‘Vot is ziss? Get off!’ spluttered Klench. Coriander, Vinnie and Chester jumped back to make room for his rage. He wrenched the ankle ring, yanked the chain, went pink–red–purple in the face. ‘How dare you? Vot iss happenink? Let me go, schnap schnap!’
Abbie dodged past the fuming football and joined the others in the doorway, beyond the reach of the ankle chain. Winnie and Minnie had come to watch. Winnie was jumping up and down and clapping. Minnie turned round, stuck out her bottom and produced a glittering arc that landed on Klench’s trousers.
‘Eeuuk!’ he screamed, slapping at the wee.
Vinnie dug a finger into his nose and flicked the gleaming fruit at Klench’s face.
‘Uueek!’ he screeched, smacking at his cheek.
‘Bye bye, Dr Klench,’ said Coriander. She waved from the doorway. ‘Thanks for having me, but I really should be getting back.’
It wasn’t big and it wasn’t clever. But Abbie couldn’t help sticking out her tongue at the wobbling blob.
‘You vill pay for ziss!’ shrieked Klench. Chester was already unlocking the front of the cage with Coriander’s keys.
Coriander turned to the apes. ‘I’m sorry, darlings,’ she said softly, ‘I’ll come back to help you, I promise.’ There was a hairy group hug. Minnie tried to jump onto her back. Coriander passed her gently back to Winnie and locked them in the cage. They reached out their hands. She grasped them in turn. Tears glistened on her cheeks.
‘It’s ten past eight,’ whispered Abbie. ‘Five minutes till the keepers bring breakfast. We’ve got to go.’ Chester jumped into her jacket pocket. They ran out of the ape house.
Outside, Coriander put a finger to her lips. She pointed up into a tree. Abbie nodded. Klench must have already switched on the microphones for the day.
‘Stay down,’ mouthed Coriander. ‘Zookeepers.’ Abbie crept along the path behind her, huddling close to the bushes. When they reached the seal pool they dived behind the tree where Charlie Big Ears had crouched yesterday.
‘Now what?’ mouthed Abbie. They could see the zoo exit gate. It was next to the entrance hut and gate only ten metres away. But it was ten metres of open ground.
Coriander squeezed Abbie’s shoulder. A tall thin zookeeper was striding to the seal pool. Abbie squashed down even lower.
He put a bucket on the wall and started throwing fish into the water. ‘Brekkie time, me beauties!’
Abbie heard the crash of water and saw the seals’ shiny heads as they jumped for their meal. Her stomach rumbled. ‘Shuddup,’ she scolded it silently.
It was a big breakfast. Fish after fish gleamed out of that bucket. At last the keeper finished. He sauntered off, swinging the empty bucket. Abbie looked at her watch. Twenty past eight. Oh no. Had Klench been found?
Her question was answered by furious footsteps. Abbie looked desperately at the wheelie bin on the path, her stinky shelter of yesterday. But it would only fit one person – and anyway, it was too late. Dr Klench was by the seal pool, barking at three zookeepers. Abbie recognised Charlie and Dolores. The other one was a young man with a twitchy mouth who kept shifting from one foot to the other as if he needed the loo.
‘Ze gates stay closed,’ ordered Klench, ‘until ve find zem. Dolores, go zat way.’ He pointed left. ‘Jake, over zere,’ he pointed right. ‘Charlie, you guard exit. I go and set up cameras schnap schnap. But first I change my vee vee trouserss. Ass Mummy vould say,’ he tapped the side of his head, ‘ven you stink you cannot sink.’ He turned round, clicked his heels and marched back towards the ape house. The keepers peeled off to search.
Coriander stood up.
‘What you doing?’ mouthed Abbie, trying to pull her down.
‘Charlie. He’s our only hope.’
Charlie nearly tugged an ear off when he saw them. ‘Can’t help,’ he mouthed. ‘Gate locked.’
Abbie looked over at the exit gate. Tall and solid. Like the entrance gate next to it through which she’d come yesterday. How had that opened? Think Abbie, think.
Cigarette lady. Buzzer in the entrance hut.
They needed to get to that buzzer.
But the entrance hut was on the other side of the barred gate. The gate with gaps between the bars … Yes!
‘Chester!’ she hissed.
As if waiting for the command, he leapt out of her pocket and flew between two bars of the gate. He landed on the window of the hut. Then he wormed underneath, through the gap for pushing tickets through. Once inside he must have found the button immediately because the entrance gate began to open slowly. Chester shot out again, sailed through the gate and landed on Abbie’s shoulder.
‘Bye Charlie!’ Coriander blew him a kiss and ran out. Abbie followed. The last thing she saw before the gate clanged shut was Charlie staring open-mouthed at her hairy shoulder and pulling on his earlobes till they reached his jaw.
***
Matt looked up from his cornflakes. ‘Feeling better today, darling?
‘Yes thanks, Dad.’ Perdita poured milk onto the table. It dribbled over the edge.
‘Rocketing rubies, watch out!’ Dirk shouted, sliding his red shoes out of the way.
‘Sorry Uncle.’ Perdita ran for a cloth.
‘Bit of a butterfingers this morning, aren’t we Perdie?’ Aunt Melliflua dabbed honey from her mouth with a serviette.
Matt frowned. What was up with Perdita? He caught her eye as she wiped the table. She smiled back. Maybe nothing. Maybe he was the distracted one. Watching that super-strong spider last night was enough to distract anyone.
‘Would you like to ask Abbie round today, Perdie?’ he said. That would keep her busy while he perfected the potion.
‘I – I’ve already tried to phone her, Dad. But I can’t get through.’ Perdita reached for a piece of toast. A cup smashed onto the floor.
***
‘I wonder what time I should go and collect Abbie,’ said Mum, nibbling a Ryvita.
‘Mmm?’ Dad was on page seventy-eight of a book called Noble Nicknames. ‘So that’s why Ethelred was called The Unready. It’s from “Unraed”, which is Anglo Saxon for “can’t decide”. ’
‘I can’t decide,’ said Mum, licking cottage cheese off her finger, ‘if it’s better to go early, so she doesn’t outstay her welcome. Or later, so it doesn’t look as if we’re dragging her away. Maybe I should give them a ring.’
‘Maybe you should give them a ring,’ suggested Dad. ‘Mmm, I guess Alfred must have been Great to keep those Vikings out.’
15 - Angry origami
‘Two singles for Garton, please.’ Abbie pushed the coins towards the bus driver.
‘Hello again, love.’ The driver’s fringe went up – or did his face go down? ‘Spent the night at the zoo, did we?’ Abbie blinked. But he was grinning.
‘Oh.’ She grinned back. ‘Yeah, sure.’
Coriander climbed onto the bus behind her. There were three other passengers sitting near the front. Abbie led the way to the back. When they’d sat down Chester crawled out of her pocket and perched on her knee.
Coriander squeezed Abbie’s hand. ‘I can’t believe I’m going home! All thanks to you. I’ve never been so grateful in all my life. Not even the time a fisherman pulled me from the jaws of a shaggy-fin shark.’
Abbie blushed. ‘It was nothing.’
‘Nothing my follicles! Without you I’d still be in chains. My dear, with your brains and bravery, I’d take you on my travels any day.’ Coriander sighed. ‘Not that I’ll be doing much travelling now.’
‘Why not?’ Abbie was horrified. Coriander without adventures would be like Superman without pants.
Coriander unbuttoned her green overall. Underneath she had on pyjamas patterned with sunflowers. No, thought Abbie, has she really been wearing those ever since she was kidnapped?
‘I’ve been wearing these ever since I was kidnapped,’ Coriander said. ‘That’s a long time in pyjamas. And a long time to think about what a useless mum I’ve been.’
&nb
sp; ‘No!’ Abbie bounced indignantly in her seat. Chester fell onto the floor. He wriggled back up. A piece of chewing gum was stuck to his curls.
‘You’re the best mum ever,’ said Abbie. ‘All that exploring and having adventures. I wish you were mine.’
Coriander patted her knee. ‘Thank you, dear. But no you don’t. Imagine a mum who’s hardly ever there to brush your hair …’
Or yank your tangles, thought Abbie.
‘… or buy you socks …’
Or shout at you for losing them.
‘… or laugh at your jokes …’
Or never get them.
‘… or wash your knickers, or empty the rubbish.’
OK. Point made.
‘Imagine a mum who leaves her sister to do all those things, so she can go off gallivanting.’
Except that your sister doesn’t do any of those things, thought Abbie. What she said, though, was, ‘My mum does that stuff all the time. It’s boring.’
‘It doesn’t have to be,’ said Coriander. ‘You know what? I’ve had so many adventures in my life. But the biggest one ever is now. Going home. Especially now I know that they want me back. And that Matt’s forgiven me.’
Abbie looked at her shyly. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what did you argue about the night before you left?’
Coriander lifted Chester onto her lap. She picked off the chewing gum. He arched as a grey curl came out with it. At last she looked up. ‘Well,’ she said slowly, ‘Matt had an idea for making money. So that we could build the museum into the most wonderful place – a world centre for all things hairy. It’s always been my dream. So it was Matt’s dream too. That’s the sort of man he is.’ Coriander’s chins began to wobble. Abbie noticed what a great team they made, the second chin supporting the first like a kind cushion.
‘The trouble was,’ Coriander went on, ‘Matt’s idea wasn’t a good one. In fact it was terrible – and dangerous. I couldn’t agree with it. And he couldn’t agree with me.’ She sighed. ‘But it’s history now. Let’s just forget it. Everything’s going to be wonderful.’
Abbie hoped Coriander was right. That they’d go home to open arms and simple explanations. Because the alternative was doing her head in. If there was any funny business, how on earth would Coriander’s return go down?
She sighed. There was nothing she could do about it now. Better just sit tight and think happy thoughts. And there was one sure way to do that. ‘Chocky?’ From her bag Abbie fished out the two King Size Mars Bars they’d bought at a corner shop before catching the bus.
Coriander gobbled hers in four bites. ‘Divine. I could eat that all over again.’ Chester jumped up and wiped chocolate from her mouth.
Abbie was impressed. ‘My mum would freak if she knew this was my breakfast. She’d go on about spots and fillings and getting fat.’
‘Well, I shall tell her how you earned your treat, freeing me from that wicked man.’
‘No, you mustn’t! She doesn’t know anything about this trip. She thinks I’ve spent the night at Perdita’s.’
Coriander promised to keep quiet about the rescue, even though she couldn’t quite see why. ‘Your mum would be so proud of you.’
Abbie snorted. ‘My mum’s only proud of me when I tidy my bedroom or write thank you letters. If she heard I’d spent the night in the zoo she’d kill me. Or worse,’ she added darkly. ‘Nope. She must never know.’
And she never would. Abbie would make sure of that. She looked at her watch. Nine fifteen. They’d be back at the museum by eleven. She’d phone home from there. Dad would come and pick her up and she’d tell the Rotten Lot all about her evening of listening to music and her morning making flapjacks with Perdita.
Coriander gazed out of the window. ‘Haven’t seen a lamp-post for nearly three months,’ she murmured dreamily. ‘Or a traffic light. And right now they’re more exciting than a ride on a rhino or an ocean safari.’
For the rest of the journey Abbie listened enthralled to her travellers’ tales. The rat-grey roads of England melted into orange outback as Coriander dug up the hairy tooth of the Australian Tickler, a toad that tickles flies to death in its jaws. Fields of wheat became snow as she hacked through Siberia to find the foot of a woolly mammoth. And pylons turned into pyramids as Coriander pulled three strands from the mummified armpit of the Pharaoh Cheops.
When she’d finished plaiting the fur of a platypus, Coriander got up from the seat. ‘I’m going to stand by the door.’
‘But we’re at least three stops away,’ said Abbie.
‘I can’t keep still.’ When the bus finally drew up Abbie had to grab Coriander’s arm to stop her jumping off while it was still moving.
Coriander ran down the lane that led to the Hair Museum. She waved at birds and sniffed the tiny white flowers that sprinkled the hedges. ‘One thing about prison,’ she called over her shoulder, ‘you don’t half notice things when you get out.’
Abbie followed with Chester on her shoulder. Along a bit, round the corner, over the gate and –
There were Perdita and Matt haring across the field. There were Melliflua and Dirk at the front door of the museum. And there – ohno – were Mum and Dad. Standing with folded arms and folded faces like angry origami. And there too – ohgiveusabreak – was Ollie, jumping and waving.
The hugs, the tears, the shrieks. The laughter, the kisses, the sobs. Abbie watched as the Platts wove into each other: the big autumn lady with her wild red hair, the skinny man with the streaming face and the crazy cavorting girl.
Abbie walked slowly across the field. Chester decided to keep a low profile with Dirk and Melliflua about, and sank into her pocket. Perdita and Matt, either side of Coriander, held out their arms to Abbie.
‘Our heroine!’ yelled Perdita.
‘Our saviour!’ cried Matt.
They danced in a circle. Then Matt danced with Coriander and Perdita danced with Abbie. Then Coriander danced with Perdita and Matt danced with Abbie. Then they all danced to the museum door.
‘Hello Mum,’ said Abbie. Mum’s face was streaked with mascara. Her left hand flew to Bob. He looked very upset, with bits of him flying in all directions.
‘Hello Dad.’ He looked all pink and crumpled.
‘Hello Abigail,’ they said together, icily.
Ollie threw himself against Abbie.
Aunt Melliflua poured into Coriander’s arms. ‘Corrie!’ she gasped. ‘I can’t believe it. You’re alive! We thought – we thought – didn’t we, Dirkie?’
Uncle Dirk strode forward and clapped Coriander on the shoulder. ‘Certainly did, old girl. Wits’ end and all.’ He took out a grey hanky from his grey suit pocket and blew his nose loudly.
Abbie stared at them. She’d been wrong. Fernando had lied. Her head swam. Why had he done it? How could Perdita forgive her for believing him? And why in the blazes were the Rotten Lot here?
‘I’m sorry.’ Perdita grabbed Abbie’s hand. ‘I had to tell them. I was so worried about you. I couldn’t get through on your mobile. Then your mum called this morning, and Auntie Mell got to the phone first.’
Melliflua let go of her sister. ‘That’s right, sweetie. And when I said you weren’t here, your poor mother …’
‘Had a fit!’ said Mum. ‘I didn’t know what had happened to you! So we came round at once. And Perdita told us you’d –’
‘Spent the night at the zoo!’ cried Dad. ‘Then the whole story came out, about –’
‘How you’d gone missing,’ said Matt, with his arms round Coriander. ‘And how you hadn’t contacted us. How we had no clue if you were alive or dead.’ Abbie noticed that his Cs had come back with his wife.
‘But my letters?’ Coriander looked from Matt to Melliflua.
‘Letters?’ Matt frowned.
Melliflua looked bewildered. ‘What letters? Look, darling, why don’t you explain everything over a glass of champagne? This calls for a celebration.’
As they trooped through the front doo
r, Mum hissed to Abbie, ‘You’re in big trouble, my girl. I don’t care how many missing mothers you find – you lied to us!’
Ollie squeezed Abbie’s hand. ‘I’m glad you’re back,’ he said.
Melliflua led the way upstairs. ‘Bit of a hike to the living area, I’m afraid. We’ll pop the cork up there.’
On the first landing Abbie felt Chester slip out of her pocket. He tickled her wrist then slid down her leg and away downstairs. She couldn’t help feeling relieved. Mum had enough weirdness on her plate right now without having to meet a patch of heroic chest hair.
On the second landing Matt, who hadn’t let go of Coriander’s hand, stopped. ‘I’ll be up in a minute,’ he said, kissing her. ‘I’ve got something to show you.’ Smiling hugely he took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door to Hair Science.
On the third landing Uncle Dirk took something out of his pocket.
Abbie’s school report said she was a quick learner. But it wasn’t until Dad yelled, ‘What the – ?’ that she realised what she was looking at.
It wasn’t big. But it was very shiny. And, with a sneer that spanned his cheekbones, Dirk looked very happy to be holding it.
Melliflua opened the door to Rare Hair. ‘Inside,’ she hissed.
Dirk motioned everyone in with the gun. Then he took out a second one from his other pocket. ‘Lock ’em in here,’ he snarled, giving it to Melliflua. And with that, his pointy red shoes pattered downstairs.
***
Matt looked at the spider scuttling round the shoebox. One last test before he took it upstairs to show everyone. Better make sure he’d got it right. What a welcome home present for Coriander!
Matt took a glass paperweight out of his drawer. It was twice the size of the spider. He held the creature’s body gently between his finger and thumb. He lowered the paperweight onto its back. Then he let go. The paperweight scuttled round the shoebox. ‘Yes!’ Matt punched the air.
The door opened behind him. ‘How you doing, old fruit?’ came Dirk’s gravelly voice.
‘Fantastic!’ said Matt. ‘Look at this.’
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