“I see. How is she planning to get it back?”
“No idea. She’s never been on land before. She’d like to stay for a while…”
“She can stay here,” says Uncle Alistair immediately. I smile. He has a heart of gold. “Not sure where she can sleep, though. My spare room is full of boxes. Righty-o, I’m off to Parson’s to get some furniture, then.”
“I’ll help,” I offer.
“Come on, Camilla, we’re going to get some clothes for Mary from my mum’s wardrobe.” Valentina heads for the door.
“Sure!” Camilla twirls towards the ceiling in happiness.
“You can’t do that. If Isabella sees Mary dressed in her clothes, she’ll guess we took them,” points out Uncle Alistair. “We need to buy her some new stuff. There.” He hands her a small wad of notes.
“We’re on it.” Valentina is beaming.
“Ok then. Luca, you come with me to Parson’s. Valentina and Camilla, you hit the shops.”
Half an hour later we’re trying to fit a bed frame, a mattress, a pillow, a bedside table and a lamp into the van.
“Hi! What are you doing?” It’s Mum, walking down the main street with two bags of groceries.
“Sorting a room for a friend. Mary. She’s coming up from London. Starting afresh, a few hard times and all that,” explains Uncle Alistair.
“I’d love to meet her. Tell her she’s welcome to ours anytime.”
“Will do!”
“Is she moving up for good?”
“She’s not sure yet. Everything is… at sea, at the moment.” I stifle a smile. “Let’s just say she’s been in stormy waters, recently.” I can’t help laughing.
“Luca! That’s not funny, poor girl… Anyway, I’m off. Call if you need me.”
Somehow we manage to get everything into the van, although we have to drive very, very slowly.Well, Uncle Alistair drives, while I walk beside him, checking that the mattress hanging out of the boot doesn’t fall down completely.
I think we can set things up so Mary will be happy on land.
16. TREASURE HUNTING
Alistair Grant’s Scottish Paranormal Database
Entry Number 57: Ghostly sea eagles
Type: Ghostly apparition
Location: Isle of Shuna
Date: First recorded sighting 1782; latest sighting spring 2012
Details: On the tiny isle of Shuna, a family of ghostly sea eagles hunt the cliffs. They resemble normal birds, but they may disappear in mid-flight. Many expeditions have tried to get close sightings of them, but all have failed. The ghostly sea-eagle cry is very sad, and so intense that it can make even sailors cry.
The moon is shining on the moving sea, perfectly round. It looks like a million crystals are floating on the waves. It’s so bright we can see almost as well as in the daytime.
Mary is waiting for us.
“Luca, Valentina… Oh!” She freezes as she registers Uncle Alistair.
“Don’t worry, he’s the one we were telling you about – you can trust him.”
“Alistair Grant,” says Uncle Alistair, and puts out his hand. Mary looks at him, puzzled. “You’re supposed to take it, and shake it,” he says kindly.
Mary does so, her arm dripping wet.
“And what’s your name?” she asks Camilla. “I’ve seen you floating around.”
“I’m Camilla. Oh, I love it when people can see me!”
“Here are your clothes.” Valentina hands Mary a bundle.
“I chose the top,” says Valentina.
“And I chose the jeans,” chips in Camilla.
“Thank you, girls…”
“Right, Luca, come on.” Uncle Alistair and I walk a bit further away, letting Mary get dressed. Suddenly, Alistair stops in his tracks.
“What’s that tune you’re humming?” he asks.
I wasn’t even aware I was humming.
“Don’t know what it’s called, I hear it sometimes… sort of in my head. Why?”
“Can you hear it now?” He looks so… intense. Like it’s really, really important.
“Not now, no.”
“Listen to me, Luca.” He crouches in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, his eyes burning into mine. “When you hear it next, I want you to close your eyes and… tune into it. I want you to concentrate very, very carefully. If something happens, if you See something, you need to tell me. Ok?”
“Ok. Sure…” What is going on?
“St Anne’s Reel.”
“Pardon?”
“St Anne’s Reel. The tune you were humming. It was a favourite of my mum’s.”
“Ready!” calls Valentina. Uncle Alistair tears his gaze away from mine. He looks… forlorn. He’s got so many secrets, and I wonder if I’ll ever fully understand them?
The girls walk up to us. Mary is wearing a blue jumper and jeans and a pair of trainers. She’d look totally and utterly normal, except for her long wet hair, and those seal eyes, bright as the full moon.
She’s holding something that looks a bit like a blanket, shimmering subtly in the moonlight. She’s hugging it tight, like she doesn’t want to let go of it. I look at her face. She’s frightened.
“Don’t be scared,” I try to soothe her. Valentina takes her by the arm, gently.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be safe with us,” says Uncle Alistair, and his voice is soft, like I’ve never heard it before. That’s how he is. A bit weird, but so, so kind.
We head back, with Mary holding onto Uncle Alistair’s arm. She’s wobbling a bit, because she’s not used to walking on dry land. She’s gazing about like she’s seeing everything for the first time. Which I suppose she is.
When we get to Weird HQ, Mary looks around apprehensively.
“Come in. I’ll show you where to put your skin,” says Uncle Alistair, and leads her into her room. I smile, as I notice he has hung a pair of blue curtains on the window. It’s a nice touch. There’s a sheet laid out on her brand new duvet that is blue as well. Maybe Uncle Alistair thought that having everything blue would make her feel more at home.
“There, you can wrap your skin in the sheet and keep it in the wardrobe. So you’ll always know it’s safe.”
“Thank you,” says Mary, and she sounds incredibly grateful.
“Would you like some tea, to warm you up?”
She looks at him with wide eyes. “Tea?”
“Never tried it, of course! I’ll make you a cup. Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?”
“I’m starving actually… I couldn’t eat all day, I was so nervous.”
“Fish, I suppose?”
“Yes, please.” Her voice is very sweet, very soft, like waves. Uncle Alistair disappears into the kitchen and emerges with a plate. On the plate is a fish. Raw, cold, straight out of the fridge.
“Thanks,” says Mary, and bites the head off the fish, leaving a bloody gutsy grey stump in its place.
I feel like throwing up. Uncle Alistair and Valentina seem unfazed.
“Beans on toast, guys? We all need energy for tonight.”
“No thanks,” I mutter.
“Yes please! Any sausages going?” says Valentina.
“Sure thing, but let’s make it quick. We need to break into the McAnenas’ house.”
We need to WHAT?
“Ok, no problem.” Valentina seems unconcerned.
“Yes, problem! We can’t go burgling people’s houses!”
“It’s not technically burgling. The ring is Mary’s.”
“Oh well, then! Guys, you’re crazy…” I take my face in my hands.
“Come on, Luca, it’ll be fine. Maybe we should wear black? Paint our faces black too?”
“Put twigs in our hair so we look like bushes?” I add, sarcastically.
“Good idea…”
Oh, no. No nonononono.
“Wait a minute…” It’s Mary’s soft voice. “Can I not just ask him to give me my ring back? Say that I lost it in on the beach, and…”
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“That would mean explaining the situation to him. I’m not sure you want to do that…”
“You’d need to tell him you’re a selkie,” adds Valentina.
Uncle Alistair shrugs.
“Exactly. Nah, it won’t work. I often say, burgling is the solution to many a problem.”
Isn’t it just?
***
Half an hour later we’re crouching in the McAnenas’ garden, the five of us. Mary looks petrified. She had to come so she could identify her ring, but I can see how scared she is. Valentina is as cool as ever. Camilla is humming to herself, swaying gently from side to side.
Uncle Alistair is wearing infrared glasses and is dressed top to toe in black lycra, leggings and all. He wanted a ninja suit, but all we could find was Aunt Shuna’s old aerobics get-up. His white, hairy legs stick out from the too-short leggings. If anyone sees him like this, it’s prison for him. Or the circus, one of the two.
The McAnenas’ house is in complete darkness.
“Right. I’m going to silence the alarm,” says Uncle Alistair, taking a brightly coloured mass of something sticky from his bag.
“Is that Play-doh?”
“It’s EFD, Electrical Failure Device!” explains Camilla. “We used to go through tons of the stuff in London!”
“I stick this on the burglar alarm…” Uncle Alistair points at the blinking light beside the second-floor window “…and Bob’s your uncle!”
“Who’s Bob? Another uncle of yours?” whispers Mary in her soft voice.
“Er… never mind. You stay there, everyone.”
We watch as Uncle Alistair in his lycra aerobics gear grabs two handfuls of ivy and pulls himself up. He’s a lot stronger, a lot more agile than I expected. And a lot quicker. In three long vertical strides he’s level with the burglar alarm and has stuck EFD all over it. We see the blinking light blink once more, and disappear. Result!
If I weren’t so completely horrified by what we’re actually doing, I’d be excited by now.
Uncle Alistair jumps down – it’s awfully high up, but he doesn’t seem to mind – and runs towards us in that bounding way he has.
“Now,” he whispers, “Luca, Mary. It’s your turn.”
“WHAT?” Valentina and I whisper.
“Why me?”
“Why not me?” Valentina is outraged.
“Do what I say. Valentina, you watch for anything stirring outside. Camilla, you watch for anything stirring inside. Aaaand… we’re good to go!”
He bounds back towards the door, and Mary and I follow, with Camilla floating above us. I turn back to see that Valentina has climbed the brick wall and is sitting there mutinously, arms crossed, watching the road in the orange light of the lamp-post.
Uncle Alistair takes out a little key from his pocket, and he opens the door, just like that, no sweat. Mary and I look at each other.
He really would make the perfect criminal.
“Right, in you go. I’ll wait here.”
“What?”
“Shhhh! It’s better this way! I’m a lot bigger than you! I’ll wait in front of the door. GO!”
I swallow hard. If we get found out, how am I going to explain this to my mum and dad?
Anyway, here I am and I’ve got to do it. No choice now.
The McAnena family is sleeping, the house is in perfect darkness. Mary and I tiptoe upstairs, with Camilla floating above us. My heart is in my throat, every creak of the wooden floor clenches my stomach… Once she’s on the landing, Camilla gestures to us to wait. She enters the first bedroom, floating right through the door, and comes out shaking her head. Then she floats inside the second bedroom and comes out nodding enthusiastically. It’s Euan’s room.
I open the door as quietly as I can. I can make out Euan’s dark shape, gently rising and falling in time with his breathing, in the bed beside the window.
Mary points silently towards Euan’s desk. There are several shoeboxes piled on it, big and small. I lift the lid of one… they’re full of treasure. Shells, coins, bits of polished glass, pebbles smoothed by the sea…
Euan sighs and turns over in his bed. We freeze, and my heart leaps. How am I going to explain all this to my mum and dad? But Euan doesn’t wake.
We have no time to go through the boxes, and the noise would give us away, so Mary and I pile our arms with them and make our way out. We’re tiptoeing down the stairs when Mary, whose footing is still unsure on dry land, trips and lands on her bottom, boxes and little shiny things falling everywhere. The soft thud of her body on the stairs and the plink-plink-plink of Euan’s treasure on the wooden floor resound through the silent house.
This. Is. Bad.
We try frantically to pick everything up. I see Uncle Alistair’s shape through the glass door, jumping up and down in alarm. Everything is back in the boxes, and we’re ready to run when…
A gurgle. A stir. A yelp.
A SCREEEEEEEEEEAM fills the air, and it’s the loudest, most piercing noise you’ll ever hear: a baby.
Footsteps. We’re frozen at the bottom of the stairs, as a figure in white walks across the landing making little soothing noises: “There, there… Mummy’s coming…” The figure stops in her tracks all of a sudden.
We both jump out of the way, flattening ourselves against the wall opposite the door, clutching our boxes to our chests.
“Hello? Hello? Anybody there?” she calls.
Please pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don’t come downstairs!
At that moment, Camilla swooshes in front of us and up the stairs. I see her float right in front of a picture hanging on the landing, and scrunch up her face in concentration. I know what she’s trying to do… but it’s not working. The picture is too heavy for her to move. Camilla’s face curls up into itself, and she’s PFFFFFMMMMMMMing with the effort… Until finally, the picture falls off and breaks with a shattering noise, and a sea of glass sweeps the landing. The woman in white screams.
“Sharon? Are you ok?” a male voice, struggling to be heard over the baby’s screams.
It’s our chance. The noise of the screaming baby is so loud, and Euan’s mum and dad are so freaked out at the painting coming off the wall like that, that we manage to run towards the door unnoticed, and then out into the night, dangerously balancing a pile of boxes each.
My heart is beating so hard I think I’m going to faint. I crouch against the brick wall at the bottom of the garden, and Valentina and Uncle Alistair bend over us.
“Did you get it?” Uncle Alistair whispers.
“I’m not sure. Too many boxes of stuff. We took everything out.” The McAnena house is now fully lit, and the silhouettes of its inhabitants pass back and forth in front of the windows.
“I just hope it is really in here…” whispers Mary, leaning over her pile of boxes and clutching them to her heart.
“Are you ok, Luca?”
“I… am… ok….” I whisper. I’m panting so hard I think I’ll faint. “Never…doing this….again!”
“Yeah, no, maybe,” shrugs Uncle Alistair and jumps on the wall. “Pass me the boxes, guys.”
I climb on the wall too, and turn around to reach out my hand to Mary to help her climb, when I see that she has turned her back to us and she’s peering in the darkness.
The pyjama-clad shape of a small boy comes out of the shadows.
The boy reaches out his hand, palm up. On it, a golden ring.
“Are you looking for this?”
Mary smiles and nods, taking the ring from Euan and slipping it on her white finger.
“So you could See me all along. I mean, you know who I am.”
Euan shrugs his shoulders. “I See a lot of strange things, I just don’t tell. I looked for you, to return the ring, but I haven’t seen you for a while. Can I have my treasure back?”
We hand Euan the boxes, one after the other. He balances them all in front of his face.
“Thank you. This will be difficult to explain to Mum and Dad
. Oh well, I’ll find a way. I always do. See you in school, Valentina!” And he walks away.
We are all speechless.
“Well, that was easy!” booms Uncle Alistair, standing under the orange light in his ninja suit. “We should do this kind of thing more often!”
***
We’re back at Weird HQ. Valentina and I are straightening ourselves, getting leaves out of our hair and sweeping mud off our jackets. We told our mum and dad we were going to watch a DVD at Uncle Alistair’s, so we can’t look as though we’ve been hiding in bushes, like we, in fact, did.
Mary disappears into her room, and when she comes back, she has something for us.
“I had wrapped them into my skin, to keep them safe. There.”
She hands us one shell each. They’re oysters, and inside them lies a perfect, shiny, unbelievably beautiful pearl.
“Thank you,” she says softly, “to all of you.” Her liquid eyes linger in mine, and I feel like I’m diving in the waves of the sea.
17. SHETLAGGED
Alistair Grant’s Scottish Paranormal Database
Entry Number 202: Storytelling Luh
Type: Cryptozoology
Location: Shetland
Date:13 April 2007
Details: The teacher of St Magnus’ Primary in southern Shetland, having left the school playground briefly to attend to a hurt child, returned to find the schoolchildren sitting happily around a Luh, who was telling them a story. The Luh is a kind of werewolf, having the body of a human and the head of a wolf. He feeds on fish and is known for his generosity: he enjoys leaving gifts of fish in front of people’s houses.
It’s the last day of school before the October week holiday. Valentina and I are sitting at the breakfast table, eating toast and Nutella. I’m struggling to keep my eyes open – the mysterious music I’ve been hearing woke me up in the middle of the night. Twice.
Uncle Alistair walks into the kitchen, or should I say he jumps into the kitchen, in his usual subtle way.
“MORNING GUYS! ISABELLA! You look lovely today. What a nice… nice… nice hairdo!”
Really Weird Removals.com Page 12
