“So, the ‘boxed in green’ bit I get—that’s the maze because the hedge is called a box,” she said. “What else have we got?”
“‘I watch from up on high’—it must be a star constellation. And we all know which one relates to a huntsman. It’s easy! I can’t believe I missed it!”
I grinned at her, but she just shook her head. “Nope. You’ve got to give me more here.”
I pointed at the map. “Orion! He was a great hunter. Look, there’s his belt.” I traced the three dots on the cold metal as Kitty watched. “He looks over the Pleiades. That’s another group of stars.”
Kitty looked at me blankly, and then she looked around the map.
“Well, where is he then?” she asked. She felt the edges of the metal sheet to see if she could lever it off.
I looked around the middle of the maze, but there wasn’t anything else here.
“Kitty, those statues that you’ve got outside your house. Are you sure none of them look like a hunter?”
Kitty frowned and shook her head. “No. And why would he lead us here to then send us off somewhere else without another clue? He said ‘find me boxed in green,’ so it must be here. It must be in the maze!”
She crouched back down and looked underneath the map at the stone column.
“Nate, look at this,” she said.
I knelt down beside her. The four sides of the column had carvings. Each one showed a constellation in more detail, with the drawing of what it represented around it. The first was of Cassiopeia, with a woman wearing some grand clothing, the next side was of the Great Bear, then there was one I thought was Perseus of a man etched around his stars, and finally there was Orion, holding his shield up high.
“Look,” I said. “This is the hunter. That’s Orion. I remember now. I’ve been here! I have been in the middle of the maze with my parents!”
Kitty glared at me, but I grinned back at her.
“Mum said we came here years ago, but I was so young I don’t really remember it. I remember being on Dad’s shoulders and walking across some posh lawns. I didn’t know where we were going, but now I do! We came into the maze!”
Kitty studied the base of the column.
“Look!” I said. “There’s a piece of stone that’s loose.”
Beneath the carving of Orion was a triangle of rock that was propped against the column. The snow had nearly covered it. I pulled it away and revealed a dark little hole.
Kitty gasped.
“Is there anything in there? Have a look, Nate!”
I carefully reached inside, and my hands touched something soft. I flinched, then slowly put my hand back and brought out a small brown parcel.
“I don’t believe it. We’ve found it, Nate! We’ve found the treasure. Oh my.”
It was faded and a bit crumpled up and had obviously been there for a while. On the front it said Charlotte’s Treasure in the same handwriting as the clues.
“This is it, Nate. This really is it! I’ve found it at last.”
I held it toward her, but she shook her head.
“I can’t … Can you open it?”
I frowned. “Shouldn’t you give it to your dad?”
Kitty shook her head. “Please, Nate. Just open it?”
I tore the edge of the paper and took out some white tissue paper, and then I carefully unfolded the edges to reveal what was inside. It was a tiny rocking horse carved out of wood.
Kitty gasped. “A rocking horse! He made her a rocking horse for her dollhouse.”
I held it up. Kitty was enthralled, and her eyes were shining bright blue. It was as if we’d found the most precious thing in the world.
“Charlotte loved her dollhouse. She loved it so much. I can’t believe he made this for her!”
Kitty looked overwhelmed by it all. I went to give the rocking horse to her, but she shook her head again.
“No. I don’t want it. I think you should … I think you should put it back.”
I was stunned.
“Put it back? After all the trouble you’ve been to?”
Kitty nodded.
“Yes, it should stay here. Definitely.”
At first I thought it was a bit silly to go to all this trouble to find the prize to then put it back again. But then, it wasn’t Kitty’s—it was Charlotte’s—so perhaps leaving it here was the right thing to do. I carefully wrapped it back up and placed it back in the hole, beneath the carving of Orion.
I stood up and brushed the wet snow from my jeans.
“Thank you for doing this, Nate. Thank you for doing this for me. And for Charlotte.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay.”
We started to walk back through the maze.
“It’s only a small thing, but a gift like that would have meant so much to her, I’m sure.”
Even though this family didn’t mean anything to me, I could see that the present from William was a lovely thing to do.
We walked for a while in silence. We’d been so busy finding Charlotte’s treasure that I’d forgotten all about it being my birthday. And Charlotte wasn’t the only one with a gift. Mum’s present to me was still waiting in her bag, in her bedroom. My heart fluttered. She’d brought me a birthday present, and now I could open it.
It took us ages to get out of the maze. Kitty kept asking me why the rush, but I just said I needed to get back to the cottage. As soon as we emerged from the entrance I yelled goodbye and sprinted as fast as I could across the snow.
The chicken was sitting on the back doorstep, and she squawked when I rushed inside, my wet feet skidding on the kitchen floor. I ran up to Mum’s room and grabbed the bag, which I’d emptied apart from the one thing. I sat on her bed and slowly undid the zipper. There it was, nestling in the corner as if it had been waiting for me all this time. My birthday gift. My birthday gift from my mum. I carefully undid the sticky tape, and beneath the blue polka-dot wrapping paper were layers and layers of yellow tissue, protecting whatever was inside. I unpeeled them one by one, my hands trembling, and then finally, there it was.
My present.
It was a light jar.
The most beautiful light jar I had ever seen. My heart pounded as I unscrewed the silver lid and took out the little bunch of lights. I found the switch and clicked it on and the tiny bulbs twinkled against the glass. It looked magical.
I took a deep breath.
Mum wouldn’t have gotten this for me if she was going to go back to Gary. No way. This present was her way of telling me we were going to have a fresh start, without him. I felt relief. Relief that I’d been wrong about her. Relief that she hadn’t gone back to him after all. But then my heart sank. If she wasn’t with Gary, where was she? There must be another reason for her not coming back.
Something must have happened to her.
I filled my backpack with my Freaky Things book, Mrs. Ellie-Fant, the Ask Me a Question magic ball, my tennis ball, and all the other things I’d brought with me. I put my light jar on top and closed the zipper. I had to get help. I had to find out what had happened to my mum.
As I packed, I came up with a plan. I was going to go to the big house and ask Kitty’s family for help. I’d say I was a friend of Kitty’s and could I possibly use their telephone. Kitty’s parents would probably be a bit shocked when I appeared on their doorstep; they might even be a little angry, not knowing who I was, but they couldn’t refuse to help. Could they? Then I’d call Grandma and tell her everything. And then I was going to ask Grandma the big question. When we find Mum, could we come and live with her?
I found two more plastic shopping bags, and I sat on the sofa and put them on over my sneakers, tucking the tops into my socks.
“So, you’re off then? Not going to say goodbye?”
Sam had appeared beside me. I stopped for a moment, then carried on sorting out my footwear. My feet rustled as I moved.
“There’s no need. You can turn up whenever you want to, so why say goodbye? I’ll see you when
I’m at Grandma’s.”
I couldn’t look at him. Not yet.
“We both know we won’t see each other again, Nate,” said Sam. I took a deep breath and this time I looked up at him.
“I thought seeing you was my choice? You’ve always said it was because of me that you were here in the first place. That means if I want to see you again, then I will, won’t I?”
Sam smiled. “But you don’t need me any more. There’s a difference.”
I felt my cheeks burning. “B-But you’d love it at Grandma’s. She’s got the most amazing garden! We could play hot potato with the tennis ball or hide-and-seek or whatever you fancy.”
I stopped. Sam’s face was telling me it was no use.
“I can’t, Nate. It’s time for me to go.”
Tears ran down my cheeks.
“I need you, Sam, okay? I know, I know that I haven’t always been the best of friends to you … B-But I don’t want to be on my own. I don’t want to be on my own ever again.”
Sam smiled. His color was bright. As bright as it was when I’d first seen him back when I was small.
“I can’t stay, Nate. You need to do this alone, okay? You need to find help and you need to do it for you.”
He looked away and stared toward the corner of the room where he’d disappeared before, and then he took a step toward it.
“No, no, no! I’m not ready!” I called. “I—I want to tell you things! Show you more of the things in my book. You haven’t seen them all yet, have you? There are so many wonderful things in the world, Sam. Did you know that? Did you know how many amazing things are out there? I can tell you all about them!”
I was sobbing now, but I didn’t care. I just didn’t want him to leave.
“You’re my best friend, Sam. You’re my very best friend. And you’re everything I want to be.”
Sam stopped in the corner and turned around to face me. “But, Nate, I am you.”
I stopped crying, trying to get my breath back. “What? What do you mean?”
He smiled again.
“I’m right there.” He lifted his arm and pointed toward my face. His color was so bright now it dazzled my eyes. “I’ve been there with you all along.”
And then he gave me a final smile before turning away and vanishing into the corner.
I shivered. The room was cold and dim, and he wasn’t going to be coming back ever, ever again. I rubbed at my face. He was gone.
And I was all alone again.
The chicken was sitting in her washing-up bowl. I scrunched up some stale cornflakes and filled a bowl and then topped up her water. I couldn’t leave her shut inside, so I left the kitchen door open a little so she could go out and then come in for shelter when she wanted. I gently tickled the top of her head on the soft feathers.
“Bye, chicken,” I said. “Thanks for the eggs.”
I took one last look around the empty kitchen, and then I stepped out into the snow.
It was snowing heavily. My footprints from earlier were nearly gone, and I left fresh, deep prints as I made my way to William’s Gate for the last time. Once I’d walked through the old iron gate I picked up my pace and quickly made my way across the woodland floor, leaving a trail of trodden-down snow behind me. I got to the edge of the woods and looked up. All I needed to do was to head around the back of the maze, across the lawns toward William’s sheds, and then up to the house.
I sprinted the best I could, but it was hard in the thick snow, especially with plastic bags over my shoes. My breath steamed from my mouth like an old train, and I couldn’t feel my feet properly.
I stopped by some old brambles to get my breath back. The great gray house stared at me from across the patio. Nothing moved at all, apart from the flurries teeming from the sky. The blue sheeting that covered one of the holes in the roof had now turned completely white. The whole house looked frozen—like it was captured in a mighty snow globe.
I quickly walked on and headed around the side to the front of the house and looked up. The gray-bricked walls loomed over me. There were hardly any clear windows left at all around this side; most of them were boarded up. Seven steps led to a large door that was crusty with peeling black paint, and I slowly climbed them and then lifted a large brass knocker. It thudded loudly against the wood, the sound echoing inside, and then I took a step back and waited.
Nothing.
I lifted the knocker again and gave three deep bangs. I stood there for a few minutes, but no one came. Maybe there was another door I could try? I walked along the house and peered in through one of the large windows, holding my hands up to shield my eyes. The room was dark and dusty, with a grand old marble fireplace at one end. The wallpaper had peeled away like it had been cut with a knife. There was a small pile of rubble in the middle of the room, and when I looked up I could see that part of the ceiling had fallen in. This must be the area of the house that Kitty’s family didn’t use any more. She’d said some of the building had been closed off, so maybe they didn’t use the door I’d knocked on, which would explain why no one had answered.
I carried on along the house, then turned left around the side. Every now and then I looked in through the dirty glass, but the rooms were all the same: dark and empty with crumbling walls. Some had bare electric wires hanging out of the ceiling. I stopped to look at one room and saw that a section of the floor was missing and there was just a gaping black hole in the middle. And in the corner was an old brown dollhouse. It had four floors and the front had partly fallen off, but I could see inside was a jumble of miniature furniture and cobwebs.
“I don’t believe it. That must be Charlotte’s dollhouse,” I said, my breath steaming up the glass of the window. “That must be what the rocking horse was for.”
I shivered. Something wasn’t right. I knew the house needed work, but surely there would be some sign of Kitty’s family? I spotted a doorway up ahead and hurried toward it. This must have been the door the servants would have used in the old days. It wasn’t as big as the one at the front, and there were no grand steps up to it. Or a knocker. My heart was racing. This must be it. This must be the door the family used. I made a fist and hit my knuckles hard against the wood. Within seconds I heard footsteps and the door opened.
A man wearing a bright, luminous orange jacket and a yellow hard hat was standing in front of me. “Can I help you?”
I froze. This must be James Turner-Wright, Kitty’s father. But why was he wearing a hard hat? He had a clipboard under his arm.
“I—I’m a friend of Kitty’s,” I said.
The man raised his eyebrows, then looked down at the plastic bags on my feet. “Sorry. Who?”
I coughed. “Kitty. I wondered if I … erm … if I could please use your telephone, sir?”
The man in the yellow hat snorted. “Kitty? Sorry, son, but there’s no Kitty here. No one has lived in this place for about … oh, fifty years?”
My throat tightened. I reached a hand to the side and held on to the cold, frozen wall.
“I—I … What did you say?” I stammered.
“I’m from the health and safety department, and I’m here today to assess the place before any work commences. You must have the wrong house. Have you checked the address?”
My ears started to ring. This wasn’t making sense. It wasn’t making sense at all. “B-But what about Kitty?”
The man frowned at me. “This Kitty … She wouldn’t have anything to do with a car that’s parked halfway down the driveway, would she? Looks like it’s been abandoned.”
I shook my head.
“What? No. She’s about my age. She lives here with her mum and dad. Kitty Turner-Wright. She’s a bit shorter than me. Wears a blue woolly hat.”
The health and safety man gave a low chuckle. “There’s no one here called Kitty, I promise you. Are you sure you haven’t imagined her?”
I felt like I was going to be sick. No. She couldn’t be … I looked behind the man, trying to see inside the ho
use. There was a staircase in the center of the hall, but most of the steps were missing. I began to shout.
“Kitty? Kitty! It’s me, it’s Nate!”
I tried to get around him, but he was blocking the way. “I’m sorry, son, but you can’t come in here. It’s not safe,” he said, holding his arms out wide.
It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t be … She couldn’t. I took a few steps backward and shouted her name with all my might.
“KITTY!”
I ran away from the health and safety man and around the side of the house.
“Kitty! Kitty! Where are you?” I shouted, looking through the cracked windows.
“Come back!” said the man, skidding and sliding behind me. “I haven’t checked around there—it might not be safe!”
But he was too slow. I turned a corner and spotted a door that was open and quickly ducked inside. I stood still for a moment and heard the health and safety man run past. My eyes adjusted to the gloom, and I looked around. I was in a kitchen. There were cupboards all around the outside, and a lot of them had doors missing.
I felt sick. All I kept seeing was Kitty’s face as she stood grinning at me in the woods. Her woolly hat pulled low over her eyebrows. Her brown satchel slung over her shoulder. Her lips turning blue from the cold. Where was she? It didn’t make any sense.
“Kitty!” I called. “Kitty, are you in here?”
I walked through the kitchen and came out into a hallway. To the left was a staircase.
“Hello! Kitty! Where are you?”
“Help!”
A voice cried out from somewhere deep in the house. “Help me!”
I ran toward the stairs. “I’m coming! Kitty, I’m coming!”
I got to the stairs and stopped. There was a hole in the ground just where the first step should have been. A great, gaping hole like I’d seen through the other windows. The floor must have collapsed.
“Is there someone there? Help me … please!”
I lay on my stomach and peered over the edge, the floorboards creaking beneath me. I could see a shape. It was a person lying on their side, down in the hole.
The Light Jar Page 15
