“I lived with my son and his wife, but they will be moving as well soon. They didn’t want me to go with them to their new house so my son bought me this cottage,” Wilfred said.
Wilfred dunked a biscuit in his tea.
“Your son must be a very nice person, Mr... eh, Mr...” said Petronella, trying to get Wilfred’s family name.
“Ormerod. My name’s Wilfred Ormerod.”
By now Petronella’s jaw had dropped. There she sat with her mouth wide open. Not a pretty sight. As soon as she realised how stupid she must have looked, gaping like that, she shook her head three times then closed her mouth.
“Sorry, but are you any relation of Judge Ormerod’s?”
“Yes, that’s right. I am his father. You see, he is selling his old house because he’ll be moving into the Castle on the hill. Duke Merrick’s Castle. My son will be the next Duke of Westshire. He’s got it all planned,” Wilfred said.
“Has he really? Now wouldn’t it be a pity if someone spoiled his plans?” she said.
“Oh, yes. A great pity. If my son wants something, he gets it. He’s just like his mother...”
“Sometimes sons are just like their mothers,” Petronella said, just to say something. She didn’t know anything about this, though.
“Yes,” Wilfred answered. “She ran away, you know. She just upped and went leaving me to bring up my son on my own. Never heard of her since...”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Petronella said. “It must have been difficult for you... Now, just to get back to Betty. Do you know anything about her disappearance?”
“No, I’ve no idea. These two youngsters came here looking for Adrian Simnel and the next thing I know, one of them’s lost and the other was looking for her...”
Petronella believed him. She didn’t think that this gentle old codger could be mixed up in kidnapping children. No. It was his son who had planted his father in this house for some reason. There was no need to tell Wilfred about this. She was now friendly with him and wanted to keep it that way.
“Wilfred, do you mind if we join Percy in the garden?”
“Of course not. After you,” Wilfred said.
“It’s quite wild, isn’t it?” Petronella said, looking at the untidy garden.
“It was like this when I came to live here. At my age my knees don’t bend anymore. I can’t do any gardening.”
Petronella looked at the garden full of tall weeds, brambles and thick undergrowth.
She called out to Percy. But no reply came. She called out again. No answer. No Percy.
“Where could he have got to?” Wilfred said.
“This is so strange,” Petronella replied, “Percy wouldn’t go off without me, without saying anything...”
“Youngsters, these days. In my days, when I was a boy, we had manners...”
“No, no,” Petronella said. “He’s a nice boy, he’s got to be here somewhere. Can I take a look?”
“Of course you can,” he said.
But Petronella did not find Percy. She hadn’t looked properly behind the giant mushroom where there was an entrance to a tunnel, down which Percy had disappeared. Petronella thought he must have gone back to Charis Cottage without telling her. Not like him at all to do that.
CHAPTER 16
Petronella went home to her sweet husband. She told him about Wilfred. As Mayor of Fort Willow, Edmundus knew Judge Ormerod’s father, but he didn’t know he’d moved.
“That Wilfred is a nice man,” Edmundus said.
For two days Petronella was quite happy to tend to her garden and her chickens. While she was checking her runner beans and prize pumpkin Mrs Sarad came by and complimented Petronella on her pumpkin.
“I’m going to display it at the local vegetable show. You never know, I might win the biggest pumpkin prize,” Petronella said.
“Have you heard the latest, Petronella?”
“I’ve been busy in my house and garden lately and haven’t had time to go to the village. What’s the latest news, then?”
“Well,” Mrs Sarad began, “that Percy, you know the one from Charis Cottage, he’s missing and his family are beside themselves with worry. I feel so sorry for them. The boy hasn’t been back for two nights.”
“Oh, my God! So Percy didn’t go back home!” Petronella said.
“What do you mean, Petronella? Back home from where?” Mrs Sarad asked.
“From Wilfred’s garden,” Petronella said.
Mrs Sarad had always found Petronella odd.
“Must be getting on my way. Let’s hope they find him soon.” With that, Mrs Sarad left.
Petronella stopped work and set off to Wilfred’s house again.
“I must look properly,” she muttered under her breath.
When she got there, Wilfred opened the door immediately. He knew her now. He saw she was worried.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you again, Wilfred. But Percy didn’t go back home. They don’t know where he is! I saw him here last. Do you mind if I take another look in your garden?”
“Well, I’m getting used to all this coming and going. I suppose you’d better go and look. I’m sorry to hear he’s missing,” Wilfred said.
She stepped into the high growth wading to the bottom of the garden, tearing her dress on the brambles. She went to the giant mushroom in the right-hand corner of the garden. She had never seen a mushroom this big anywhere. It was huge about the same height as Edmundus, and he was six feet tall!
How strange. She moved closer to it. Darkness enveloped her. She couldn’t see very well and was squinting to get a better look. She moved closer and saw something moving. Something dark. A creature of some sort. It couldn’t be Percy. It had to be a cat or a squirrel. No, no, much too big. It was some kind of animal she had never seen before. It was about the size of a monkey. No sooner had she called out again when the creature quickly tiptoed away from her and disappeared. Petronella was truly frightened. Not for herself, but for Percy. Had this nasty black animal taken Percy away? For Percy’s sake, she had to find out.
She moved right up near to the mushroom until she was standing underneath it. Drops of yellow liquid seeped through the mushroom and dripped down onto Petronella’s head and clothes. The yellow stains shone brightly on her black hat and dress and were clearly visible in the darkness. She had to get round to the other side of the mushroom where she had seen the animal disappear. As she put her foot down, it sank into the yellow mire, right down to her knee. She tugged her foot back out again. Luckily, she hadn’t trod heavily round the mushroom otherwise she would have been buried alive by now in that soft lemon jelly.
“Petronella! Petronella!” she could hear Wilfred calling her.
No turning back. She had to get to the animal behind that mushroom. Maybe she could try craning her neck round to the other side. She would hold on to the stem by digging her nails into the mushroom’s soft flesh. The ground round this side was not as soft. She trod carefully while slowly going round until she was standing in total darkness.
She let go of the mushroom, turned round, held her arms out straight in front of her and flapped about to see if there was anything standing close to her. She moved forward a little more and her right hand hit against something. What was it? She tried to touch it again. But couldn’t feel anything this time. All of a sudden her right arm was in a tight grip. So tight that it hurt. Petronella let out a cry. The cry was answered by a high-pitched shriek. A sound that no animal Petronella knew of could make.
“What are you?” she shouted out.
No answer came. But, whatever was holding her arm was now pulling her along. Petronella thought that her arm would come out of its socket. It hurt badly. Her full body weight was being dragged along by something squeezing her arm like a wrench.
Suddenly, the grip loosened. It was a relief, but Petronella found herself in a closed-in space. To find out if she was on her own, she hit out with her arms in all directions. There was earth all around her, above, bel
ow, left, right and behind her. She was in some kind of hole in the ground. A prison. No, it was the beginning of a tunnel. There was empty space in front of her.
She had little choice: either to stay put where she was, or to walk on straight ahead. Treading carefully she went on and on. She was definitely alone.
Wilfred called out to Petronella again and looked into the distance and to the quiet and dark forest beyond. He couldn’t see Petronella anywhere, let alone Percy. She must have gone home without saying anything, he thought.
So there was Petronella complaining about Percy leaving without saying anything and now she had done the same thing. She must have left through a hole in the fence and over the fields. ‘There’s no accounting for folk,’ he thought.
Back he went to his cosy kitchen, his mug of tea and his biscuit tin. It was time to dunk a few more biscuits.
CHAPTER 17
Soloman was clutching the map Judge Ormerod had given him. As leader of the group, Adrian and Henry followed him and listened to his directions. But they didn’t venture into the forest, though the heavy gates of the Janjilon Education Centre were wide open. Instead, Soloman led Adrian and Henry to the dark lake where Betty had disappeared.
“We need to start looking here. It’s not the area Judge Ormerod marked on the map, but I’m more interested in finding Betty than the Golden Shield. She was so brave,” Soloman said.
“Why are you using the past to talk about her?” Adrian asked. “Are you so sure she’s not alive?”
“Of course,” Henry said. “We saw it with our own eyes. She drowned and there’s no way we’ll find her body in these murky waters.”
“That might be so. But I’m not giving up until we have found her body. I need to see that with my own eyes. We owe it to her to find her body. We can’t just leave her in there,” Soloman said.
“So, what are we going to do? We need to get a boat,” said Adrian.
There was an orange boat moored on the other side of the lake. The one that belonged to Judge Ormerod. They walked around to it and untied the rope that fastened it to a big tree-trunk. Adrian and Henry had an oar each but rowing in this slimy water was hard work. When they were in the middle of the lake, they realised that it was no good. They wouldn’t find Betty by staying on the surface. One of them would have to go down and see.
“I’ll go,” Soloman said.
“You can’t. You’ll drown. All your fur will get wet, you’ll be so heavy that you’ll sink. There’s no point in you losing your life to find her body. There’s no sense in that,” Adrian said.
Soloman knew that Adrian was right. They had to be sensible about it. But Soloman had another idea.
“Why don’t I put my head in the water? I can go in as far as my waist while you two hold on to my legs. I’ll wave my arm when I need to be pulled up.”
Adrian and Henry looked at each other. They thought they could try that. What was the harm? They would pull their friend back up. Though they didn’t think that Soloman would see anything, they agreed. At least Soloman would then be happy that he had tried.
“Here goes,” Soloman said. “Hold on tight to my legs!”
Adrian and Henry grabbed a leg each. And Soloman was dipped into the water head down. Just like when the weird sisters had punished him, he felt the dirty water seep into his nose and ears. He kept his mouth shut tightly and held his breath. All he could see in the darkness were dirty little particles floating around, and a few small black fish. One of them bit him on the cheek.
He felt sick, his head felt light and he thought he was about to die. He tried to lift his arm to signal to his friends to pull him out. But he couldn’t. The fur on his arms was heavy with the jelly water and it didn’t help that Adrian and Henry were now holding Soloman straight down into the water, rather than at an angle. No, he couldn’t lift his arms.
So Soloman, to signal to them by moving his legs. Maybe Adrian and Henry would understand. They didn’t. They thought Soloman wanted to be lowered so that he could look deeper down.
Henry said to Adrian: “Let go a little. Now hold on tight! Don’t let him go. We’re his friends we must protect him.”
“No, I won’t,” Adrian answered. “But he is putting up a good fight. And he’s strong. Still, there are two of us and we won’t let him go.”
“Too sure, we won’t,” Henry answered.
Soloman was wriggling so hard that the filthy water splashed onto them. Adrian’s arms were wet and the slime was slippery. Soloman’s leg slipped through Adrian’s hands. The lost leg kept kicking. There was no way Adrian could catch it. So Adrian stood close to Henry and helped him to cling on to Soloman’s other leg. Both Janjilons were covered in slime – from head to toe. They stood closer to the edge of the boat as they were losing grip of Soloman.
With one last furious kick, Soloman plopped down into the water. To catch Soloman, Adrian and Henry leaned forward. The other side of the boat lifted as the weight of the two Janjilons was too much and the boat toppled over. They tried to grab hold of Soloman again – but, by now, he wasn’t answering. And he was totally wet, slippery and heavy. The two couldn’t lift him out. Instead, Janjilon Adrian and Janjilon Henry fell into the water with an enormous splash.
Soon the waters were as still as before. The three of them were lost in the muddy slime of this dark lake. All that could be seen on the surface was an overturned boat, two oars and a floating map.
CHAPTER 18
Wilfred was still sitting at his kitchen table, sorting out his biscuit tin, when yet another knock came on the door. He had had enough of visitors, so would send this one off packing as soon as possible. But to his great surprise, it was his son: Judge Ormerod – the man himself.
“Father,” he shouted through the letter-box, “Father, let me in, it’s me.”
“What are you doing here, lad,” Wilfred said, as he opened the front door. “I thought you were busy looking for the Golden Shield, couldn’t spare a minute to come and see your old poor dad. I’ve not seen you in ages.”
The grandfather clock struck 12 – dong, dong, dong...The chimes so loud that Wilfred couldn’t hear what his son was saying. Judge Ormerod was so anxious for it to stop that he kicked the clock hard, making a hole in the wood. The stirrup on his boot span round fast. But the clock went on chiming. At the twelfth dong, the clock was thankfully quiet.
“I said has anyone been here,” Judge Ormerod shouted at the top of his voice.
“You needn’t shout, son. I can hear you alright,” Wilfred said.
“Father, you know I’m busy, but for the love of you I have made time to see you, even though there are other important things I should be doing right now.”
“Well, come into the kitchen, son, and have a mug of tea.”
“Father, I have no time for tea. This is only a short visit to see if you are all right and to ask if anyone has come to see you here.”
“Oh, I’ve had lots of visits. First, from a boy and a girl, brother and sister, I think. Yes, the brother’s name was Jack and the girl’s name was Hatty.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t Betty?” Judge Ormerod asked.
“Oh, yes: that sounds more like it – yes, Betty. A bright spark that one, I remember alright.”
‘Who could forget that irritating, irritating girl, so full of herself, always moving around and talking...’ Judge Ormerod thought. Yes, he knew her, only too well. She was safe enough, with the bottom of the lake as her bed...
“Then, this woman and a boy came here looking for them,” Wilfred went on. “They came here looking for Jack and Jill...”
“It’s Betty, father. Betty, not Jill.”
“That’s right,” Wilfred said, “Billy and Betty...”
“No, Father, it’s Jack and Betty...”
“Oh, well, whatever. Anyway, this woman and boy came looking for this brother and sister.”
“What were their names?” Judge Ormerod asked.
“Jack and Betty,” Wilfred replied
.
“No, NOT the brother and sister, I want to know the names of the woman and boy who came looking for them.”
“Oh, I see,” said Wilfred. “Let me think. Their names are... I think the boy’s name was Darcy. Yes, that’s it. Darcy.”
“And the woman’s name?” the Judge asked.
“Citronella.”
“So what happened to Darcy and Citronella, then?”
“Darcy went into the garden while Citronella was having a mug of tea with me here in the kitchen. Then she went out, called him and they went home. Or maybe she went home without him. I can’t remember now. I thought Citronella went to the bottom of the garden to look for Darcy but she must have got past me somehow, when I wasn’t looking, and she went home.”
“Have you been to the bottom of the garden yourself?” his son asked.
“No, I can’t be bothered to wade through all those weeds and brambles. I’ve scratched myself trying to get past the first lot, without going through any more. When are you going to get a gardener to come round, son?”
“Oh, we’ll see. Gardeners are difficult to come by,” Judge Ormerod lied. He didn’t want his father finding out there was a tunnel from the bottom of his garden straight through to the Janjilon Education Centre.
So Betty had fallen into his trap, but these other two busy bodies, Citronella and Darcy, where were they? He had to find out who they were and what had happened to them. They sounded dangerous. And he wasn’t having any busy bodies ruining his plans of becoming the most powerful man in Westshire.
“What did you and Citronella talk about while you were having tea?” the Judge asked.
“Now, son, you know I hardly remember what I had for breakfast leave alone what I say to people.”
“Come on, try to remember.”
“Why is it so important to you? Does it matter what I said?”
“Yes, it does, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking, would I?” Judge Ormerod was getting impatient with his old father.
“We talked about the weather,” Wilfred invented, because he couldn’t for the life of him remember what they had talked about. “Yes, we were saying that it’s been awful weather.”
Petronella and the Janjilons Page 7
