Dorcas had wanted to sit on Manfred’s other side she was out of luck. Squeezed in, between Manfred and Joshua Tilpin, were two extraordinary-looking girls They both had very shiny black hair, cut just below their ears, a deep fringe and a complexion that was so pale and smooth it looked like porcelain.
Twins, obviously, thought Charlie. If they’re real. For the girls’ faces were so blank, and their bodies so still, they might have been dolls.
Dorcas shuffled round the table and put her books next to Joshua’s. He gave her one of his beaming crooked-toothed smiles, and Dorcas actually smiled back.
‘Now that we’re all here,’ said Manfred, glancing at Dorcas, ‘I want to explain a few things. First of all, you probably didn’t expect to see me again. Well, you’re stuck with me.’ No one made a sound except Asa, who snorted.
‘I’m now a teaching assistant,’ Manfred went on importantly. ‘My job description is to supervise your homework, monitor your progress, invigilate exams, and to help with any personal or work-related problems.’ He paused to take a breath and Charlie wondered who on earth would want to ask the ex-head-boy for help.
‘Now, for introductions.’ Manfred named everyone at the table until he came to the inscrutable girls beside him. ‘And these are the twins, Inez and Idith Branko.’
As soon as their names were mentioned, the twins bent their heads and stared at the books in front of them. With alarming speed the books flew across the table. One pile landed in Charlie’s lap, and the other in Tancred’s.
‘Oh, no!’ Tancred grunted. ‘Telekinetics.’ The sleeves of his cape ballooned out, his blond hair crackled and a draught sent a shiver through the loose sheets of paper lying on the table.
‘I see that the summer holidays haven’t improved your self-control, Tancred,’ said Manfred in a mocking tone.
Tancred and Charlie stood up and handed the twins’ books back across the table. The girls didn’t say a word, and their faces remained completely blank.
Charlie couldn’t resist remarking, ‘It’s polite to say thank you.’
Idith and Inez remained silent, but one of them, who knows which, shot him a very nasty look.
‘Try and be pleasant to the new girls, Bone,’ said Manfred. ‘The twins are related to Zelda Dobinsky, who has left us. Apparently, she is a mathematical genius, so she’s gone to university at a very early age. Unfortunately, Asa here is the opposite of a genius. He’s still with us because he failed all his exams.’
Scowling with embarrassment, Asa hunched even further down in his seat and Charlie felt a rare twinge of sympathy for him. To be ridiculed by someone he admired must have been very painful.
‘Last, but not least, we have Joshua Tilpin,’ Manfred announced.
On hearing his name, Joshua leapt up and made a bow. Anyone would have thought he was a prince. And yet he looked a mess. His green cape was covered in dust, there were leaves and grass in his hair, and a cobweb hung from one ear.
‘Sit down, Joshua,’ said Manfred. ‘You’re not a pop star.’
Joshua beamed at him and, to everyone’s amazement, Manfred smiled back. Getting a smile out of Manfred was like getting jam out of a stone.
Whatever next? thought Charlie. He was just about to start his homework when Manfred said, ‘Charlie Bone, you didn’t bring me your lines.’
‘Oh, sorry, Manfred. I’ve got them here.’ Charlie fumbled in his bag.
‘I asked you to bring them to my study.’
‘But . . . I don’t know where it is,’ Charlie confessed.
Manfred sighed. He looked at the ceiling and declared,
‘I am behind words
on the way to music
beneath a wing
and before trumpets, masks and brushes.’
He paused for effect and brought his gaze back to Charlie. ‘Do I make myself clear?’
In any other circumstances, Charlie would have said, ‘Clear as ditchwater,’ but as the situation was already pretty grim, he decided to say, ‘Yes, Manfred.’
‘Good. Then bring your lines to my study before bedtime, or it’s detention for you.’
Detention for Charlie
Charlie was lucky to have a friend like Lysander Sage. Lysander always finished his homework early, and today, as soon as his work was done, he applied himself to Manfred’s riddle.
As Charlie was leaving the King’s Room, Lysander grabbed his arm. ‘I think I know where Manfred’s study is,’ he whispered. ‘Let’s go and find our dorms and I’ll explain.’
Billy Raven had crept up on them. ‘Can I come with you?’ he asked Charlie.
‘Billy Raven, I want a word with you.’ Manfred stood outside the King’s Room, looking at the three boys.
Billy gave a resigned shrug and walked back to Manfred.
‘Poor kid,’ said Lysander, under his breath. He began to explain how he had interpreted Manfred’s riddle.
‘I started at the end,’ he said. ‘Trumpets, masks and brushes must refer to the signs above our cloakrooms. So Manfred’s study is before you get to them. If it’s on the way to music, then it must be somewhere down that long passage to the music tower, and that’s beneath the west wing – get it?’
‘Mm,’ said Charlie. ‘But what about the words? Behind words, he said.’
‘Words are in books,’ said Lysander. ‘I reckon if you can find a bookcase in that passage, Manfred’s study will be behind it. Bookcases are often used as doors to secret rooms.’
‘Wow! You’ve got it, Sander. I did see a bookcase down there. Brilliant! Thanks!’
‘You’re welcome. Hope it works.’
They had reached the first dormitories and began to scan the lists of names pinned to each door. Lysander found that he was still sharing with Tancred, and to Charlie’s relief he saw his own name on a list with Fidelio’s. Billy’s name was at the bottom.
Fidelio was already unpacking his bag. He’d saved a bed beside his for Charlie. The dormitory was almost exactly the same as last year’s. Six narrow beds on each side of a long bleak room, with a single dim light bulb hanging in the centre.
Charlie quickly shoved all his possessions in a bedside cabinet and hung his cape on its hook. ‘I’m going to try and find Manfred’s study,’ he told Fidelio. ‘Can you cover for me if Matron comes in?’
‘I’ll say you’re in the bathroom,’ said Fidelio. ‘Good luck.’
Charlie was halfway down the passage when he met an excited Billy Raven coming the other way.
‘I’m being adopted,’ said Billy. ‘Manfred just told me.’
‘That’s great!’ cried Charlie. Billy had always longed to be adopted.
The small boy touched his white hair. ‘I wonder why they want me. I mean, they could have chosen any boy. Someone nicer looking, someone different.’
‘Who are they? asked Charlie, suddenly concerned for Billy.
‘They’re called de Grey. Mr and Mrs de Grey. They’re a bit older than I expected, actually. Manfred showed me a photo. But he says they’re nice, and very kind. And they’ve got a lovely house. I shall have my own room with everything I could want, even a TV, he says. Imagine, my own TV.’