by Alice Castle
Beth had so expected to be fired that it took her a few moments to realise she’d been promoted instead. Astounded, she realised her jaw was hanging open slightly. So not a Wyatt’s look. She shut it with a snap, and it wasn’t at all difficult to pin a radiant smile to her face instead. Finally, it looked as though she had some work here to get her teeth into, and the perfect excuse to give her beloved archives the time and attention they truly deserved. However harrowing the secrets they contained, she was sure now that she was equal to the challenge of bringing them to light. After all, she’d seen worse.
And, if she felt it was a little lame of Wyatt’s to pass the blood-drenched issue of slavery off as just another school project, well, at least it was finally one truly worth the time and effort.
Her intelligent grey eyes met the Headmaster’s shrewd gaze. He’d been right in saying she felt loyal to Wyatt’s. She had done, since day one. She’d always admired the school and, now that she was part of it, that feeling was stronger still. Plus, this had to mean that her beloved Ben had a chance at a bursary, surely?
She smiled happily at Dr Grover, who looked a little disconcerted. As well he might. This great, grand Shire horse of a man had just been outmanoeuvred by a small but very determined sort of pony. Most of the time, Beth knew herself to be a shaggy little Shetland, long of fringe and short of leg, but every now and then she got a glimpse of the pretty little Fallabella she might become. Today was one of those times.
Dr Grover peered down at her with new respect, then smiled and shook her hand, as the Grand Hall clock struck the quarter. Which reminded Beth, she’d better get going, now.
Taking a quick leave of her colleagues, she raced across the velvety green of the Wyatt’s grass, contravening every known law of the school. But she didn’t have time to go the long way.
As she trotted through the streets, dodging the afterschool tangles of pushchairs and scooters, she should have been glowing with the knowledge that she was finally on the threshold of a worthwhile and satisfying new career at Wyatt’s. And she should have been luxuriating, too, in the profound relief of never having to deal with that infuriating policeman, Harry York, ever again.
But there was something a lot more pressing at the forefront of her mind.
She had to cobble together the entire solar system for Ben.
And she had to get the whole damn thing finished tonight, if they were going to be able to hold up their heads on the streets of Dulwich tomorrow.
THE END
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