Free Almost True by Keren David

she sets us both a page of equations to complete. It’s something to do, I suppose, although swapping an actual life for Maths is a bit tragic.
    I’m just finishing the last one – and hoping passionately that I’ve beaten Archie – when Patrick comes into the room. ‘I’ve just had a call from Penelope in Chicago,’ he says, ‘Archie, you and I have to go and see a school, Allingham Priory, this afternoon. They have a place in Year Eight, apparently, and the head teacher, Father Roderick, wants to meet you.’
    Archie looks really upset and I kind of smirk. We’re obviously both thinking the same thing: Allingham Priory sounds like it’s going to turn out to be a strict Catholic nightmare of a school.
    He goes upstairs to get changed. I follow. This is my chance to wind him up, and I’m certainly going to take it.
    He’s buttoning a clean white shirt and I clamber up on to the bunk bed. ‘So. Allingham Priory, eh?’ I say. ‘Sounds Catholic to me. Ever been to a Catholic school?’
    He shakes his head gloomily. All his normal obnoxious bounce seems to have left him.
    â€˜The monks hit you every day,’ I say. ‘For the smallest thing. Beat you until blood pours down your legs.And you’ll be getting up at 6 am to pray . . . for hours. . .’
    â€˜I don’t believe you,’ says Archie. ‘I’m sure that’s against the law. My parents wouldn’t send me to a school like that, anyway. My dad’s not even a Catholic.’ He doesn’t sound very certain. I pounce.
    â€˜Won’t make any difference to them. You’ll probably have to pray even more to make up for that. They’re after your soul . . . not to mention your body. . .’
    Anyone normal would realise I was teasing. But Archie looks like he’s going to burst into tears.
    â€˜Wh . . . what do you mean?’
    â€˜Well those monks, they’re not allowed sex, are they? And then they see some pretty young boy like you and . . . let’s just say you won’t be getting much sleep. . . You’ll have to be on the alert twenty-four hours a day. Some of those monks are really big and strong.’
    Archie blinks. He sits down on the end of the bed and does up his shoes. He keeps his head down longer than he needs to, I notice. I’m chuckling to myself. This is an excellent wind-up.
    And then he lifts his head and he says, ‘Ty . . . what you’re saying, it’s not true, is it?’ and I can see that he’s really scared and the tears aren’t just in his eyes.
    So I say, ‘Nah . . . it’ll probably be fine. I’m just winding you up.’
    â€˜Oh. It’s just . . . I don’t really want to go to boardingschool again.’ He sighs. ‘I thought I’d fixed it by getting expelled from the last one.’
    â€˜Can’t you tell your parents?’
    â€˜I did. But they’re both away a lot. They said it wouldn’t be fair to leave me at home with an au pair.’
    â€˜Oh. Can’t you talk to them again?’
    â€˜They’re away such a lot.’
    â€˜Talk to Patrick in the car.’ Patrick seems to me to be the sort of person who it’d be good to have on your side in an argument.
    â€˜I’m not sure. Grandpa doesn’t like me much.’
    Well, who can blame him? I bite my tongue. ‘Have a go. Or swear at the head teacher. Make sure they won’t take you. Good luck.’
    Left alone, I think about going back to the book-cleaning job. But maybe I should limit my exposure to the dust. Helen’s calling me from downstairs. Reluctantly I go and find her in the kitchen.
    â€˜They’ve gone,’ she says, ‘and I thought it might be a chance for us to have a chat. Just about how things are going . . . we don’t seem to have talked much. . . You did very well with the Maths, by the way. Well done. We’ll do some more