Class A

by Robert Muchamore

  James clambered on to his mattress; half horrified, half curious to see who would win. There was no way for him or Gabrielle to get help: the fight was blocking the doorway.

  Within seconds of hitting the floor, years of self-defence training collapsed to the level of two drunks grappling on a pavement. Bruce had a clump of Kerry’s hair wound around his wrist and Kerry was dragging her nails down Bruce’s cheek. They thrashed about, cursing one another and eventually rolling into the TV table. The first couple of knocks rocked the TV close to the edge. The third made the TV topple, face first, into the floor. The glass screen cracked and orange sparks spewed across the floor. Some of them hit Bruce and Kerry’s bare legs, then the lights went out and the ceiling fans went silent.

  James looked out of the window. All the lights outside had gone too. The exploding TV had fused the electricity for the whole hostel. The fight kept going, but all James could discern were shadows and grunts.

  Now Bruce and Kerry were over by the TV, James had an opportunity to get help. He sprang off his bed and grabbed the door handle. Gabrielle thought the same thing at the same moment and they nearly collided in the dark.

  The corridor was tinged with green emergency escape lighting. Kids had their heads sticking out of their rooms, all asking each other why the electricity had gone off. James could hear Arif, a seventeen-year-old kid who was over six feet tall. He was exactly what was needed to break up the fight.

  ‘Help us,’ James shouted. ‘Bruce and Kerry are killing each other.’

  That exact moment, someone reset the fuse and the lights came back on. Arif ran towards James’ room, along with twenty other kids who wanted to get a look at the action. Arif was first into the room, followed by James and Gabrielle.

  Bruce was nowhere. Kerry was in the middle of the floor. Her face was twisted with pain and she had her hands wrapped over her knee.

  ‘Oh god,’ she sobbed. ‘Help me.’

  Kerry had shattered her kneecap in training a couple of years earlier. It had been repaired with titanium pins, but it was still weak. Arif scooped her off the floor and sprinted downstairs to the first aid room.

  ‘Where the hell is Bruce?’ Gabrielle asked angrily.

  James shooed the onlookers out and slammed the door. He leaned into the bathroom.

  ‘God knows. He’s not in there.’

  Then he heard a sob under Bruce’s duvet. Bruce was a skinny thing, so when he pulled the covers up over his head it was easy to assume he wasn’t there at all.

  ‘Bruce?’ James asked.

  ‘I didn’t mean to hurt her knee,’ Bruce sobbed. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘If you start a fight, people get hurt,’ Gabrielle said severely. ‘That’s how it works.’

  James had more sympathy. He sat on the edge of Bruce’s bed.

  ‘Leave me alone, James. I’m not coming out.’

  ‘Bruce, come downstairs with me,’ James said. ‘Everyone loses their temper sometimes. I’m sure the staff will understand and – speaking from personal experience – it’s always best if you get your own side of the story in first.’

  ‘No,’ Bruce sobbed. ‘Go away.’

  Meryl Spencer, a retired Olympic sprinter who was James’ handler, burst into the room. She’d been in bed and was wearing a nightshirt and unlaced trainers.

  ‘What’s happened here?’ Meryl shouted.

  ‘They got in a fight,’ James explained. ‘Bruce is under his duvet and won’t come out.’

  Meryl smiled. ‘Won’t he now?’

  She leaned over the bed.

  ‘Bruce,’ she shouted. ‘You’re gonna have to face the music for hurting Kerry. Stop acting like a baby and get out of there.’

  ‘Go away,’ Bruce said, tightening the duvet around his head. ‘You can’t make me come out.’

  ‘You’ve got three seconds,’ Meryl shouted. ‘Or I’m gonna seriously lose my temper.’

  Bruce didn’t move a muscle.

  ‘One,’ Meryl said. ‘Two … Three.’

  On three, Meryl grabbed the tubular frame of Bruce’s bed and tipped it on to its side. Bruce thumped on to the floor and Meryl whipped the duvet off him.

  ‘Stand up,’ she shouted. ‘You’re eleven years of age, not five.’

  Bruce jumped to his feet. His face was a teary mess. Meryl grabbed his shoulder and shoved him up against the wall.

  ‘I want all three of you in my office. You’re in serious trouble. This kind of behaviour is not acceptable.’

  ‘Me and Gabrielle didn’t do anything,’ James pleaded. ‘We tried to break it up.’

  ‘We’ll discuss it in my office,’ Meryl said. She took a breath and realised that James and Bruce still stank.

  ‘You two have ten minutes to shower, put clean clothes on and get downstairs. And if anyone starts up this hiding under the duvet nonsense again, I’ll have them running laps until they puke, every day for the rest of their miserable lives.’

  4. GRASS

  ‘What did you do this time?’ Lauren asked. ‘When did you get back to campus? How come they sent you home early?’

  James was half asleep in bed and he wasn’t in the mood for his nine-year-old sister. Lauren had knocked on his bedroom door three times. When James ignored her, she picked the lock. The most irritating thing about living at CHERUB was that every kid knew how to pick locks. James was planning to buy a bolt next time he went into town. There’s no way to pick a bolt.

  ‘Come on,’ Lauren said, sitting herself on the swivel chair at James’ desk. ‘Spill the beans. Everyone saw the ambulance take Kerry to the medical unit.’

  Lauren was James’ only family since their mum had died the year before. James loved his sister, but he still spent a lot of his life wishing she’d go some place and stick her head in a bucket. She could be a total pain.

  ‘Tell us,’ Lauren said sharply. ‘You know I’ll just sit here bugging you until you do.’

  James threw back his duvet and sat up, picking at a gluey eye.

  ‘Why are you up so early?’ he asked. ‘It’s pitch black outside.’

  ‘It’s half past ten,’ Lauren said, turning slowly around on the chair. ‘But it’s raining.’

  James swung out of bed and peered through the blind. Rain trickled down his window. The sky was grey and the outdoor tennis courts were under water.

  ‘Great,’ James said. ‘There’s nothing like British summer to cheer you up.’

  ‘You’ve got a good tan,’ Lauren said. ‘Mine’s almost gone and I’ve only been back from the hostel three weeks.’

  ‘Best holiday I’ve ever had.’ James grinned. ‘We’ll have to try and fix it so we go at the same time next year. Me, Kerry and about six other kids had this massive race on the quad bikes.’

  ‘Racing’s not allowed,’ Lauren said.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ James smiled, guiltily. ‘Anyway, there was a humungous crash. Me and Shakeel. You should have seen the state the bikes were in. Front tyres ripped off, petrol gushing everywhere. It was mad.’

  ‘Did you get hurt?’

  ‘Shakeel twisted his ankle, that’s all. I can’t wait for next year.’

  Lauren smiled. ‘We dared Bethany’s brother to drive one of the quad bikes through the dining room. It was so funny when he got busted … Anyway, are you gonna tell us why they kicked your butts home early, or not?’

  James slumped miserably back on his bed, realising he was now about as far as you get from racing over sand dunes.

  ‘I got totally stitched up,’ he said.

  ‘Give over, James, you always say that.’

  ‘Yeah, but this time it’s true. Bruce and Kerry had a punch-up. They trashed our room and Kerry busted her knee, but Meryl sent me and Gabrielle home early as well. We’ve got to go and see the Chairman this afternoon.’

  ‘You must have done something,’ Lauren said.

  ‘Lauren, all me and Gabrielle did was try to break the fight up. It was a total miscarriage of justice. Meryl wouldn’t let me get o
ne word in.’

  ‘Makes up for all the things you haven’t been caught for,’ Lauren grinned. ‘How’s Kerry?’

  ‘She’s in loads of pain. They had to do a medivac: flew her home on a special plane because she can’t bend her leg.’

  ‘Poor Kerry,’ Lauren said.

  ‘I’ll go and see how she is when I’ve got my uniform on. You coming?’

  ‘I’ve got Karate class in a minute,’ Lauren said, shaking her head. ‘I want to be in top form when my basic training starts.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ James grinned. ‘Only a month to go now. I’m gonna have such a laugh hearing about all the ways the instructors make you suffer.’

  Lauren folded her arms and scowled at her brother. ‘You’re not scaring me, you know.’

  *

  The medical unit was a ten-minute walk from the main building. When James got to Kerry’s room, Gabrielle was already there.

  ‘Look what your friend did to her,’ Gabrielle said, as if it was somehow James’ fault.

  Kerry was propped up on pillows beneath a Nil By Mouth sign. MTV blared from the portable TV hanging over her bed. She was on painkillers, but still had wet eyes and looked like she hadn’t slept.

  James put Kerry’s MP3 player on her bedside table.

  ‘Thought some tunes might help take your mind off it,’ he said. ‘Hope you don’t mind me going in your room.’

  ‘No problem,’ Kerry said. ‘Cheers.’

  ‘Has the doctor seen you?’ James asked.

  Kerry nodded, pointing to a light box on the wall.

  ‘Show James the thingy,’ she said.

  There was already an X-ray mounted on the light box. Gabrielle walked up and switched on the lamp.

  ‘That’s Kerry’s kneecap,’ Gabrielle explained, pointing to a round grey area on the X-ray. ‘See the four black bars?’

  James nodded.

  ‘Those are the metal pins put in when Kerry broke her kneecap two years ago. When Bruce twisted Kerry’s leg, that pin there shifted. So now Kerry’s got a piece of metal sticking out the back of her kneecap. Every time she moves, the metal cuts into the tendons underneath.’

  ‘Yuk,’ James winced. ‘What can they do about that?’

  ‘They’re taking her to hospital,’ Gabrielle said. ‘They’re operating this afternoon. Kerry can’t eat or drink before the anaesthetic. They’re going under her kneecap and cutting out the bent metal. The broken bone has grown back together, so the metal isn’t doing anything now anyway.’

  James felt queasy imagining surgical instruments poking around inside his leg.

  ‘OOOOOOOOHHH god!’ Kerry screamed.

  ‘What?’ James asked, rushing over to the bed. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Kerry said. ‘I just moved my foot. This is actually more painful than when I broke my knee.’

  She let out a low groan. James sat beside the bed and stroked her hand.

  ‘Has Bruce been to see you?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ Gabrielle huffed. ‘Like that little jerk would have enough class to come and apologise.’

  ‘James,’ Kerry said, ‘will you do us a favour?’

  ‘Course,’ James said. ‘Name it.’

  ‘Go and see Bruce. Tell him I’m not making a big deal out of this.’

  ‘You call this no big deal?’ James laughed. ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Kerry said. ‘I don’t want this turning into some massive feud. Remember I told you I broke Bruce’s leg when we were red shirts?’

  ‘Sure,’ James said.

  ‘It was in Karate practice. Bruce fell awkwardly. I came down on him full force and crunched his leg. I never should have done something like that in a practice. Bruce was cool about it. He shrugged it off like it was nothing. Everyone does stupid stuff sometimes. Remember that one, James?’

  Kerry held out the palm of her right hand. It had a long scar where James had stomped it during training. ‘You can’t hold grudges against people for every mistake they make,’ she said.

  ‘Point taken,’ James said. ‘I’ll speak to him.’

  *

  James hated the row of plastic seats outside the Chairman’s office. If you had to see him for something good, Dr McAfferty – usually known as Mac – let you straight in. When you were in trouble, he kept you hanging outside in suspense. James sat between Gabrielle and Bruce. He was combed and deodorised, in his neatest set of CHERUB uniform: polished boots, army-green trousers and a navy T-shirt with the CHERUB logo embroidered on the front. The other two wore the same, except they were only entitled to wear grey T-shirts. Bruce had four red lines down his face where Kerry had clawed him.

  Kerry might have forgiven Bruce, but Gabrielle wasn’t talking to him. James felt like he was on a tightrope. Every time he said something to one of them, the other one huffed as if he was siding against them. James realised it was easiest if he kept quiet.

  They waited a good half hour before Mac finally leaned out of his doorway. He was in his sixties, with a neat grey beard and a Scottish accent.

  ‘Come on then,’ Mac said wearily. ‘Let’s sort you three out.’

  James led the way towards Mac’s mahogany desk.

  ‘No, no, come and look at this,’ Mac said, heading towards an architectural model standing on a table by the window.

  The kids stepped up to the model of a crescent-shaped building. It was a metre long, made entirely out of white plastic, with polystyrene trees and tiny white figures walking along paths outside.

  ‘What is it?’ James asked.

  ‘It’s our new mission preparation building,’ Mac said enthusiastically. ‘We’re turning those shabby offices on the eighth floor into extra living space and building this beauty to replace them. Over five thousand square metres of office space. Every big mission will have its own office, with new computers and equipment. We’ll have encrypted satellite links to our mission controllers all over the world, as well as to British Intelligence headquarters and the CIA and DOHS in America. This model just arrived from the architect’s office. Isn’t it fantastic?’

  The kids nodded. Even if they’d hated it, they wouldn’t have wanted to get on Mac’s bad side by saying so. Mac treated CHERUB campus like his own personal Lego set. He was always having something built or knocked down.

  ‘It’s an eco-building,’ Mac enthused, lifting the plastic roof off so the kids could see the offices filled with miniature furniture inside. ‘Special glass retains the heat, so it stays warm in the winter. Solar panels on the roof power fans and heat the water.’

  ‘When’s it being built?’ Bruce asked.

  ‘It’s already being made in prefabricated sections in a factory in Austria,’ Mac said. ‘That way we can minimise the number of construction workers we have to let loose on campus. Once the concrete base is poured, the whole lot is bolted together in a few weeks. Fitting out the interior should be completed early in the New Year. You wouldn’t believe the amount of arm twisting I’ve had to do to secure the funding.’

  ‘It’s really cool,’ James said, hoping his enthusiasm would translate into a lighter punishment.

  ‘Anyway, I suppose I have to sort you three hooligans out,’ Mac said. He clearly would have preferred to go on about his new building for the rest of the afternoon. ‘Plant your bums at my desk.’

  The three kids sat in the leather chairs opposite Mac. Mac leaned over his desk, interlocked his fingers and stared at them.

  ‘I’ve already spoken to Kerry,’ he said. ‘So what have you lot got to say for yourselves?’

  ‘It’s well unfair that me and Gabrielle got sent home,’ James said. ‘We were the ones who tried to break the fight up.’

  He noticed Lauren and her best friend, Bethany, with their noses squished against the outside of the window behind Mac’s desk.

  ‘As I understand from Meryl Spencer,’ Mac said, ‘the four of you came back from a training exercise, went into your room and began taunting one another and bick
ering. Is that true?’

  The kids gave a mix of shrugs and nods. Outside, Lauren and Bethany were sticking their tongues out and mouthing rude words.

  ‘As far as I’m concerned, that makes all four of you responsible for what happened,’ Mac said. ‘Gentle ribbing leads to teasing, which leads to nastiness and, as in this instance, it sometimes leads to violence and an eight-thousand-pound bill for an air ambulance. While each of you is serving your punishment, I want you to reflect that you’d all be enjoying another two weeks of holiday if you’d had the sense to behave decently towards one another instead of winding each other up. Is that understood?’

  The three kids nodded. James hated how Mac’s way of twisting the facts around made him feel partly responsible for Kerry getting hurt. What made him even more annoyed was Lauren sticking a sheet of paper up to the window that said JAMES SUCKS in giant black letters. Gabrielle couldn’t stop herself smirking.

  ‘By way of punishments, I want the three of you to report to the head gardener after you finish lessons every afternoon. We don’t have enough staff to give the lawns the attention they deserve in the summer, but you guys putting in two hours’ mowing a day for the next month will certainly help.’

  James groaned to himself. With extra fitness training in the mornings and mowing in the evenings, the next month was turning into a nightmare.

  ‘Any questions?’ Mac asked.

  The kids shook their heads and stood up to leave.

  ‘And James,’ Mac said.

  James turned back. ‘What?’

  Mac raised a picture frame off his desk and turned it towards James. It showed Mac, standing with his wife, his six grown-up children and an ocean of little grandkids.

  ‘James, would you kindly inform your sister that the glass in this picture frame gives me a very good reflection of everything that’s going on outside my window. I want to see Lauren and Bethany in this office and you can tell them that they’ll be joining you on gardening duty for the rest of the week.’

  5. SLEEP