The Battle for Perfect

by Helena Duggan

  She shivered and hugged her elbows close as she walked to her bike. Using the sleeve of her fluffy fleece top, she dried the saddle, and had already climbed onboard before noticing the piece of paper wrapped round her handlebars.

  It was soggy from the damp morning, the blue copybook lines heavier in places. Gently she unrolled the paper, not wanting to tear it.

  A message was written in red pen; the letters leaked a little on the page.

  Violet shivered; both the note and the cold rattled her bones. She reread the words over and over again, trying to make some sense of them. Town is in immense trouble and this time you won’t win.

  The words played round her mind as she cycled through the quiet morning streets towards Wickham Terrace. If you really want to help me, please, you must all leave.

  She gasped, remembering the last words she’d said before entering her house last night after she’d seen the raven: she’d told Tom she wanted to help him. Could the note be from him? From Tom? It was written in the same way he spoke, using big words she’d never be able to put into a sentence.

  Violet pulled on her brakes outside Boy’s front door. The screech of rubber shattered the peaceful morning and a cat scurried away from her.

  She climbed off her bike and picked a few pebbles from the road, launching them at Boy’s window. Her aim wasn’t great and it took some minutes of frustration before a few reached their target, ricocheting off the glass. Moments later the curtains shook and Boy rubbed his eyes as he peered out.

  Violet pointed to the door and was standing impatiently on the threshold of number 135 as it opened. She swept past him inside, the note still in her fist.

  “What are you doing here so early?” Boy croaked, plonking himself down at the kitchen table.

  “I thought you loved early mornings!” Violet said, sitting on the chair opposite.

  “That was the old me! I’m getting used to lie-ins now, especially on Saturdays. There better be a good reason for this,” he grumbled.

  Violet passed Boy the handwritten note.

  “It was on my bike this morning.” She nodded as he read.

  “This is what you woke me up for?” Boy sounded annoyed.

  “No, there’s more…” She grabbed the Tribune , folded at the edge of the table, and opened it on the photo of Dr Joseph Bohr. “Remember Anna saw Tom the night before last… Well I went back to the house where she’d seen him—”

  “Violet…” Boy sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I told you to leave things alone!”

  “I haven’t finished yet,” she pleaded, willing him to hear her out. “Anna was with me. We found a walking stick with Dr Bohr’s name on it – he’s one of the missing scientists.” She pointed to the picture. “It has to mean something!”

  Boy looked confused.

  “He’s been kidnapped! Five of them are missing now. Dad says they are some of the greatest minds in the world, and someone has taken them and we don’t know why and then I find that stick, Boy! I think something really bad might be happening in Town!”

  “Like what, Violet?”

  “How do I know, Boy? Like something bad!”

  Boy raised his eyebrows.

  “Okay, well maybe…some crazy person is forcing the scientists to make a bomb or a machine that sucks all the oxygen out of the air, or something that makes everyone’s skin itch for ever so people have no other choice but to scratch it all off!” She threw her hands into the air. “It could be anything, Boy – how do I know?”

  “You’re the one sounding like a crazy person now.” He smiled.

  “Very funny!”

  “Seriously, Violet, you think whoever kidnapped the scientists brought them here, to Town? Why would they do that when they could take them anywhere in the whole world?”

  “Well I don’t know that either, Boy, but I do know we found evidence that Joseph Bohr was in the same house that Anna saw Tom go into only the other day…”

  “So you think Tom kidnapped the scientists? Really, Violet!” Boy sneered, shaking his head.

  “I know it sounds crazy but how else do you explain the walking stick? And then last night I thought Tom was in our yard so I told him I wanted to help him, and then this morning I get a note on my bike, one that says, ‘If you really want to help me…’” She pointed to the curled piece of paper. “It can’t all be a coincidence. I’ve been up all night…I think…”

  She stopped rambling, falling quiet as her mind caught up with her mouth. Her dad’s words ran round her head: Think before you speak, pet.

  “You think what, Violet?” Boy urged, his forehead creased.

  “If I say it, you won’t be mad?”

  “Well I don’t know what you’re about to say!”

  “Just don’t be mad…promise,” she pleaded.

  Boy crossed his fingers, waving them around in front of her. “I promise,” he smirked.

  “Hey, that’s not fair,” she argued.

  “Why not? I’ve seen you do it loads. You’re not exactly good at hiding things, Violet!”

  She blushed.

  “Just tell me,” he sighed, impatient now.

  “I think Tom left me the note. I think he’s trying to warn us to get out of Town. I don’t think he’s bad, I think he’s good, Boy!”

  “But if you think he’s good, tell me why he would kidnap those scientists? You’re making no sense!”

  “Because someone is forcing him to do it!”

  “Forcing him? Like who? Edward and George are locked up! This is sounding very far-fetched, Violet!”

  “I don’t know, maybe Powick, or maybe Edward and George are behind it all somehow even though they’re locked up! If Tom was bad and doing all this on his own, he wouldn’t leave a note, would he?”

  “You don’t know Tom left that note or that those scientists are even in Town! You’ve just made all this up in your head!” Boy sounded frustrated. “There could be lots of explanations for the walking stick being in that house. Iris was a friend of that doctor’s – maybe he gave her the stick years ago and she lost it or something. Think about it – how could Tom kidnap five scientists on his own? And if he was planning something, why would he warn you about it? He knows you’d tell me and all he’s ever wanted to do is hurt my family…”

  “But don’t you see, that’s what I mean, Boy. He’s good, just like Macula said. He warned me because he knew I’d tell you and William and he doesn’t want you both to get hurt…”

  “If he was good he wouldn’t have killed Mam!” Boy half shouted, his voice cracked.

  Violet fell silent for a moment. She could almost touch his pain. She looked down at her hands, then back up at her friend.

  “But he didn’t,” she whispered gently. “I was there. It was Powick.”

  Boy fell silent now too, his face flushed as he fidgeted with the note she’d handed him.

  “Who’s ‘the pair’?” he asked after a little while.

  “What do you mean ‘the pair’?”

  “In the note. It says, ‘you won’t stop the pair’. If Tom wrote the letter then he can’t mean himself, unless he’s even weirder than I thought. So who are the pair?”

  “Oh, um—” Violet hadn’t thought about that.

  “Anyway, I don’t believe Tom would help us,” Boy interrupted before she could come up with something. “I think it’s a trick. I bet Conor Crooked or someone put that note on your bike and they’re probably laughing at you right now!”

  Conor was the school bully. He’d calmed down a bit since his kidnapping a few months previously, but this was still the type of thing he might do. Boy was right – even Violet had to admit her mind had really run away with itself this time. The note could be from anyone.

  Boy passed the paper back over and Violet huffed as she folded it into her pocket.

  “Anyway,” he mocked, “isn’t it all a bit obvious? It’s like the plot of a really bad film. Town’s in trouble, you won’t save it. Oh and by the way…leave before the twen
ty-third!”

  “What do you mean?” Violet asked.

  “Oh you’ve forgotten already, have you? The twenty-third’s my birthday!”

  The twenty-third was Boy’s birthday, and Tom’s too – how could she have missed that detail in the note? Surely the date was just a coincidence though. She couldn’t imagine the twins’ birthday could have anything to do with Town being in trouble!

  The twenty-third was two days away. Was something really awful going to happen to Town then, or was it all just a stupid trick?

  A niggling feeling ate away at her.

  “I think we should go to the Outskirts!” she blurted out. “That’s where Tom lived before and it’d be a good hiding place to keep a scientist.”

  “Not this again, Violet!”

  “But we need to find out if anything is going on. What if we do nothing and then something bad happens? It’s just a trip to the Outskirts, and if we find nothing then that’s great, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t want to, Violet.” Boy looked upset and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t want to remember that nurse or Tom or what they did. I don’t want to go back there!”

  “I know, Boy, and I’ve tried not to talk to you about Tom or Powick for ages. But maybe you can’t ignore those memories for ever. My mam says if you push things to the back of your mind, they normally come out somewhere else. She said it’s better to feel the pain, as feeling it helps it to go away. And what if…what if your mam was right, Boy, what if Tom is good?”

  “You never give up.” He sighed.

  “You don’t usually either.”

  They both went quiet. Violet stood and walked to the window, easing back the net curtain. The street was quiet, morning only just beginning to wake the Townsfolk.

  “People are still asleep,” she whispered. “We could be back before anyone even notices we’re gone.”

  “You want to go now?” Boy asked.

  “Well I didn’t come over just to talk about it. We only have a few days!”

  “I’m telling you, this is just your imagination. Sometimes I wish I had the Archers’ glasses to steal some of it from you!”

  “Okay, well prove it’s just my imagination then.” Violet turned and planted her hands on her hips, staring straight at him. “I dare you!”

  Boy’s face softened and a small smirk played round his lips.

  “That’s not fair,” he replied.

  “You owe me a dare,” she stated, “so this is it. I dare you to come to the Outskirts with me. Prove that this is all in my mind!”

  Boy didn’t respond for a minute. Then he quickly stood up and slipped into the hallway. Violet listened as his feet crept up the stairs and across the floor of his room above.

  She walked to the cupboard and had taken out two blue, chipped, cereal bowls and two equally battered silver spoons when he arrived back, changed out of his green-checked pyjamas.

  “We’d better eat breakfast. Can’t have an adventure on an empty stomach.” She smiled, grabbing the cereal packet and a pint of milk.

  “This is not an adventure, Violet, this is just you being bored or something. I’m only going so I can prove you wrong! The Committee searched the Outskirts already. There’s nothing there!”

  “Yeah, but you know they’re adults and adults miss everything, even when it’s right under their toes!”

  “Under their noses!” Boy snorted, swallowing a spoonful of cereal.

  “Well, under their toes makes more sense,” Violet said, huffing over her bowl of freshly poured cornflakes.

  The pair ate quickly and quietly, then headed outside. Boy grabbed his bicycle and was already near the footbridge before Violet managed to mount her saddle. Boys! She gave chase and had almost caught up to him by the time they reached the Ghost Estate and pedalled inside. Both slowed their pace as they rattled over the potholed road towards the grassy hill.

  They dropped their bikes at the bottom and began the climb, a little breathless. They passed the lone lamp post at the top and arrived at the graveyard wall without uttering a single word between them.

  “I’m sure I put him there!” A voice carried through the early morning mist.

  The pair stopped. Violet glanced at Boy; he shrugged and ducked down a little behind the wall.

  A short, stout figure was hunched over a tomb as though trying to get a glimpse inside. Iris Archer muttered as the edges of her black knitted shawl caught the breeze.

  What was she doing here?

  Iris was William’s mam and Boy’s granny. She was old, white-haired and known for being a bit odd. It wasn’t the first time she’d been caught talking to herself.

  Violet grabbed Boy’s elbow as he moved to push open the metal turnstile.

  “No, please.” She shook her head. “Iris will stop us going to the Outskirts.”

  The old woman’s ramblings grew louder as she walked up and down the path dividing the cemetery in two. She seemed to be growing frustrated and kept hitting her forehead with the heel of her hand.

  “But if you put him there, why isn’t he there now, Iris? Think, woman, think!” she scolded herself.

  “What’s she doing?” Boy whispered.

  Violet ducked further down behind the wall, tugging Boy with her as his grandmother turned in their direction.

  “You put him in that tomb, Iris! An animal maybe…yes, maybe an animal ate him. But surely there’d be bones? All his friends from Hegel, all of them gone. He vowed revenge. Oh, what have you done?”

  Violet froze, her fingers pinching Boy’s forearm. The old woman was talking about Hegel, the same university the missing scientists had worked at. What was she so worried about and what was she looking for?

  Iris’s long, frizzy hair fell over her eyes as she stopped and peered through a large crack in the lid of another tomb. She pointed a torch through the gap to light the darkness inside. Then she shook her head and mumbled something else before moving on to continue her search.

  “Looks like she’s lost something.” Boy seemed concerned.

  Violet held firm to his elbow, willing him not to move. She didn’t want anyone to stop them going to the Outskirts – it had been hard enough getting Boy this far.

  A while later, looking a little defeated, Iris weaved her way through the gravestones towards the back wall where Violet and Boy knew there was an entrance to a tunnel that led underground to Archer and Brown – they had used it themselves back when they were trying to stop the Archer Brothers. Iris eased down stiffly onto her knees before lowering herself feet first into the hole in the earth, disappearing bit by bit.

  “Iris said Hegel!” Violet turned to Boy as they entered the graveyard a few minutes after his granny had left. “That’s the university those scientists went to. The ones that are missing! She must be searching for something to do with them.”

  “I already told you she knew the doctor,” Boy replied. “Maybe she was looking for his walking stick, the one you found at that house. I knew there’d be an explanation! Maybe that scientist gave her the stick as a present years ago and now he’s missing, she’s afraid she’s lost it! Old people get sentimental like that.”

  “And you give out to me for jumping to conclusions!” Violet smirked. “Even if that was true, why would Iris be looking for the stick in a graveyard, and this early in the morning?”

  “Because she’s old and old people forget where they put things all the time!”

  “But she kept saying ‘him ’, Boy, and she talked about bones. I don’t think she was looking for a walking stick! And why wouldn’t she go back to Town the normal way through the Ghost Estate? I haven’t heard of anyone using that tunnel since Perfect.”

  “Going through the tunnel is probably quicker and she’s an early riser. See, everything explained!” Boy smiled as he meandered through the gravestones, looking for the tomb that led to the Outskirts. “Let’s just get this dare over with and be back for lunch. I’m starving already.”

  “You’re always
hungry!” Violet whispered, following behind.

  Goose pimples peppered her skin as she imagined all the dead people that lay under her feet right now, their forgotten lives marked by broken crosses and unkept gravestones.

  Boy stopped at the old stone tomb that marked the tunnel to the Outskirts. Violet shivered, remembering the fear she’d felt months before as she hid with Anna, watching Powick, Tom and Hugo descend down the steps into the ancient underground passage.

  The rectangular tomb was about hip high, a large stone slab lid concealing the secrets inside. A quote from Quintus Horatius Flaccus, who Violet now knew to be a really old poet, was engraved on the side.

  “O FORTUNE, CRUELLEST OF HEAVENLY POWERS, WHY MAKE SUCH GAME OF THIS CRUEL LIFE OF OURS?”

  She remembered standing in almost the same spot with Jack, trying to figure out how to open the entrance. It was Jack who spotted that the word “game” in the quote was raised out from the rest of the text.

  Violet hunkered down on her heels and pushed on the four protruding letters. The ground rumbled and shook as a loud scraping sound filled the air. The narrow front panel of the tomb disappeared slowly into the earth, revealing steps leading underground.

  She ventured inside, looking back at Boy as he hesitated.

  “I’m really not sure about this, Violet. Can’t we just leave it alone?” he whispered.

  “Please, Boy, I promise we won’t stay long. If there’s nothing to find, we’ll come straight back. Anyway, it’s a dare – you can’t back out!”

  Her friend sighed before ducking inside. He pushed past her on the steps and stopped on the flagstone floor below, waiting.

  Quickly Violet closed the tomb, plunging the tunnel into total darkness. She reached for the rough earth wall and used it to guide herself down the remaining steps to her friend.

  Suddenly the brown clay walls of the tunnel lit up. Violet jumped.

  “I came prepared.” Boy smiled, waving around a small torch.