by Nimmo, Jenny
said a sign on the door of the Pets’ Café. Below the sign there was a list of all the extra treats on the Sunday menu. Mrs Onimous had evidently been cooking some very special food for the returning animals.
When Charlie went in he was met by Norton, the bouncer, in a pink T-shirt adorned with sparkling elephants.
‘Come in, Charlie. Your mates are over there with an extra gerbil for you.’ Norton pointed at Gabriel, who waved and held up a small bundle of black-and-white fur.
The café had been decorated with coloured streamers and fairylights, just as if it were Christmas.
‘We wanted the place to look festive now that the animals have come back,’ said Norton, ‘but I’m not sure that they appreciate the gesture. Some of them are still very nervous. Look at that cat, trembling something awful. And the birds aren’t singing as much. Whatever it was that made them all run away is still around, if you ask me.’
‘I think so, too,’ said Charlie. He made his way over to the table where Gabriel was sitting with Olivia, Emma and Fidelio.
Olivia’s rabbit had tucked its head under her chin and Nancy duck was sitting under Emma’s chair.
‘Nancy’s still in a state,’ said Emma. ‘It’s great to have her back, though.’
‘Mum let me bring Wilfred’s hutch into the hall,’ said Olivia. ‘Look at him. He’s just a bundle of nerves.’
Fidelio’s deaf cat was fast asleep in a cat basket under the table. Deafness and old age seemed to have made her immune to the atmosphere that was troubling the younger animals.
Fidelio advised Charlie to get some Green Heavenlys before they all went. ‘They’re fabulous,’ he said. ‘Dripping with green icing and chocolate and stuff.’
Charlie joined the queue at the counter. Lysander and Homer were two places ahead of him and Charlie noticed that the grey parrot looked very depressed. His head drooped and he kept repeating, ‘Retreat! Retreat! Watch the dogs!’
Did he mean the Looms’ Rottweilers? Charlie wondered. He looked round the café but there was no sign of them. Perhaps Homer was remembering something that had happened to him in the army.
By the time Charlie reached the counter all the Green Heavenlys had gone. ‘Sorry, mate,’ said Mr Onimous. ‘Lysander took the last two. Should have rationed them, shouldn’t I? The Nut-Pom sticks are good. Try some.’
‘Aren’t they for animals?’ asked Charlie.
‘They’re uni-food,’ said Mr Onimous with a chuckle. ‘Get it? One for all.’
‘Uni? Oh, yes, OK. Just one, please,’ Charlie said cautiously, ‘and a jam and ginger ring.’
Charlie had just sat down when Tancred swept in. Norton was being rather fussy. ‘No animal, no entry,’ he told Tancred.
‘Look,’ said Tancred, pointing at Gabriel. ‘He’s got my entry ticket.’
‘Animals aren’t tickets, young man,’ growled Norton.
Tancred stamped his foot and a wild wind blew through the room. Plates, tumblers and cutlery were sent flying, not to mention Nut-Pom sticks, Green Heavenlys, ginger rings and other goodies. Luckily, Mr Onimous had taken to providing plastic instead of glass and china, so there were no breakages. But the commotion sent some of the more nervous animals over the edge. A terrible wailing, howling and squealing started up.
Gabriel rushed over to Tancred with a white gerbil. ‘It’s all right, Mr Norton. Here’s Tancred’s gerbil. Calm down, Tanc, everything’s OK.’
Once Tancred was in a mood it took him ages to calm down. Charlie and the others, having just retrieved their food, clung to their plates as Tancred came storming over. He took the empty seat next to Lysander and then realised he had nothing to eat.
‘Here,’ Lysander pushed his second Green Heavenly over to Tancred.
Charlie watched sadly as the storm boy bit into the delicious-looking cookie. It did drip with icing and honey. But at least it soothed Tancred’s temper. The wind died to a little breeze that occasionally flipped over a nut-stick or a thin biscuit.
‘So,’ said Lysander, when things had calmed down, ‘I heard you got detention, Charlie. Did you see the hundred heads?’
‘Did I?’ Charlie said emphatically. ‘I’ll say I did. You’ll never believe what I heard.’
‘WHAT?’ said his friends in unison.
Charlie swallowed his last piece of ginger ring, washed it down with cherry juice and then told his friends everything he could remember about his night under the table. When it came to Miss Chrystal’s revelation, he built the tension by describing his prickling scalp and by the time he had finished, everyone was scratching their heads.
Fidelio looked completely stunned. ‘What am I going to do?’ His voice was quiet and scared. ‘She’s my violin teacher.’
There was a dramatic silence. No one knew what to suggest.
‘She’s got nothing against you,’ Lysander said at last. ‘So I’d just carry on as normal.’
‘But I can’t, can I?’ Fidelio looked wildly round the table. ‘I mean I know what she is – how can I forget it?’
‘And what about this count she’s let loose?’ Emma hugged Nancy so hard she let out a startled quack. ‘Where is he? What’s he going to do?’
‘I can tell you where he is,’ Charlie said grimly. ‘He’s the new owner at Kingdom’s and he calls himself Mr Noble.’
‘How d’you know that?’ asked Tancred.
‘Because . . .’ Charlie hesitated. He hadn’t wanted to mention his mother, but he’d gone too far to stop. ‘Because my mum went to the Grand Ball with him.’
‘Charlie, no!’ Emma’s hand flew to her mouth.
The others gasped and spluttered and Fidelio said, ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know. I need a bit of help, don’t I?’ Charlie said wretchedly.
His friends murmured in agreement, and then fell silent again. A wordless gloom settled on the group, until, without any warning, Olivia decided to do something rash.
One minute the table was empty but for a few crumbs, the next it was covered by a huge, fat, yellow-and-black spotted caterpillar.
Tancred yelled and leapt away from the table. A terrified gerbil flew several feet into the air, and Homer swooped eagerly, only to see his meal disappear before his eyes.
‘Who did that?’ Tancred demanded.
‘Who did that?’ Lysander looked furious.
‘Why did whoever did that, do it?’ Gabriel asked shakily.
The others, who knew about Olivia’s endowment, looked uncomfortable.
‘It was me,’ said Olivia. ‘You all looked so gloomy, I thought you needed a bit of a jolt.’
‘You,’ said Lysander. ‘Since when have you been able to do stuff like that?’
Olivia glanced at Charlie. ‘Since last term. Charlie was there, and Fidelio and Emma. But no one else knows.’
‘And we want to keep it that way,’ said Charlie. ‘So there’s at least one endowed person the Bloors don’t know about.’
Lysander looked over his shoulder. ‘You’ll have to be more careful,’ he said gravely. ‘Anyone in this café could have seen that yellow monster.’
‘There are enough monsters in here already. No one would have guessed it was an illusion.’ Olivia gave Lysander a smug grin.
‘They would if they’d seen it disappear,’ he retorted.
Charlie was still hungry. His mother had been fast asleep when he left the house, and without Maisie to cook one of her big Sunday roasts, he’d had to make do with a lump of cheese and a stale bun. He was about to go up to get another Nut-Pom stick, when he saw Mr Onimous making his way towards their table. His hand was placed on the shoulder of a very small girl with bouncing brown curls and large hazelnut eyes. The little girl was carrying a plate piled high with pink and blue balls.
‘I want to introduce you to Una,’ said Mr Onimous when he reached the children’s table. ‘She’s brought an extra treat for you all. Marshmallow globes.’
The little girl beamed round at everyone.
‘Hullo, Una!’ They all returned her bright smile.
Mr Onimous leaned closer to the table and confided, ‘She’s my brother’s daughter. Twins we are, and with Onoria and me not having been blessed with children, Una here is like our own little daughter. Also,’ he lowered his voice, ‘she is endowed.’
When he said this, the little girl suddenly vanished, leaving the plate of marshmallows hanging in the air.
‘No. Not now, darling,’ Mr Onimous said sharply.
Una reappeared, still holding the plate which she carefully placed on the table, saying, ‘Grub’s up!’
Everyone grabbed a marshmallow globe and Una cried gaily, ‘That’s right. Stuff yourselves.’
‘She’s very forward,’ Mr Onimous said ruefully. ‘It’s her mother’s fault. She spoils her.’ Before leading the little girl away, he added, ‘Una’s only five but, like some of you, she’s special. So remember her when the time comes.’
‘What time, Mr Onimous?’ said Charlie.
‘Who knows what lies around the corner?’ Mr Onimous’s smiling, whiskery face all at once became very grave. He clasped Una’s hand and they made their way back to the kichen.
‘I hope that count thingy isn’t lying round the corner,’ said Gabriel, through a mouthful of marshmallow.
‘He’s bound to be, isn’t he?’ said Emma. ‘I mean if he’s not round this corner, he’ll be round another one, until –’
‘Em, don’t be so pessimistic.’ Olivia wiped her mouth and stood up. ‘We can take him on. We’ve got powers.’
‘I think they need our table.’ Lysander pointed at an elderly couple with trays of food and four white cats, one perched on each of their shoulders.
Homer settled the argument over who should have the last marshmallow by spearing it with his beak. The group collected their pets and moved to the door. Charlie was the first out and to his surprise, he walked straight into Benjamin and Runner Bean.
The big dog leapt up at Charlie with a welcoming bark, and Charlie realised how much he’d missed him.
‘You didn’t tell me what time you were coming here,’ Benjamin said accusingly. ‘You’re not leaving already, are you?’
The others were coming out of the café and Charlie stood aside to let them pass. ‘Sorry, Ben,’ he said.
‘Are you going to come for a walk, then?’ asked Benjamin.
‘Um – I don’t think so,’ Charlie said uncomfortably. He’d promised to meet his uncle at the bookshop, but he didn’t want Benjamin tagging along.
Gabriel waved at Charlie and followed the two older boys out of Frog Street. All three lived on the hill outside the city, and Gabriel’s mother usually gave him a lift. Fidelio and the girls waited for Charlie.
‘Why are you being like this?’ Benjamin said, with a sob in his voice.
Charlie felt bad. ‘I’m not being anything,’ he said as gently as he could. ‘I’m just busy.’
‘No one will be my friend.’ Benjamin stared gloomily at his feet.
‘We will.’ Frowning at Charlie, Emma put her arm round Benjamin’s skimpy shoulders. ‘We’re going to the bookshop. You can come if you like.’
‘The bookshop?’ Benjamin seemed uncertain. ‘No, I don’t think so, thank you. Runner needs a walk.’ He threw Charlie a reproachful look. ‘Maybe I’ll see you next weekend.’
‘It’s a deal,’ said Charlie. ‘Friday night. Soon as I get back from school.’
‘OK.’ Benjamin trudged away from them, while Runner Bean did his best to cheer him up, bouncing round his woeful figure with squeaky barks of encouragement.
‘Why are you being so mean to Ben?’ asked Emma.
Charlie gave a guilty shrug. ‘His parents are spies, Em. There’s too much to lose. Other people’s lives depend on our secrecy.’
‘Oooh!’ Olivia mockingly wiped her brow. ‘We are being serious today. Charlie, you can carry my rabbit. Now, let’s all go and bother Emma’s auntie.’
Handing her pet-carrier to Charlie, she skipped ahead, while the others struggled along with baskets of duck, cat and rabbit. Charlie and Fidelio exchanged looks. They wished Olivia hadn’t dressed quite so flamboyantly. In a long faux-fur white coat, red boots and a black hat with silver tassels, she was attracting far too much attention. The boys were relieved when they left the High Street for the quiet alley that led to the bookshop.
Halfway up the alley, Fidelio suddenly stopped and said, ‘Charlie, I forgot to tell you. Tolly Twelve Bells has been stolen.’
‘What?’ Charlie put down the rabbit-carrier.
Gently lowering Nancy’s basket on to the cobbles, Emma exclaimed, ‘The knight that woke me up!’
‘That’s the one,’ said Fidelio. ‘Remember, Charlie. You gave me the case to keep safe. There was a mechanical knight inside it, that stood up while bells rang and a choir chanted.’
Charlie remembered it very well. How could he forget Tolly Twelve Bells? Emma’s father, Dr Tolly, had made the knight before he died. It was intended to wake Emma from her deep hypnosis, and it had worked. Charlie had hoped that, one day, it would wake his father. But now that chance had been lost.
‘I can’t believe it. How can it have been stolen?’ Charlie demanded.
Fidelio shrugged. ‘Sorry, Charlie. There are so many people in our house – children coming for music lessons and stuff. No one noticed.’
Olivia had reached the bookshop and began to shout at the others. ‘Come on, you lot. What are you doing?’
They picked up their animals and trudged towards her.
Ingledew’s was closed on Sundays and Emma had to ring the bell. Uncle Paton opened the door and gasped, ‘Who’s the pop star?’
‘Don’t be silly, Mr Yewbeam.’ Olivia grinned with pleasure.
‘Silly, am I?’ Paton raised an eyebrow.
They followed him into the shop and put their baskets and coats beside the counter. Luckily, the duck, the cat and the rabbit were all asleep.
Miss Ingledew called them into the back room, and they found her sitting at her desk with Bartholomew Bloor’s diaries in front of her. One was open, and the others were stacked in a neat pile.
‘Charlie, I hope you don’t mind,’ she said. ‘But we couldn’t resist reading through them all.’
‘Hey. What are they?’ asked Fidelio, peering at the open diary.
‘Just diaries,’ Charlie said awkwardly. ‘Well, not just diaries. They were sent to me by someone who collected stories about the Red King.’
‘Cool!’ Olivia grabbed a diary from the top of the pile and plonked herself down on the sofa. ‘Not so cool,’ she declared, leafing through the book. ‘It’s a real mess.’
Uncle Paton took the diary out of her hands. ‘Olivia, dear girl, you must understand that real treasures never advertise themselves. This book has been where you can never hope to go; its contents are priceless and may, one day, save your life.’
Olivia looked into Uncle Paton’s solemn face and blushed. She had a deep respect for Charlie’s uncle. In fact he was one of the few people whose criticism she took to heart. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.
‘I should think so.’ Uncle Paton replaced the diary. ‘Now, I am sure Charlie has already told you about his night under the table, so you might as well know what Miss Ingledew and I have discovered while reading through these books.’ He tapped the pile and said impatiently, ‘Do sit down, the rest of you. You look most uncomfortable, hovering like that.’
Emma and Fidelio moved several files from the sofa and squeezed themselves either side of Olivia. Charlie sat on the floor and Uncle Paton dropped into an armchair.
‘Much has been said of a certain mirror.’ Paton looked at his audience, but no one said a word. ‘Charlie heard that it was called the Mirror of Amoret. And it was, indeed, made for the baby who was born nine days before Queen Berenice died. The Red King made it himself. He gave it to his second son, Amadis, to keep for the baby until she was old enough to use it. The mirror has many magical properties; most impor
tant of all, it can give its owner the power to travel . . .’
‘D’you mean . . .?’ said Charlie.
‘Yes, Charlie. Your sort of travelling. Look into the mirror and the person you wish to see will appear. If you want to find that person, look again, and the mirror will take you to them, wherever they are.’
‘Awesome. I’d like to have a go at that,’ said Fidelio. ‘Hey, I could meet Mozart.’
‘I’m afraid you couldn’t’, said Miss Ingledew. ‘The mirror will only work for the Children of the Red King.’
‘But it worked for the count,’ Fidelio argued.
‘He is an enchanter,’ Uncle Paton said flatly. ‘We believe he stole the mirror, partly to prevent others from using it. Though when he buried it, naturally, he hoped that one of his endowed descendants would find it, and use it to help him travel out of the king’s portrait.’
Miss Ingledew gave an involuntary gasp. ‘Paton, it has just occurred to me that if the count has the mirror, he can travel again.’ She gripped the arms of her chair and leaned forward. ‘In and out of paintings and photos and – oh dear, I hope he doesn’t.’
Miss Ingledew had conjured up such a frightening picture, the loud ringing of the doorbell had everyone jumping out of their seats.
Uncle Paton went to answer the door and returned a minute later with an extremely glamorous woman. She was wearing an identical version of Olivia’s outfit, except that her hat was red and her boots silver.
‘Mum!’ cried Olivia. ‘You’re early.’
‘It’s getting so dark,’ said Mrs Vertigo. ‘Unnaturally dark. I’m sorry if I’ve broken up a meeting, or whatever you clever folk were getting up to.’
‘You’re very wise, Mrs Vertigo,’ said Paton. ‘I don’t like the look of it at all. Very unpleasant weather. Perhaps you could give this young man a lift.’
Fidelio was about to protest, but Olivia and her mother swept him out of the room. As soon as the pets were retrieved the three of them left the shop. Fidelio shot Charlie a look of bemused surrender before the door closed and the Vertigos bore him away.
‘It’s time for us to be going,’ said Uncle Paton, a little reluctantly. ‘Come on, Charlie.’
