Lucinda wasn’t sure how to react. She smiled briefly and turned around to face the front. Seconds later, she turned back and smiled again.
‘Ha! It’s working!’ thought Alice smugly. Although her stomach was churning as she remembered what Imogen had said about Mr Rowbottom. She didn’t feel so smug when she noticed the disapproving look that Sarah was giving her, who had no idea why Alice should want to humour anyone from the coven. Alice planned to explain everything later, including Sarah’s impending visit to the village. She spent her lunch break doing the geography homework that she had missed the day before, with Sarah’s help. Not that she needed help these days, but when her friend began to recount what they had covered in the lesson, she didn’t have the heart to interrupt.
After a horrible hockey lesson shivering in the cold and rain, Alice knew for sure that sport was not part of her gifted ability. She certainly wasn’t immune to being bashed on the ankles. As they walked back to school from the playing field, Alice took the opportunity to bring Sarah up to date with yesterday’s developments. Amazingly, she took it all in calmly and didn’t seem at all surprised about Fay from The Coffee Cauldron. However, when the part came about her invitation to the village, she couldn’t contain her excitement.
‘Oh...my...life! That’s going to be brilliant! I can’t wait!’ she squealed.
‘Shhh,’ warned Alice, looking over her shoulder nervously. ‘They’re all quite normal, really.’
‘By your standards,’ Sarah pointed out.
*
That evening, Thomas had arranged to take Alice to see Grandad Parker. And Grandma, of course. The visit was primarily to introduce Alice to the family Finwip history, though Alice was hoping to interrogate him further about that mysterious kidnapping situation. Thomas was using the excuse that he had bought Grandad some of his favourite fudge from the shop in Oxford.
During dinner, her mother asked if she had caught up after missing a day of school yesterday.
‘Oh yes, I didn’t miss that much. I’ve done the homework already.’
‘Good. We don’t want you to slip now that you’re doing so well,’ said her mother, satisfied.
‘You’ve done well for someone who had a bad stomach yesterday!’ commented her father, nodding at her empty plate.
‘Er...well, I was hungry. We’ve been playing hockey this afternoon. And I feel much better today,’ Alice replied, worried that he was suspicious.
‘Must have been that rotten twenty-four hour bug that’s going round at the moment,’ he said.
‘Probably,’ Thomas joined in. ‘I know a lot of people who’ve had what Alice had yesterday.’
Clever, conceded Alice in silent admiration. She breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully her mother changed the subject.
‘What are you going to do with yourself in the holidays?’ she asked. ‘You break up in a few days!’
‘Nothing much,’ said Alice. Although she intended to spend time getting to know the village and its inhabitants.
Her father asked if any Christmas parties were coming up. Thomas had already been to lavish Christmas parties in Oxford before term ended. Their term ended at the beginning of December, over a fortnight before Alice finished school. Some people have all the luck.
‘I haven’t been invited to any yet,’ Alice confessed, feeling rather ashamed. She described enviously the previous Christmas parties she had heard about that the Rowbottoms had thrown. They lived in an enormous house, like a stately home, with acres of land and their own stables. Even a live-in maid, so Katy Smackwell had once told everyone. Apparently, there had been a Father Christmas at last year’s party with real reindeer outside and wonderful presents for everyone. Katy received a silver fountain pen engraved with her name. Olivia got a silver bracelet with her initial and a blue stone, Alice had seen it. On that occasion, blue couldn’t have been chosen to represent intelligence...
‘I don’t trust that man,’ said her father. ‘I was only there last week. Someone reported a man lying outside his gates and we were sent out to him. I won’t go into detail, but he was in a bad way.’
‘What happened there, then?’ asked Thomas.
‘Well, it seemed obvious to us, but Brian Rowbottom insisted he’d never seen the man before. Conveniently, the CCTV camera on the gates wasn’t working.’
Alice felt queasy. She was glad she’d finished her vegetable risotto...
After dinner, she went upstairs to get ready while Thomas helped clear the table. She felt strangely anxious. It was only her grandad they were visiting, but she saw him in a different light now. Would he expect her to behave differently now she was a Finwip? More to the point, why hadn’t he and Thomas warned her earlier what was happening? All those weeks of feeling ill and confused. Anger began to well up as she thought about it - she slammed her hairbrush down on the desk and kicked the wardrobe door to close it.
There she was again! That blonde girl in the mirror who looked perfectly normal, but was gradually realising she was anything but.
Chapter 6
Revelations
Thomas borrowed his mother’s Mini to drive them to Stonethorpe village, which was about four miles away. He always felt silly driving a tiny blue car with the Union Jack painted on the roof, but Alice loved it. Grandma and Grandad Parker lived in a thatched bungalow in what tourists might describe as a picturesque, traditional English village. Theirs was one of a cluster of black and white cottages arranged around the village green, with a red telephone box and a grocery shop. Alice remembered buying sweets there when she was small and she would have now, if it had been open. The green certainly wasn’t green tonight. It was covered in snow, glistening beneath the white lights of the magnificent Christmas tree in the centre. Alice looked forward to seeing it every year – so did Thomas, not that he would admit it.
Grandad was a professional photographer. Although he had reached retirement age long ago, he still worked because photography was his passion. Grandma was from Germany originally, but had moved to England in her teens and trained to become a midwife. She, however, had retired and spent much of her time baking fantastic cakes. Alice was hoping for a masterpiece this evening.
On arrival, there were hugs all round. Her grandparents congratulated her, as if she had achieved something wonderful, rather than being an unwitting participant in events that were making life rather awkward. Alice hadn’t even been sure that Grandma would know about Finwips, but clearly Grandad kept nothing from her, which was a good thing.
It looked promising for a cake: Grandma wiped some flour off her rosy cheeks and rubbed her hands briskly on her apron. As she smoothed down her thick, mousey hair, she noticed Alice’s uneasy body language. She seemed restless, twiddling the buttons on her coat.
‘Your grandad and I met when we were just eighteen, you know. His wings didn’t present themselves until two years later and we were married by then. I always knew he was an odd one, but I wasn’t expecting that, I can tell you!’ she joked.
Alice smiled.
‘She’s not complaining, she loves the Finwips and all the social gatherings in the village,’ said Grandad. ‘They love her too, for all the cakes she provides!’
They went through to the lounge, where they sat down around the dinner table. It was old-fashioned and cosy, with an open fire, dark wooden furniture and tapestry seat covers. You could scarcely see any wallpaper for all the framed photographs that Grandad had taken over the years. It reminded Alice of cave paintings, since you could look around and follow the history of their life. Dotted here and there were Grandma’s reminders of Germany: a brightly-coloured Bierkrug with a metal lid, a matchbox-sized Trabant toy car and an extensive collection of books that Alice couldn’t read. Mind you, perhaps she could if she tried now. Would she be fluent in German although she hadn’t started to learn it yet?
Laid out on the table were photo albums, scrap-books and an old biscuit tin full of black and white photographs. Grandad rummaged in the tin until he fou
nd a small photo which he passed to Alice. ‘That was taken the day after my metamorphosis,’ he explained. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t have taken any photos if I hadn’t been able to develop them myself. I couldn’t risk taking them to a shop.’
Thomas had seen them all before. He took the fudge from his coat pocket and handed it to his grandad.
‘Ah, that’s the stuff! Rum and raisin. Good lad, thank you.’ He started on it straight away. ‘I’m not sharing, you understand,’ he mumbled with his mouth full.
‘They won’t be needing fudge,’ said Grandma promptly. ‘I made their favourite, Pflaumenkuchen.’ She went out to the kitchen.
‘Yum!’ said Alice with a grin, as she began to analyse the photograph. There was her grandad in a dimly-lit room with the curtains drawn. It had been taken sideways-on to show the size and detail of his wings. He described them as Serotine bat wings, but they had the usual transparent characteristics of Finwip wings. Grandad certainly looked peculiar with wings, not to mention the short trousers and hideous patterned shirt. But more importantly, it was a comforting insight for Alice.
‘So who helped you when you changed?’ she asked him.
‘My boss, when I was an apprentice photographer. As a Finwip himself, he saw the signs, which is why he took me on.’
‘That was lucky,’ said Alice, intrigued.
‘It certainly was,’ agreed Grandma, as she brought the colossal Pflaumenkuchen and a bottle of apple juice to the table. ‘I don’t know what we’d have done otherwise.’
‘It’s not really down to luck,’ Grandad continued. ‘No one is left alone for their metamorphosis. There’s always a Finwip watching over a newcomer. All Finwip communities make sure of that. That’s why you’ll find a lot of them working in schools and colleges on the look-out for developments.’
‘And cafes, it would seem,’ added Thomas.
‘What, all over the country?’ asked Alice, wide-eyed.
Grandad nodded in a matter-of-fact manner while Thomas tried to keep a straight face.
‘All over the world, Alice,’ Grandad clarified. ‘Though we’re not keen on very hot climates, they make our wings dry and uncomfortable.’
‘I just can’t believe it,’ declared Alice, helping herself to a slice of cake. ‘I can’t believe that there must be thousands of us. Which means there must be hundreds of Finwip groups underground all over the world. Anywhere you go you could be walking on top of a village! Mmm, this cake is delicious – I love plums.’
‘You’ll find that holidays are much more fun if you find the local Finwip village,’ revealed Grandma. ‘Especially in Germany, my, the stories we could tell you!’
‘Could, but won’t yet!’ interrupted Grandad.
‘What’s your special gift, then?’ asked Alice, gulping down her apple juice.
‘Just the photography, as far as I know. I’m classed as an artist anyway, I wear a gold cloak. I took most of the photographs in the Finwip dining hall, you might have seen them.’
Alice nodded.
‘So your gift is super-intelligence?’
‘I think so,’ replied Alice modestly.
‘Lucky you,’ said Grandad. ‘That’s the best gift as far as I’m concerned. Worth having and useful on so many levels. It will earn you respect as well.’
‘Hmm,’ grunted Alice. ‘It hasn’t yet. Anyway, why didn’t you tell me what was going on? I’ve been living a nightmare for weeks, muddling through on my own and no one said anything.’
‘Well, you may have felt alone, but you weren’t, I can assure you. As well as Thomas and myself, who recognised your symptoms, there have been several Finwips watching over you from a distance. We have to be one hundred percent sure, which means waiting until the final transformation. Our community must be protected, we can’t risk anyone finding out.’
Alice looked less than impressed. ‘I can’t believe you never told Dad what you are.’
A look of guilt swept over Grandad’s face. ‘I had my reasons. In some ways, Alice, your dad was a lot like you when he was at school. He felt he didn’t fit in, and took a lot of stick from the other kids. Largely because of me.’
Alice frowned.
‘He went to a good school; a grammar school, where most of the dads wore a suit and drove a flash car. Then there was me, the photographer with long hair, foppish clothes and an old heap of a vehicle. I was an embarrassment to Mike. In the end, he preferred to walk home. All he wanted was to be like the other kids. Of course, it didn’t help matters that he was a chubby lad. He’s always liked his food!’
‘So you didn’t want to make him feel any worse,’ Alice realised.
‘Exactly. I never had the heart to tell him, even when he grew up. He’s so proud of his family. I’m not sure how he’d react if he knew that you and Thomas were...different.’
‘I can understand that,’ said Alice quietly.
‘Listen,’ said Thomas. ‘I don’t want this to sound like sibling rivalry, but have you any idea why Alice is so important? To the Finwip community, I mean.’
‘You haven’t been told yet?’
‘No,’ Alice and Thomas replied simultaneously.
Grandma tutted in disapproval and cast a meaningful glance at her husband.
‘Oh, OK. For what it’s worth, I believe it’s about Theo,’ he admitted.
Thomas frowned, failing to see the significance.
‘Who’s Theo?’ asked Alice.
‘He’s one of the oldest and wisest members of our village,’ said Thomas. ‘He can predict numerical results. But he vanished a few weeks ago.’
‘You mean he was kidnapped,’ said Alice.
‘WHAT?’ Thomas looked shocked.
Grandad nodded. ‘I’m afraid he didn’t just vanish. We’re almost certain he was kidnapped by you-know-who, so that they can exploit his ability.
Thomas was appalled. ‘You mean the Sinwips?’
‘Who else? Do you think it’s pure coincidence that there have been three big lottery wins in Warwickshire in the last six weeks? I suppose they think it’s less obvious, leaving a fortnight’s gap in between.’
‘Who’s they?’ asked Alice.
‘Brian Rowbottom and his brother mainly - though he pockets the lion’s share of the money. If you don’t believe me, look at this.’
He fetched the local Courier newspaper from his armchair and laid it on the table in front of them. Tonight’s headline read, ‘Local businessman buys Aylesford Castle.’
‘How do you think he got the money for that? You’re talking an eight figure sum.’
‘I heard that on the news,’ said Alice. ‘That’s Lucinda’s dad,’ she said, pointing at the self-satisfied man in the photograph.
‘Correct. Brian is bound to be at the bottom of this.’
Thomas smirked. ‘Witty.’
Alice was lost now.
‘I still don’t...I mean, what are Sinwips?’ she asked.
‘I’m ashamed to say that they’re Finwips but with an evil streak,’ replied Grandad. ‘They’re not a different breed, they just have no morals. Hence the name they’ve acquired from us. They’re all tainted, that’s why we have separate communities. We just don’t get on. You see, Alice, in true Finwip society it’s forbidden to use our gift for personal gain, that is, in a deceitful way. If you can earn a living above ground from photography or painting or, for example, if you became a teacher, that’s fine. But we mustn’t exploit it for the wrong reasons.’
‘So you’re saying Lucinda’s dad, Brian Rowbottom, is a Sinwip?’
‘Their leader, I’m afraid.’
‘He’s kidnapped Theo to make money out of him?’
‘Exactly. So far he’s predicted three sets of winning lottery numbers. And did you hear about the bank robbery at the weekend? The thieves knew the combination of the safe.’
‘That was Brian as well?’ gasped Alice.
‘The name ‘Brian’ doesn’t quite have the ring of a supervillain, does it?’ joked Thomas.
‘He’s been called worse, I can assure you,’ said Grandad, though he wasn’t laughing. He reached for one of the scrapbooks. ‘I’m not usually wrong on these things,’ he maintained. ‘Look at these. I took them last week outside his house.’
The first photograph he pointed to showed Brian Rowbottom driving a brand new black Bentley, waiting for his electric gates to open. The second photograph, taken with a zoom lens, was of a new Porsche with a personal number plate for his wife. It was parked in one of their five garages.
‘Himmelswillen! John, you’ll be arrested for spying one of these days!’ declared Grandma, horrified at what she saw.
‘I’m always careful,’ he replied indignantly. ‘How do you think the Rowbottoms can suddenly afford all this? Only a few months ago their property business was on the verge of collapse.’
Alice rested her elbows on the table and dragged her fingers through her hair in frustration. ‘Will someone please tell me what all this has got to do with me?’ she wailed.
Grandma put her arm around Alice’s shoulders. ‘I think you’re their way in, my love,’ she said softly.
‘What?’ said Alice, none the wiser for her grandma’s insight.
‘Fate has thrown us a lifeline called Alice Parker!’ explained Grandad.
‘You said the person who could help Theo didn’t exist!’ said Alice defiantly.
‘I should have added yet. Not only do you know Rowbottom’s daughter, but no one in his community knows that you’re one of us yet. There’s a twelve month maturing process following the metamorphosis before you can be sniffed out by another Finwip. Even then, those without wings remain difficult to detect.’
‘I don’t follow,’ admitted Alice.
Alice Parker's Metamorphosis (Book 1 of the new adventure series for children) Page 6
