Chapter 9- Under Control

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One of the dinner ladies was trudging across the playground, her eyes set on Abby's mobile with the beady determination one might see in an aggressive terrior. And not the friendly, tail-wagging sort either. Abby knew it wasn't polite to compare your teachers to dogs, but when the ground staff were as unpleasant as theirs, it didn't seem such a terrible crime.

"Who are we talking to, then?" The dinner lady came to a stop, glowering. "If you don't put that away, it'll be the Head you're chatting with next- about writing lines during your lessons!"

Abby could write for hours without tiring, but she feigned shock anyway.

"Sorry, Miss. Won't happen again, honest!" As she made her way into the building, towards the science corridor, she felt the woman's eyes prickling her back. Oh well. All dinner ladies had chips on their shoulders, from what she'd seen on TV and read in Luke's comics. But luckily, the woman had unwittingly given her an idea.

"I knew I'd find you here!" Abby burst into the science lab, earning a few wary glances from the lower-school students.

Luke just looked tired. "You don't need to act like a detective. The fair's tonight, in case you'd forgotten."

"I hadn't. But I don't see anyone else getting so stressed over it."

The Physics teacher, Mr Pierce, stopped to catch a labelled panel as it snapped off Luke's model. They had just finished incorporating a circuit which allowed the planets to rotate in their orbits.

"Can't say I disagree, but there's nothing wrong with a bit of extra work," he remarked. "Sure you'd know all about that, Abby- what with that writing you're doing."

Abby knew her journalism spread quite far across the neighbourhood, but she was always pleasantly surprised when teachers mentioned it.

"Yes," she admitted. "Although I don't go all stressed out and quiet over it. I guess Science is just less fun."

Luke dropped his head onto the scratched desk. Abby wanted to tell him to watch out for hardened gum, but felt a sudden rush of sympathy.

"This solar system model," she declared, "is great. Perfect, even. And you're not doing it any more favours by sleeping in the lab."

"Got to be the best," Luke mumbled. "Mm. Just about finished, I think."

Mr Pierce shook his head. "I think so too. Go on now; shoo! Go outside and play football, or cricket, or whatever it is you kids are into! Just leave that project and my classroom alone for a few hours!"

Luke grinned half-heartedly. "I might go and see the Nurse. What did you want, Abby?"

They slung their rucksacks across their backs and trudged down the corridor, shoulder to shoulder. The students surged around them like water flooding past rocks in the stream; definitely pack animals, yet glaze-eyed and detached.

"I was just thinking about Victoria's audition. I thought she might not know what she was doing- I mean I haven't seen her working on any ideas."

Luke raised a shoulder. "So she doesn't know what to do tonight?"

"She's clueless. I suppose she was planning to walk in and improvise, but we all know she's not as good an actress as she thinks she is."

"I don't know," Luke sighed. "I can't help. I can't even do paper-mâché properly, so why you want my help I have no idea..."

They were almost at Nurse Clara's office, and he was dying to dart inside and forget about everything for a few moments. It didn't have to be for long- just half an hour of their break. The Nurse was warm and familiar, and something about her gruff kindliness made everything alright.
He didn't want to talk to Abby. He didn't want to talk to Mum, or Mr Pierce, or anyone else at all for that matter. He just wanted to rest- and to win first prize. The project had started off as a fun sideline to homework and family life; but now he'd put so much effort into it, it honestly mattered. More than he'd expected it to, even.

Abby interrupted her brother. "I had an idea. See, since we'd been working together so much more lately; I thought Victoria's audition could echo that. Everyone's going to sing, or dance... or just show off, really."

"That's what talent's all about. Wouldn't catch me doing any of that!"

"Yeah, anyway, so I thought she could write something!" Abby swung to face him, alight with inspiration.

Luke frowned. He was tired. "You're the only one of us any good at writing. Layla can barely even read."

"I'm going to see the Head," his sister declared. "Maybe he could give us some time and a bit of space today; to all write something together that Victoria can perform. It could be a poem. Obviously she'd have to do most of the writing, but since we've already helped so much with her audition I don't think a bit more guidance would hurt."

"Whoa," Luke dropped his hand from the Nurse's office door. "That's not bad thinking. Yeah, a poem or a short story- about what's going on in her life now."

Abby beamed. "And since we only have a few hours, we could book out a classroom from the Head, to write it now. I'll call Victoria."

* *

The Headmaster was a small, wiry man with a liking for vibrant, printed ties to liven up his two-piece suits. However, the splash of colour was always overlooked due to the size of his nose. It was large. When he darted up and down the corridors, he almost looked like a flustered, slightly perplexed bird of prey. And it was a shame, because students and staff never really looked beyond his beaklike nose, and didn't end up getting to know him. And he really was a nice man, most of the time.

"I suppose that under your circumstances, you are permitted to have some time out of lesson," Mr Ling began. He had a niggling feeling that what he was saying might actually be against the rules, but he knew this family. They always got what they wanted in the end, so why bother arguing about it?
"But I want you to, ah, think very hard about your work. Come out of that room with a valuable lesson learnt."

"And we will, I'm sure," said Luke worriedly once they were set up in the classroom. "You don't think he's put cameras up, do you?"

"There are cameras everywhere," said Nathan. "Otherwise nobody would get found out. Thanks for getting me out of lesson, though."

Victoria felt very out of place sitting on one of the red plastic chairs. It wasn't a good feeling, either- those were the same desks that she had laboured at for hours in detention, years before. The same sneering clock that she had gazed at throughout countless exams. And of course, the worst part of it all was facing the same teachers who had despaired over her reports year after year.

"I didn't ask you to think of an audition for me, Abby," she hissed. "People shouldn't have to go back to school twice in one week!"

Abby sighed. "I'm not thinking for anyone! I did that enough for you when you were at school. This is the last chance we have to think of anything, together."

They looked at each other; with a mixture of frustration and affection. Mostly frustration. Then Victoria picked up the pencil and started to write.

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