Ribblestrop Read Online Free PDF Page A

something else.”
    â€œMillie, where are we going?” said Sam.
    â€œThis is a hole when it comes to nightlife,” said the girl. “But when it comes to clothes shops, and little bits of tat—it does quite well. Selfridges, please,” she said to the taxi driver. The driver muttered about one-way systems and red zones, so Millie leaned in again. “Look,” she said, “we’ve had a difficult morning. As close as you can, as fast as you can—it’s a very big store and the word ‘Selfridges’ is written right on the front. You can find it.”
    Then she closed the glass screen on the still-muttering driver.
    *
    Ruskin had cash. He grumbled a little, because he’d been looking forward to opening a new account in the Ribblestrop Bank (one of Dr. Norcross-Webb’s promised innovations for the new term). But he did feel responsible and the taxi driver looked quite threatening. The children hurried through a shopping center that seemed to think it was a greenhouse, rode an escalator while Sam tried to keep his blazer wrapped tight round his knees—and before long they were in the boys’ wear department. A very tall lady with very bright lipstick did her very best to help: shorts were no problem at all, and Sam almost cried with relief to be decent again. A new tie was more of a problem, but a local school had something similar. Again, Sam rejoiced in threading it round his collar and straightening the ends. It normalized him. He tucked his shirt in firmly and felt the trauma dropping away like unwanted skin.
    â€œYou don’t do caps?” he said.
    They didn’t do caps. This time Millie paid, with a credit card, and three reasonably normal-looking students rode the escalator down.
    â€œCoo,” said Ruskin. “I wish my parents would give me a credit card. I didn’t even realize you could get them till you were eighteen.”
    â€œThey’re useful things,” said Millie. “Now, do you boys want to amuse yourselves for an hour? There’s a few things I need before my sentence starts. Why don’t we meet here, by the sweetie machines?”
    â€œMillie,” said Ruskin.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI think this Plan C of yours has gone incredibly well. My only thought now is getting to Ribblestrop. You are intending to go to Ribblestrop, aren’t you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou see, I don’t think we’d be very welcome at the station. And to be honest, I’m not sure where we’d get a bus.”
    â€œCould we hitchhike?” said Sam. “I did that with my father once when we ran out of gas.”
    â€œThat’s not a bad plan,” said Millie. “If we take a taxi to the motorway, we can join up with the M5. Sam’s got that brochure thing, there’s a map in there. Give me one hour.” She sailed off up an escalator.
    *
    The boys found a burger bar and Ruskin dipped into his cash once again. Sam discovered that his pound—the one his father had pressed onto him for a sandwich—had been in the pocket of the lost shorts. Perhaps some rodent would discover it. Ruskin sighed and decided he owed his new friend rather more than money. They drank fizzy drinks and tried out two different burgers, each with salads, French fries, dips of one sort and another. By the time Millie joined them, laden with shopping, Sam felt triumphant and fat. They strode out of the shopping mall together: but of course, Millie hadn’t eaten.
    â€œThere’s a place my father uses . . . How much cash have you got, Ruski?”
    â€œPardon? Money? Um, oooh. From my original hundred I now have . . .” He paused to count his banknotes. “Seventy-four.”
    â€œThat should be enough. Keep your eye on the meter: if it goes over that, jump out of the car.”
    She was hailing another taxi and, again, the surprise of seeing three school children flagging him