The Quickening of Tom Turnpike (The Talltrees Trilogy) by W. E. Mann Read Free Book Online Page B

his
heart’s emptiness with omnivorous hatred.  And it satisfied him.  He bore ill-will
towards any person, indeed any creature, that had any glimmer of happiness in
its eyes.  He took delight in suffering, even his own, and he took to
disciplining his pupils cruelly and mercilessly.  He even turned upon Doctor
Boateng, whom he blamed for not having left him to die on the night of the
raid.
     
    ***
     
    “Gosh,”
muttered Freddie, who had been completely mesmerised by this story.  “In a way,
I can understand why he became so bitter.  I mean, wouldn’t you if you lost the
thing that was most important to you?  I feel sorry for him.”
    “Well
I’m not sure if you should feel sorry for him just yet,” said Pontevecchio,
“not until you have heard the last part of the story.
    You
see, this chap whose old man used to work out there told me that there was a
rumour at the time that Barrington got involved with an African religious
cult.  I’m talking black magic, witchcraft, maybe even human sacrifice .”
    Freddie
gasped.  “No way!”
    “Look,
I can only tell you what I heard.  I can’t tell you whether it’s true.  Anyway,
what happened was that children from the school started to disappear, you know,
like orphans who nobody would miss.  At first, everyone thought they were dying
from malaria or one of those other horrible diseases.  But then the numbers were
just getting out of hand.  People started to get suspicious and rumours started
going around that Barrington was kidnapping the children for rituals and
sacrifices. 
    Well,
Doctor Boateng stood by Barrington at first because they were such old comrades. 
But the rumours started getting way worse and Barrington did nothing to deny
them.  And so, after a while even Doctor Boateng wasn’t sure because it was as
if Barrington had turned into a totally different person.  So Boateng finally
managed to convince Barrington to leave the country for his own safety.  The
Kommissar gave him a permit to return to Britain.        
    So,
there you have it, chaps.”
    “Wow!”
exclaimed Freddie.  “Witchcraft, eh?  Do you believe it?”
    “Well,
Strange, I’m not really sure that I even believe in witchcraft at all.  Sounds
like a load of poppycock to me.  Anyway, look here, chaps, I’m going to have to
go.  I’m meant to be supervising First Form bedtime in a mo.  So, whatever you
do, don’t tell a word of this to anyone at all.  Okay?”
    “We
won’t,” I promised.
    After
Pontevecchio had left the room, Freddie turned round to look at me.  “Whoa! 
You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.
    “Well
don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence?”
    “What?”
    “Come
on, Fred.  Milo and the others!  What was Barrington doing down in the Dungeon
the other night?  Don’t you think it might have something to do with the fact
that so many boys have been falling ill lately?  In fact,” something had just
occurred to me, “come to think of it, has Barrington been on night-duty a lot
recently?”
    Freddie
stared at me wide-eyed, absorbing what I had just suggested.  “God!” he said. 
“I think you might be right.  But why would this be happening now, all of a
sudden?  We’ve got to work out what’s going on.  Come on.”
    “Where
are we going?” I asked.
    “To
find Al de Sucksley.”

five
     
    The
Library was deserted and we had just over half an hour before Third Form Curfew.
     “Okay. 
Hughes, Hugo, Hume...  Huxley,” muttered Freddie.
    Five
shelves up and wedged between the end of the shelf and a book called Hume’s
Enquiries was a tattered copy of a book entitled Brave New World by
this Aldous Huxley.
    Freddie
pulled it from the bookcase.  He stepped back, with an expression of reverence
as if he were waiting for something magical to occur.  After a second or two of
nothing happening in the way of hocus-pocus or divine intervention, he pushed
his hand into the gap where the book had