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‘Toots!’ they chorused, and fell into giggles.
‘He’s a strange one,’ Ruby said.
    Sam grunted. ‘You think he’s strange, you should meet nearly everyone else at St
Custard’s. The place is overflowing with strange.’
    ‘Better than overflowing with custard,’ Ruby said, watching Kobe as he weaved among
the grid of tables.
    ‘Who’s Rice Crispies?’ Felicity said.
    Gerald wedged a mushroom into his cheek. ‘That’s Dr Crispin’s nickname,’ he said.
‘Don’t let him hear you using it though.’
    ‘Well, there’s an interesting thing,’ Ruby said, still gazing across the hall.
    ‘What’s that?’ Felicity asked.
    ‘Kobe just delivered the other letter.’
    ‘And?’
    Ruby turned back to the three others at the table. ‘To Alex Baranov.’
    Gerald spat out a moist pffft . ‘Probably the latest issue of Rich and Good Looking magazine.’
    Felicity patted Gerald on the arm. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure Ruby will be able to resist
his charms.’
    ‘Felicity!’ Ruby glared at her friend.
    ‘What?’ Felicity said. She looked across to Alex Baranov’s table. ‘He is quite cute.’
    ‘Oh for goodness sake,’ Ruby said, then she turned to Gerald. ‘What’s so vitally
important that you get a letter in the mail?’
    Gerald studied the business-sized envelope. It was addressed to his house in Chelsea
in London and had been forwarded to St Cuthbert’s. He recognised his mother’s handwriting
on the front: URGENT. Must be sent to school camp in Scotland OR ELSE!
    The envelope was made with a thick linen paper with an embossed B on the flap. Gerald
ran a finger under the seal.
    ‘Oh, it’s from the Billionaires’ Club,’ he said, holding up a single sheet of paper.
He looked up to be met by three blank stares. ‘You remember,’ he said. ‘The club
that Jasper Mantle and Tycho Brahe wanted me to join.’
    ‘You mean the butterfly collector and the certifiable lunatic who tried to slice
the still-beating heart from my chest for a chemistry experiment?’ Ruby said. ‘Yes,
I vaguely remember them.’
    Felicity took a sip of tea. ‘It’s in New York, isn’t it?’
    Gerald scanned the letter. ‘It says that the initiation for membership to the Billionaires’
Club will be held during the mid-term break.’
    ‘How are you going to manage that?’ Ruby asked. ‘We’re supposed to spend the break
here.’
    Gerald’s eyes lit up. ‘It says that Mr Mantle has arranged with Dr Crispin for me
to take time off for a long weekend in New York City!’
    He looked up to Sam’s disbelieving face. ‘You get to spend a long weekend in some
six star hotel in New York—with room service and a comfy bed—while we’re stuck here
freezing our buns off in some godforsaken place that if it’s not the end of the world
you can at least see if from here?’
    Gerald leaned over, plucked a rasher of bacon from Sam’s plate and took a bite. ‘There’s
got to be some benefits to being a billionaire,’ he said.

Chapter 4
    The Captain Oates Outdoor Education Centre bristled with anticipation as two hundred
students gathered in the reception hall. Burning logs crackled in the fire pit, providing
some relief from the bitter cold that clawed at the windows like an impatient house
cat demanding to be let in.
    Dr Crispin stood with his back to the flames and held his hands up for silence. ‘Tomorrow
you will embark on the first stage of the Triple Crown.’ He stared at the assembled
faces like a lion scanning the savannah for lunch. ‘I have no doubt that by the end
of the day there will be tears and not a little heartbreak. That is how it should
be. These three tasks are about pushing yourselves to the limit. I like to think
of them in alignment with my life philosophy: If it’s not hurting, it’s not working.’
    Sitting with his back against a wall, Sam whispered to Gerald, ‘Is this supposed
to inspire us?’
    Gerald shook his head and stared back at the St Cuthbert’s headmaster as he droned
on