Charlie Bone and the Shadow

by Jenny Nimmo

  "I'll update you tonight, Mrs. K.!" Tancred waved his phone. "What's your number?"

  "I don't have one of those flashy things. Just come by." Mrs. Kettle ushered them out and closed the door.

  "The fish shop next," Tancred announced, as they walked down the street.

  "What d'you want to go there for?" asked Billy. "I wish we could get out of this street."

  "I was coming to the fish shop when I heard the ruckus at Mrs. Kettle's place," said Tancred. "I've decided to give Dagbert his sea urchin."

  "Swap it for Claerwen? Thanks, Tancred! But are you sure?" asked Charlie. "What made you change your mind?"

  Tancred shrugged. "You need that moth, Charlie. And the sea urchin, well, we'll have to rely on our own talents to get the better of Dagbert."

  When they reached the fish shop, Tancred tried the door. It was locked, as usual. He pressed a rusty doorbell, and they heard a long, mournful ring echo through the building. Tancred pressed again. Nothing. The bell appeared to have given its last ring.

  "Dagbert!" Charlie called up to the window. "Are you there?"

  No reply.

  They waited another five minutes before moving on. They passed a candle shop and a picture framer's, and then they were standing outside the Stone Shop.

  Charlie's instinct was to run. Billy did. He ran until he was at the end of the road, and there he waited, one hand resting on the rat in his pocket, the other nervously twisting his hair.

  "What d'you think?" said Tancred, looking into the dark store.

  "What d'you mean, what do I think?" asked Charlie.

  "I mean, should we go in?"

  "You're joking!" Charlie realized he sounded hysterical. He tried to calm down. "I don't think it's a good idea right now, Tanc. If Eric's in there, he could set the whole place off."

  Tancred stood away from the window. "You're right. Hmmm. We'll have to think this through."

  But where could they go to think things through? Their usual meeting place was closed, Grandma Bone would be on the prowl at number nine, and Tancred lived miles away in the hills.

  "My judgment's a bit off," Tancred murmured. "I feel weird after all that stuff with the troll."

  "Sorry, Tanc!" Charlie fell into step beside Tancred as he walked down the street. "How did you get here today?"

  "Gabriel's mom. She dropped me off on High Street. She and Gabriel have gone to see Mrs. Onimous."

  "Hey, let's go to the Pets' Cafe, anyway," Charlie suggested. "Even if it's closed to customers, they might let us in. We're friends."

  Fifteen minutes later they were standing on Frog Street and looking into the Pets' Cafe. Chairs were piled onto tables, a white sheet covered the counter, and not one light showed in the lamps that made the cafe such a colorful and cozy place. It looked absolutely and utterly closed. Even the tails, whiskers, wings, and claws that decorated the sign above the door didn't look as bouncy as they had before. In fact, the whole place seemed to be receding back into the huge ancient wall behind it.

  "Mrs. Silk parked around the corner," said Tancred. "But I know she was coming here."

  Charlie rang the bell.

  A light appeared behind the counter as a door was opened. Mrs. Silk appeared. She hesitated, saw the boys outside the window, and came to open the door.

  "How's Mrs. Onimous?" asked Charlie in a reverentially hushed voice.

  "Come and see!" Mrs. Silk looked surprisingly cheerful. Her blue eyes were twinkling and she had tied back her brown curls in a festive-looking ribbon.

  The boys followed Mrs. Silk around the counter, through the bead curtain that hung in front of the doorway, and into the cozy kitchen. Gabriel was cutting some bread for Mrs. Onimous, who had her arm in a sling, and there, sitting in an armchair by the stove, was Mr. Onimous.

  Charlie could hardly believe it. Such intense relief flooded through him, he couldn't speak. Nor could anyone else. They just let themselves be taken over by the widest, longest, happiest of smiles.

  A large white bandage covered Mr. Onimous's furry head, there was a butterfly bandage on his nose, and he had a black eye, but his broad smile revealed more of his small, sharp teeth than any of them had ever seen.

  Charlie ran over to the little man. "M... Mr.... Mr. Onimous," he stuttered.

  Mr. Onimous took Charlie's hand in his clawlike fingers. "There, there, Charlie. You look quite upset and, as you see, I'm right as rain."

  "We thought you were dead," Billy blurted out. "How did you get better, Mr. Onimous?"

  "Ah, how indeed. I had visitors, Billy." Mr. Onimous put his head to one side and chuckled.

  "Visitors?" Billy was still puzzled. "What sort of visitors?"

  "Furry ones!" Mrs. Onimous declared in a voice that said Billy should have known very well what sort of visitors had cured her husband.

  Mr. Onimous laughed out loud, and from beneath his chair there appeared three sleepy-looking cats.

  "The Flames!" Tancred exclaimed, sinking into a chair beside Mrs. Onimous.

  "The Flames!" Charlie dropped to his knees and began to stroke the three bright cats.

  Billy hesitated before settling himself on the other side of Mrs. Onimous. "Rembrandt's had a bad experience," he told her. "He might not want to play with the Flames just yet."

  "Why, Billy, they wouldn't hurt him," she said.

  "All the same." Billy gently touched his pocket and Rembrandt sighed in his sleep.

  Gabriel poured tea for everyone, and while Mrs. Silk drew trays of hot cakes from the oven, Mr. Onimous proceeded to tell the story of his miraculous recovery.

  "I was lying in this hospital ward, middle of the night, patients snuffling and sighing all around me. I didn't care. I thought I was done for. Almost gone.

  And worst of all was the feeling that someone wanted me gone. And then, through the grunts and groans and heavy breathings, I hear this sound. Patter, patter, light as fairy dust. Closer and closer, and then came the purrs; gentle, soft purrs, warm and lovely. And I began to think, I'm not gone. Not gone at all. In fact, I'm very much and altogether here. And what's more, I've got a job to do. As soon as that thought entered my poor old head, I felt one of the cats leap onto my bed, then another, and another. And then Aries brought his copper-colored face right up close to mine, and he purred. And orange Leo rubbed his cheek against my arm and purred, and Sagittarius nipped my toes and kneaded my feet and purred.

  "I tell you, those purrs went deep into my heart, boys. When the Flames heard my merry heartbeat and saw my eager open eyes, they jumped from the bed and waked away, as quiet and graceful as they'd come. And no one saw them, not a soul. I asked the night nurse in the morning. "Cats, Mr. Onimous," she said.

  There were no cats in this hospital, I can tell you. You were dreaming," she said, 'and now you've made a miraculous recovery."" Mr. Onimous smiled at everyone. "What d'you think of that?"

  Charlie wasn't really surprised. He'd seen the Flames bring someone back to life before. He'd also seen them nearly kill someone.

  "Mr. Onimous, I think it's great," said Tancred. "But we need to find out who did this to you."

  "And we need to get your cafe open again," Gabriel said forcibly.

  Without lifting his hand from Leo's orange coat, Charlie said, "We've got something to tell you, too, Mr. Onimous."

  Tancred said quickly, "Maybe not today."

  Mr. Onimous looked offended. "If there's something I should know, it had better be now," he said. "So, come on, Charlie, spill the beans."

  Mrs. Silk insisted they all have a snack first. "I've cooked so much," she said, handing out some plates.

  "Most of it's for the animals, what with everything that's been happening. I forgot the cafe was closed. It's all good stuff, though, anyone can eat it."

  "Which is best for rats?" asked Billy.

  Mrs. Silk pointed to some thin pinkish sticks, and Billy took a handful.

  Charlie sat at the table and took three cookies with not a hint of pink about them. Tancred c
hose a flat, nutty-looking cake, only to be told that Mrs. Silk had made it especially for Shetland ponies.

  Tancred neighed and said, "Haven't you seen my hooves?"

  Everyone laughed, but when the laughter had died, there was a long silence, the sort of silence that suggests it should be filled with a story. Charlie began with the troll in the Kettle Shop, and Tancred took over, telling it from his point of view.

  Gabriel and the Onimouses remained perfectly quiet, but Mrs. Silk became so agitated she couldn't keep still. She scraped the baking trays, washed the mixing bowls, put away the flour, and then started wiping the table. She had to give up when Tancred really got going, though. Because as he spoke, things started blowing around: wooden spoons, paper bags, cake cutters, nuts, oats, currants and dried maggots, salt and pepper, sugar and spices, all lifted into the air, collided, and sank. They drifted onto heads and shoulders, tables and chairs, and every other surface. So tidying and sweeping became a rather pointless exercise.

  As soon as Tancred's tale had ended, Mr. Onimous puffed out his cheeks and said, "Well, that was an epic battle. What a monster!"

  "His name is Oddthumb," Charlie said quietly. "I've met him."

  Obviously, another story was called for, so Charlie described his visit to Badlock. "And now Runner Bean's stuck," he finished. "And I can't seem to get back to rescue him."

  "Don't go near that painting, Charlie," Mr. Onimous warned. "You say it sucked you in. I don't like the sound of it at all."

  "Not at all," echoed his wife. "Have nothing to do with it. Lock the cellar door and throw away the key."

  "That's just what Mrs. Kettle said. But what about Runner Bean?" Billy said accusingly. "I thought you loved animals, Mrs. Onimous."

  "So I do, Billy Raven, so I do." Mrs. Onimous rose to her full six feet. "But I love you, too. And it would break my heart if you were dragged into Badlock and never came back again."

  For a moment, Billy looked quite dumbfounded. "I didn't know," he murmured.

  After another round of snacks, Mrs. Silk suggested they all leave the cafe so that Mr. and Mrs. Onimous could have a little nap. Tomorrow, she herself would start a campaign to get the cafe opened again.

  Gabriel was the last one to step outside. As he closed the cafe door behind him, he said thoughtfully, "Suppose the person who got the cafe shut down was the same person who caused the Onimouses' accident?"

  "Gabriel, I won't have you saying such things," said Mrs. Silk, frowning at her son.

  "Gabriel's got a point," Tancred ventured.

  "Councillor Loom closed the cafe because of complaints," argued Mrs. Silk. "Who on earth would want to harm those two dear people?"

  "Norton Cross rides a motorcycle," said Charlie, trying not to sound too serious.

  Their footsteps faltered, then stopped. They had reached High Street. Everyone looked at Charlie.

  "It's just a thought," he said.

  "Don't be ridiculous!" Mrs. Silk turned right and began to stride up High Street, calling, "Gabriel, Tancred, you'd better hurry if you want a ride."

  "Why's your mom so angry?" asked Charlie.

  "She gets angry when she's scared," Gabriel explained. "See you guys on Monday." He grabbed Tancred's arm and together they ran after Mrs. Silk.

  Charlie and Billy made their way back to Filbert Street.

  When Uncle Paton still had not returned by nightfall, Maisie told the boys he was probably asleep in his camper van, hundreds of miles away. "In the Highlands probably," she said cheerfully. "He is like a dog with a bone when he's on the trail of something. But at least it's only us three for supper. Grandma Bone says she won't be back till late."

  Before he went to bed, Charlie made sure the cellar door was locked. He went to see if Grandma Bone had returned the key to the blue jug. She had. But Charlie wasn't going to throw it away. He had to go back into Badlock, whatever the consequences.

  "When Claerwen is with me, I'll try again," Charlie told himself. He wasn't only thinking of the dog; he was thinking of his promise to Otus Yewbeam.

  The boys soon fell asleep, exhausted by the day's events. But a little before dawn, Billy woke up. He lay in the dark, thinking he had heard a sound in the house. What was it? The creak of a stair? The click of a door closing?

  Billy sat up. He found that he wasn't afraid. Something momentous had happened. A few hours ago, Mrs. Onimous had said she loved him. No one had ever told him that before. Not even the aunt he had lived with after his parents had died. It was such a new sensation, Billy didn't know how he felt about it. And then, gradually, it crept up on him: a profound, comforting happiness.

  And then came another sound. This time there was no mistaking it. Billy would have known Runner Bean's voice anywhere.

  "Billy! Help me! Billy! Where are you?"

  Without turning on the bedside light, Billy reached for his glasses. The streetlight outside cast a thin beam of light under the curtains. Billy quietly slipped out of bed and went to the door. Runner Bean continued to call him, and yet he suddenly felt reluctant to open the door. He looked at Charlie sleeping peacefully. Couldn't he hear the barking? Was it only meant for Billy?

  Mrs. Onimous said she loved me, Billy remembered. Why did he feel that if he went through the door, he would be throwing this wonderful gift away? For minutes, he stayed where he was, his hand on the doorknob, and then the dog's call became so insistent, so desperate, Billy couldn't ignore it.

  As he crept downstairs, a cold breeze whipped around his feet. He reached the hall. The cellar door key was in a jug on top of the cabinet; Billy knew exactly which one. He was about to go into the kitchen when he noticed that the cellar door was wide open. A tide of sound washed toward him: the moan of the wind and a deep melancholy howl.

  B ... I... L ... L ... Y?

  Billy had no choice. He must reach the voice. Dog or human? Whatever it was, it drew him toward the cellar and down the steps until his bare feet began to turn blue on the cold stone floor. From the painting Runner Bean gazed out at him. Howling and howling.

  "I'm coming," said Billy.

  The wind screamed into his ear, spinning him around and dragging him to the painting, closer and closer, until his cheek was pressed against the canvas, his fingers and toes already in Badlock.

  A moment later, when the wind had died, someone quietly closed the cellar door and locked it.

  CHAPTER 10

  MR. BITTERMOUSE

  Charlie woke up to the sound of barking. At first he couldn't tell where it came from. He looked at Billy's bed. It appeared to be empty. Charlie got up and looked closer. Yes, Billy was definitely not in bed. Putting that fact together with the barking gave Charlie a surge of hope. Had Billy found a way to rescue Runner Bean?

  Charlie stuffed his feet into his slippers and ran down to the cellar. The door wouldn't open. Strange. Had Billy locked himself in?

  "Billy?" he called. "Are you there?"

  The barking increased. Claws pattered up the wooden steps and scratched the cellar door.

  "Runner!" cried Charlie. "It is you, isn't it? You're out."

  He was answered by a series of joyful barks.

  "What's going on?" said a voice from the stairs.

  Charlie looked up to see Grandma Bone in her purple bathrobe and pink hairnet.

  "Runner Bean's gotten out of that painting!" Charlie couldn't disguise his excitement. "I don't know how it happened, unless Billy did it, but the cellar door's still locked so..."

  "Better unlock it, then." Grandma Bone tightened her bathrobe belt and went upstairs again. "And get that dog out of the house," she called. "It's Sunday morning and it'll wake the whole street."

  Charlie ran to the kitchen. A chair had been placed beside the cabinet. That was odd. He was certain he had pushed it back to the table after he'd replaced the key in the jug. Billy must have gotten it out, unlocked the cellar door, and then locked himself in. In which case the key would be in the cellar, not the jug. Charlie climbed onto the chair and t
ook down the jug. The key was still there.

  Thoroughly mystified, Charlie took the key and hurried back to the cellar. As soon as he opened the door, Runner Bean leaped out, knocked him down, and covered his face with wet kisses.

  "OK! OK!" Charlie grabbed the big dog around the neck and pulled himself back onto his feet. "Quiet!" he commanded. "Sit!"

  Runner Bean was an obedient dog. In spite of his excitement, he did as he was told.

  Charlie called into the cellar, "Billy! Billy, are you there?"

  There was no reply.

  Charlie went down to take a better look. The painting hadn't moved, but now not a breath of wind escaped it. Badlock appeared dull and bleak, a place of fiction, not somewhere just a step away.

  "Billy!" Charlie searched every corner: beneath old mattresses, behind wooden cabinets, old doors and suitcases, and bags of trash. There was no sign of Billy. Obviously, Runner Bean's escape had nothing to do with Billy. But in that case, where had Billy gone?

  First things first. Benjamin must have his dog.

  While Runner Bean waited patiently, Charlie ran upstairs, dressed hurriedly, and took the big dog across the road to number twelve.

  In all his life Charlie had never seen anyone as happy as Benjamin when he set eyes on Runner Bean. The noise from both of them was enough to wake the dead, let alone every household in Filbert Street. The squeals and barks of joy brought Mr. and Mrs. Brown tumbling out of bed and down the stairs.

  A breakfast of sausages, eggs, and broccoli was quickly served up, and Runner Bean was given a bone almost as big as his own leg.

  Charlie was hungry, but before he was halfway through the meal, he suddenly stood up. "The thing is," he explained, "Billy Raven's gone missing, and I ought to go and look for him."

  "Missing?" Mr. and Mrs. Brown laid down their knives and forks. Missing persons were right up their alley. Not one of their cases of missing persons had remained unsolved.

  "If you can't find Billy, come straight back to us," said Mrs. Brown.

  "Will do. Thanks, Mrs. Brown." Charlie ran back to number nine.

  Maisie was up and another fine breakfast awaited Charlie: sausages, eggs, and mushrooms.