to say. How did you enjoy Blake?’
Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Actually,’ he said awkwardly, ‘I wasn’t aware that we had any summer reading.’
Long-Pitt stared at Arthur incredulously and the rest of the class tittered behind their textbooks.
‘Weren’t aware?’ Long-Pitt enquired, wide-eyed. ‘Forgive my surprise, Mr Bannister, but I sent out the reading lists myself and I distinctly remember sending one to you. 23B Sudden Street, Hammersmith, London. Is that correct?’
Dan and a beefy friend of his looked appalled at the idea that anyone should live in a flat and not an enormous country house. Arthur resisted the urge to throw something at them.
‘Yes, Professor,’ he replied as steadily as he could.
‘Yes,’ Long-Pitt agreed. ‘Try harder, Mr Bannister. We don’t hand out scholarships to just anybody and I wouldn’t want to have to put you on a train back to London so soon.’
‘What a witch!’ Penny said as she and Arthur made their way towards the lower-school common room after the lesson.
‘Is she always like that?’ Arthur asked.
‘Pretty much, but that was uncalled for – it’s only your first week!’
‘I don’t understand,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘She can’t have sent me the reading list in the post because it never arrived.’
‘Maybe she’s trying to sabotage your scholarship?’ Penny said conspiratorially.
‘And Dan Forge,’ Arthur said. ‘He was absolutely loving it, watching me squirm and laughing about my address.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about Dan. He’s just a snob. Who cares? I’d love to live in London.’
‘Thanks, Penny,’ Arthur said, squeezing Penny’s arm gratefully.
Penny flushed a little and replied lightly, ‘Don’t mention it.’
Jake and George were already ensconced on a huge sofa in the lower-school common room, with piles of jammy toast balanced precariously on its arms. The common room had been a ballroom, so it was light and spacious. It was the only part of the school that made any concession at all to the modern world: the shining wooden floor was furnished with brightly coloured sofas and beanbags; the faded, flocked wallpaper was covered by posters and photos; and where once butlers and maids would have stood were vending machines and football tables.
‘This is awesome,’ Arthur said, eyeing up the huge television in the corner.
‘I know,’ Penny said, as they made their way towards their friends. ‘Professor Long-Pitt loathes it, but someone’s dad paid for the revamp a few years ago, so she was backed into a corner. You should see the sixth-form common room – they’ve got a basketball hoop.’
Just as Arthur was about to sit down, he was blinded by a flash of light. Someone had shoved a camera in his face. When his eyes had recovered, he saw a small girl, with wonky pigtails and enormous braces, holding a Polaroid camera and looking at him with undisguised adoration.
‘Hello,’ she breathed. ‘I’m Xanthe Fry. I’m Head of the Lower School.’
She stuck out a damp hand that was covered in ink, and Arthur shook it.
‘You nearly blinded me,’ Arthur said.
Xanthe squealed with laughter. ‘Oh! You’re so funny !’ She snorted, trying to swat his arm flirtatiously and missing.
Penny giggled and Xanthe shot her a look of pure, bubbling poison.
‘What’s the photo for?’ Arthur asked, once it was clear that Xanthe wasn’t going anywhere.
‘Oh, it’s not for me! No, of course not. I’m not some mad stalker or anything!’ She let out a peal of embarrassed laughter. ‘It’s for the lower-school photo board.’ Xanthe pointed towards a large collage composed of a photo of every student with their name written underneath. She fanned her face coquettishly with Arthur’s developing photo and then looked at it. ‘Oh dear.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t think this one is any good. Let’s do another.’ She took another snap, discreetly slipping the first into her
Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Actually,’ he said awkwardly, ‘I wasn’t aware that we had any summer reading.’
Long-Pitt stared at Arthur incredulously and the rest of the class tittered behind their textbooks.
‘Weren’t aware?’ Long-Pitt enquired, wide-eyed. ‘Forgive my surprise, Mr Bannister, but I sent out the reading lists myself and I distinctly remember sending one to you. 23B Sudden Street, Hammersmith, London. Is that correct?’
Dan and a beefy friend of his looked appalled at the idea that anyone should live in a flat and not an enormous country house. Arthur resisted the urge to throw something at them.
‘Yes, Professor,’ he replied as steadily as he could.
‘Yes,’ Long-Pitt agreed. ‘Try harder, Mr Bannister. We don’t hand out scholarships to just anybody and I wouldn’t want to have to put you on a train back to London so soon.’
‘What a witch!’ Penny said as she and Arthur made their way towards the lower-school common room after the lesson.
‘Is she always like that?’ Arthur asked.
‘Pretty much, but that was uncalled for – it’s only your first week!’
‘I don’t understand,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘She can’t have sent me the reading list in the post because it never arrived.’
‘Maybe she’s trying to sabotage your scholarship?’ Penny said conspiratorially.
‘And Dan Forge,’ Arthur said. ‘He was absolutely loving it, watching me squirm and laughing about my address.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about Dan. He’s just a snob. Who cares? I’d love to live in London.’
‘Thanks, Penny,’ Arthur said, squeezing Penny’s arm gratefully.
Penny flushed a little and replied lightly, ‘Don’t mention it.’
Jake and George were already ensconced on a huge sofa in the lower-school common room, with piles of jammy toast balanced precariously on its arms. The common room had been a ballroom, so it was light and spacious. It was the only part of the school that made any concession at all to the modern world: the shining wooden floor was furnished with brightly coloured sofas and beanbags; the faded, flocked wallpaper was covered by posters and photos; and where once butlers and maids would have stood were vending machines and football tables.
‘This is awesome,’ Arthur said, eyeing up the huge television in the corner.
‘I know,’ Penny said, as they made their way towards their friends. ‘Professor Long-Pitt loathes it, but someone’s dad paid for the revamp a few years ago, so she was backed into a corner. You should see the sixth-form common room – they’ve got a basketball hoop.’
Just as Arthur was about to sit down, he was blinded by a flash of light. Someone had shoved a camera in his face. When his eyes had recovered, he saw a small girl, with wonky pigtails and enormous braces, holding a Polaroid camera and looking at him with undisguised adoration.
‘Hello,’ she breathed. ‘I’m Xanthe Fry. I’m Head of the Lower School.’
She stuck out a damp hand that was covered in ink, and Arthur shook it.
‘You nearly blinded me,’ Arthur said.
Xanthe squealed with laughter. ‘Oh! You’re so funny !’ She snorted, trying to swat his arm flirtatiously and missing.
Penny giggled and Xanthe shot her a look of pure, bubbling poison.
‘What’s the photo for?’ Arthur asked, once it was clear that Xanthe wasn’t going anywhere.
‘Oh, it’s not for me! No, of course not. I’m not some mad stalker or anything!’ She let out a peal of embarrassed laughter. ‘It’s for the lower-school photo board.’ Xanthe pointed towards a large collage composed of a photo of every student with their name written underneath. She fanned her face coquettishly with Arthur’s developing photo and then looked at it. ‘Oh dear.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t think this one is any good. Let’s do another.’ She took another snap, discreetly slipping the first into her
Similar Books
