  Max looked at Kensy as they walked along the hall to the headmaster’s office. ‘You know it was just an accident, right?’

  ‘Of course it was,’ Kensy said sarcastically. ‘Just like the taxi that nearly ran me over on the way home yesterday. Two silly coincidences.’

  Magoo turned around. ‘What happened on the way home?’ he asked, frowning.

  ‘Some maniac in a taxi almost knocked Kensy down when we were crossing the street. He probably didn’t see her,’ Max said. ‘It was getting dark.’

  But Magoo MacGregor wasn’t so sure about that. Perhaps the twins needed closer monitoring, he thought to himself. Carlos and Max seemed to have struck up a friendship already, and Autumn and Kensy were a good match too. He knew he could rely on both of them. He’d call them in for a chat as soon as he could.

  Sachin and Max walked down the hall, the smell of lunch drawing the students like a line of ants towards the cafeteria. Kensy and Autumn were still putting away their things after their last lesson with Mrs Vanden Boom. At least there hadn’t been any more mishaps and Kensy’s headache had dulled. Truth was, she felt fine on the outside, but inside her stomach was churning. More than ever, she wanted her mum and dad, and Fi
tz too. Being at school kept her mind busy for the most part; it was in the quiet moments that the reality of the situation almost overwhelmed the girl. But there was no giving up. Her parents were alive. She was certain of it.

  ‘Do you have any extension lessons today?’ Kensy asked as they headed to lunch.

  Autumn shook her head. ‘No, I’m in the same classes as you all day.’

  Kensy smiled. ‘I’m glad. You’re one of those people I feel like I’ve known forever, which is silly, of course.’

  Autumn linked arms with the girl. ‘It’s funny, but from the moment I saw you I just knew we were going to get along.’

  The girls passed by Lola and Misha, who immediately began whispering behind their hands.

  ‘Just ignore those two,’ Autumn said loudly. ‘They don’t have a brain between them.’

  ‘You think you’re so clever, Autumn,’ Lola spat. ‘But you’re not.’

  ‘Yeah, not clever,’ Misha repeated.

  ‘See what I mean? One brain, same thoughts,’ Autumn said with a shrug.

  Kensy couldn’t help herself and gave them a death stare – a skill she’d perfected on Max and had occasionally used on mean kids at school. It had the desired effect – Lola poked her tongue out, then scurried away with Misha in tow.

  Kensy and Autumn grinned at one another.

  ‘What’s it like being a twin?’ Autumn asked.

  ‘It’s good most of the time. I always have someone to talk to and Max is fun to hang out with and he’s really brave and kind.’ Kensy stopped. ‘Gee, I shouldn’t talk him up too much. Don’t tell him I said any of that or his head will get even bigger than it’s been since he beat Mr MacGregor in the race.’

  ‘He’s handsome too,’ Autumn said, then clamped her hands over her mouth. A bright crimson wash crept across her face.

  Kensy wrinkled her nose. ‘Really?’

  Fortunately, Kensy left it at that. Relieved, Autumn thought she’d got away with it – until they reached the door of the cafeteria.