by Lauren Child
There was no mention of having been found injured, bleeding and unconscious by Sam Colt, no mention of him dropping her off just yards from base camp because she was barely able to walk. So Sam bent the rules. Ruby had suspected as much. She owed him one.
‘But I arrived, didn’t I?’
‘If crawling into camp is arriving, then I guess you did,’ said LB.
LB raised an eyebrow.
Ruby opened her mouth to speak, but LB clucked her tongue to indicate she hadn’t finished.
‘And, to cap it all, you got sick. How incredibly careless.’
‘I appreciate your sympathy,’ said Ruby.
‘Cut it out Redfort, and by the way I should warn you that I have a chronic headache so if I were you I’d keep it short and stick to explaining what in the name of stupid was going on.’
‘The thing is I wasn’t really hungry,’ said Ruby.
‘I think we all know that had there been a donut tree out there it would have been quite a different story,’ said LB. ‘You failed to forage, failed to eat, failed to nourish your brain, you lost energy and you couldn’t navigate your way back to base in the time allocated.’
‘Look, I wasn’t going to share this with you, but I sorta lost my glasses.’ Ruby hadn’t meant to bring this up, but she was getting desperate. Perhaps it would bring out LB’s sympathetic side.
LB looked at her quizzically. ‘Your judgement is way off Redfort, if you think that’s going to put you back in a professional light.’
‘Yeah, but the thing is, I’ve learned from my mistakes,’ said Ruby.
‘The point of the exercise is to prove that you don’t make mistakes,’ countered LB.
Ruby sneezed again. ‘But I rustled the horse pretty well. So I caught the flu. I made it back, didn’t I? Isn’t that the whole point – surviving?’
‘You nearly caught your death. What’s the point of a dead agent?’
‘But I didn’t, I survived.’
‘Only because Emerson waited around for twelve hours, fifty-seven minutes and three seconds to bring you in – in my book that’s called getting rescued.’
‘Sometimes people need rescuing. You’re telling me you’ve never been rescued?’ said Ruby.
‘Not because I lost my glasses,’ said LB.
‘It doesn’t have to mean everything,’ argued Ruby.
LB looked at her hard. ‘In Spectrum’s book it means failure; maybe you’re just not cut out for this.’
Ruby opened her mouth to protest, but LB raised her hand.
‘You want me to make my decision now,’ she said, ‘or after I’ve had a cup of mint tea and swallowed two aspirin?’
Ruby kept her mouth shut.
‘If you’d prefer me to spend time evaluating your rather desperate performance instead of making a judgement here and now, then I’d keep your mouth shut, firmly shut, as in clamped, closed, zipped.’
Ruby said not a word. LB looked down at her files.
‘Oh and by the way,’ she added, ‘I wouldn’t get all smug about the horse rustling. You abandoned a saddle right near the corral, it was spotted and the horse was then presumed stolen.’ With that, she picked up the phone and dialled 8. ‘Buzz, do you know where my Paris paperweight has got to? It seems to have vanished into thin air.’
Ruby left the room without getting so much as a see you soon from her superior. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She had never failed at anything in her life, unless of course she’d meant to fail in order to get out of something.
How had everything suddenly gone so bad?
Chapter 15.
HITCH LOOKED UP WHEN THE DOOR OPENED.
‘So you survived,’ he said.
‘Ah, it was a breeze,’ said Ruby. ‘I think she’s considering giving me some type of a medal.’
‘Always good to keep optimistic kid,’ said Hitch, patting her on the back. ‘I heard optimism is the number-one rule of survival.’
‘No,’ said Ruby. ‘Apparently, that’s punctuality.’
Ruby thought it was probably time to head on home, but it seemed Hitch had other ideas, as he set off down the corridor and beckoned for Ruby to follow.
RUBY: ‘Where we going now?’
HITCH: ‘Just calling in on Harper.’
RUBY: ‘Who’s Harper?’
HITCH: ‘Someone with a medical qualification.’
RUBY: ‘Why do you need someone with a medical qualification? You sick or something?’
HITCH: ‘No. To check out those stitches of yours.’
RUBY: ‘They’re fine.’
HITCH:‘You a doctor?’
RUBY: ‘I’d just rather leave it, OK?’
HITCH: ‘You’re squeamish?’
RUBY: ‘LB, she’ll find out.’
HITCH: ‘No. She won’t.’
RUBY: ‘She knows everything.’
HITCH: ‘What makes you think that?’
RUBY: ‘She told me she does.’
HITCH: ‘Don’t believe everything she tells you; she wants you to believe that.’
RUBY: ‘I do believe that.’
HITCH: ‘Well, believe me, she doesn’t.’
RUBY: ‘She’s very persuasive.’
HITCH: ‘It would seem so.’
They arrived at a Band-Aid-coloured door – Hitch knocked.
RUBY: ‘So how can you be so sure this medically qualified person won’t inform LB?’
HITCH: ‘Because Dr Harper owes me, and Dr Harper is pretty cool.’
Dr Harper was pretty cool and she dealt with Ruby’s leg almost without referring to it, like it wasn’t actually there.
DR HARPER: ‘Nice stitching – Colt, I presume?’
RUBY: ‘Good guess.’
DR HARPER : ‘Not a guess. It’s obvious.’
She inspected the stitches to make sure the wound was healing OK and then she rebandaged Ruby’s foot.
DR HARPER: ‘You have pretty small feet, huh?’
RUBY: ‘I guess.’
Dr Harper went to her cupboard and rummaged around until she found a pair of rather small sneakers.
DR HARPER: ‘These have been in here for years, ever since Bradley Baker was a boy - he barely used them by the way. I doubt they are too odorous.’
Ruby eyed the sneakers suspiciously. They weren’t as cool as her Yellow Stripes, far from it; they looked very like little kid sneakers.
RUBY: ‘You expecting me to wear these?’
DR HARPER: ‘Well, I wasn’t suggesting you put them on your mantlepiece.’
RUBY: ‘You know what? That’s nice of you and all, but I don’t think I need alternative footwear; my Yellow Stripes are super comfy.’
DR HARPER: ‘ Ah, stop being so superficial. Put these on and you aren’t ever going to want to wear another shoe again, plus they’ve got other benefits.’
Ruby slipped her foot into the sneaker.
RUBY: ‘ You’re not kidding. These are like air or cloud. I can barely feel them. What’s the other benefit?’
DR HARPER: ‘I’ll let you discover that.’
RUBY: ‘They’re just comfy, right – there is no other benefit?’
DR HARPER: ‘ You’re good to go.’
RUBY: ‘Thanks. . .’
Pause.
RUBY: ‘I don’t s’pose there’s any chance of getting a. . .’
Dr Harper reached for a piece of headed paper and scribbled a few words on it, signed it and handed it to Ruby.
‘I’ll leave you to fill the date,’ said Harper. ‘Nice to meet you. See you next injury.’
Ruby smiled and slipped the doctor’s note into her satchel. It would no doubt come in very handy.
‘So how come Dr Harper owes you?’ she asked as she and Hitch walked back down the corridor.
‘That’s between her and me,’ said Hitch, tapping his nose.
Ruby was a little late home and her parents were already sitting at the kitchen table and had got started on their supper – the Redforts were eating casual to
night.
Sabina was yawning uncontrollably and looked like she might actually fall asleep in her bolognaise.
‘Sorry,’ said Ruby, ‘got held up.’
‘No harm done honey, just good to see you,’ said her father. ‘How was scout camp?’
‘Oh, you know, scouty,’ said Ruby, peering into the saucepan on the stove.
Ruby served herself some bolognaise and slid into her seat. She looked at her mother. ‘You OK Mom?’
As if on cue, Sabina yawned again. ‘I couldn’t sleep a wink last night. All the time I was hearing this strange sound, a kind of snorting.’
‘Sure it wasn’t Dad?’ mumbled Ruby through a mouthful of spaghetti.
‘Now Ruby, that’s not nice. Your father doesn’t snort, he snuffles cutely – it’s his adenoids.’
Mrs Digby coughed meaningfully and started clearing the table. ‘The man snores,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘Call it adenoids if you like, but there ain’t nothing cute about it.’
Brant Redfort seemed pretty oblivious to this little discussion. He was wearing his tennis shorts and was in a chipper mood – he was pretty much always in a chipper mood, but he was particularly so this evening because he had made mincemeat of Niles Lemon on the tennis court (not actually difficult because Niles Lemon could barely swing a racquet).
‘Funny thing,’ he said. ‘Niles told me he and Elaine received their invite to the Marie Antoinette perfume launch a couple of weeks back. Did ours ever show up?’
‘No,’ said Sabina, frowning. ‘You don’t think we’ve been blacklisted, do you?’
Mrs Digby pulled an invitation from the pile stacked on the shelf. ‘This what you’re missing?’ she said, slapping it down on the table.
‘You’re a genius,’ said Sabina, clasping her hands.
‘If the definition of genius is to open one’s God-given eyes and see what’s under your own nose, then I guess I am.’ Mrs Digby didn’t understand the need for getting all dramatic about things that required no effort whatsoever.
‘Smells like a fabulous evening,’ said Brant, sniffing the invitation.
‘Sounds like a total yawn,’ said Ruby, yawning.
‘I just hope that French pong has a better odour than the stink out in the yard,’ said Mrs Digby, who was standing on the back steps, holding her nose.
‘What kind of odour?’ said Brant.
‘Farmyard,’ said Mrs Digby.
Ruby’s parents both got up to take a sniff. Ruby could barely smell a thing, what with her bunged-up nose.
The telephone rang and Sabina answered it.
‘If you’re phoning about the smell, we can’t help it,’ she said.
‘Mrs Redfort?’ said Clancy.
‘Oh, hi there Clancy. We’re having some odour problems. I guess you’re wanting Ruby.’ She handed the phone to her daughter.
‘Hey Clance, how’s things?’ said Ruby.
‘Not so good,’ said Clancy. ‘In fact, bad, pretty bad.’
Ruby pulled up one of the stools at the kitchen bar. ‘How bad?’
‘I got a message from Abe at the bike shop; turns out my bike can’t be fixed,’ he said, ‘it’s kaput. Fixing it will cost more than it’s worth. My dad says I can get a second-hand one, but I’m gonna have to pay for it myself because I didn’t exactly look after the other one so well.’
‘But didn’t you tell him it was your sister who totalled it?’
‘I couldn’t; my dad’s as mad as a coyote at her already. She shouldn’t have been riding my bike ’cause she was grounded at the time so if I tell him how it happened she’s gonna be dead meat – he’ll probably ground her for the rest of her life and I don’t want that on my conscience. Besides,’ said Clancy with a heavy sigh, ‘my sisters and I have a rule: never sell a fellow comrade out, i.e. don’t tell Ambassador Crew.’
Ruby could see his dilemma all right; there was nothing Clancy could do but swallow it. Clancy happened to be about the most loyal person in the state and if he made a promise not to rat you out then he never would.
It was one of the qualities Ruby particularly valued him for.
If Clancy had a rule to never sell out a friend, then Ruby had her own RULE 6: NEVER HAVE A FRIEND WHO WOULD SELL YOU OUT.
The phone rang,
a shrill ring in the dark of
the apartment
Lorelei hurried over to the ornate desk and plucked up the receiver.
‘Hello? Eduardo?’ A pause. ‘What do you mean he’s gone?’
She listened, her fingers tapping anxiously on the desk top.
She took a breath. ‘And what about the creature?’ The question was almost whispered.
She sank down onto the chair. ‘No. . .’ she said. ‘That can’t be.’
She closed her eyes, a moment’s pause. ‘Find him,’ she said, her voice clipped and certain.
‘Just find him!’
Chapter 16.
RUBY WOKE WHEN THE SUNLIGHT TOUCHED HER FACE. She had been so tired the previous night that she had forgotten to close her blinds. She wasn’t feeling so good. Despite both Hitch and Mrs Digby’s efforts with their various flu remedies, nothing was really taking the edge off the joint-ache she felt, or the drilling headache, or the clammy sweating and shivering.
She stumbled to the bathroom and took a look at her still pale face with its dark panda eyes. She looked not quite as bad as she felt.
She picked up the conch phone and dialled Clancy’s number.
‘You wanna come over, watch some TV?’ asked Ruby. It was only 10 am, but so what.
‘Sure,’ said Clancy. ‘We could watch that crummy wilderness show. . . what’s it called?’
‘A Long Time Lost,’ said Ruby.
‘Oh yeah, that’s it. Hey, kinda ironic, huh?’ said Clancy.
Ruby didn’t reply so Clancy explained. ‘’Cause you were a long time lost, I mean, and the show’s called A Lon—’
‘Yeah bozo, I get it. See you later.’
She hung up. Then she pulled on a second pair of socks followed by some sheepskin knee-high boots, wrapped herself in her dad’s old zipped sweater and tottered downstairs to the kitchen.
Mrs Digby tutted when she saw her. ‘You look ready for the grave. Sit down on the double.’
‘Ah, it’s not so bad Mrs Digby. I still have a pulse.’
‘And not for long, if you ask me.’
Ruby’s mother walked in and over to the large kitchen window.
‘I knew it wasn’t Brant,’ she said. Sabina had her nose to the glass and was staring intently out of it.
‘Knew what wasn’t?’ said Ruby, she by now had her nose in the fridge and was groping around for the banana milk.
‘The snorting.’
‘Oh, that – so what was it?’ said Ruby, sneezing a violent sneeze.
‘A pig, a pig in the backyard. I saw it, just a back view, but I saw it.’
‘A pig?’ spluttered Ruby.
Sabina nodded. ‘It was a really big one too with very fat legs.’
Mrs Digby just rolled her eyes and muttered a small prayer to the saint of sanity.
‘When did you see it?’ asked Ruby.
‘About four o’clock this morning, I think it was four o’clock because I’d just had a vivid dream about your father snoring and I woke up and saw a pig.’
Ruby resisted the temptation to say what she wanted to say and instead asked, ‘How big was this pig?’
‘About yay,’ replied her mother, stretching her arms wide apart to suggest huge.
‘Mom, you know that seems pretty unlikely, don’t you?’
‘I certainly do,’ agreed her mother. ‘Think how surprised I was when I caught it pottering around – or whatever it is they do.’
‘Truffling around,’ corrected Ruby. ‘They truffle.’
‘Well, no wonder the yard smells if that’s what they do,’ said her mother.
‘How do you suppose a pig got into our yard Mom?’
‘Well, that I d
on’t know,’ said Sabina, her brow furrowed. ‘Who keeps pigs around here?’
‘That would be nobody,’ replied Ruby.
‘That’s what I thought,’ said her mother. ‘But I guess we’re both wrong. I would call Mrs Atenburg. . .’
‘Why would you do that?’ said Ruby. ‘She’s a bird watcher.’
‘That’s what I’m saying,’ said Sabina. ‘I would call her if this was a bird problem, but it’s a pig problem so I don’t suppose she can help.’
‘Unless it’s a flying pig,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m sure she knows all about them.’
Clancy arrived within twenty minutes, having bribed his little sister Olive to lend him her bike. It was tiny with a little pink basket at the front and he had to stand on the pedals the whole way. This really made his back ache; it also made him look ridiculous. Not that looking ridiculous was ever of big concern to Clancy Crew, but today, for the first time in his life, he felt he wouldn’t mind being the cool kid. Just for once. The one riding the cool bike. Was it so much to ask?
‘I hope you aren’t thinking of taking Ruby out of this house,’ said Mrs Digby sternly. ‘She’ll catch her death if you do.’
‘Mrs Digby, it’s about a hundred and five degrees outside,’ said Ruby. ‘How do you propose I’m gonna catch my death?’
‘You’re already halfway to it,’ asserted Mrs Digby. ‘You are not to go out on that roof of yours, not on my watch. I’ve taken the hatch key just to be sure.’ She pulled the key from her pocket to make the point clear.
‘Quite so,’ agreed Sabina. ‘She’s not to step out of this front door Clancy, promise me that.’
‘Oh, I do Mrs Redfort. We were going to hang out here, watch some tel. . . play some scrabble or maybe read an encyclopedia, you know, mind-expanding things.’
Ruby rolled her eyes, read an encyclopedia?
‘Good idea,’ said Sabina. ‘Expand your minds! You might be sick, but you don’t have to be stupid.’
Mrs Digby looked at Sabina Redfort rather pityingly, shook her head and muttered something that no one could quite catch, and Ruby and Clancy made their way up to Ruby’s room.
