Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [86]
‘He’s dead,’ said Wolf. His voice was surprisingly cool and controlled. Wally knew that this was Wolf at his most dangerous, but he said nothing.
‘He’s dead,’ repeated Wolf. Wally still didn’t reply and neither did any of the other members of the Wolf Pack. Like Wally they were staring over Wolf’s shoulder. Wolf didn’t notice. He was too caught up in his icy fury.
‘I’m going to kill him,’ said Wolf simply. ‘I’m going to kill the little prick.’
‘Which little prick is that?’
Wolf spun around at the unexpected sound of the voice, and he saw what the others had already seen.
Mr Pangbourne was standing there behind him.
‘Beg your pardon, sir?’ said Wally, coming to the rescue.
You could always count on Wally Saddler when you needed to pull the wool over the eyes over some dumb adult.
But Mr Pangbourne wasn’t buying it.
He stood there facing the Wolf Pack and under his withering gaze the most dangerous individuals in Scopes High School suddenly began to feel like a bunch of dumb children.
They might scare the other kids but Pangbourne was way beyond the reach of their intimidation. There was a lean country toughness about the old man, a deep seen-everything cynicism. The principal frowned at them like he had found something unpleasant on the sidewalk.
‘You said something about little pricks. A more vulgar and low-minded person might make the insulting observation that the only ones of those around here are likely to be inside your pants,’ he said quietly. Now get to your class.’
As he said these words the bell rang, marking the first lesson of the afternoon. It went off as if Pangbourne had signalled it. Wally guessed that the principal had deliberately contrived the coincidence. The old bastard was clever that way. But the other members of the Wolf Pack reacted like a bunch of superstitious natives. They virtually scuttled away towards their classrooms. But Wally wasn’t fooled.
And neither was Wolf.
He remained standing there in the corridor, looking at the old man defiantly. Finally he turned on his heel and began to saunter off casually, his every move an insult and a provocation.
But Pangbourne was way ahead of him. He spoiled Wolf’s exit by calling him back.
‘Just a minute, son.’
His firm voice didn’t allow the possibility of disobedience and Wolf froze, then reluctantly wandered back.
‘Wolf,’ said the principal, ‘there’s something you ought to know.’ Wally Saddler noticed that the old man didn’t use Wolf’s proper name, the way some of the other teachers did.
Wolf hated being called Christian and the teachers often used this as a petty form of punishment. But Pangbourne never resorted to this tactic, and to Wally this was another example of the man’s cleverness.
‘Wolf, your father’s coming to see me. He called this morning to arrange an appointment.’
Wally saw the flicker of surprise on Wolf’s face before it was quickly concealed. ‘So what?’ said Wolf, his face a blank, arrogant mask again.
‘So, I thought you might know what it’s all about.’
Wolf faked a yawn. ‘Nope.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘If you want to know what it’s all about, ask him.’
‘I intend to,’ said Mr Pangbourne. ‘Anyhow, Wolf, I thought you’d better know he was coming in.’
Wolf shrugged as if he had no idea what Pangbourne was talking about. As if the man was senile. But Wally knew that Pangbourne was right, and that he was doing Wolf a favour. If Wolf’s old man was on the warpath again, all kinds of shit could hit the fan. And some of it might end up on Wolf.
Wally knew that for all his pretence of indifference and tough-guy cool, Wolf was just a frightened child where his father was concerned.
You’d never guess this from the insolent way the kid moved, though. Pangbourne watched Wolf swagger off, then he turned to look at Wally. ‘What’s the matter, Saddler? You decided that you’re exempt from classes?’
‘No sir,’ whined Wally. ‘But I’ve got this terrible headache. I think it’s a migraine, sir. Can I go see the nurse and get something for it? I’m going