Soul Stealer Read Online Free Page A

“… earthy.”
    “Who cares?” Tim said. “We’ll just give him a wide berth. He’ll sort himself out in time and we can ignore him. It’s a big
     school — there must be at least two hundred in Year Seven alone. We don’t have to come across him if we don’t want to.”
    Back in the chemistry laboratory, more formalities were completed. Scrotton came and sat around the corner of the bench, close
     to Tim. From there, he kept looking at him, as if studying him or trying to catch his eye to engage him in conversation. Every
     now and then he cast a quick look in Mr. Yoland’s direction. The teacher, save just once when he briefly acknowledged Scrotton’s
     look, ignored him. Tim similarly did his best to pay him no attention.
    When the lunchtime bell rang, Pip and Tim collected their food from their lockers and followed everyone else to a huge room
     marked
Dining Hall.
At oneend was a counter selling cartons of juice or milk, soft drinks, biscuits, sweets, fruit, salad boxes and pre-packed sandwiches.
     Down the center were rows of plastic tables and chairs. Pip and Tim chose a table and sat down, opening their lunch boxes.
     They had just started to eat when Scrotton approached them and positioned himself across the table. He did not appear to have
     any food.
    “What have you got?” he inquired.
    “Sandwiches,” Pip said.
    “What’s in ‘em?” Scrotton demanded.
    Tim kicked Pip’s ankle under the table, but he was too late.
    “Cheese and tomato,” she replied.
    “Give me one. I forgot mine,” Scrotton retorted.
    “No,” said Tim firmly. “If you want something, go and buy it.”
    “Forgot me money,” Scrotton answered.
    “Tough!” Tim exclaimed and he purposefully bit into his first sandwich, holding it so that Scrotton could see it and adding,
     “Mine’re Marmite and lettuce.”
    Scrotton gave them both a sneer and walked away to disappear among the tables.
    “Charming!” Pip exclaimed.
    “Every school’s got one,” Tim observed.
    For the remainder of the day, Pip and Tim visited all their different subject teachers. In each classroom, they were given
     sets of text and exercise books. They gathered them all up and put them in their lockers. For one period, they were separated
     to be placed into groups for games and PE.
    The last period of the day involved returning to thechemistry laboratory to be dismissed by Mr. Yoland, who stood by the door as they filed out.
    Walking past the teacher, Pip momentarily felt the strangest sensation. Although he was standing at least two meters from
     her with his arms folded across his chest, looking down the corridor at the other departing pupils, she somehow felt he was
     reaching out towards her. It was, she thought, as if she was going through a sort of magnetic field which was attracting every
     cell in her body, tingling every muscle and tugging at every nerve. A meter behind Mr. Yoland stood Scrotton, ostensibly rummaging
     in a grubby sports bag yet watching her intently at the same time.
    “Well, kids, how’s your day been?” asked Mr. Ledger as they got into his car.
    “It’s a huge school,” Tim said. “Lots of equipment and stuff. Not like the junior school at all.”
    “No,” said Mr. Ledger. “This is the real thing. Secondary education. Learning in the raw! No more playing in the sandpit,
     sitting on the story mat, cuddling Georgie the gerbil and eating the play dough.”
    “Do you have any idea at all what we actually did in junior school, Dad?” Pip inquired.
    For a moment, Mr. Ledger took his eyes off the road ahead and grinned broadly at them over the back of the driver’s seat.
    “Not a clue,” he said and he winked.
    Immediately after tea, Pip and Tim went up to their rooms, arranged their school books on their bedroom shelves and changed
     out of their uniforms. Pip then sat on her bed and, with Tim at her side, leaned towardsthe wall, giving a few tentative taps on the wooden paneling. For a moment, there