Then Bryony saw the Christmas tree at the front of the hall, supplied by the local tree-trimmers. A sign below it said:
The tree was huge, and covered with tinsel and lights and the daintiest glittery baubles. On the top was a star made from amber-coloured glass which shone like pure gold.
‘Not bad!’ nodded Josh, looking it up and down with a grin.
Just then, the rest of the Super Six appeared.
‘Bry, look!’ said Emma. ‘I’ve bought Piggy some spray. It’s a detangler for impossible manes. I need to get him smart enough to pull Cinderella’s carriage.’
‘Great,’ smiled Bryony. ‘And I’ll help!’
As the friends chatted about what else they’d seen, two ladies in big furry hats passed by, gossiping about Mr Thimblefold. Mr Thimblefold was right – word did travel fast, thought Bryony.
She needed to tell the others about the silver. ‘Hey, guys,’ she said, suddenly serious. ‘We’ve got an important new mystery to solve.’
‘What?’ asked Finn. So Bryony told them all about it.
Everyone looked puzzled. ‘Wait,’ said Hari. ‘Mr Thimblefold didn’t see who dumped the silver? And they didn’t stay to get paid?’
‘That’s right,’ Bryony nodded.
‘Highly illogical,’ frowned Finn.
‘But it’s true,’ piped up Josh.
Alice sighed. ‘Poor Mr Thimblefold!’
‘What a shock he must have had when the police arrived,’ said Emma.
They agreed to all think about it overnight and pool their thoughts tomorrow. They had their usual Wednesday meeting planned at Lookout Towers at five but Bryony was certain they’d see each other at Seaview beforehand.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Christmas shopping time! Anyone know where the woodcarvings are?’
‘Down on the Green,’ Alice replied.
‘Oh, please let Mum’s little hare still be there,’ said Bryony, gazing up at the moon through the snow.
‘He will be!’ smiled Josh.
But Bryony wasn’t so sure. The rest of the day hadn’t exactly gone to plan.
‘Fingers crossed . . .’ she said and nodded hopefully.
Bryony and Josh set off to the Green through all the beautiful stalls. But they hadn’t gone far when they came across a hut covered in ivy and winter roses.
‘Mum!’ cried Bryony. ‘Wow, your stall is the best!’ Arching right over the little serving hatch was a garland of holly and mistletoe.
‘Thanks!’ smiled Mum as a customer appeared and bought one of her hand-tied Christmas posies. It had big bold red and purple peonies, white hydrangeas and frosty green eucalyptus leaves.
‘I’ve sold so many of these,’ Mum told the twins. ‘And my flowerpots with candles are selling like hot cakes!’
At this, the lady who’d just taken her posy snatched up a flowerpot too. ‘And this please!’ she said. ‘Or maybe I’ll get two . . .?’
‘We’ll leave you to it, Mum!’ Bryony smiled, so happy that things were going well. Lots more pennies for Mum’s florist shop fund, thought Bryony.
She and Josh headed off, but almost immediately a sudden stinky waft stopped them in their tracks.
‘Hang on,’ said Josh. ‘That smells just like my rugby socks!’
Next door but one to Mum’s was Hetty Nibblett’s ‘Cheese and Chutneys’ stall, which was attracting people like flies.
‘I need to buy Gramps some cheese,’ said Bryony, ‘before Hetty sells out of stinky Stilton.’
‘Judging by the pong,’ said Josh, ‘I think she’s got some left!’
But everyone was clamouring so Bryony wriggled to the front, her pocket money at the ready. She felt quite bad being so pushy. But this, she told herself, was for Grandpa!
‘Can I have that, please?’ Bryony shouted above the crowd. ‘Miss Nibblett! Yoo-hoo! That last wedge of stinky Stilton there! Miss Nibblett!’
‘Oh!’ Hetty Nibblett gave a sudden jump and seemed all of a quiver. Grandpa had a theory that Hetty was a mouse as she was so twitchy and shy. And, of course, she did sell cheese, he’d pointed out. Josh didn’t agree. If she was a mouse, he’d argued, she would eat the cheese, not sell it.
‘There!’ squeaked Hetty, passing the cheese across in a bag and taking Bryony’s clutch of coins.
‘Whoa!’ said Bryony. The smell was strong enough to knock your socks off! Even Josh’s old rugby ones. ‘Thanks, Miss Nibblett,’ she giggled and Hetty nodded back.
Now Bryony herded Josh straight to the Green. They were almost there when Emma caught up with them.
‘I might get Dad a wood sculpture too,’ she said.
‘Good plan!’ Bryony smiled. ‘Just not that moon gazing hare!’
The Coopers’ caravan was parked beside the Green, upon which they’d set out their carvings. In the centre of the big round patch of snowy grass stood Blossom, tied to a giant oak tree.
The stall had attracted a large crowd. Bryony wasn’t surprised. The Coopers’ little wooden animals were gorgeous. She was pleased for the family, but extra-worried now that Hector would already be sold.
‘Come on then,’ said Josh, ‘let’s go and see.’ But Bryony raised a hand.
‘Wait – they’re arguing!’
‘Who?’ asked Josh.
‘I dunno,’ replied Bryony. ‘A customer – at the stall maybe?’
It was so busy over there that they couldn’t see who was shouting.
‘Hang on!’ gasped Emma. ‘I know that voice. It’s Mr Brook.’
They quickly edged through the crowd to the front. ‘You’re right, Em,’ said Bryony. And Georgina’s dad sounded furious . . .
‘It had to be you!’ Austin Brook yelled. He was glowering at a man who Bryony assumed was Mr Cooper, Meredith’s dad.
Bryony had only seen her mum yesterday over at the caravan. But this had to be Mr Cooper because Meredith looked very much like him.
‘It wasn’t me,’ the man replied calmly, looking Mr Brook in the eyes. His dark brown curls were peppered with snowflakes and he wore a long heavy black coat.
‘Oh, Kit!’ Mrs Cooper called to her husband. ‘Tell him about the sticks!’
She sounded so scared as she stood in the snow, her arm around Meredith who looked tearful and quiet. And Morgan was on her other side, looking cross.
A stone’s throw away from Mr Brook, Georgina was looking on with her mum. Georgina looked as neat and pretty as ever in a grey fur coat, smart black jeans and a pair of black suede boots. Her outfit, thought Bryony, made her look like a wolf – especially with those icy blue eyes.
Mr Cooper shook the snow from his curls.
‘I took nothing from your land,’ he said to Mr Brook, ‘save the sticks that blew down in the storm on Sunday night.’
‘You took my silver!’ retorted Mr Brook. ‘A big boxful from my house. You—’
‘Daddy!’ called Georgina. ‘Just leave it now! You’ve got your silver back and I want to go home. I’m freezing!’
‘We’re not going anywhere,’ Mr Brook replied, ‘until he admits that yesterday afternoon he stole our family silver to sell it to that . . . Thimblefold!’
Bryony gasped. She couldn’t believe her ears! So the silver left in Mr Thimblefold’s shop belonged to Mr Brook!
Even so, thought Bryony, composing herself – he couldn’t just go blaming people like this without a single shred of proof! Ebony Swann, she thought, had seen plenty like Mr Brook. Throwing about wild accusations without anything to back them up. It made others miserable. Like Meredith! Only yesterday she’d been so playful and chatty, but now she looked like a frightened little rabbit.
‘Mr Brook!’ called Bryony, her heart thumping hard. ‘You can’t accuse people without evidence!’
‘Yeah,’ nodded Josh.
‘It’s not how it’s done,’ said Emma quietly.
Mr Brook glared at Bryony. ‘What business is it of yours?’ He looked even crosser than before.
‘I . . .’ Bryony felt the cr
owd’s stare. ‘I . . .’ But the words weren’t coming. Then she thought of her dad. He’d always told her to be brave. Be brave and tell the truth. And the truth was, Mr Brook was being a bully!
‘I think it’s everyone’s business,’ Bryony forced out the words, ‘when people are treated unfairly.’
Mr Brook raised his eyebrows. ‘Unfairly? Oh, don’t you worry, the police will get everything they need.’
He turned to Mr Cooper. ‘You haven’t heard the last of this!’
Mr Brook marched away in his expensive wellies, his wife and Georgina behind him. Some of the crowd now drifted off too, not buying the wooden sculptures they’d been looking at. But some – Bryony was heartened to see – didn’t just take the easy route of blaming strangers and the unfamiliar, and they stayed put . . .
‘He’s always like that,’ said a man to Mr Cooper.
‘Take no notice,’ called a lady with a pug.
‘I think,’ said Martha Lightfoot, ‘we should focus on these carvings. And I’m going to buy this little fox cub.’
‘Hear hear!’ cried Saul Salmon, the fishmonger. ‘And earlier,’ he said to Bryony, ‘I bought that huge brown bear down at Bluebell Wood.’
‘You did?’ gasped Bryony.
‘Aye,’ Saul beamed back. ‘Mr Cooper said he’s not quite finished yet, but he’ll be ready by Christmas Eve. What a lovely surprise he’ll be for me wife. She did ask for perfume but . . . who doesn’t love a bear? I’ll need tons of wrapping paper though!’
As he left, Bryony noticed Meredith across the grass. She still looked really sad and was chewing the cuff of her fleece.
‘Won’t be a sec,’ Bryony said to the others. ‘I just want to check that Meredith’s okay and see if I can still pop round later.’
But it looked like the Coopers were heading off. Mrs Cooper was now walking the children to the caravan while Mr Cooper scooped up the few sculptures not yet sold.
Bryony saw no sign of the moon gazing hare.
‘Oh,’ she sighed. Well, that was that. Hector had gone to live with another family, even though it had felt like Mum getting him was meant to be . . .
As Mr Cooper swiftly hitched Blossom to the caravan, it looked like he wanted to be left alone. The family were now inside, and moments later they were heading off down the road.
As Bryony watched the tracks they left in the snow, Grandpa suddenly appeared.
‘I just saw Mr Pettifour,’ he smiled, ‘and he’d love the sidecar for Cinderella, so I’m going to ring Bob and ask later!’
‘Thanks, Gramps,’ said Bryony.
‘You okay?’ Grandpa asked.
‘Um, yes!’ replied Bryony instinctively.
She glanced at Josh and Emma.
‘Well . . . not really,’ Bryony sighed. She just couldn’t forget the way that Mr Brook had spoken to Mr Cooper. In front of all these people too. How humiliating it must have been for the whole family!
Plus, they’d never believe a word she said again. After telling them only yesterday how welcoming Brook Dale was, this happens!
Bryony only hoped they’d realise Mr Brook didn’t speak for the whole town. But no way would the Coopers stay for Christmas now. She’d never be the friend Meredith longed for.
‘Walk with me,’ said Grandpa, taking Bryony’s hand. ‘And tell me what’s made you so sad.’
*
As the Market ended and Mum packed up, Bryony also told her about the scene on the Green.
‘And I was meant to go and see Meredith now, but I don’t know if they’ll want me, after that.’
‘But you did nothing wrong, love,’ Mum answered softly.
‘Except tell them that Brook Dale was wonderful,’ Bryony groaned.
Mum stopped and hugged Bryony as snowflakes fell around them. The moon was big and bright.
‘It is wonderful here,’ said Mum. ‘And they won’t blame you that Mr Brook lost his temper.’
‘But he accused them of stealing his silver,’ said Bryony. ‘And implied that Mr Thimblefold was up for buying it too – which wasn’t true!’
She shook her head.
‘Listen,’ said Mum, ‘Gramps is with Josh, so how about I drive you round to the Coopers’? I’m sure they’ll still want to see you. While you’re there I could do a few deliveries and collect you afterwards?’
Bryony thought about it. Josh and Grandpa had seen to Red, so she could go right now. Meredith might be expecting her too. And surely she needed to go more than ever after what had just happened . . .
‘Okay,’ Bryony nodded. ‘Thanks, Mum. I will go.’
‘Come on, then,’ said Mum, ‘let’s get the car. It’s starting to get a bit icy.’
Mum was right. As they headed to Bluebell Wood, the roads definitely did feel more slippery, but thankfully they were still okay to drive on.
Mum stopped the car on the lane near the caravan. She told Bryony she’d wait while Bryony checked if the Coopers wanted a visitor.
‘Okay,’ Bryony nodded. She got out of the car and her feet disappeared into thick snow which went right up to her ankles. Shivering, she headed across the meadow to the caravan, past Blossom tied up under the shelter of the fir trees and draped in a huge warm blanket.
The caravan steps were also covered in snow. She walked up them, her footsteps silent as the moon shone down, and a trickle of wood smoke curled up from the little pipe chimney.
Taking a deep breath, Bryony knocked on the door, her warm breath frosting the air. She waited, and a moment later Mrs Cooper peeped out.
‘Oh, Bryony, you came,’ she said, looking surprised.
‘Um, yes,’ replied Bryony. ‘I’m so sorry about earlier at the Market.’
Mrs Cooper looked very pale in the moonlight, her eyes the most beautiful hazel.
‘Would you rather I went?’ Bryony asked.
‘No.’ Mrs Cooper shook her head. ‘It wasn’t your fault. These things, well . . . sometimes happen. And Meredith so hoped you’d come.’
Mrs Cooper now pointed across the little meadow over to the car on the lane.
‘Your parents?’ she asked.
‘Just Mum,’ said Bryony quickly. ‘She said she’d call back for me after some errands if it’s okay with you?’
Mrs Cooper nodded. ‘Oh, yes, that’ll be fine.’
Bryony turned and waved Mum off, then hurried in through the caravan door.
‘It’s so cosy!’ she cried.
‘Hooray!’ squealed Meredith, running over and giving Bryony a huge hug. The little girl then seemed very keen to show Bryony around.
On one side was a stove with a crackling fire. And just opposite were some beautifully painted cabinets. Along the back of the van, running underneath the window, was a bed on which Mr Cooper sat, sipping what smelled to Bryony like chicken soup. Beside him, Morgan knelt quietly drawing. A large book was open on the rug. Bryony guessed this was Meredith’s favourite ‘Alice’ story.
‘Will you read to me?’ asked Meredith.
‘I’d love to!’ Bryony smiled back. She was so relieved they seemed okay with her coming, and that Meredith looked much more like her bubbly little self than earlier. She was wearing fleecy pyjama leggings and several bright warm tops, the outermost being pink and very fluffy. On her feet were knitted rabbit slippers with cute white pompom tails on the back. And her whirl of dark brown hair was in a long plait ready for bed.
They settled down on the rug and Bryony started to read. As she did, Meredith snuggled up to her, quietly sucking her thumb. Not a single fidget or interruption. She clearly adored stories. Then Morgan appeared too and turned the pages at just the right moment!
When Bryony had finished a whole chapter, Mrs Cooper gave them milk she’d warmed on the stove and buns that tasted of cinnamon. They were delicious! And it was all so cosy and calm.
But then, as they ate, Bryony was sad to hear that the Coopers were thinking of moving on. She wasn’t surprised. Who could blame them after earlier? But she wished there
’d been time to make more happy memories, like this one, before they went.
‘Because you’ll mostly think badly of the place now,’ said Bryony. ‘And some people – most people – are kind.’
But even as she said these words, Bryony realised she was asking them to do it again: to believe what she was saying.
‘Ah, Bryony,’ said Mr Cooper. ‘We know you’re kind.’
‘Otherwise our Meredith,’ Mrs Cooper added, ‘wouldn’t have chosen you as a friend. You must be a good egg if she likes you!’
‘An egg?’ snorted Meredith, suddenly getting the giggles. ‘Bryony’s not an egg!’
‘She’s a nag!’ teased Morgan, swiping Bryony’s bun.
‘Hey! Give that back!’ laughed Bryony. Even Morgan was clearly warming to her now.
But despite her smiles, Bryony was sad they wouldn’t be around for much longer. She longed to show Meredith the stables and let the twins have a go on Red. The whole family could have come to Plum Cottage for Christmas cake. And maybe told Mum how to make their dreamy buns, if it wasn’t an old secret recipe.
As they finished their milk they talked mostly about Bryony, thanks to Meredith’s never-ending questions! How she’d felt when she’d first come to Brook Dale. About her mum, her brother, and how much she missed her dad. Even now.
They also talked about Red. How brilliant he was, and how he’d helped Bryony feel part of the place. But how she’d had to give it time before things had started to feel better.
The crackle of the stove, the softly falling snow, the silvery moon at the window. . . For now that was all that mattered. How kind, thought Bryony, of the Coopers to welcome her into their home. And how ashamed she felt that Brook Dale, quite honestly, hadn’t been so welcoming back.
Heading home in the car, Bryony was thinking hard. This mystery was getting out of hand. Now the Coopers, as well as Mr Thimblefold, had to clear their names. And the only way to do this was by finding out who took the silver.
Snowflakes, Silver and Secrets Page 7
