“I’m really sorry, Alex.” Rhona stopped, unsure what else to say.
“At least she’s at peace now.” Alex was weeping and wringing his hands. “I’ve never known a person so consumed with jealousy and bitterness. It began when Uncle Donald and I went without her on a camping trip, only because she was invited to a friend’s sleepover and was moaning she’d miss it. When we picked her up the following day and told her we’d rescued a trapped unicorn, she was furious. She accused us of always leaving her out, and she never forgave either of us.”
He was silent for a moment, and then continued, his voice cracking.
“The irony is, Uncle Donald adored Ailsa. When he made me Langcroft’s heir, he apologised to me, because he saw the estate as a burden. He didn’t want Ailsa to have that responsibility because he thought she was desperate to travel the world. He didn’t know the real reasons behind her visit to Africa, and I’ll make sure he never finds out. He’ll be heartbroken enough.”
Alex sighed again, ran a hand over his stubbled chin.
“As for you two, tell nobody what happened here tonight, do you hear me? We need to keep the unicorns’ existence a secret, if any good is to come out of tonight’s terrible events…”
They both nodded.
“I’ll drive you to the main road and then come back and meet the helicopter. I reckon you’ve been through more than enough for one night.”
Rhona shook her head. “I’m no’ getting in a car wi’ a stranger. No way.”
She heard Lewis’s quiet groan. He clearly didn’t fancy the idea of a five-mile walk. It would be morning by the time they reached the Centre and they’d have a heck of a lot of explaining to do.
When she stood up, her knees almost buckled. “Come on, Lewis. Let’s go, before I keel over. I’m shattered.”
Morning was coming, fading out the moon’s pale glow. When a unicorn grey as a cloud broke from the shelter of the trees and galloped towards them, he’d have been almost invisible against the leaden sky, if it hadn’t been for his gleaming pewter horn.
Yelling, Alex dropped his phone, grabbed Lewis, who was nearest to him, and dragged him into the narrow gap between the two cars. “Run, Rhona!”
But Rhona stayed exactly where she was. As the unicorn slowed to a trot and stopped right in front of her, she smiled and lifted a hand in greeting.
“Good to see you again, Liath.”
The unicorn’s silvery mane swayed, as he lowered his head. He knelt, allowing both children to clamber on to his back.
Alex shook his head in amazement. “Wow. What are you two, unicorn whisperers?”
Rhona grinned. “We’re the Guardians of the Wild Unicorns, actually.”
Alex nodded, and waved goodbye. “Remember, say nothing.”
“Folk would think we were haverin’,” said Rhona, wrinkling her nose. “They all think unicorns are made up.”
On the ride back to the Outdoor Centre, Lewis half-dozed and Rhona’s thoughts spun round in her head.
If the branch hadn’t fallen, would Sneachda have charged? Would she have killed Ailsa? After all, she had to protect her baby. It’s what parents do.
The sun peeped over the horizon, bathing the moor in a warm apricot glow. Rhona tightened her grip on Lewis’s waist and leaned in so he could hear her.
“That baby unicorn’s lucky, isn’t she? Her mum is always going to be there for her, keeping her safe.” She paused. “I’m sorry I got mad at you earlier.”
Lewis said nothing. He was clearly struggling to remember, and she couldn’t blame him. Everything that had happened before she’d entered Whindfall Forest seemed foggy, distant history.
But Rhona kept going. She’d kept her worries to herself for too long. It was time she dragged them into the light. Maybe Mr D was right and they’d all shrivel up and die.
“I wasn’t being fair. You weren’t to know. I’ve never talked about it.”
Lewis twisted round, then had to steady himself by grasping Liath’s mane. “Oh, yes, I remember now. I compared your mum with my dad… and you got angry. I’m sorry if I offended you. I wasn’t trying to be mean. It’s just that I’ve never seen your mum up at the school, so I figured something must be wrong with her.”
Rhona couldn’t help it. She bristled. “And because Eastgate has its problems, you assumed Mum was an alcoholic or a junkie?”
There was another awkward silence.
“No… yes… maybe. I said sorry, Rhona. So why doesn’t she ever come up to school? Why do you never invite me over to yours?”
As soon as he asked, Rhona’s words flooded out, a tsunami of pent-up frustration.
“It’s too much for her, that’s why. Mum’s got severe rheumatoid arthritis, plus agoraphobia, so she won’t go outside, even on good days. To be honest, the arthritis is easier to cope with. I mean, it isn’t easy. It’s terrible. Mum’s hands are like claws. She’s in agony sometimes and she can do virtually nothing for herself. When it’s really bad she uses a wheelchair, just to get around in the house.”
She stopped for breath, then told the rest. It was a relief to let it all out, but she didn’t feel her worries shrivelling. They were still there, huge and threatening, lying in wait for her when she got home, ready to leap on her as soon as she got through the front door.
“Sometimes it’s hard not to get hacked off about the agoraphobia. I used to get so mad when she wouldn’t do simple stuff like picking me up from school or getting groceries from the corner shop, but I’ve got more patient as I’ve got older. I understand she can’t help it and she’d change if she could. But I still want to shake her some days, and then I feel like the worst person in the world.”
“You’re not, Rhona. It must be really hard for you. Does your mum have people to come in and look after her?”
“She doesn’t like other people to see her when she’s in a bad way. She’s too proud. I’m Mum’s main carer.”
Lewis whirled round so fast he almost tumbled off the unicorn’s back. His eyes looked as startled as if she’d said she was a government spy.
“You’re her main carer? But you can’t be! You’ve got school and homework and…”
His voice faded, and Rhona laughed, a small, mirthless laugh.
“I haven’t anything else, Lewis. Didn’t you ever wonder why I don’t go to after-school sports clubs, why I don’t often meet up with you at weekends?”
Lewis’s voice was tinged with guilt. “I guess I was afraid your mum would dredge up memories of my dad. I’d convinced myself she’d be slumped on the couch, drinking vodka straight from the bottle. But I never bothered to find out, never tried to get involved. I’ve been far too busy worrying about myself. I’m a selfish pig.”
“You weren’t to know. I don’t get time to do other stuff, because I’m too busy, cooking and cleaning and looking after my mum.” She gave a tiny sigh of frustration. “She needs me. I wouldn’t be here on this residential if it wasn’t for Mr D. He organised it all for me: the respite care for Mum, the funds, even the clothes. The man’s a pure legend.”
“I’ve been a complete fail, haven’t I?”
“Och, no. You’re the best. Total pain sometimes, but the best.”
“Thanks, pal. You’re OK too. But I do think you should talk to your mum, see if you can get yourselves some outside help. From a selfish-pig point of view, it’d be nice to see you at weekends.”
Rhona stared out at the huge expanse of moorland, surrounded by snow-capped mountains, and let out a huge, sad sigh. She turned and gave Lewis a watery smile.
“The unicorns weren’t too proud to ask for help.”
“Nope.”
“I could talk to Mum, tell her it’s too much for me. Have a proper chat with Mr D, see what can be done.”
“Yup.”
The unicorn slowed to a walking pace and Rhona realised Liath had carried them all the way back. They were approaching the Outdoor Centre.
She slid off the unicorn’s back, rubbed her
aching legs. “Thanks, Liath. You’re a pal.”
Liath stood perfectly still, waiting for Lewis, but Rhona could sense the animal’s nervousness, his impatience to head back to Whindfall. As soon as Lewis’s feet hit the ground, the unicorn shook its mane and veered around, muscles rippling, hooves clashing against the tarmac. Rhona reached out to touch his silken coat for the last time. He galloped off, leaving a single word drifting on the breeze.
Saorsa…
Rhona stood, oblivious to the early morning chill, watching the unicorn as it headed homewards across the moor, hooves pounding, silver mane flying. When Lewis placed his hand on her shoulder, she jumped.
“We need to go,” he said. “Let’s hope nobody’s shut the toilet window.”
“They wouldn’t be so daft. OK, let’s do it. Back to the Toilet of Doom. By the way, I think the baby unicorn’s name is Saorsa.”
29
Lewis
They crept up to the main building and squeezed through the open toilet window. Rhona exited the toilet first, and Lewis followed two minutes later. He was sneaking down the corridor, shoes in his hand, when a loud voice made him jump like a frog.
“Lewis! What on earth are you up to now?”
He whipped round, barefoot but fully dressed, shoes dangling from his hand. Mr Deacon was standing behind him, hands on hips, glowering. He was wearing striped pyjamas and old men’s slippers, so it was hard to take him seriously. Lewis’s preprepared lie came as quick and easy as a microwave meal.
“I woke early and I didn’t want to disturb anyone, so I got dressed and went into the common room.” He pulled the torch from his jacket pocket. “I used this and read some of the old wildlife magazines that were lying around. Did you know this is a good place to spot pine martens? Did you know that fourteen people have been killed by adders in Britain in the last hundred and fifty years? Would you like me to tell you ten fascinating facts about capercaillies?”
Mr Deacon yawned. “You can tell us all over breakfast, Lewis. Get back to your bed, for goodness’ sake.”
Lewis nodded and slipped into the dormitory. He pulled off his outer clothes, threw himself on the bed and fell instantly asleep.
He could smell Derek’s appalling musky deodorant. When he opened his eyes he could see Derek, in Spiderman boxers, spraying deodorant over his equally stinky trainers.
“That reeks,” he murmured, still half asleep.
Derek spun round, sprayed a jet of deodorant over Lewis’s bed. “There you go. You’ll smell better now. What was all that about last night?”
“What do you mean?” Lewis asked, trying to suss him out. Yawning, he pushed off the duvet, swung his legs across and sat on the edge of the bed. When he pulled off his T-shirt, his muscles twanged. Grimacing, he examined the bruises on his skinny calves. There was a large graze on his shoulder and his hand was badly scratched. He looked like he’d been in a fight.
“You sneaked out and didn’t come back until it got light. I was dead worried. I didn’t know if I should call Mr Deacon. How far did you get this time?”
Derek seemed genuinely interested, but Lewis was still trying to process all that had happened last night.
“I wasn’t running away.” For some reason, it seemed important for Derek to know that. “I went… I went looking for something I’d lost.”
“What was that, then?”
Lewis tapped his nose. “Top secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
Derek grinned, seeming pleased with this answer. He stuffed his deodorant can into an already full case, then peered at Lewis through his thick-lensed varifocals.
“You don’t look too good. Just as well we’re going home.”
We’re going home.
Lewis didn’t think he’d ever heard three lovelier words. He smiled at Derek, feeling a twinge of guilt. Derek always tried to be friends and he’d always looked down on him. Let’s face it: Lewis had sneered at him. And Derek was nice. He’d been worried about Lewis.
Lewis dragged himself out of bed. He looked down at his tangled sheets, his rumpled duvet. Every other bed was already crisply made. Maybe he should do the same, just to get peace.
Dizzy with tiredness, he got up and smoothed his duvet. From the other side of the room, Tariq chucked a sock at him.
“Nice one, Lewis. We’ve definitely won this. I heard the girls’ dorm’s a tip.”
It felt like acceptance.
After breakfast, Scott and Max gave a farewell speech, during which Flora sat in floods of tears, sniffing loudly and declaring herself heartbroken.
“What’s she like?” grumbled Rhona. “Every ruddy day’s a drama starring Flora.”
Lewis sighed, flicked his hair out of his eyes. Maybe he should get it cut, stop hiding behind his fringe. Or maybe he should dye it purple, something a bit more standout than black.
“It feels weird to be going home, for everything to just go back to normal,” Lewis said. “I mean, I’m glad it’s over and that the unicorns are safe. And I’ll be really glad to be back in my own bed. But life’s going to feel a bit flat.”
“Yup. Eastgate’s definitely a unicorn-free zone. We’re going back to boring old normal.”
Rhona’s eyes looked sad, and Lewis remembered that her ‘normal’ was caring for her mum. It was hard to imagine what that would be like: coming home from school to housework, having to make his own dinner and clean up afterwards. It had never even crossed his mind to do that in his own house.
All that time he’d spent moaning about having to go on this trip, while for Rhona it had been an escape. Lewis cringed when he thought about it, then cringed some more when he thought of his sulkiness towards his own mum. His mum had needed an escape too, from their dingy little flat, and from him. No wonder she’d fled to that five-star hotel as soon as the chance came. He wondered if she’d enjoyed her course and found himself hoping she’d had the best time ever. She deserved it after everything she’d been through.
He was trying desperately to think of something to say to Rhona that wouldn’t sound soppy or patronising when she speared her bacon with her fork so hard that he winced.
“At least normal life will be safer,” she said, stuffing bacon into her mouth and chewing. “Last night I didn’t think we were going to make it to our twelfth birthday parties.”
The moment for soppiness was over. It was probably for the best.
Lewis nodded. “Excellent point. We’ve survived. And we saved the unicorns. What did you say last night? We’re flamin’ heroes.”
Mr Deacon got to his feet and ran a hand through his wispy hair. His jacket was so rumpled he looked as though he’d slept in it.
“Right guys. We need to make sure nothing is left behind. You’re all responsible for your own gear. Go sort yourselves out!”
Mr Deacon: a pure legend. It was hard to get his head round that idea, but he had to admit that the teacher had made a lot more effort to understand what was going on in Rhona’s life than he had.
As they dragged their holdalls towards the bus, Miss James rushed around, herding them like a hyperactive sheepdog. Mr Deacon stood at the bottom of the bus steps, looking tired and dishevelled.
As Lewis put his hand out to grab the bar, Mr Deacon spoke. “You’ve had a time of it, lad. Bet you’re sorry you came.”
Am I sorry? Do I wish none of this had happened?
Lewis stepped onto the bus, then turned and shook his head.
“It was unforgettable, Mr Deacon. Some of it was hell, but the rest… the rest was magic.”
And he headed to the seat Rhona and Derek were keeping for him at the back of the bus.
Unicorn Names
The names of the unicorns in this book are words from Scottish Gaelic.
Dubhar (Doo-ur) – dark shadow
Liath (Lee-ah) – grey
Sneachda (Shnyech-ka) – snow
Saorsa (Soor-sa) – freedom
Unicorns
A group of unicorns is known as a bl
essing.
There are many ancient Eastern myths about unicorns. The Japanese unicorn, the kirin, is a fierce creature who punishes criminals by piercing them through the heart with its horn. The Chinese unicorn, the qilin, is considered a good omen and never harms other creatures.
In the fifth century bc, the ancient Greek historian Ctesias wrote about white unicorns with multicoloured horns. He thought they were animals from India.
Viking traders used to sell unicorn horns that were really the tusks of narwhals (narwhals are a kind of whale). The traders bought the tusks from the Inuit, then took them south and sold them for vast sums of money.
In the Middle Ages, people believed that unicorn horns could heal wounds and sickness, and neutralise poison. London pharmacies still sold powdered unicorn horn in the mid eighteenth century.
Marco Polo thought he saw a unicorn on his famous travels. He wrote: “A passing ugly beast to look upon and is not in the least that which our stories tell of.” He was probably looking at a rhinoceros!
Mary, Queen of Scots brought a piece of unicorn horn with her from France to Scotland when she became queen. She stuck the horn into her food before she ate, because she believed it would show if the meal had been poisoned by her enemies.
In the twelfth century, King William I included the unicorn on the Scottish coat of arms. The unicorn has been a Scottish heraldic symbol ever since. At the end of the twelfth century, King Robert III, grandson of Robert the Bruce, used the unicorn in the royal seal of Scotland.
The Scottish Royal Arms shows two unicorns. When James VI of Scotland became James I of England too, he created a version that swaps one of the Scottish unicorns for an English lion.
For Scottish people the unicorn represents healing, joy and harmony. It is also a symbol of power and strength. But according to folklore, a free unicorn is a dangerous beast. This is why the Scottish heraldic unicorn is in chains.
You can see statues and heraldic images of unicorns all over Scotland, from the fountain in the courtyard at Linlithgow Palace to the mercat (market) crosses in many Scottish towns and cities.
Guardians of the Wild Unicorns Page 13
