Free Another Life by Keren David Page A

stay here? Woo!’ I give her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.
    ‘Sweet,’ says Danny gloomily, helping himself to another glass of wine.
    Mum looks really pleased and she’s already forgotten that I was spying on them.
    ‘You’ll have to work hard,’ she says.
    ‘I will! I promise!’
    ‘If Dad and I are both away at the same time then you’ll have to stay with Marina or Elizabeth.’
    I like my aunts, but I know what I’d prefer.
    ‘Umm Danny, couldn’t I stay with you sometimes?’
    He looks startled. ‘What? I don’t think so, Archie. I can’t even stay in my flat at the moment – since Ty was attacked there the police think it might be dangerous.
I’m kipping at my studio – it’s not that big.’
    ‘I’d really like to come and see it, anyway.’
    He raises an eyebrow – just like my grandpa does – and says, ‘Maybe. One day.’
    ‘When Ty’s out, we can come together.’
    He sighs. ‘It’s not going to be that easy for Ty.’
    ‘But I thought everything was OK now. The criminals are all locked up and once he gets out of . . . you know . . . he’ll have a normal life.’
    Danny puts his head in his hands. ‘I don’t know,’ he says – at least, I think that’s what he says, it’s a bit of a muffled mumble.
    ‘Are you staying here, Danny?’ asks Mum, and he says no, he’ll get a cab.
    I go upstairs and I think about Skyping Zoe. I feel bad. She is meant to be my girlfriend.
    But I don’t do it. Instead I think about Claire and what I’m going to tell Ty and how nice it was to talk to Claire, and how I’m going to be in London and free to go where I
want and see who I want to see, and do what I want.
    Life is full of possibilities.
    How lucky am I?

CHAPTER 10
Like You Used To
    B utler’s Tutorial College isn’t like any other school I’ve ever heard of. It’s not like a school at all.
    There’s no uniform, no real classrooms, hardly any rules and not that many pupils. I’m doing English GCSE in a group of five, Maths in a group of four, History with just two others.
You can actually talk to the teacher properly during the lessons, ask questions and discuss things and stuff.
    There are advantages to having parents who are loaded, besides the obvious electronic goods.
    ‘We aim to get you through the curriculum in a year,’ says Richard, who’s my supposed ‘base tutor’ – that’s what they call form masters here –
although all that means is that I can go to him with any general questions I’ve got, or problems and stuff. He’s the only person in the place who’s wearing a tie, although even so
he manages to look pretty cool, with his slicked-back dark hair and cool steel-rimmed glasses. ‘It’s hard work, but hopefully you’ll find it interesting.’
    I don’t think any teacher has ever cared if I find the work interesting before. This is great.
    I’ve done a week at Butler’s and so far, I’d say it’s like heaven on earth, assuming you have to do GCSEs in heaven. It’s going to be a breeze. I’ll even have
loads of free time to do whatever I want.
    Today I’ve got English for the first time. My teacher loads me up with booklists –
Romeo and Juliet, Of Mice and Men, An Inspector Calls
. He’s set me a creative writing
assignment – imagine you’re an American soldier in Iraq – which shouldn’t take too long to polish off. Bang, bang, bang, look at all the corpses, look at the sand, why the
hell are we here? Whoosh! I’m dead, sort of thing.
    Then it’s the student lounge to wait for thirty minutes before a session with the Maths guy. I tell you, they don’t sweat it here.
    I’ve bought a coke from the machine and I’m texting Claire from my iPhone – just seeing if she’s OK – and I’m admiring the female talent on display. The girls
here are gorgeous, sure, but lots of them are kind of older-looking and a bit sneery. There are all sorts here, kids from all over the world. Some have got in on scholarships. So it’s a