style="font-size:15px;"> ‘I don’t need to. I got people like you bothering me.’
‘So the arm, is it giving you any trouble?’
‘Yeah, it’s preventing me from sleeping.’
‘How’s that?’
‘People keep calling to ask how it is.’
‘Is that so,’ said the voice, ‘and how is it?’
‘Itchy,’ said Ruby.
‘That’s a good sign,’ said the voice, ‘means it’s healing.’
‘So people keep telling me. By the way, do you mind giving me some idea of who you are?’ Ruby asked.
‘Oh I’m sorry, did I neglect to say?’
‘Uh huh,’ yawned Ruby.
‘I’m Agent Gill. LB asked me to coordinate your field test. Just wanted to say hi.’
‘Hi back,’ said Ruby scratching her arm with the yellow pencil. She tottered into the bathroom and examined her face in the mirror. ‘So this is a survival test?’ she asked, fake-casually.
‘I can neither confirm nor deny,’ said Gill. ‘When’s the cast due off?’
‘Today,’ said Ruby.
‘That’s good because you’re going to need both arms for this; fitness is key.’
‘Isn’t it always?’ said Ruby.
‘That’s correct, so you might want to get back on your bicycle and put in some miles. Give yourself a bit of a workout.’
‘I would, only I don’t have a bike,’ said Ruby.
‘Sure you do, I’ve seen you riding around, yellow isn’t it?’
‘Green,’ said Ruby.
‘That’s the one,’ said Gill. ‘Yep, you got to get back on that green bike of yours.’
‘It’s blue,’ said Ruby.
‘You just said it was green.’
‘Not any more.’
‘How so?’ said Gill.
‘I sprayed it Windrush blue and gave it to my pal Clancy.’
‘That was nice of you,’ said Gill.
‘Yeah, maybe, but it leaves me walking I guess.’
Gill sighed down the end of the phone line. ‘That’s what you get for being nice.’
‘Tell me about it,’ said Ruby.
‘My advice, take up jogging,’ said Gill.
‘You woke me to suggest I should take up jogging?’
‘No,’ said Gill, ‘I woke you to inform you that you’ll be contacted any day soon, maybe in the next few hours. You need to be on standby.’
‘You contacted me to tell me that you’ll be contacting me. . .?’
‘Correct, I’ll be contacting you,’ said Gill, and hung up.
Ruby’s watch vibrated – she looked at the words that appeared on the surface of the glass that covered the dial.
Be prepared!
‘I’ll count the hours,’ muttered Ruby. The truth was that despite her sarcastic tone she really was counting the hours. Life as it had been before Spectrum recruitment now seemed humdrum. Sure, she could happily live a week or two without the thrill of Spy agency work; her friends were amusing, her family likeable, there were books, there was music, museums, galleries, cinema, diners, rollerskates, the great outdoors, the great indoors, and then there was TV, and of course, ping-pong – all available to entertain, occupy and stretch her curious mind. But Ruby was no ordinary thirteen-year-old; her mind needed a lot of stretching and occupying.
As Ruby set about looking for things to wear she noticed a note, clearly pinned on her door by Mrs Digby. It said:
DON’T FORGET THE DO TONIGHT! 6.30 SHARP. MAKE SURE YOU’VE WASHED BEHIND YOUR EARS (WITH SOAP). PS YOUR MOTHER HAS BOUGHT YOU
A DRESS (YOU’RE NOT GONNA LIKE IT).
Ruby rolled her eyes and began the search for her Yellow Stripe sneakers and a fresh T-shirt. Her eyes settled on one – red with black text, the words pleading: please tell me I’m not awake.
Ruby had many T-shirts, all pretty similar in tone, all bearing slogans, statements or questions, some funny, some impolite, some funny and impolite. They caused her mother great consternation but Ruby wasn’t the sort of kid to let someone else’s opinion get in the way of her wardrobe, particularly not her mother’s.
‘You’ll appreciate me one day,’ Sabina would often say.
‘Mom, I appreciate you now,’ was always Ruby’s reply, ‘it’s just these outfits you keep buying me are causing me to appreciate you less than I would if you didn’t buy them.’
The intercom in Ruby’s room buzzed. ‘Yuh huh,’ said Ruby into the speaker.
‘This is your housekeeper, you know, the wretched old lady who attends to your every need?’
‘Hullo Mrs Digby, what can I do for you?’
‘Just reminding you about tonight,’ said the housekeeper. ‘Your mother and father want you hosed down, dressed, shoes shined, standing at the front door by six-thirty sharp.’
‘You already told me that in your note – anything else you wanna repeat?’
‘Yep, six-thirty sharp – be there or be in peril.’
Mrs Digby had been housekeeper to the Redforts for just about ever and she knew Ruby inside out and back to front. And one thing she was sure as eggs is eggs about was that Ruby Redfort would never be winning any punctuality award. She was a terrible time-keeper.
The buzzer buzzed again. ‘There’s a note from your father, stuck to the refrigerator.’
‘And?’ said Ruby.
‘And what?’ said Mrs Digby.
‘And what does it say?’
‘If you got your lazy self down here you could see for yourself.’
The housekeeper hung up and Ruby went downstairs to find something to eat.
The note was still fixed to the refrigerator. It read:
Dr Shepherd has found time for
