by Maggie Speak
Chapter Seven
Granddad didn’t shout or rage. It was worse than that. He was quiet. They’d gone upstairs after tea, where every mouthful Jake had tried to eat seemed to stick in his throat. The board was set out for a game of chess. Jake had sat and stared at the pieces until Granddad said. “Aren’t you going to make a move, then, lad?”
Jake took a deep breath.“ I took your egg, Granddad,” he blurted out.
Granddad stared at him for what seemed ages. “Well, you’d better give it back then.” He held out his hand.
“I haven’t got it.” Having confessed that, it was easier to tell the whole story. As he spoke, Jake realized just how stupid and thoughtless he had been.
Granddad said nothing, but in his face Jake could see puzzlement, disappointment, hurt. He wished that he could turn the clock right back to this morning, and that he’d decided to take his balsa wood model to school to talk about.
“I’m so sorry, Granddad.”
He was hoping Granddad would say, “No need, lad. No need,” like he had done to Scrapper, but he didn’t. He just shook his head sadly.
“You didn’t ask me. You could have asked me, Jake. It was wrong just to take it. Where is it now?”
Jake couldn’t look at Granddad and he didn’t trust himself to speak without bursting into tears. Silently, he handed Mr. Benson’s letter to his Granddad, who read it slowly. Jake noticed that his hand was shaking and he was frightened that he would have one of his turns. At last Granddad spoke.
“So, the egg is with your Headmaster. For the first time in over twenty years it is not safe with me, but I dare say no harm will come to it. I’ll come and see him like he suggests, and take it back. I won’t tell him you took it without asking. I will not tell a lie either, understood. I’ll come with you in the morning.”
“Thank you, Granddad.”
“Put the chess pieces away will you. I don’t think either of us feels like playing just now. Then I think your Mam could do with some help downstairs. I’ll stay up here.”
As Jake was going out of the door, Granddad said, “Your Mam doesn’t know anything about the egg, so there’s no need to tell her. Just say I’m having a bit of a rest.” Granddad turned away from Jake. He said nothing more to him that night.
Jake felt really wretched. He was the only one to share Granddad’s secret, and he’d caused him nothing but trouble.
Next morning, on the way to school, Granddad walked beside Jake without speaking. Sometimes, when it was just Granddad and him, they walked hand in hand, but not if the Gang were around. Scrapper and Brains, with Sally skipping along, were a long way in front, and the sad thought came to Jake that, even if the street had been quite empty, Granddad would have not taken his hand.
The boys’ playground was full of swarming lads, kicking balls, playing leapfrog or chase, and Jake pushed his way through them without a word. Inside, Jake showed Granddad to the Headmaster’s room. Mr. Benson greeted him warmly, and told Jake to stay, too.
“Well, Mr. Finney, Jake gave us all an unexpected entertainment with his story object. I must say I’m quite surprised you let him bring something so valuable.”
Jake suddenly felt a bit sick. He glanced at Granddad, who looked him straight in the eye and said, “I have a very sensible grandson, Mr. Benson.”
“ I know that he is very proud of you, Mr. Finney. Now, have you ever heard of Peter Carl Fabergé?”
“I can’t say that I have, Mr Benson.”
“Well now, he was a Russian, although he had to leave Russia at the time of the Revolution.”
“Now that’s something I do know about. Strange country, Russia. I never thought I’d get so far afield.”
“Fabergé was a very famous jeweller and craftsman, who made the most beautiful objects.” He turned the key in his desk drawer, wiping a trace of oil from his fingers. “The caretaker’s been at it again. The key’s a bit stiff – got stuck once. Since I mentioned it, he keeps squirting oil on the keyhole. Bit of a nuisance. It’s the only key, so it’s on me all the time, and my coat pocket is beginning to look like a fish and chip paper.” From the drawer, he took out the sock, wrinkling his nose slightly, and carefully removed the egg. They all gazed at it in wonder. It had that effect. Suddenly Mr. Benson seemed to twist the egg, quite hard, and there was a click.
“Don’t break it!” shouted Jake. What was the man up to?
Mr. Benson smiled. “It was made to do that, Jake.” He opened out the two halves, and there, inside, was a perfect model of the most exquisite little ship, modelled in gold. Mr. Benson gave a long sigh. “It must be genuine.”
Granddad had grasped Jake’s hand. “Will you look at that, Jake. Beautiful, just beautiful. Beats a ship in a bottle any day. So tiny, and so perfect! What a craftsman, eh!”
“One of the greatest,” said Mr. Benson, “and his work is becoming quite valuable. We have a lot to talk about, Mr. Finney, so first perhaps you would like to go with Jake to his classroom. I think he should get back to his lessons now. We’ll take him up there, and then we can come back and continue our discussion. He gently replaced the egg in the sock, and slipped it to the back of the drawer, which he locked carefully. They all went along the passage, up the big, stone steps, and along the gloomy corridor where Jake’s classroom was. The overalled figure of Mr. Black was coming along with a bucket. “Child just been sick, sir.” Suddenly he seemed to trip, and the soapy water slopped all over the floor. He grabbed Granddad’s arm, making him loose his footing and slip flat on his back. “So sorry sir, are you all right. I’ll get me mop right away.” And off he went.
Jake put an arm round Granddad and tried to raise him up. “No, no,” said the Headmaster. “He may be concussed. Leave him there a minute.” The teacher of the class next door appeared. Between them they pulled Granddad out of the puddle. He gave a great cough and opened his eyes. They got him onto a chair, where he gazed about him in puzzlement.
“Granddad, Are you all right?”
“Aye, lad. As far as I can tell. Nothing broken. Worse things happen at sea.” He managed a smile.
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Finney?” said the Headmaster, hovering anxiously.
“How about a nice cup of tea, sweet and strong.”
“Certainly. Miss Jones, could you oblige? I will watch over your class. My dear Sir, I am so sorry. That caretaker is a bit clumsy. Hasn’t been here long.”
After Granddad had drunk his tea and said he was feeling better, the Head said,
“I think you’d be well advised to stay right where you are for a bit longer. We can talk here for a while. Jake, you’d better stay here, too, with your Granddad. Then we can go back to my room. You can go home with Mr. Finney when he feels quite ready to leave.”
As Granddad listened to what Mr. Benson had to say about his egg, his thoughts went back to the Countess Irena. Did she manage to reach safety? Where was she now? What was she doing?” His thoughts returned to the present as Mr. Benson was saying, “ . . . so you see, you must think about keeping the egg in a secure place, get it valued and insured. The Bank will help you there.”
Granddad was about to say that he’d looked after the egg, no problems, for over twenty years, thank you, but thought better of it. “I’ll just take it home for now, thank you, Mr. Benson.”
“Well, if you’re sure. Perhaps we can talk again later. Jake had better go home with you when you’re ready.”
Bill Black appeared at the end of the corridor, carrying a mop to clean up the spill.
“We’ll go back to my room first. You can rest in comfort for a while.” They walked carefully back, slithering on the soapy floor like a bunch of learner skaters.
The Headmaster installed Granddad in his own comfortable chair, unlocked his drawer, reached to the back, and pulled out an empty sock. The egg had disappeared.
Chapter Eight
It was like a nightmare. Mr. Benson pulled out the drawer, turned it upside down and shook it
. All the contents scattered on the floor. He ran his hand over the empty bottom like a demented conjurer whose trick had gone wrong. He turned out all the other drawers in his office desk, desperately hoping something would materialize. He lifted the carpet. “It’s gone,” he raved. “It was here, now it’s gone.” His face was as white as a circus clown.
Well, talk about stating the obvious, thought Jake. His heart seemed as if it had sunk to his boots. And as for Granddad, he stood, stiff as a statue, mouth wide open.
“I locked the drawer. You saw me lock the drawer. There is only one key. It is here in my hand and never leaves me. The egg has got to be here.” Mr. Benson started scrabbling again.
“That’ll do no good,” said Granddad, flatly. “It isn’t there. What is going on?”
“I’ll get the police.”
“No!” insisted Granddad. “No police. I am in charge of the egg. I must find it. Me. I’m the keeper.” His hand started to tremble, “Jake let’s go home. My head. . . I’ve got to think.” He shook his head from side to side.
Leaving Mr. Benson turning cushions and crawling on all fours under his desk. Jake and Granddad made for home. This time, Granddad did hold Jake’s hand – tight.
“Granddad, we’ll find it.” He squeezed Granddad’s hand. Jake’s head was in a whirl. Did the egg have some magic about it? Could it sort of disappear and turn up somewhere else. Magicians did that all the time. Perhaps if Granddad put the sock back in his box, the egg might return there. It was, after all, something very special.
Next morning, Jake crept out of bed while Granddad was asleep, to try to peep and see if the egg had returned. As he was bending down to reach under Granddad’s bed a voice above him said “I’ve already done that. It’s not there.” He leant over and patted Jake on the head. “I won’t come to school with you, but just ask that Headmaster of yours if he has anything to say.” He turned over and faced the wall.
When Mr. Benson saw Jake arrive, he just shook his head. “It’s still missing. Jake. I am pursuing my investigation. You must not discuss this at the moment,” he said, in his best Headmaster manner, but his voice shook. An awful thought crossed Jake’s mind. Mr. Benson seemed very taken with the egg. Could he in fact have taken it, for himself? Hidden it somewhere? No, of course he wouldn’t do anything like that. Not a Headmaster. Any rate, he’d been with them all the time.
“Where were you this morning?” said Scrapper, in the playground, as they waited for the bell to ring. “I called for you, and your Mam said you’d gone off early. Can’t wait to get to school after that success story, eh. Man, you had them hanging on your every word.”
Jake suddenly realized that nobody at school would know that anything was wrong. They’d think that the egg had been collected at the end of school and that was that. The Head would want to keep it that way. Wouldn’t look too good for him if the story got out. Other people might think he’d somehow stolen it.
“Bit of a problem there, Scrapper. Tell you about it after school. Just don’t mention it now, O.K.”
Throughout the school day there was only one thing on Jake’s mind. “Where was the egg?” He might go to the wood for a good think, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t do much good. He’d talk to the gang instead. They did have the occasional good idea. Perhaps the Head would have some news at home time, but when he went to see him, they said he’d gone out to a meeting.
In the air raid shelter in Jake’s back yard the gang assembled after school. It didn’t feel quite as adventurous as Brain’s shelter in his garden, but needs must. Sally wasn’t with them. She’d had to go to the school dentist’s to have a tooth out. “For once, I feel quite sorry for our kid,” said Scrapper. “I hate it when they put that gas thing over your face and tell you to take deep breaths. It feels like your head is exploding.”
Brains looked at Jake thoughtfully. “Come on, Jakey, tell. Something’s really wrong, isn’t it? Is your Granddad ill?”
“He is, but something’s made him ill. It’s the egg. It’s gone.” He told them the whole story, making them promise Cross my heart and hope to die if they said anything to anybody else.
“That is weird, seriously weird,” said Brains.
“Granddad’s said scarcely a word since he’s been home. Mam thinks he’s coming down with something. He’s coughed a lot, so he can’t talk. But I know he can’t talk because he’s too sad.”
Scrapper scratched his head. “Spooky. There’s something strange about that egg.”
Brains soon debunked that idea. “It’s a puzzler, O.K. But puzzles have answers. What we need is thinking time. Let’s get our thinking caps on and see what comes out.”
They sat in silence for a while, trying to concentrate on the egg.
“What do you think, Scrapper?” asked Jake at last.
Scrapper shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Still thinking.”
“Brains?”
“Well, Mr. Benson was really bowled over when he saw the egg. Who wouldn’t be? Why wouldn’t he let you take it home?
“Said it might get damaged.”
“But you’d have put it in your gas mask tin, and by the time you’d finished talking to the Head, all the kids would have cleared off.”
“Hey, you think he pinched it,” said Scrapper.
“A line of enquiry, that’s all. Did you see him lock the drawer, Jake?”
Jake shut his eyes, to try to picture the scene. “He took a key out of his pocket, locked the drawer, then pulled the key straight out and pulled the knob hard to check. He put the key straight back in his pocket. We were with him all the time. And the drawer was still locked when we went back.”
Brains was muttering to himself. “Went out – locked. Came back – locked. How long were you out of the room?”
“Don’t know. We had to get to my class. Then Granddad slipped on some water the caretaker spilled and banged his head. I don’t really know how long it was.”
“Where is the caretaker’s cupboard?”
“Blowed if I know.” Jake was getting a bit impatient. They didn’t seem to be getting very far.
“Look, I think we’d better leave it for now. Jake wants to get back to his Granddad. Let’s sleep on it.”
Next day, the gang had agreed to meet for a little while after tea. Jake was anxious to get straight home after school to see if Granddad was any better. He wasn’t! Brains, at home, finished off filling in a form for a free telescope from the corn flake packets. He’d just collected the last coupon you needed. He didn’t suppose it would be a very good one, not for six cornflake coupons, but you never knew. He rushed out to post it. Surprise, surprise, Olly Stott was sitting on his doorstep. He didn’t have any maths puzzles or anything, he was just sitting.
“Hi, Four-eyes!”
“Hi, Flat-feet!”
Greetings over, neither of them said anything for a minute. Olly finally said, “Not out with Jake and Scrapper then?”
“No, Jake’s granddad isn’t well. They’re very worried about him.”
“Sorry about the egg,” muttered Olly.
“Yes, that’s what made him ill, no doubt about it.” Suddenly, an alarm bell rang in Brain’s head. How did Olly Stott know about the egg ? He looked at Olly, who was turning red.
“What do you know about the egg?”
“Me?”
“There’s nobody else here, is there? You know something - I can tell.”
Olly didn’t speak at once. Then he muttered, “Uncle Bill told me.”
And how did Uncle Bill, the caretaker, know, wondered Brains. One thing he was certain about. The Headmaster would have kept the story to himself. This needed careful handling. He put on a serious face. “If you have information and you don’t tell, and Jake’s Granddad dies, you’ll be an accessory to murder. Know that, did you?” Brains himself didn’t know that, but it sounded good when he made it up.
Olly’s red face turned white. “He said if I knew what was good for me I’d keep my
mouth shut.”
“Accessory to murder, AND concealing evidence. You wouldn‘t stand a chance.” Brains imagined himself, grown-up, and a fully-fledged lawyer.
“I know where it is,” said Olly, in an almost whisper.
“So?”
Without a word, Olly walked off, waving Brains to follow him. Round to the back lane he went, and through his back door into the yard. “There’s nobody in, but we’ve got to be quick.” He opened the coalhouse door. It was the tidiest coalhouse Brains had ever seen. There was coal, yes, but covered with wooden planks swept spotless, and above were shelves with boxes, covered with a heavy tarpaulin. “It’s in there right at the back, behind the tins of peaches. Look, I can’t get mixed up in this. He’s my uncle, and he helps Mam out. She’s got nobody else since our Dad scarpered.”
Brains guessed how he helped her. A bit of Black Market food to add to the rations. A bit of money got from selling the stuff. He knew what the boxes might contain - anything on rations that was hard to come by. But stealing something so valuable as the egg, that was a different league, and any rate, how did he do it?
“He’s not very bright, Uncle Bill - doesn’t think much,” stammered Olly. “He must have been a bit like a magpie - caught a glimpse of something shiny and wanted it. Probably thought one of his mates could sell it for him. He meets them on a Friday – play darts together. He’s not really bad, honestly.”
Funny word to choose, thought Brains. ‘Honestly’ didn’t seem right in the circumstances. “How on earth did he manage to take it?” he asked.
“He hasn’t been in the job long. The chap before him was given the sack – left pretty quickly, given his wages and told to leave the premises. He was up to no good, but I don’t know the details. There was a shortage of overalls and Uncle Bill had to use the ones he’d left. He found a false pocket in them with a key. Nice bright, shiny, newly cut. Key to the head’s private desk. The other chap didn’t have a chance to use it, but Uncle Bill couldn’t resist it. He thought he was very smart to spill the water when he saw them all in the corridor. Seized the opportunity.”
“Well we’re smart too, and we want an opportunity to seize the egg back.”
“Look, I’ve showed you where it is. You just forget it was me that told you, and don’t bring me into it. Now it’s up to you lot.”
“It most certainly is,” said Brains, and went off to post his letter.
When the gang met after tea they were very subdued.
“Any ideas,” asked Jake, not very hopefully.
“Nope,” said Scrapper.
“One or two,” said Brains. He was really looking forward to this.
“Such as?”
“Well, it’s not going to be easy getting the egg back.”
“That’s wonderful. I could have told you that,” said Scrapper.
“But could you have told us where to find it?” asked Brains.
“Course not. Could you? They were all a bit het up and tempers were getting frayed.
“As it happens,” Brains paused for effect, “yes, I can,” and he told them all about his meeting with Olly.
Jake leapt in the air, and let out a big cheer of joy.
Scrapper shook his fist and said, “I’ll flatten that Olly Stott.”
“That’s just what you won’t do.” Then Brains told them all about his getting to know Olly, and helping him. “He’s all right, and he didn’t HAVE to tell us, you know - and if his Uncle finds out he’s for it. We’ve got to work out a plan that doesn’t get him involved.”
They all sat thinking. This time the ideas seemed to flow.
“Just one thing though. Bill Black meets his mates on Fridays. No doubt that’s when they do their little transactions. He’ll try to get rid of it then.”
“But it’s Thursday tomorrow. That gives us one day!”
