Blink and You Die. Lauren Child

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      ‘Well, that doesn’t sound quite polite,’ said the housekeeper.

      ‘I mean you look different.’ Ruby stared hard at her. ‘Tanned!’ she said, finally figuring out what had changed.

      ‘Well, since you ask, I’ve been cruising.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘I’ve been cruising around the Caribbean.’

      Ruby looked stunned.

      ‘On a boat.’

      ‘I know what a cruise is,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m just interested to understand how you got to be on one.’

      ‘I won it fair and square.’

      ‘Won what?’

      ‘A cruise.’

      ‘How?’

      ‘In a competition. I won it and took Cousin Emily along with me.’

      ‘What competition?’ asked Ruby.

      ‘Well, that’s the curious thing,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘I don’t exactly remember entering one, but I suppose I must have, and you know what they say …’

      ‘What?’ said Ruby.

      Mrs Digby looked at her conspiratorially and said, ‘Don’t ask too many questions or they’ll find you out.’

      Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘You mean they might have made a giant mistake and given you a prize you didn’t actually win?’

      ‘I’m not saying it’s not impossible,’ said Mrs Digby.

      Mrs Digby’s view on keeping one’s mouth shut was similar to Spectrum’s number one rule: KEEP IT ZIPPED. Ruby herself had a little book of rules, 80 of them to be accurate – it was a magenta book with the word ‘Rules’ printed on it in red. While the housekeeper busied herself collecting the rest of the dirty crockery, Ruby was left to her thoughts and she was surprised that one of her thoughts was, I wish my folks were home. Ruby was an independent kid; she didn’t need people around her all the time for comfort or security. She had what Mrs Digby called inner reserves, by which she meant a strong sense of who she was, but for some reason today sitting up there on that stepladder, Ruby just felt a strong need to see her mom and dad. The house felt not so much quiet without them, as actually: empty.

      ‘By the way,’ said Mrs Digby, ‘I hate to be the one to tell you, but that Archie Lemon busted into your room and ate some of your books.’

      ‘What? You’re kidding?’ said Ruby.

      ‘Before you get all animated about it, I should just say, it wasn’t while I was watching him.’

      ‘So who was?’ asked Ruby.

      ‘That would be his mother, Elaine. She was over visiting your mom and neither of them realised he had made a crawl for it – up all those stairs too.’

      ‘How did he manage that?’

      ‘They’re over-feeding him is my guess,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘Who would believe such a tiny person could cause such havoc, but don’t worry, I cleaned it all up, wiped the dribble off your books and put ’em all back.’

      ‘Gross,’ said Ruby.

      ‘I’m not disagreeing with you.’ The housekeeper turned to leave. ‘Glad to have you back child.’

      ‘Thank you,’ said Ruby. ‘I’ve missed you a bunch, you know that.’

      Ruby returned to her musings.

      As Ruby ran through all the various things that had happened since March, some nine months ago now, she began to see how time was running out and maybe not just for Spectrum – perhaps for her too.

      She was beginning to tune into something that was driven neither by fact nor logic, it was more of a Clancy Crew hunch type of a thing. Just a feeling that whatever trouble was out there, it was now headed her way and about to come knocking at her door.

      

      AT 3 PM RUBY HEARD A SCRATCHING at the door.

      ‘Bug, is that you?’

      She was answered by one short bark.

      ‘OK, I’ll see you by the back door.’

      She pulled on her boots, coat and hat, wound a scarf around her neck, and climbed out of the window.

      Bug was waiting patiently outside for her, and together they set off down Cedarwood Drive, turned right on Amster and continued on as far as the Donut Diner. She left the husky by the coat rack and he settled down for a nap.

      It was medium busy, not too crowded, but as usual there were plenty of customers. Marla, the owner, waved to Ruby as she walked through the door.

      Ruby took up a seat at the counter where Clancy was already waiting: in front of him, two mugs of ginger tea and a couple of apple donuts.

      Ruby unzipped her coat, to reveal a T-shirt which read: happy to be here

      ‘What’s with the tea?’ asked Ruby.

      ‘My sister Amy has a cold, my sister Lulu has a cold, my sister Nancy has a cold, my sister Minny has a cold, my dad has a cold.’

      ‘Jeepers,’ said Ruby, ‘sounds bad.’

      ‘Drusilla says due to the high levels of antioxidants in ginger, ginger tea can strengthen your immunity, warding off infection, and I’m trying to remain uninfected,’ said Clancy.

      ‘But why do I have to drink ginger tea?’ asked Ruby. ‘It’s you Crews who are the ones harbouring the plague.’

      ‘Who knows who it will strike next; you go down sick, there’s more of a chance I go down sick, and I don’t want to go down sick. Christmas is my favourite time of year.’

      Ruby sipped her ginger tea. When Clancy was in this frame of mind it was easier to fall in behind than argue it through.

      ‘By the way, long time no hear,’ said Clancy.

      ‘I wrote you: you didn’t get my postcards?’

      ‘I got ’em,’ said Clancy. He thought for a moment. ‘How come you typed them?’

      ‘I didn’t want anyone to recognise my handwriting,’ said Ruby.

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