Charlie Bone and the Blue Boa. Jenny Nimmo

bench, landing in an untidy heap on the floor.

      Several girls, and even boys, screamed and a husky voice gasped ‘Yikes!’ in Charlie’s ear. His plate went flying and his tumbler rolled to the floor, water spilling all over the table.

      ‘I’d better get out of here,’ whispered the voice, while Rosie Stubbs shouted, ‘Gwyneth’s fainted.’

      Dr Bloor stared out from his seat at the head of the high table. Matron Yewbeam and Miss Chrystal came down the steps into the main hall and ran up to Gwyneth. The matron shook Gwyneth’s shoulder, but as the poor girl was obviously unconscious, she lifted her up and, helped by Miss Chrystal, carried her out of the dining hall.

      Mr Boldova had come to the edge of the platform and Charlie caught his eye. The art teacher gave a slight shrug and Charlie shook his head.

      Ollie had fled and Charlie knew it would be hard to coax him back again. In fact this time he might even be locked in. From the end of the Drama table, Manfred was watching Charlie suspiciously. He had seen him looking at Selena Sparks, and he knew Ollie’s toe was still visible. Perhaps he had put two and two together.

      After supper Charlie gave Fidelio a better explanation about what had happened to Ollie Sparks. He spoke in an undertone as they hurried up the long passage leading from the dining hall. This time he didn’t even glance at Selena, in case Manfred was watching.

      ‘Here we go again,’ said Fidelio. ‘Another problem for you, Charlie.’ They had reached the blue cloakroom, and here the two friends parted; Fidelio taking books and pens to his classroom, while Charlie had to carry his homework upstairs to the King’s Room.

      How did he manage always to be late, even when he thought he’d been hurrying? All the other endowed children had got to the room before him. As Charlie bounded through the tall black doors, Manfred was making an announcement.

      ‘Two of the endowed have left the school.’ Manfred glared at Charlie as he dropped his books on to the round table. ‘Quiet, Bone!’

      ‘As I was saying, Beth and Bindi have left us, but we have a new member.’

      It had been such an extraordinary day, Charlie had almost forgotten Belle. But here she was, sitting between Asa and Dorcas. Asa’s weaselly features were screwed into an odd smirk and his scraggy red hair stuck out in oily spikes. If it hadn’t been for his yellow eyes, you would have found it hard to believe he could turn into a beast.

      ‘Her name’s Belle,’ Manfred continued.

      ‘Belle what?’ said Tancred, his pale hair bristling with electricity.

      ‘It’s not important,’ Manfred waved his hand.

      ‘It is to me,’ Tancred persisted. ‘I like to know a person’s whole name.’

      Charlie wished Tancred would look away before Manfred did something nasty. The head boy had an angry, hypnotising stare coming on.

      Tancred’s friend, Lysander, gave him a warning nudge. ‘Leave it, Tanc.’

      But Tancred was like a dog with a bone. ‘My name’s Torsson,’ he said, looking at Belle, ‘and what . . .?’

      ‘Donner,’ Belle said suddenly.

      ‘Belledonner? That’s deadly nightshade,’ said Gabriel. ‘It can kill you.’

      ‘Actually, that’s belladonna,’ said Belle. ‘In small quantities it dilates the pupils. Eyes become shinier, more lustrous and beautiful.’ All at once, her own round blue eyes flashed with purple lights.

      The effect was so startling even Tancred was speechless. All round the table, books were opened and pens clutched. Homework began in silence.

      Above the door the Red King stared out from his portrait. The cracked and ancient painting always raised Charlie’s spirits. But he’d never managed to hear the King’s voice. Sometimes he caught a low muttering, sometimes a creak and the swish of a cloak, but then a shadow would fall behind the king, like a dark stain on the canvas; a hooded figure that chilled the blood just to look at it. And Charlie knew that the sinister shadow was blocking his contact with the king.

      Eleven of us now, thought Charlie. Last term there had been twelve endowed children. What would happen if there were ten, like the original ten children of the Red King? Would the pattern be repeated, five on one side, five on the other? And this time, who would win?

      ‘Get on with your homework, Bone!’ Manfred’s voice made Charlie jump.

      ‘Yes, Manfred.’ Charlie looked down at his open book. After homework, Emma caught up with Charlie as he made his way to the dormitories. ‘It was Ollie, wasn’t it?’ she said breathlessly. ‘The toe under the table?’

      Charlie nodded. ‘I don’t think we’ll be able to get him back again,’ he whispered. ‘He was terrified. And I’ve got a nasty feeling Manfred knows.’

      ‘I’ll tell Mr Boldova,’ said Emma.

      As they approached Emma’s dormitory, they saw two girls standing outside the door. Their heads were close together and their furtive giggling seemed to imply that they were sharing an unpleasant secret.

      ‘Belle and Dorcas,’ Emma observed. ‘It’s as if Belle has put Dorcas under a spell. They go everywhere together.’

      ‘Good luck, Em,’ Charlie muttered as Emma slipped into the dormitory.

      ‘Trying to ignore me, Charlie Bone?’ said Belle as Charlie walked past.

      ‘Not at all,’ Charlie called without looking back. ‘I can see that you’re busy.’

      ‘You ignore me at your peril, Charlie!’

      Was it Belle who had spoken? Charlie couldn’t be sure. The voice belonged to someone much older. Someone whom it would be foolish to disobey.

      Charlie hurried on.

      Belle and Dorcas were seldom seen apart after that day. Charlie became convinced that Belle wasn’t what she pretended to be. And then there was Ollie Sparks. The summer term was proving to be more than a little interesting.

      ‘You’d better watch it, Charlie,’ said Fidelio one day. ‘If you go up in the attics again, you’re bound to get detention.’

      ‘Or worse,’ muttered Olivia.

      ‘Hypnotised for life,’ said Emma. ‘Like Manfred tried to do to me.’

      They were sitting on a log pile in blazing sunshine. It promised to be a brilliant summer, which was just as well because the school play would be performed in the open air.

      ‘What’s Belle like as an artist?’ Charlie asked Emma. ‘I mean, can she draw?’

      Emma shrugged. ‘Who knows? She makes things. We’ve been asked to design clothes for the play, and the set.’

      The hunting horn sounded and the four children slid off the logs and headed towards the academy.

      ‘I wish we could do something about Ollie,’ said Emma as they reached the garden door. ‘Maybe if we got detention and stayed in school till Saturday . . . What about you, Charlie?’

      Charlie was tempted but he had other responsibilities. ‘Runner Bean,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to get home to look after him.’

      It had just been decided that they would all meet on Sunday to discuss Ollie’s problem, when Fidelio suddenly announced, ‘I can’t. I’ve got to play in a concert.’

      Charlie was sorry to hear this. Fidelio was such a good person to have around in a crisis. He had excellent ideas, and he never gave up. But Fidelio was also a brilliant musician. Charlie was afraid he would be seeing less and less of his friend this term.

      When Charlie got home on Friday evening, so many things went wrong he forgot all about Ollie. He had expected to see his great-uncle, but Paton hadn’t