Catch Your Death. Lauren Child
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Название: Catch Your Death

Автор: Lauren Child

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Детская проза

Серия:

isbn: 9780007523337

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ right: the one place where it was possible for a concealed door to be hidden was, just as she had thought, inside the caterpillar pipes. She thanked the stars that there was no Wendy house – that would have been a humiliation too far.

      Ruby fed herself into the wide metal tube like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was about twelve feet long and had other pipes wiggling off in different directions. It wasn’t at all dark because there were human-sized holes in the top of the tubes so the children could stick their heads out and call to mommy.

      Right in the middle of the pipe’s curved wall was a little sticker of a fly. A small child was gently picking at it, trying to peel it off and no doubt eat it. (Little kids were always eating things that didn’t need to be eaten – survival camp would be a breeze to them.) Ruby surmised that access to Spectrum must be directly below the fly sticker and therefore directly beneath the sticker-eating kid.

      The kid didn’t look like it was going anywhere; it seemed perfectly content sitting on its behind, mumbling away to itself.

      It had been a long time since Ruby was a toddler, but one thing she still remembered was that little kids are easily bribed.

      She took the packet of Hubble-Yum bubblegum out of her pocket and carefully placed a square of it in the kid’s view. The kid immediately began edging towards it, eyeing the gum greedily. It took a minute or so, but soon enough Ruby and the kid had switched places. Ruby felt around until she found the hidden latch; this she turned until a hole opened up big enough for her to fit through. She cautiously eased herself into it, half in half out, like a person getting into a cold pool, when suddenly she slipped, let go and fell down a long dark tube, the door clanking shut over her.

      She felt like Alice in Wonderland must have felt as she tumbled and slid and finally fell out of the tunnel, landing in a pitch-black nowhere.

      ‘Oh brother,’ she whined.

      ‘You made it,’ said a voice through the dark.

      Ruby shrieked.

      ‘I didn’t know you were afraid of the dark kid?’

      ‘You shouldn’t creep up on people like that man.’

      Ruby was lucky that she couldn’t see him smile; that would have put her nose out of joint worse than it was already. Hitch took her arm and led her along while she fumbled for her torch – she needn’t have bothered. The corridor went from dark to light, from stone grey to vivid green in about five paces, and at the end was a door painted the exact same shade. Hitch punched in a code and the door swung gently open.

      They stepped into the large Spectrum atrium with its spiralling black and white floor and its huge domed ceiling; on the far side was Buzz the telephone operator sitting within her circular desk, surrounded by a flock of coloured telephones.

      ‘Hey Buzz!’ shouted Ruby.

      Buzz peered at her over her unfashionable spectacles, spectacles that had not become unfashionable, but just never had been and never would be. Buzz responded with a feeble raise of her hand.

      ‘Friendly as ever,’ remarked Ruby.

      ‘Ah, she’s not really a kid-person,’ said Hitch.

      ‘Is she even a person-person?’ said Ruby.

      ‘No, I wouldn’t call Buzz a put people at their ease type; that’s kind of the point of her really,’ said Hitch. ‘LB doesn’t want someone chatty; she wants someone efficient.’

      They walked over to the desk and waited for Buzz to finish her conversation, if you could call it a conversation – it seemed to merely be a whole lot of yeses, noes and the occasional instruction.

      Buzz replaced the receiver and looked up at Hitch. She almost seemed to smile, but it could have been an involuntary mouth twitch caused by the throat lozenge she was sucking.

      ‘LB has requested you wait outside her office,’ she said, picking up a red receiver. ‘She can give you four minutes.’ Buzz began speaking down the phone in Mandarin.

      Hitch and Ruby made their way to the huge door beyond which lay LB’s office. They sat down on the stylish chairs arranged nearby and waited and then waited some more.

      The intercom symbol flashed on Hitch’s watch.

      He spoke into it, the voice came back in his ear and he winced, almost imperceptibly, but he did wince. He looked at her.

      ‘LB,’ he said. ‘She wants a word.’

      Ruby stood up and waited for Hitch to follow, but he stayed right where he was. ‘You not coming?’

      ‘No, you’re on your own kid. She wants to see you alone.’

      ‘Is that a good thing or a bad thing?’ asked Ruby.

      Hitch raised an eyebrow.

      ‘Oh,’ said Ruby. The eyebrow communicated a lot – it wasn’t going to be good news. ‘Does she want to congratulate me on my work in the training field?’

      ‘That’s what I like to hear, a good positive attitude,’ said Hitch. ‘Think happy thoughts.’

      Ruby beamed him a big fake smile. She turned to go.

      ‘Oh and kid, just remember: don’t make it any worse than it has to be,’ he warned. ‘I.e. I would suggest you lose the limp.’

      ‘Thanks for the advice,’ said Ruby, meaning it. She needed all the help she could get. ‘Wish me luck,’ she sighed, walking over to the large black door.

      ‘I wouldn’t rely on luck,’ said Hitch.

      Ruby knocked, waited for the voice to call ‘enter’ and went in.

      LB was sitting at her white desk, studying pieces of paper covered in dense notes. The all-white office gleamed; there was no colour at all in that room other than the red nail polish on LB’s bare feet, the red lipstick on her lips and the red perspex file on her desk.

      The file related to Ruby – she had seen it before. It contained a lot of information, Ruby’s past and present, her talents, her successes, her faults and her failures, and it was, Ruby feared, her faults and failures that LB wanted to discuss.

      ‘So Redfort, I hear you screwed up.’

      ‘I think you’re putting a very negative spin on it,’ said Ruby.

      ‘Please feel free to convince me that there is a positive spin to your performance – based on the fact that you completed your task arriving thirteen hours late?’

      ‘Twelve hours,’ muttered Ruby.

      LB checked the document again. ‘Oh yes, let’s be accurate: twelve hours, fifty-seven minutes and three seconds late.’

      That sounded worse.

      ‘I rustled the horse OK, I swam over the river, didn’t drown – I was just a little tardy is all.’

      LB looked down at her papers. ‘Let me check that. . СКАЧАТЬ