by Susie Bower
Saddo (whose name was actually Isaac) had made a card with a picture of a beaming clown on it.
Rule Boy’s card said:
Happy Birthday, Antsy! (Sorry—Flynn!!!) from Amadeus xxx
Finn’s card had a paw print and lots of crosses, and said:
HAPY BIRDAY TWIN
Uncle Felix’s card was a picture of a circus ring, with an acrobat standing on her hands, wearing a gold leotard just like mine. He had cut out her head and stuck on a photo of me. Inside he had written:
To my dearest niece, Flynn Gold,
Enjoy the enclosed!
With all my love,
Uncle Felix xxxxxxx
PS ‘Felix’ means ‘happy’—and I am, now that
I’ve found you and your brother again.
There were two smaller envelopes within the card. I opened the first envelope, and gasped.
‘What-is-it? What-is-it?’ said Ariale.
‘It’s for me and Finn to go to circus school all through the summer holidays!’ I said, and cartwheeled round the room.
The sound of music filled the air, and in walked Amadeus, a violin under his chin, playing ‘Happy birthday’ while Isaac and Finn (carrying a handful of envelopes of his own) bounced along behind him, singing the words.
‘You’ve got a new violin!’ I said. ‘Where did you get it?’
‘Isn’t it brilliant?’ he replied. ‘It’s a present from my dad. And there’s something even better.’
‘What?’ I said.
‘My dad’s been proved innocent! The conductor of the orchestra admitted that it was him who stole the money. My dad’s coming home.’
I gave him an enormous hug.
‘Come on, Flynn!’ said Ariale. ‘You’ve still got another envelope to open!’
I opened the last envelope. Inside were six tickets.
‘We’re all going to the circus tonight!’ I said.
Ariale and I grabbed each other and danced round and round.
‘What did you get, Finn?’ I asked him.
He handed over three tickets.
‘A trip to the safari park—today!’ I said. ‘Just you and me and Uncle Felix!’
‘So far away park?’ said Finn, looking puzzled.
‘It’s a big sort of wildlife park you drive through,’ explained Isaac. ‘Where there are wild animals.’
‘Animals,’ said Finn, nodding. ‘Lion.’ And his face lit up in a huge smile.
*
It was a long drive to the safari park—by taxi, of course, as Uncle Felix couldn’t drive. Luckily the plump taxi driver, whose name was Maurice, was friendly. I sat in the front, next to him, telling him about circus school and how Uncle Felix had taught me to be an acrobat and a juggler. Uncle Felix and Finn were in the back. Finn had fallen asleep. He looked really different with short hair—and now that he allowed Ariale to wash it for him, it sprang from his head in rusty curls, just like Uncle Felix’s and mine. We’d had to coax him into the taxi, as he’d never been in one before, but once inside he’d been fascinated by the numbers on the meter, and had got Maurice to wind the windows up and down, and to let him open the doors and slam them, over and over.
When we got to the safari park, there was nothing to see at first. It looked like any old park, with grass and trees and a few other cars winding their way through it. Far in the distance, a group of zebras grazed. Then we rounded a corner and Maurice brought the taxi to a halt.
‘Over there—see?’ he said. ‘By those rocks…’
I looked. There, on the grass, lay a lioness. I could tell she was a female lion, because she didn’t have a long mane. I’d never seen a real lioness before, but I’d always imagined them as graceful and strong and powerful. This one’s fur looked moth-eaten and mangy, and her tail barely flickered to keep away the flies. Her ear twitched at the sound of the taxi and she yawned. Then she lifted her head and stared at us for a moment with sad, blank eyes.
I turned to Uncle Felix. ‘There’s a lioness,’ I said in a low voice, because I didn’t want to scare her away. ‘Wake up, Finn!’
Uncle Felix gave Finn’s shoulder a gentle shake, and he opened his eyes.
‘Look,’ I whispered.
Finn sat up quickly and gazed out of the window. I felt a bit worried that the lioness looked so old and sad. What if we’d driven all this way only for Finn to be upset and disappointed?
But Finn had his nose pressed to the window, staring at the lioness as if his body had turned to stone. From his throat came a sound I’d never heard him make before. Then, before any of us could stop him, he’d unlocked the door, flung it open and leapt out into the road.
‘’Ere!’ shouted Maurice. ‘You mustn’t—’
‘Finn!’ I screamed. ‘What are you doing? Get back in the car—it’s dangerous!’
But for once, he ignored me.
I turned to Uncle Felix, who was sitting quite still, peering towards the lioness, a strange look on his face. Maybe he hadn’t realized Finn had got out of the taxi.
‘Uncle Felix!’ I yelled. ‘Finn’s got out. Do something!’
To my surprise, Uncle Felix was smiling—really smiling—a broad beam which almost cut his face in two. ‘It’s OK, Flynn,’ he said quietly. ‘Let him be.’
Finn dropped on to all fours and moved slowly towards the lioness, never taking his eyes from her. When he was a few metres away, he stopped.
He and the lioness faced one another. I could barely breathe. The lioness was three times as big as him. Please, I thought, don’t let me lose him as soon as I’ve found him.
Then Finn got up on his knees in the dust.
‘Mama!’ he cried out.
The lioness lifted her muzzle as if to smell his voice. She raised herself unsteadily on all four paws and limped to him. He stayed stock-still as she lowered her face to his and licked his nose.
Her whole body vibrated with a mighty, echoing roar, and Finn roared back, over and over again, and suddenly there was no way of telling them apart. They were a rolling, licking, growling, crying, pawing, yelping, stroking, roaring bundle.
I looked at Uncle Felix. He too had tears in his eyes.
‘Kula?’ I said, but I already knew the answer.
He nodded, and we held hands, and I knew that from now on, everything would be different. Soon, Finn and I would be at circus school. It would be exciting. But could it be even half as exciting as the School for Nobodies?
‘I thought life hated me,’ I said. ‘It took away my mum and dad and made me live with Sonia and Claude. But it’s given me back my twin brother, and my uncle, and Kula and all my friends. It’s given me a real family.’
Uncle Felix smiled his crooked smile.
‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘life loves you after all.’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Writing a book is a strange, solitary thing to do—months of sitting alone in front of a screen with only your imagination for company—which makes me so very grateful to all the people who helped this book come into the world.
Thanks to my brilliant agent Silvia Molteni for loving and believing in School for Nobodies from the very start and taking it—and me—on. For your wise advice and brilliant notes, and above all for your tireless enthusiasm on its behalf.
Thanks to the amazing Sarah Odedina, editor-at-large, and all at Pushkin Press for bringing School for Nobodies to birth; to Madeleine Stevens for her eagle-eyed edit; and to Thy Bui, whose illustrations made me cry, literally, with joy. It has been a privilege to work with you all.
I’ve been lucky enough to have a band of cheerleaders and teachers, without whom not a single word would have been written. Huge thanks to Louise Dean at The Novelry, whose Classics course planted the seed for School for Nobodies and who spoke a lot of sense when I hit my customary doldrums. To Alison Powell of Write Club, and all the writers who read the early chapters and offered wise feedback. To Jane Pollard, whose course kick-started my writing in a new direction back in 2006. To all the members of
Book Frisbees—the best writing group in the world—for cheering me on and keeping my head above water when the waves hit. And to my dear friends—you know who you are—who listened, laughed and cared.
Flynn was lucky enough to find her pot of Gold—loyal friends and a loving family. May you all be similarly blessed.
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COPYRIGHT
Pushkin Press
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London wc2h 9jq
The right of Susie Bower to be identified as the author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988
Copyright © Susie Bower 2020
School for Nobodies was first published in 2020 by Pushkin Press
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ISBN 13: 978–1–78269–271–3
eISBN 13: 978–1–78269–272–0
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