Obsidian Pebble (30 page)

“French, seventy-five; English, sixty-eight; geography, seventy-nine; history, seventy…” Oz paused dramatically.

“What did Ellie get?”

Oz stared at her in exasperation. “I don't know. About the same, I think,” he said. “Besides, what does it matter what Ellie got?”

“Okay, okay. I was only teasing,” said his mother, grinning.

Music, Geography and History were all okay, too, but Mrs. Chambers wasn't going to be hoodwinked.

“So, what about science? You said that was the one you were worrying about.”

“Eighty-two percent. Thanks to Sydney and Savannah.”

“Well done, Oz,” said Mrs. Chambers, her eyes shining.

“So, it's just art and maths to come and art was a doddle. I did this mountain landscape and Mr. Holland said it reminded him of Mordor. It was meant to be Kilimanjaro, but the white paint for the snow on the top looked pants, and I was in a bad mood so I used red instead, and turned it into a volcano.”

“I am really proud of you, Oz,” Mrs. Chambers beamed.

“So does that mean that I can go to the party, and that Ruff and Ellie can come and stay afterwards?”

“I suppose we should really wait for the maths result,” said Mrs. Chambers, but Oz knew she was teasing again.

“Or, I could bet you a pound I'll get over ninety.”

“That confident, are we?”

“It was a walk in the park,” Oz said, because it had been, since the coloured numbers thing was still happening.

“Okay, a pound it is, but I think that the results so far get you a pass to the party.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Oz said, getting up from his seat and giving his mother a hug.

“The only thing is that you'll have to let yourself in and get a lift back, because I'm out tomorrow night as well.”

“Anywhere nice?” Oz asked, intrigued. His mother rarely went out unless it was to her book club, or occasionally with Ellie's mum for a drink.

“Yes, actually,” Mrs. Chambers said, starting to clear the table with a great deal more vim than was necessary. “I'm going to a posh charity do. Jack Gerber has a table and he's asked me to go.”

Oz was stunned into a long moment of wide-eyed silence. When he did find his voice he only managed a “But—”

“It's just a charity do, Oz. There'll be lots of people there, Lorenzo and the university crowd. And the Fanshaws, I expect.”

“But…”

“You don't mind, do you?” said Mrs. Chambers, stopping her clearing away to peer at Oz challengingly.

“But Gerber is a…,” Oz almost said Puffer, but caught himself in time. Instead, he opted for what the Fanshaw secret service had told him. “Sydney and Savannah say he's been in trouble for experimenting on animals and stuff.”

“I'm sure that's just a nasty rumour. Lorenzo assures me that Mr. Gerber has lots of fingers in lots of pies, but I doubt that animal testing is one of them. And anyway, I think I deserve a little bit of fun, don't you?”

“Oh, so they're not just trying to butter you up to make you sell them Penwurt, then?” Oz said with feeling.

Mrs. Chambers sighed heavily. “Oh, Oz, we have to start looking at things realistically. We're struggling. Really struggling. Especially now that we've lost Caleb's rent.”

“And whose fault is that?” Oz pointed out, feeling the anger rise in him like a red tide.

“Not mine,” said Mrs. Chambers icily. “He brought that on himself. He promised me—”

“And you promised me that we would never leave here.” Oz was shouting now. He could feel hot tears sting his eyes. “You said, after Dad died, that we'd always have this part of him. We'd always have this place.”

Mrs. Chambers stopped clearing away the dishes. She sat opposite Oz like she had a hundred times before, her face suddenly full of pain again, her voice earnest. “I know I did, Oz, and I am really and truly sorry. I thought we could afford it. We should have been able to, but…” She faltered, the words petering out into nothing.

“It's because the insurance people won't pay us, isn't it?” Oz said, the words tumbling out. “Because of what the coroner said about Dad, isn't it? The open verdict thing.”

Mrs. Chambers looked up at Oz with a little shake of her head, her brows knitted with incredulity. “Is there anything you don't know?”

“I asked Caleb, since no one else would tell me,” Oz muttered darkly. “Mum, I know that Dad couldn't have killed himself, but if we leave here we'll never be able to prove it.”

“That's just nonsense, Oz,” she said, but she sounded suddenly defeated and tired.

“It's not nonsense, Mum. I believe it, and so should you,” Oz pleaded.

But all Mrs. Chambers could do was sadly shake her head as she sat with her eyes closed, fingers trembling slightly as she slowly massaged her temples.

* * *

Oz was still fretting over his mother's unbelievable gullibility at school the next day. But there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it, no matter how he approached it. The bet he'd made with her about maths had burrowed to the back of his mind, but when 1C pitched up for third lesson that morning and he saw how everyone fell quiet with nervous anticipation, he, too, felt a sudden pang of anxiety. Badger Breath, in his usual sardonic way, called out everyone's marks but left Oz until last. After everyone else had been named, he summoned Oz to the front and, while he busied himself with some marking, thrust the paper at him without even looking up.

“I don't know how you're doing it, Chambers,” he said, in a barely audible whisper, “but rest assured that I will be spending the final two terms of my employment at this institution finding out.”

“You're leaving, then, sir?”

“Yes. My blood pressure, already precipitously high, will not stand the infuriation of another academic year with the likes of you, Chambers.” He held up the paper and shook it. “Go on, take it.” Oz could see the muscles of his jaw working as he spoke.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Oz said with exaggerated politeness as he took the proffered paper. He stepped away, but then hesitated and turned back to the desk and said, slowly and loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Sorry, sir, but I can't quite read the mark. Does that say ninety-five or ninety-three?”

Heads shot up.

“Five,” muttered Badger Breath through clenched teeth.

“So, a ninety-five, then, is it, sir?” “Yes,” snapped Badger Breath, finally looking up and throwing Oz a glare of cold fury.

“Thank you, sir.”

Judging from the number of open mouths Oz counted as he walked back to his seat, he was delighted to see that the whole class had heard the exchange. When Oz examined the paper, he saw that the only marks Badger Breath had taken off were for not using a black pen and for bad handwriting. But that didn't matter. A low hum of excitement was audible in the classroom. 1C were celebrating the brilliant news that they only had to put up with Badger Breath for another two terms.

* * *

That evening, as Oz wolfed down a banana sandwich prior to going out, Mrs. Chambers walked in wearing a dress she hadn't touched in a long, long time. She'd also donned long, sparkly earrings and a necklace that he remembered his dad giving to her one birthday not so long ago.

“Well, do I pass muster?” she asked, giving Oz a twirl.

“You look…different,” Oz said truthfully, since he wasn't at all used to seeing her dressed like this.

“Okay, I'll take that as a positive, shall I?” She clipped across the flagstones on high heels and wiped a stray strand of hair from Oz's forehead, and then stepped back to consider him, her eyes narrowing. “Don't look too bad yourself, scrubbed up.”

“Mum, promise me you won't make any decisions about the house tonight.”

“I am just going out for some adult company,” she explained calmly. “Is that so bad?”

“No, but I just don't trust Gerber or Heeps,” Oz said, desperate to make her understand. “I wouldn't put it past them to get you tiddly and make you sign something.”

“Oz, they'd have to get up very early in the morning to catch me out,” she said.

But Oz had a funny sinking feeling that she was underestimating Gerber in a big way.

* * *

The school party was being held at the sixth form college, half a mile away from the lower school campus. This meant that, although there were lots of teachers present, including the Volcano, who was on corridor patrol, sixth formers were in charge of the music. In Oz's junior school they'd usually roped in the caretaker as DJ, a man whose musical choice usually consisted of rubbish songs you only ever heard on the radio for a month just before Christmas, followed by sing-along carols. Oz found himself hoping that this party wasn't going to be as bad as those had been. He caught a bus to the college and had barely walked through the big glass and steel entrance when two pairs of hands grabbed him roughly and dragged him into an alcove off the main corridor. Oz struggled and kicked out, and only when he heard Ruff's pleading voice did he ease up.

“Ow, Oz, wait. It's us!”

“Ruff?” Oz extricated himself from the grasping hands and arms, and turned around to see Ruff massaging his shoulder and Niko Piotrowski looking sheepish.

“You didn't have to thump me quite so hard,” Ruff complained.

“I didn't know it was you, did I? What's going on, anyway?” Oz smoothed down his ruffled shirt.

“Skinner and Jenks,” Ruff growled.

“They have set ambush,” Niko explained. “Outside boys' toilets. They have water bombs.”

“What's that got to do with me?” Oz asked.

“You're their main target,” Ruff added, grimacing from where Oz had landed a good right hook to his shoulder. “Niko heard them plotting. They still hold a big grudge against you for the Skullers losing their unbeaten record.”

“Oh,” Oz said.

“Jenks and Skinner, they are like rats. Horrible and never far away,” Niko said with feeling. “They pick only on smaller and weaker, or when they are more.”

“We can't let them get away with it,” Ruff said, still rubbing his shoulder, “so we thought we'd intercept you. Didn't know you were going to turn into Mike buzzard Tyson.”

“Sorry, mate,” Oz said, trying not to laugh. “So, what are we going to do?”

Niko held up a small plastic packet. It was a selection of coloured balloons. “Attack is best form of defence.”

Oz grinned. “What's the plan?”

“I found a map of the place next to the office,” Ruff said with a glint in his eye. “If we go right here, up the stairs and along the corridor, there's another toilet. We can load up there and then go down the other side, and me and you can sneak up on them from the back.”

“We will probably get into trouble…” Niko said.

“And your point is?” Oz said.

Niko grinned.

They followed Ruff up the stairs and along a dim corridor.

“By the way, thanks for warning us about Jenks and Skinner,” Oz said to Niko as they hurried along.

“Is okay. I have not had chance to thank you for helping my sister in Ballista's,” Niko said, before adding, “She likes you very much.”

“Does she?” Oz said airily.

“Now, I get chance to thank Skinner and Jenks in person.”

Oz glanced at Niko's defiant expression and said, “Yeah, I think we'd all like that chance.”

The upstairs toilet was large, clean and completely empty as they filled their balloons.

“Not too much,” Ruff warned them, “otherwise they just become too floppy to throw.”

Beneath them, they could hear the bass thump of the music and the dull roar of three hundred excited pupils out for a good time. Ruff put twenty water-primed balloons into three plastic bags and gave one ten-pack to Oz. To Niko he gave a stubby black stick and a smaller cache of five balloons. He held the third bag, which also held five.

“What's that for?” Oz said, glancing at the stick.

“Part of my cunning plan,” Ruff said. “Come on, let's go. Got your mobile, Niko?”

Niko held up his phone.

“Text me when you're in position. You make your move on my signal, okay?”

Niko nodded and quickly headed back the way they had come. Ruff led Oz in the opposite direction and down some stairs. At the end of another corridor, they emerged into a room that was full of the aroma of hot dogs and hamburgers and a crowd of milling, hungry pupils.

“Where's Ellie?” yelled Oz, trying to make himself heard over the noise.

“Here somewhere.” Ruff scanned the crowd and pointed to a corner where Ellie was deep in conversation with some older girls. “Said she was on a mission,” Ruff said, shrugging.

Oz peered at the girls Ellie was with. “Hey, isn't that Katie Sasco?”

“One of Pheeps' Creeps, yeah, you're right,” said Ruff.

“What's Ellie doing…” But he never finished. Ruff had grabbed his arm and pulled him through the crowd.

“Come on, we can talk about all that later.”

They threaded their way through the sea of faces until they emerged into the relative calm of another corridor. Ruff went right and then left past classrooms and a science lab, until they found another set of stairs and descended quietly. Ruff put down his plastic bag of balloons and his fingers flew over the keys of his phone. A second later, there was a return text message.

“Right, Niko's in position.”

“Great,” said Oz, “but where are we?”

“If I'm right, the boys' toilets are through those double doors on the right. No one should be coming this way 'cos it doesn't go anywhere except classrooms. Jenks and Skinner will be expecting you from the other direction, so we should be safe.”

Oz watched as Ruff moved towards the double doors, opened them a crack, got on his knees and slid his phone through at foot level. Five seconds later, he pulled the phone back and pressed some buttons. A video of the corridor flickered on the screen. There, halfway along, leaning against the wall, was Skinner. At his feet lay a pile of water balloons. Next to him, Jenks paced up and down.