The Never-Ending Birthday by Katie Dale

Author:Katie Dale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

MAX

Uh-oh. I’m used to going to the Head’s office all the time, but when I spot Anni waiting outside, my stomach lurches. If my nearly perfect sister’s been summoned too, either something’s happened to Mum or Dad, or . . .

The office door flies open.

‘Come in, both of you!’ Mr Peters, the Headmaster, calls.

Anni bites her lip as we follow him inside.

‘Congratulations!’ he says, perching on the edge of his desk. ‘You two got the highest marks on the maths test.’

Anni’s eyes light up, but my insides tighten. I know that sarcastic tone. He’s used it on me many times . . .

‘So, have you been having help with maths at home? A tutor or something?’

‘Yes, actually,’ I lie quickly before Anni has a chance to tell the truth. ‘We’ve had a tutor for the last few weeks.’

‘Well you’ve certainly made a radical improvement, if the test results are anything to go by, Max. And you’ve excelled yourself too, Anni.’

‘Thank you!’ she says, beaming.

‘What’s the name of your tutor, Anni?’

‘Oh.’ She glances at me. ‘Um . . .’

I glare at her. Think of a name! Any name!

‘Um . . . Math-Matthew,’ she stammers.

Ugh. Seriously? I don’t know how Mr Peters keeps a straight face.

‘I see. Well, I’ll have to get this Matthew to tutor my own children,’ he says, tilting his head to one side, eyes twinkling triumphantly like an eagle about to skewer his prey. ‘I’ve no idea how you managed to get all the answers without showing any working-out at all!’

Anni looks at me nervously.

‘Matthew likes us to work problems out in our heads,’ I lie quickly, meeting Mr Peters’s gaze straight on. If I can brazen out Anni’s blunder, maybe we’ll still get away with this . . .

‘Really?’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure even I could’ve worked out some of these answers in my head. Which method did you use for question twenty-five?’ He passes me the test paper and points to a sketch of a triangle with a length measurement missing.

‘The answer’s ten centimetres.’ I smile smugly.

‘Did you learn Pythagoras’s theorem at your last school?’

‘Yes, of course!’ Pythaga-what?

‘Wonderful!’ He passes me a pencil. ‘Show me your working please.’

Uh-oh. As slowly as I can, I write down the two other measurements, but no matter how long I stare at them I cannot find any way in the world to get to ten. ‘Sorry, my mind’s gone blank,’ I say with a laugh. ‘I’m not used to being watched!’

‘Doesn’t Matthew watch you?’ Mr Peters asks, unblinking.

‘No. He gives us space,’ I reply. ‘It’s easier to concentrate.’

He plucks the paper from my hand and I breathe a sigh of relief.

‘Anni, maybe you could show me?’

Oh, pants.

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