Sweet Poison by Georgia Le Carre EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Le Carre
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
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Montana
I’d only come into the office to change into riding boots when the phone
rang. Diane was off sick and Dad was in the storeroom stock-taking. I
looked at the ringing phone but hesitated. Generally speaking, I was too
impatient and blunt to deal with the public, but I could hardly ignore the
shrill sound. My dad would probably break a leg trying to get back for it. I
picked it up on the third ring.
“Shadow Wolf Academy, can I help you?”
“Gwen Garrison here,” a woman announced crisply. “I was going
through your prospectus, and I have a few questions. Would you be able to
answer them for me?”
“Shoot.”
“Right. It says here that children are taught outdoors regardless of the
weather conditions. Does that mean rain as well?”
“Yup. Rain or shine we’re out there.”
“But Basil gets sick even if a drop of rain falls on his head,” she
lamented.
Oh God! She named her son Basil. I was glad she couldn’t see my
expression. “What’s the next question?”
I heard the rustling of paper. “It states here on page two that children as
young as eight will be allowed to use hammers, nails, Swiss army knives,
and saws. Surely that can’t be right?”
“Yes, that’s right. This is a survivalist school. We teach children life
skills and how to effectively fend for themselves. Hammers, nails and
knives come in very handy in the wild.”
“I see,” she muttered, her voice filled with doubt. “But they will be
supervised at all times while they’re using these dangerous objects though,
won’t they?”
“No,” I denied cheerfully. “They won’t. We believe in our methods.”
“My goodness,” she gasped with shock. “What a cavalier approach, not
to mention how terribly unsafe. What if they hurt themselves or the other
kids? I don’t think I could trust a bunch of armed little brats around my
Basil. He’s a very sensitive child.”
I glanced at my watch. I knew I shouldn’t have picked up the phone.
Here was the point where I should explain that children who were not
terminally bored or taught how to correctly use these utensils hardly ever
hurt themselves or other children, but quite frankly, it sounded as if she’d
already irreparably ruined Basil, and the poor child would probably remain
a traumatized snowflake for the rest of his life.
“Perhaps this is not the school for your son,” I suggested.
“Oh! Are you denying my son a place in your school?” she blustered,
suddenly furious and indignant.
I sighed. “Look, Ma’am. Call back tomorrow and ask to speak to Diane.
I’m sure she’ll be able to explain how everything works, and if you’re still
minded to enroll your son you could go on the waitlist for next year’s
intake. Right then, bye.”
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