by Anna Dale
‘I’ll finish unpacking the shopping, if you like,’ said Dawn sweetly, putting her bowl in the sink. She took a jar of peanut butter out of Trudy’s hand and placed it on a shelf. ‘Why don’t you sit down and have some breakfast?’
‘Thank you, Dawn,’ said Trudy, making a beeline for the mug stand. She poured herself a black coffee and sighed with contentment as she took her first sip. ‘So, tell me, have you managed to unscramble that message yet?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ Trudy looked at her watch, gasped, and took an enormous swig of coffee. Snatching up an apple she said, ‘Leave the rest of that stuff, Dawn. Felix can do it. We need to be at the Bingham house in fifteen minutes – and put your wellies on. From what Bill Bingham said on the phone, we’re going to be knee-deep in pond slime for most of the morning.’
Felix didn’t seem too thrilled to be left in charge of kitchen duties. ‘S’pose I’ll have to do the washing up as well,’ he grumbled. He buttered a piece of toast and crunched it crossly. ‘So, Kitty Tight-lips,’ he said, addressing Dawn, ‘how about telling us what was in that message? We’re dying to know, aren’t we, Trudes?’
Trudy glared at him. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ll admit I’m curious, but I’m more concerned with getting to the Binghams’ on time. We’ve got to finish that job by midday because then we’re due at the Masons’ in Chickweed Close.’ She beckoned to Dawn impatiently. ‘Get your skates on, miss.’
‘I’m afraid,’ said Dawn, cringing behind a large bag of long-grained rice, ‘I shan’t be able to come with you today.’
‘WHAT?’ Trudy’s face changed colour quicker than a traffic light. ‘WHY NOT?’
‘I need to … um … mount a surveillance operation on my chief suspect,’ said Dawn, using some of the lingo she’d learned in her training sessions with Socrates. She thought it made her sound as if she knew what she was doing.
Trudy’s eyes widened in astonishment. ‘You’ve got a chief suspect?’ she said.
‘Wow!’ said Felix. ‘Who is it? The weasel-faced chap who told us that fib about seeing a ghost?’
Dawn shook her head. ‘It’s Charles Noble. He lives in The Old Oast House at the top end of the Green.’
‘Hallelujah!’ said Trudy, who seemed quite overcome. She pressed her hands against her face (nearly poking herself in the eye with the apple) and beamed so widely that Dawn was concerned her face might split. ‘Oh, that’s brilliant,’ said Trudy. ‘That’s marvellous.’
‘Don’t get too excited,’ said Dawn. ‘Charles is only my chief suspect. I’ve got another three that I haven’t eliminated yet. I don’t know that Charles is Meek, for sure.’
‘It’ll turn out to be him, you’ll see,’ said Trudy happily. Throwing down the apple, she picked up a frying pan and set it on the cooker. ‘I’ll make us all a slap-up breakfast to celebrate! Who’s for some eggy bread and some hash browns?’
‘What are you doing?’ asked Dawn in astonishment. ‘I thought you were due at the Binghams’ house in a few minutes.’
‘Well, I don’t have to go now, do I?’ said Trudy cheerfully. She poured some oil into the pan and started to hum a tune.
‘Why not?’ said Dawn.
Playfully, Trudy patted Dawn on the head with a spatula. ‘Because, you clever little spy, you’ve found your man … which means you won’t need to snoop around people’s houses any more … and I won’t have to toil away in their stupid gardens.’ She laughed at Dawn’s anxious expression. ‘Don’t look so worried! I’ll ring the Binghams and the Masons in a minute and tell them I’ve had to cancel.’
Dawn wrinkled her forehead. ‘That doesn’t sound like a very good idea,’ she said. ‘It’s bound to make them annoyed if you pull out at the last minute … not to mention suspicious. And what about all the other appointments you’ve got? It’ll look awfully fishy if you cancel those as well. I think it would be best if you carried on as normal.’
Trudy shrieked, and looked as if she were about to burst into tears. ‘You’re heartless … absolutely heartless!’ she said, throwing down the spatula and glowering at Dawn. ‘Give me one good reason why I should do what you say!’
‘I’ll supply you with three,’ said Felix swiftly. ‘Dawn’s argument makes perfect sense; Dawn’s in charge of the mission; and I don’t think either of us fancy your idea of a slap-up breakfast. What on earth is “eggy bread”? It sounds gross.’
‘Two against one, then, is it?’ said Trudy bitterly. ‘I see. Well, I’d better be off to the Binghams’, then, hadn’t I? What a fun-filled day I’ll be having.’ She stuck her sizeable nose in the air and stalked out of the kitchen.
‘Oh dear,’ said Dawn. ‘She seemed quite upset.’
Felix shrugged, and dipped a knife into a pot of marmalade.
‘Thanks for sticking up for me,’ said Dawn. ‘That was nice of you.’
‘’S all right,’ said Felix. He spread marmalade lavishly on a slice of toast and took a bite. ‘So,’ he said, ‘what time are we starting this stake-out?’
‘We?’ said Dawn. ‘Oh, no, no, no. You can’t come. It’s strictly a one-woman job.’
‘Rotten old spoilsport,’ mumbled Felix. ‘I would have thought you’d be glad of our help.’ He tossed a piece of toast at Haltwhistle, who lunged at it and missed.
‘Actually,’ said Dawn slyly, ‘there is something I was going to ask you to do for me … if it’s not too much trouble.’
Instantly, Felix snapped out of his bad mood. ‘Is it to do with the mission?’
‘Yes,’ said Dawn.
‘Is it ever so difficult and … and fraught with danger?’
‘Of course!’ Dawn bent close to his ear. ‘Now, listen very carefully …’
***
Pretending to read a comic called Nutty which she had picked up for ten pence at a second-hand book fair in the village hall, Dawn watched The Old Oast House. She had chosen to sit on a bench beside an enormous lime tree, and reckoned that she could not have found a more perfect spot from which to observe Charles Noble’s movements. The bench was just the right distance from Charles’s front gate: close enough to catch sight of him should he show his face at a window but not so near that he might suspect he was being spied upon. The lime tree was a bonus. It threw a shadow over the bench and rendered Dawn almost invisible.
For the first two hours, Dawn hardly stirred. She blinked every now and then and, occasionally, turned a page of her comic – but that was all. Her eyes were trained on The Old Oast House and her mind was focused on the task in hand. Halfway through the third hour, however, she began to experience little lapses in concentration and by the fourth she found herself fighting the urge to read about the adventures of Bananaman (the superhero who featured in a cartoon strip on Nutty’s front page). When Dawn realised what was happening to her, she was stunned. For perhaps the first time in her life, she was actually on the verge of being bored.
‘Get a shift on, Charles,’ murmured Dawn, willing him to emerge from his front door. One of her toes began to wriggle impatiently. ‘Oh, how I wish that something would happen!’
Two minutes later she cursed herself for opening her big mouth. In desperation, Dawn raised her comic a couple of inches and tried to hide behind it; but despite her best efforts to escape detection, she was spotted.
A nose shoved itself underneath her copy of Nutty. A big black wet nose attached to a hairy muzzle.
‘Go away, Fred,’ hissed Dawn anxiously. As usual, the dog did the exact opposite of what he’d been told to do; jumped up on to the bench and gave her ear a clumsy lick.
‘Hi, Kitty!’
Dawn grimaced at the sight of Felix running towards her. She folded the comic in two and dropped it into her lap.
‘Thought you’d be lurking around here somewhere. Bet you’re surprised to see us so soon,’ said Felix, plonking himself down on the bench. ‘Mission accomplished!’ he declared, and dropped a large stone into her hand.
‘This isn’t–’ began Da
wn.
‘I know!’ Felix laughed and nudged her in the ribs. ‘That’s my little idea of a joke.’ He delved into a pocket of his shorts. ‘Here’s your precious thingumajig,’ he said, producing Dawn’s shell phone. ‘We stumbled across it on the hillside. Well, Fred’s the one who found it, really. It had rolled down a rabbit hole.’
‘Thanks,’ said Dawn, stuffing the phone into her rucksack.
‘You don’t seem very pleased!’ Felix sounded rather put out. ‘Aren’t you going to give Fred a pat?’
‘If I must,’ said Dawn. She glanced at The Old Oast House to make sure that Charles had not made an appearance; then touched Haltwhistle lightly between his ears. ‘Clever dog,’ she said.
In truth, she was tremendously relieved that the phone was in her possession again. Earlier that morning, when she’d discovered that it was missing, Dawn had felt angst-ridden. Losing a gadget counted as a very grave error. If a villager had found it – and if Murdo Meek had got to hear of its existence, Operation Question Mark might have had to be abandoned. Dawn had asked Felix to look for it to keep him occupied so that he and his boneheaded dog would not be able to mess up the surveillance operation. Unfortunately, they had found the phone much quicker than she had expected. Dawn guessed that she must have dropped it when she got her foot stuck in a rabbit hole the night before.
‘I’m really grateful to you both,’ said Dawn in a slightly strained voice, ‘but I’m in the middle of something important …’
Felix did not seem to take the hint. ‘I’m parched,’ he said. ‘Got anything to drink?’
‘I might have a drop of water,’ said Dawn, with a sigh. ‘If I give it to you, will you promise to go away?’
Felix ignored her offer. He tilted his head as if he were trying to hear a faraway sound. Dawn listened, too – and heard the tinkling warble of an ice-cream van. It grew louder and louder.
‘How about treating me and Fred to a couple of ice lollies … as a reward for finding your dumb old phone?’ said Felix.
‘All right,’ said Dawn, wearily. She was prepared to agree to anything if only Felix would make himself scarce. Fumbling in her purse, she drew out a five-pound note.
‘Thanks,’ said Felix, snatching it out of her hand. He started to walk towards the ice-cream van, which had parked a little way down the street. Haltwhistle leaped off the bench and bounded after him. ‘Oh,’ said Felix. He stopped, and looked over his shoulder at Dawn. ‘Suppose you’d like one, too?’
Why do I bother? thought Dawn resentfully. I try my utmost not to draw attention to myself and then Felix turns up and ruins everything. She gave a frustrated moan.
‘Was that a “yes”? yelled Felix. ‘What sort do you want?’
Dawn decided that there was no longer any point in attempting to be discreet. ‘A Blackcurrant Tongue-tingler, please,’ she answered.
Felix gave her the thumbs-up, and sauntered over to the white-and-yellow van with pictures of ice creams and brightly coloured lollies pasted around its serving hatch. She watched as Felix pressed his finger against three of the pictures and spoke to the ice-cream man who was wearing a white cap and apron. The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said something back. Felix nodded; the man handed over three lollies and took the money that he was offered. He seemed a pleasant type of person with a shock of red hair and an engaging smile.
‘It can’t be!’ said Dawn, and she scrambled to find the pair of binoculars in her rucksack. She took less than thirty seconds to press them to her eyes and adjust the focus, but in that short space of time the ice-cream man had driven off.
Sucking a green ice-lolly in the shape of a racing car, Felix returned to the bench beside the lime tree. He made his dog sit (on the seventh attempt) and ripped off the wrapper of a rabbit-shaped lolly with hundreds and thousands stuck to it. Haltwhistle took the whole lolly in his mouth and crunched it as if it were a dog biscuit, his tail sweeping the ground.
‘He’d run out of Blackcurrant Tongue-tinglers,’ said Felix, handing Dawn an unfamiliar lolly, ‘but the chap said that this one is just as mouth-watering. It’s called a Chilblain.’
Dawn undid the wrapper and was very disappointed to find a plain red ice-lolly underneath. She gave it a half-hearted lick. It tasted vaguely of rhubarb.
‘Tell me about the ice-cream man,’ said Dawn. ‘Did you get a good look at him? Could you have met him before, do you think?’
Felix shrugged, and made an unattractive slurping noise. ‘I don’t know,’ he said, removing his lolly from his mouth and smacking his lips, which had turned faintly green. ‘He was just an ordinary bloke.’
‘I thought … he looked … a bit like Nathan,’ said Dawn hesitantly.
‘No,’ said Felix, but he didn’t sound completely sure.
‘So, he didn’t give you a message … ’ Dawn’s mouth dropped open. All thoughts of finishing her sentence went out of her head when she caught sight of Charles Noble walking down his driveway.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Felix. He followed Dawn’s gaze. ‘Oh. Is that your chief suspect? Are we going to follow him now?’
‘Yes,’ said Dawn, tucking her belongings into her rucksack. ‘I’d rather trail him on my own, but if you insist on coming too – you’ll have to promise to keep a low profile and do exactly as I say.’
‘Of course!’ said Felix. ‘No problem.’
Chapter Eighteen
At The One-eyed Stoat
They pursued Charles at a safe distance, stopping whenever he knelt to tie a shoelace or paused to look in a shop window. Dawn did not take her eyes off him for a moment.
Could he be on his way to meet someone? she wondered. In her opinion, Charles was dressed quite smartly for a stroll about the village. His trousers seemed to have been freshly ironed and his shoes fairly gleamed. Every so often he glanced at his watch and lengthened his stride as if he were anxious not to be late for an appointment.
‘Want to hear a joke?’ said Felix cheerfully. He held his lolly stick lengthways and read the words that had been etched on to it: “Why did the ball of wool go on holiday?”
‘Don’t know,’ said Dawn. She licked her Chilblain, and watched Charles closely as he crossed a road.
“To unwind!” said Felix.
Dawn groaned.
‘I agree,’ said Felix, tossing the stick into the nearest litter bin. ‘Not exactly side-splitting, is it.’
The joke had nothing whatever to do with Dawn’s anguished utterance. ‘He’s heading for the pub,’ she said despondently, ‘and if The One-eyed Stoat is anything like our local in Hackney, children won’t be allowed inside.’
‘We’ll have to creep in on all fours and hide under a table,’ said Felix, ‘when we’re sure that nobody’s looking.’
Dawn wasn’t at all confident that his idea would work. If she concentrated extremely hard, it might be possible for her to sidle into the pub unseen, but if Felix and Haltwhistle accompanied her, she was certain that they would all be spotted in five seconds flat. Persuading Felix to wait outside while she ventured in alone was not going to be easy, though.
Charles had already passed through the pub’s doorway by the time Dawn and her hangers-on made it to the other side of the road. Not allowing herself to panic, Dawn ambled along at the same pace until she reached The One-eyed Stoat. It was a quaint little place with a red front door, mullioned windows and Virginia creeper wrapped around its brickwork like a leafy shawl.
‘What do we do now?’ whispered Felix as they stopped underneath a hanging basket.
Dawn swallowed. ‘Don’t get all huffy – but I’ve come to the decision that it might be best if I … ’ She lost her thread completely as her eyes settled on an easel standing by the door. Written upon it in chalk were the words: GLORIOUS GARDEN ROUND THE BACK – FAMILIES WELCOME. ‘Problem solved!’ she said gleefully, grabbing Felix by the arm. ‘With any luck Charles will choose to take his pint outside. I can’t believe he’d want to sit in a dingy corner of the pub on s
uch a beautiful day! Come on!’
They unlatched a gate at the side of the building. A paved path led into a small, grassy garden which contained several picnic tables, and wooden tubs crowned with flowers. There was no sign of Charles, but at least a dozen people were sitting at the tables, lazily sipping their drinks or munching on doorstep sandwiches.
Dawn and Felix bagged a table close to the back door of the pub through which they could see bodies milling in a darkened room. Dawn noticed that their table’s previous occupants had left behind their unfinished drinks and a half-eaten ploughman’s lunch. She cupped her hand around a glass with orange liquid at the bottom and pretended it was her own. Felix did likewise, and Haltwhistle whined until he was slipped a crust of bread.
‘Uh,’ said Felix with relief, ‘it’s nice to sit down for a bit. Fred and I must’ve walked for miles this morning. We searched every inch of that hillside, not to mention Palethorpe Manor … ’
‘What?’ said Dawn, tearing her eyes away from the pub’s gloomy interior. ‘You went back to Palethorpe? Did you find anything?’
‘No,’ hissed Felix impatiently. ‘I already told you that we found your phone down a rabbit hole.’
‘I know that!’ Dawn leaned closer to him. ‘I was wondering if you’d come across anything unusual that might lead you to believe that someone had been living there.’
‘Are you deranged, or what?’ said Felix, and he snorted. ‘Of course I didn’t. There was just loads of dust and cobwebs and big lumps of rubble … and before you ask – I didn’t see any spook, either.’
‘Ah … Seth’s ghost,’ said Dawn. She sucked her Chilblain thoughtfully. Little rivulets of red juice streaked past her knuckles as the lolly started to melt. ‘I’ve been thinking about her.’
‘Why waste your time doing that?’ scoffed Felix.
‘Because I don’t doubt that she was real.’
