Free Saving Sophia by Fleur Hitchcock Page A

late, because standing in the entrance to the garden is a tall man with a pitchfork, and he definitely isn’t a handsome prince.

Orange squash
    The inside of the castle is surprisingly modern. In fact, because of the small windows, rather than a view of the sea all anyone sees is smooth white walls.
    We follow the silent man through silent corridors until we reach a door marked:
Estate Manager
. The silent man opens the door and nods for us to enter. Another man sits behind a desk, writing something in careful red capitals.
    My mouth goes dry, and I drag my feet on the way into the room. It feels like real life has kicked in; I’m desperately tired but don’t feel very hungryany more. Ned goes first, then Sophia, then me.
    Sophia slips me a smile and grabs my hand. I try to smile back, but I’m too scared.
    “I hate being in trouble,” I whisper.
    “Why’d you run away then?” mutters Ned, as if getting caught was my fault and shoves me towards a chair opposite the man with the red pen who appears to be the most miserable person in the universe.
    The man’s sunburned face is too long and the hairs that grow out of his ears are too thick. He’s forgotten how to smile or even how to look up; either that or the paperwork on his desk is more interesting than we are. His lips move, so I lean forward to hear what he says.
    “Kids today. Don’t know the difference between right and wrong,” he mutters.
    I shuffle my feet. Behind the silent man who brought us up here is a fireplace with six carved wooden animals. They’re too big for the mantelpiece.
    “Shockin’.” I look back at the miserable man, waiting for more, but he stacks the papers on the left of the desk, then picks them up again and moves them to the right.
    We sit in silence.
    This is like the chapter in
Castle of Doom
where the heroine is tied to a chair over a fire pit. There seems to be no possible way that she can get out of it.
    There seems to be no possible way that we can get out of here.
    I stare at my trainers. They’re all earthy and I see that we’ve left footprints all over the floor. “Sorry about the mud on the carpet,” I say.
    He looks at me as if I’ve just landed from Mars, moves the stack of paper from one side of the desk to the other again and starts rummaging in a drawer.
    I shrug and look at Sophia; she shrugs and looks at Ned.
    We wait. I could do with using the loo but I’m too scared to ask.
    A woman comes in with a tray of overly sweet orange squash and some Lincoln biscuits. She puts a cup of coffee in front of the estate manager, nods at the silent man in the corner, and slips out.
    I nibble a biscuit, making it last, but I barely breathe.
    We wait.
    I look up at the silent man. He’s got a drip onthe end of his nose.
    The phone rings. The estate manager picks it up before it’s even sounded properly and barks at it. “Yes… Yes… No… I won’t.” He slams the phone down and rearranges the desk again. It occurs to me that he’s as uncomfortable as we are, but I’m still too scared to ask him if I can use the loo.
    “This is Lostham Castle,” he says suddenly. “It belongs to the Chief Constable who, incidentally, is on his way. You’re the missing nippers from Bream?”
    At this point, I notice that Ned has eaten all the biscuits.
    “We are,” says Sophia, slightly too loudly. “But it’s not their—”
    The man waves his hands at her as if none of it is his business, which I suppose it isn’t.
    He rises from the desk, unfolds himself and goes to the door. “I hate to lock you in like prisoners, but I’m going to – for your own good. Take those veggies out of your pockets and put ’em on my desk. I’ll be back soon as the police arrive.”
    And he goes.
    The silent man follows, rubbing his nose with agrey handkerchief.
    I wait a moment before trying the door. “We are locked in,” I say.
    “Flip,” says Ned. He pulls Pinky and Perky out of his bag and slips them the beetroot