Sam picked up the first clown and undid the knots.
‘Hallo,’ he said in a squeaky voice, ‘I’m a magic clown.’
‘And I’m a pear shaped princess,’ said Chloe in a light voice. ‘I’m lost, I’m lost, I’m lost. Can you tell me the way home?’
‘Follow me, Princess.’
Sam danced the puppet all-round the attic, while Chloe followed, skipping her princess over the old luggage and packing cases and back to the window. Sam went down into the dim reaches under the eaves and let his clown slump on the floor. They laughed together at their game. ‘Second childhood,’ said Sam.
Then something caught Chloe’s eye and she opened the window, leaning into its patch of sunlight. When at last she turned round her expression had changed.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing. I’m going down.’
‘What for?’
‘There are things you simply don’t understand, Sam Penfold. All this prancing about – it’s crazy. We’re not children anymore.’
‘It was just a bit of fun. In short supply these days.’
Chloe made a rush for the door. ‘Nimbus is down there waiting for me. I have to get —’
‘You’re not going!’ Sam pulled her back but she struggled free.
‘Get out of my way, Sam. You don’t understand. You go and play football or something. That’s just about your limit.’ She ran back to the door and Sam spoke quickly. ‘Don’t go, Chloe. You can’t trust Nimbus. You’re a puppet in his hands. Get it? He’s caught up!’
‘Caught up!’ she mocked. ‘All right, maybe I’m caught up. Listen, Sam, there’s lots of ways of looking at things. There are people in this world who haven’t had the privilege of learning to read or write. What’s wrong with my helping them?’
‘I suppose you’re referring to that geriatric hippy who’s old enough to be your father. Tell me, Chloe, what’s going on between you and him?’
Chloe turned the door handle. ‘Okay then, since you ask for it, I’ll tell you what’s happening. Rosie was my age when she was killed by Uncle George. The truth is Nimbus is in grief. Now Gina’s left with the baby. How do you think he feels about that? He needs help. He needs me. He’s about the only person who does.’
‘Pull the other one,’ said Sam. ‘He needs you for what he can get out of you.’
Chloe pointed her finger. ‘So you’re on Aidan’s side.’
‘I’m on your side, Chloe, though I can’t think why.’
‘Nor can I,’ she said as she went out.
Sam went over to the window and waited for Chloe to come into sight. Below him, the roof sloped down with tiles missing and ivy poking up and over the edges like green fingers. He could see Bones Wood rising up, the place where Aidan was cutting branches to make his shafts of light, so he could begin to build his chapel. And there was Nimbus’s cottage, high on the slope, at the edge of the valley, tiny as a toy house. Soon Chloe would be going inside.
He turned away. This attic is full of secrets, he thought, as he came across a pile of odd things; an old brown silk blouse, a dusty, glass sweet jar, full of silver sand, piles of old books. Then, as he was unknotting the puppets’ strings and putting them back into the box, he found a tiny notebook, hidden between the soft sheets of tissue paper. At least this would take his mind off Chloe.
‘EMILY PENFOLD 1942’ he read with interest. ‘RIDDLES FOR REFUGEES.’
Like me, he thought, that’s just how I feel; a refugee from London.
The riddles were written carefully, in a fine copperplate.
1) Where the shadow of the sun
Falls to East the hunt is on.
2) Unless beneath the stone
the clue is found
Dark will rebound.
Mad as Chloe, he thought. He put the puppets and the notebook back in the box and went downstairs. Now he would have to invent something else to stop himself from wanting to strangle Chloe. Leela? But she was busy with the housework, going round the mansion with a feather duster. Tyler might be the answer – Tyler, with his dog Judy and his cow Daisy.
It was better in the open air. The sun splashed across the path and by the time he reached Leela’s cottage, he almost felt normal. Judy was peering out of the cowshed, her big pointed ears upright, her tail wagging. Tyler was singing to the cow and Daisy was shuffling in the hay, her bell lightly tinkling.
‘Hi!’ Tyler nodded to Sam. ‘Daisy likes a tune. Can you sing, Sam?’
‘I was once in the church choir.’
‘She loves a song, does our Daisy. Only I can’t sing.’
Sam began to serenade Daisy with Hey Diddle Diddle and when Daisy mooed back they both laughed.
‘What about kicking a ball about,’ said Sam.
‘I’d like that. I’ll just finish off here. Where’s Chloe?’
‘With Nimbus.’
‘He’s a funny one,’ said Tyler as they made their way up to the field, reaching the place where the slope flattened out. ‘I see him prowling around.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘At night. I don’t always sleep, so I go out. It’s the best way. I’ve seen him up on the hill there.’
‘What does he do?’
Tyler spoke cautiously. ‘I’m not sure. I don’t go that near. Last night I heard them singing Ring a ring a roses.’
‘That’s a plague rhyme,’ said Sam.
‘Have the map back? Not yet my dear. We still have things to do.’
Nimbus was sitting cross-legged in front of Chloe, under the black pendant, offering her pills, reaching for his hip flask. She looked away but this time he leaned towards her and as she struggled he roughly poured the liquid down her throat and pressed pills into her mouth. She hated him as he held her tight, staring at her and waiting. There was nothing she could do. Soon the drugs would take effect and it would not be long before she would feel as if she had been with him all her life, as if she was one of his tribe, living in the shelter of a great shadow. She tried to concentrate on a picture of Sam but his laughter and flippancy and freedom seemed a long way away. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
‘It seems a pity,’ said Nimbus, half to her, half to himself, ‘’you remind me of our Rosie. She was thin and gawky, like a fawn.’ He paused then said ominously, ‘It has to be done.’
Tammy handed her father the map and he spread it open on the floor. Chloe knelt and waited. She was a passerelle and the shadow would soon come back. Its voice would slip between her tongue and teeth, to tell all the secrets it had picked up through the years.
With the greatest effort she had ever made, as if she knew it was a matter of life and death, she fought the voice of the shadow with all her will power. Her words came out slurred and meaningless, a gibberish she could never have invented in a sane moment. For what seemed a long time, she fought the shadow with a sort of madness, until its ghostly voice was only an echo. But still the voice that came out of her mouth was not her own.
‘I am old as the hills and as deep as the night. Hidden in a cavern among caverns, a tunnel among tunnels. I am the secret of the stone-mason monks who made my hiding place and kept it secret. There is only one map to where I am, only a few paths to follow. You may go astray, be strangled by the dry fingers of the underground river that leads beyond the stone mine corridors. Or you may find my treasure house and then be lost.’
Where did the voice come from, or the words? How, despite herself, had she become someone else, floating and obedient, part of the Nimbus tribe that had adopted her? Was she a passerelle to the dark forces? Her eyes were closed and she became aware of a change in Nimbus’s tone. He was angry, his distant voice sounding harsh and admonishing. He towered over her and she felt as if she was sinking into the pit, as if the ground was trembling below her and Dark Time was trailing its fingers into the shadows.
‘Follow me,’ shouted Nimbus, pulling her up. His voice frightened her and she said nothing. She was still drugged and it was a great effor
t to walk. She had little feeling in her feet and no strength to break away. She knew Nimbus was faster than she was, despite his limp. In her strange state she felt as if she was walking on shadows, with Nimbus in front of her and Tammy behind. Twigs and undergrowth cut past her, soft as birds. The wind sidled up to her and took hold of her arms and when they reached the pit she wondered why Sam had talked about the stench of decay. Tonight there were no smells, only soft shadows, clean shapes, smooth flints. She was numb and blank, as if Nimbus had turned her to stone. It was only when they stopped that she had a vague understanding of where she was.
Nimbus was tying her hands together and pulling her to the edge of the pit.
Chapter Ten
In the kitchen Aidan was stirring soup in a large pot. There was a smell of herbs and potatoes and now Sam felt tired and hungry. He didn’t want to think any more about his stupid cousin.
Aidan looked at his watch. ‘We’ll eat now. If Chloe’s not back in an hour, we’ll go and find her.’
After the meal Sam washed up, then went over to the window. The light had almost gone, trees and outhouses were black against the grey sky. The trail of stars was still faint and the slowly moving light from an aeroplane crossing the sky looked like a moving planet. There was no sign or sound of Chloe, only the fuss of birds settling down, and the quick stir of a night wind flecking the leaves. Then he heard the sound of running feet.
He opened the side door. ‘Tyler! Thank goodness it’s you!’
‘There’s badgers in Bones Wood,’ said Tyler, as he stepped over the threshold. ‘I thought you might like to see them.’
‘Chloe hasn’t come back,’ he said. ‘We have to look for her.’
‘I suppose the badgers can wait,’ Tyler said slowly.
‘Do you mind, Tyler?’
Tyler suddenly smiled widely. ‘I’ll lead the way. I know this place like the back of my hand.’
Aidan joined in. ‘If we can’t find her in an hour we’ll come back here and call the police. I’ll go up to the hill and you two make for the woods.’
For all his weight, Tyler walked silent as a fox. It was Sam who scuffed along behind, tripping up over twigs and stones and leaves. By daylight the path was mud smooth but now it seemed pitted with objects. Tyler waited for Sam to catch up. ‘Here’s my torch – you’ll need it in Bones Wood,’ he whispered.
Sounds were sharper in the dark, the owl’s hoot hauntingly clear, the rustle of leaves bustling with unseen activity. The light from the torch cast a small golden disk on the way ahead, and soon Sam’s eyes grew more accustomed to the dark. The trunks of trees loomed on either side, firm and mysterious, as if they could change into other things. Deep, shadowy patches behind reminded Sam of the caves he had explored at the seaside with Chloe. He put his hand in his pocket and clutched the scraper. Odd how it comforted him, even though it had been buried for more than a thousand years.
A light wind brushed the wood and he pocketed a feather that spiralled down in front of him, brown and delicate in the rough darkness. He felt pleased. It was the flight feather of – he wasn’t sure what bird it came from but it would make a quill.
They went deeper into the wood until they reached the Nimbus Tree, stark against the shadows. By the light of his torch Sam caught a glimpse of Rosie’s name. He hurried on and then, at the smell of the pit, hung back again.
‘It’s disgusting!’
Tyler took hold of his arm. ‘There’s something I want to show you. I think I’m the only person who knows about it.’
‘What is it?’
‘A door in the pit,’ whispered Tyler.
‘What door?’
‘It leads underground.’
Tyler put his fingers on his lips and Sam lowered his voice.
‘We’re looking for Chloe, remember. This smell! You don’t want me spewing all over you, do you?’
Tyler said solemnly, ‘You could put a tissue over your mouth and nose.’
‘Point taken, only – I haven’t got one. And thanks a million but you can keep yours.’ Sam zipped his anorak up to his chin, lifting it over his nose and mouth, but it still didn’t hold back the pungent stench of decay, adding to the sense of fear that lurked round the pit.
‘Chloe won’t be here.’
‘She might be,’ whispered Tyler, ‘it’s where Nimbus comes at night.’
As they skirted holly bushes, great oaks, ash and sycamore trees, Sam kept his eyes fixed on Tyler’s solid form. A sudden splash of moonlight ghosted the wood, shining through the gap where Aidan had chopped down the highest branches of the sycamore to free the light. Sam thought of the chapel Aidan wanted to build and felt strengthened. He watched Tyler shine his torch over the pit and down to a ledge. ‘It’s in the chalk face, behind there.’
Sam squinted. ‘You could fool me.’ He could see the chalky side of the pit and the bushes that grew out at every angle but where was the door? It was probably a figment of Tyler’s peculiar imagination. ‘We’re looking for Chloe,’ he said, ‘not doing a tour of Kingsholt’s state secrets.’
‘All right, we’d better get on.’
Tyler led the way to the edge of the wood. Without warning he stopped abruptly and pushed Sam down into the bushes, then crouched down himself. Dark forms were moving towards them in single file: Nimbus, Chloe with her hands tied behind her back and Tammy. Sam tried to get up but Tyler held him down with surprising strength. All Sam could do was to watch Chloe pass. He pushed his thoughts towards her, willing her to turn, but he had to wait for the procession to go round the corner before Tyler let go of him. ‘We should’ve gone for it, you idiot!’
Tyler stuck to his guns. ‘If you want to help Chloe it’s best Nimbus doesn’t know you’re here.’
Now Nimbus was moving towards the pit. Behind him, Chloe was dragging her feet and Tammy was pushing her on.
‘You got it then?’ Nimbus’s voice carried across the trees.
Tammy gave her father a piece of paper. Nimbus pushed it at Chloe, forcing her to look at it. ‘Is it down there then?’
Chloe was silent.
‘She said it was here before,’ said Tammy. ‘A passageway leading from the pit. That’s what she said. Didn’t you, Chloe?’
Chloe remained silent.
‘That must be Aidan’s map,’ Sam said, forgetting to whisper.
Nimbus looked up sharply. ‘Who’s that?’ He looked round.
Sam’s heart beat fast. I’m having a nightmare, he thought. For a moment it seemed as if time had no depth and everything was taking place on the same plane; the day Dad disappeared; the moment Mum stood in the supermarket and cried over a tin of baked beans because Dad used to eat them; the night Dad leaned towards him at the bottom of the bed and the time when he was looking out of the window and the monk waved at him, then disappeared as easily as he had come. He put his hand into his back pocket and touched the scraper. He immediately felt calmer.
Now Nimbus was pushing Chloe forward, through the shadows, and Tammy was following. Very slowly and quietly, Tyler and Sam stalked them, edging their way from one bush to the other until they reached a clump of undergrowth near the edge of the pit. Sam wrenched his anorak over his nose and mouth and peered down. Bottomless shadows lay buried, one on top of the other. Their darkness was filled with scurries of small feet – were they rats and mice who had been feeding on the refuse? His stomach heaved and he clenched his fist round the scraper, willing it to give him all the strength he needed to face this darkness from the past. To his relief he felt a little better. He watched Tammy crawl backwards on all fours and Nimbus move slowly further down into the pit, pulling Chloe behind him, beating the undergrowth with a stick, cursing as he stumbled. He stopped on a ledge of flints and Tyler whispered, ‘He’s found the iron door!’
There was a faint hollow ring as Nimbus struck the metal with his stick. ‘This is it, Chloe, this is what you saw on the map.’
‘It’s a little bit open,’ whispered Tyler. ‘I leave it like
that so birds won’t get trapped inside.’
There was a thud, the sound of breaking twigs, a door creaking. ‘In here,’ Nimbus called. ‘This is where we’ll keep you until you’re ready to tell us more about the map. Or until they pay up.’
Sam stood up, enraged. ‘You can’t,’ he shouted angrily.
Nimbus flashed his torch round. ‘Who’s that?’
Tyler flung Sam to the ground and put his large hand across his mouth.
‘We can still stop it,’ breathed Sam, through Tyler’s thick, hot fingers. ‘And you’re hurting me. Get off, you dummy!’
But there was nothing he could do against Tyler’s solid strength, his big hand clamped over his mouth. When at last Tyler let go Sam clenched his fists and pummelled Tyler’s firm body.
‘We’ll get her back when Nimbus has gone,’ said Tyler, pulling away. ‘Then he won’t know, will he? Then we’ll have more time.’
Sam hugged his knees and pressed his face against them in an effort to overcome his feelings. Full of despair and frustration he was unaware of Nimbus climbing up the pit towards them. He only felt a quick surge of pain as Tyler shoved him into a hollow under a bush. He stayed there, immobile and stunned, as Tyler stood up.
‘So it was you,’ said Nimbus in a sour voice.
‘You know me,’ said Tyler, ‘up half the night. See nothing, say nothing. That’s how I am. I’ve only just got here.’
‘What do you mean, see nothing?’
‘Mean what I say,’ said Tyler fearlessly. ‘Only see owls and rabbits and rats and mice and ferrets and badgers That’s all I see. Nothing else.’
‘Get out,’ said Nimbus. ‘There’s no badger holes round here.’
‘There’s nothing would live round here,’ said Tyler. ‘Nothing but rats and mice and ferrets. Is that what you two are looking for?’
‘You go on home,’ said Nimbus. He turned and put his arm round Tammy. ‘This is our refuse pit, so don’t you come near it.’
Tyler held his nose between his fingers.
‘Get going,’ said Nimbus.
Tyler looked up into the dark sky. ‘It’s the buzzard I’m watching tonight.’
Kingsholt Page 7
