The Beast of Seabourne (3 page)

This was sending the back row into hysterics. Oz and Ruff had found it funny the first couple of times, but by the tenth they'd had enough, too. Despite Miss Arkwright's threats of confiscation, Jenks continued to play the fool, cutting the replay down to just the raspberry every time Miss Arkwright's eyes fell to the sheaf of papers she was still busy searching.

“I wish someone would shut him up,” Ellie groaned as Skinner snorted a snotty giggle in response to another
Brrrp
.

“Agreed,” said Oz, in a tone that drew inquisitive glances from both Ellie and Ruff. “I think I heard Skinner say it has Bluetooth connectivity.”

Quickly and without fuss, Oz slipped his hand into his pocket and found the tiny raised emblem on the maker's mark of the pebble. He pressed gently and felt a familiar tingle in his head, which meant Soph had connected with him. Even though she had not shown herself, he knew now she could hear him.

“Right, how about we change Jenks' tune a bit,” he whispered so that only Ellie and Ruff could hear.

Instantly from the back row, the tinny but intrusive sound of the chorus to “Who Let The Dogs Out” erupted. Sung, moreover, in Jenks' and Skinner's highly recognizable voices, with Miss Swinson's name in place of the dogs.

Miss Arkwright looked up, mouth and eyes three circles of horrified astonishment.

In the back row, there was uproar.

“I thought you deleted that,” Jenks said, hurling a mortified glare at Skinner. He'd gone for a stage whisper, but he might as well have shouted it out for the whole school to hear.

“I did,” Skinner replied, trying ham-fistedly to turn the recorder off.

The class was mesmerized.

“Press that button,” hissed Jenks.

Despite their best efforts, the song continued to repeat itself, much to the amusement of Oz and his classmates.

“Then take the batteries out,” pleaded Jenks.

“Batteries, right, batteries.”

“Give it here.” Jenks snatched the recorder back.

The refrain died abruptly, leaving a nasty silence in its wake.

“I'll have that.” Miss Arkwright, who'd walked silently to the rear without Skinner or Jenks noticing, held out her hand.

The room remained quiet. Gladiator quiet. Waiting-for-the-lion-to-pounce quiet.

Jenks gave her the instrument, his face like a kicked blanket.

“Thank you, Lee,” Miss Arkwright's smile was sickly sweet. “Very entertaining. As a choice of signature tune, I preferred the first one. It suits you very well, being as it's the noise of something uncontrollable and rather loud.”

The whole class laughed, including Skinner, until he got a filthy look from a scowling Jenks.

“Good one, Oz,” whispered Ruff, with thumbs-up.

“Good one, Soph, more like,” Ellie added.

Hearing this, and keen to deflect his humiliation and anger onto someone else, Jenks turned to glower at Oz. “What are you laughing at, Chambers?” he growled as Miss Arkwright busied herself with the register.

“Don't know. The label fell off ages ago.”

“Keep trying and one day you might actually say something funny. We'll see who's laughing this weekend after I score a hat trick against you.”

“Dream on,” Oz said with a cold smile.

Slouching in the desk across the aisle from Jenks, Skinner simply sneered. Both played in the same mixed Sunday football league as Oz, Ellie, and Ruff did. Jenks and Skinner's team was called the Skullers, and since losing their unbeaten record to Ellie and Ruff ‘s Lions team the season before—thanks almost entirely to a guest appearance by Oz in goal—Jenks and Skinner had found a special place for the three of them in their scheming hearts.

Football was the weapon of choice when it came to physical combat, but that didn't stop Skinner and Jenks from trying all sorts of ways to get one over on their enemies. Not in the same bracket of malevolence as Pheeps, they were nevertheless annoying twits who couldn't be trusted for one minute.

“Right,” said Miss Arkwright, settling herself at her desk (which was decorated with posters of rain forests and threatened species, both high on the list of Miss Arkwright's passions). “I do have a few announcements. First of all, the jazz orchestra will be practising for the Easter concert on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 12:45. Arrangements for early dinner can be made through me or Mr Fidler. Miss Swinson has asked me to remind you all that the girls' toilet in the sports hall is still blocked, and she would still like to know who stuffed a copy of
The Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath
down the pan.”

There were a few muted sniggers and one strangled cheer.

Miss Arkwright looked up and waited for silence before consulting a handwritten sheet on her desk and continuing.

“Miss Swinson also wishes me to remind you that Rooms 60 to 68 in the old block are out of bounds due to the leaking roof and wet rot. Anyone caught in these rooms will be severely punished. And be afraid, be very afraid, because that has been underlined. Twice. In red.”

For one brief moment, Oz thought he saw Miss Arkwright send a warning glance his way, but at that second there was a loud knock on the door.

Mr Skelton, the science teacher, didn't wait to be invited in. New this year and frighteningly keen, he wore striped shirts with thin ties, sported a buzz cut, and had a thing for mirrors, judging from the amount of time he spent looking into them. As a teacher, he wasn't bad, which was more than could be said for his jokes. He also had teeth that made up almost a third of his face and seemed to glow of their own accord whenever he switched on his smile, which he often did for Miss Arkwright. Oz, Ellie, and Ruff were still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Ah, Mr Skelton,” Miss Arkwright said with grim politeness. “Come in…again.”

Since Mr Skelton was by now only a yard away from Miss Arkwright, who stood in the middle of the room, her moot invitation induced a look of bewilderment on his face. Since he was as thick-skinned as the African elephant that looked out over the class from the poster beside the door, he quickly recovered.

“Sorry to burst in like this, Madeline, just wanted to pop round to all of year eight to remind them of tomorrow's deadline.”

Miss Arkwright opened her mouth, but before she could speak Mr Skelton stepped forward to address the class.

From behind him, Oz heard Tracy Roper sigh. Several of the girls thought Mr Skelton was “lush.” Even Ellie grudgingly admitted that he looked a lot like the leading man in the latest blockbuster,
Steelcop
. Regardless, neither Oz nor Ruff could see the slightest resemblance, and both thought he was far too keen for his own good.

Skelton cleared his throat. “The closing date for all entries into the year eight science project is 9:30 tomorrow morning. I repeat, 9:30. That will give some of you the chance for parents to bring in anything you need from home. Not that any of you need reminding, I'm sure.”

There came a muffled raspberry sound from the back. No one laughed, although there were a few choked titters.

“Thank you, Mr Skelton,” Miss Arkwright said. “Consider them all reminded. Now if you'll just excuse us…”

Unfortunately, Mr Skelton had not quite finished. “I am
so
excited about this, the first science project competition ever at Seabourne County.”

“So I gather.” Miss Arkwright counterfeited a smile and didn't bother to rearrange her mouth when she muttered,

“This being the third time you've been in this week.” She turned to the class and added brightly, “I think that by now we've well and truly realised just how excited you are.”

“Ah,” Mr Skelton said, with the air of someone just about to pull a rabbit out of a hat, “but what you didn't know is that the headmaster has managed to obtain sponsorship for the winning team to go on the end-of-term science field trip to North Cornwall completely free, and”—he paused for effect—“those same sponsors, namely JG Industries, are going to present the winners with brand-new laptops.”

Several people in the class made “oooh” noises.

“Not only that, but thanks to the Headmaster's close ties with Seabourne University, he has also managed to obtain the services of the Vice Chancellor, Doctor Lorenzo Heeps, to adjudicate.”

Oz's stomach clenched. How on earth had Heeps and Gerber managed to muscle in on this? He glanced at Ruff. He, however, seemed not to have picked up on this bombshell, being too busy enjoying the spectacle of Skelton trying to impress Hippie Arkwright.

“So, those of you yet to finish, get a move on. And if anyone hasn't started, you have twenty-four hours,” Skelton said.

“Surely,” said Miss Arkwright, “it's a little late for anyone to start a project now if they haven't already done so.”

“Never too late, Madeline. That's my motto.”

Miss Arkwright was still smiling at him, though her brows had gathered at his insistent use of her first name. Oz sensed that she clearly thought Skelton not only presumptuous but also a bit bonkers. At the front, several people put their hands up.

“Sir,” asked Marcus Skyrme, “will it be the top twenty in the science class as well as the winners of the project who get to go on the field trip?”

“Alas, no. There are only twenty-two seats on the minibus. Therefore, only twenty students in total will get the opportunity to visit Bodmin Moor and the nearby coast and enjoy the rambles and ‘special treats' dreamt up by none other than myself.”

A few excited whispers rustled through the class.

“Shame that not everyone in the year can go,” Miss Arkwright said, adding a little admonishing tilt of her head.

“Indeed. However, we're limited by the size of the minibus. Even so,” he continued jovially, leaning in Miss Arkwright's direction, “there is one seat left for a female member of staff if you'd care to accompany us, Miss Arkwright.” If Skelton's grin got any wider, his face would split in half.

“Thank you, but no,” Miss Arkwright said firmly.

“Really?” Mr Skelton said, donning a crestfallen expression. He leaned in a bit more and whispered, “I'm sure you would find it both educational and enjoyable.”

“Camping out on a moor in April? Okay, I'll give it some thought.” Miss Arkwright looked pensively at the ceiling for all of two seconds before adding, “Right, thought about it, and the answer is still no.”

All of 2C laughed. Okay, Hippie Arkwright was a bit flaky, and a tad too earnest for Oz's liking, but she'd stood up for him when a gonk of a maths teacher had accused him of cheating in year seven exams. That, in Oz's book, made her definitely one of the good guys.

Mr Skelton stiffened. He looked like he was about to protest but thought better of it and, pink-faced, turned to leave just as the bell went.

“I thought Skelton was going to throw a hissy fit,” Ruff said as the three of them headed for geography a short time later.

“It's obvious he fancies Hippie Arkwright rotten,” Ellie said.

“I thought she and Mr Gingell had a thing going.” Ruff said.

“They do. Have had for months. Skelton's got no chance.”

“Still, it would have been great if Miss Arkwright could have come with us. Now it's going to be Miss Ladrop.” Ruff shook his head. “That's two seats on the bus gone already. One and a half for her and the other half for the Krispy Kreme donuts she's always stuffing in her face.”

Miss Ladrop taught business studies and was built, as Ruff had so aptly put it, like a “bowling ball on legs.” She also fancied Mr Skelton, judging by the way she fanned her face whenever he passed her in the corridor.

But Oz didn't really mind who supervised them on the field trip. He just looked forward to it, because it meant Ellie, Ruff, and he would be together, away from school, and away from idiots like Jenks and Skinner, who had about as much chance of being in the science top twenty as next door's cat had of winning Crufts. It was going to be great and he, for one, was looking forward to it immensely.

The one thing detracting from the pleasant tingle of anticipation he felt nagged at him as he followed the others to geography.

“What's up with you?” Ellie asked, seeing the worry lines on his forehead.

“I don't like the thought of Heeps and Gerber having their paws in this.”

“It doesn't necessarily mean that it has anything to do with”—Ellie dropped her voice as a gaggle of students passed—“Soph or the artefacts or anything.”

“You don't think so?”

“Well, yeah, but I mean Heeps
is
the vice chancellor of the Uni, and it's natural for him to show an interest in something educational,” she said. “And as for Gerber… well, he's trying to get as much publicity as possible for his business, isn't he? After all, we're exactly the people who'll be buying his games and stuff.”

Oz nodded grudgingly. JG Industries, Gerber's business, was developing a revolutionary new game console called SPEXIT, which was set to change the way people played video games. Oz had given these games a go once or twice, through his friends the Fanshaw twins, and had to admit they were pretty amazing.

“Maybe you're right,” Oz said, at the same time wishing he had even a quarter of Ellie's optimism.

“And maybe she's wrong,” Ruff said. “I'm with you, Oz. Heeps is a smarmy gonk. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could spit.”

“Three yards, then,” Ellie said, and Oz knew she was trying to make him feel better.

It didn't work.