Breaking News

by Jacqueline Harvey

  Kensy raised her eyebrows at Autumn, whose cheeks still looked as though they’d been set alight. ‘He’s never had a girlfriend, you know.’

  Autumn groaned and covered her face with her hands. ‘Can you forget I said anything? We’re way too young for all that, anyway.’

  ‘For now.’ Kensy grinned. ‘Come on, I’m starving and the shepherd’s pie smells delicious.’

  The girls joined the queue behind Harper and Inez, who were deep in conversation about an upcoming debating competition. Sachin and Dante were further ahead talking about football, which Kensy kept having to remind herself meant soccer in England. Dante, it seemed, was a Chelsea fan while Sachin followed Manchester United. Both were arguing passionately about last night’s game.

  Kensy reached the head of the queue, where Mrs Trimm, the chief dinner lady, was serving up plates of food.

  ‘Hello, dear. I heard you got yourself a bump on the head in English class, of all places,’ the woman said sympathetically.

  Kensy was surprised at how fast news travelled around the school. ‘I’m fine, really,’ she replied, putting on a brave face.

  ‘We’re a caring school, my love. If there’s anything I can do to make life that little bit easier, you just let me know.’ Elva Trimm gave the girl a wink along with an extra-large helping of pie and lots of melted cheese from the top of the mashed potato.

  ‘That’s very kind, thank you,’ Kensy said. Mrs Trimm’s smile was like a warm hug on a chilly day.

  She and Autumn took their lunch and made their way over to sit with Carlos and Max, who had saved them seats.

  ‘If I had a grandmother, I’d want her to be just like Mrs Trimm,’ Kensy announced, setting her tray on the table.

  Elva Trimm watched as Kensy sat down opposite her brother. The woman had been at the school such a long time now. She was due to retire but could never quite bring herself to do it. Eric Lazenby appeared at the counter. He’d been around as long as Elva.

  ‘Lovely kids, those two,’ Eric said with a grin.

  ‘So like their dad, it’s uncanny,’ Elva said, and sniffled into her hanky.

  Eric gave the woman’s arm a squeeze. ‘They’ll be fine with us, love. You know they will.’

  True to his word, Song was waiting outside the school gate, with Wellie and Mac sitting like Roman statues in a patch of afternoon sunshine. The temperature hadn’t fallen too low just yet, although the West Highland terriers were again wearing their tartan coats. Children spilled through the gates in all directions.

  Song squinted into the distance and spotted the twins walking towards him with their friends Autumn and Carlos.

  ‘Oh dear, Miss Kensington. You are having a horrible run of luck,’ the man said, clucking his tongue. ‘Mr MacGregor telephoned to let me know about the accident. How are you feeling?’

  Kensy shrugged. ‘Okay, I guess. It’s not too big a bump.’ The girl touched her forehead and winced slightly. She was probably going to have a bruise the size of Botswana.

  ‘Have you heard from Fitz?’ Max asked. He tried to keep his voice light for his sister’s sake.

  ‘Not yet, Master Maxim, though no news could be good news.’ Song paused, as if thinking about how to phrase what he wanted to say next. ‘Shall we go straight home? I have made scones for afternoon tea and there is jam and cream too. You are welcome to join us,’ he said to Carlos and Autumn. ‘I am sure that Miss Kensington and Master Maxim would enjoy some company other than me – I am old and not so much fun.’

  ‘I would love to, but I have a piano lesson,’ Autumn said, taking her cue to leave.

  ‘And it’s football training for me,’ Carlos added.

  The pair swiftly said their goodbyes and headed off.

  ‘Please, can we see Dame Spencer?’ Max said, turning to the butler.

  Song shook his head. ‘I am afraid she is out of the office this afternoon. We will go another time.’

  The children shared a look. Neither of them believed a word of it, but there was no point arguing.

  The man called Wellie and Mac to attention and, together, the odd group walked home. Song did his best to engage Kensy in conversation, asking her all manner of details about her unfortunate incident. Max lagged behind. He felt edgy. Ever since Kensy had almost been run down by the taxi, he found himself paying particular attention to the vehicles. Trouble was, they were everywhere. Max seemed to have added an extra layer of foreboding to his already uneasy feelings about his parents and he didn’t like it one bit.

  When they reached number thirteen, the children went upstairs to get changed while Song set off to prepare their afternoon tea.

  ‘He’s lying, you know,’ Kensy said to her brother in the upstairs hall. ‘Why doesn’t he want us to meet her?’

  Max shrugged. ‘Who knows anything these days?’

  The children disappeared into their rooms and Kensy quickly changed out of her uniform. She hurried back downstairs, where Wellie and Mac were sitting in the front hall, still dressed in their coats. Kensy glanced at the entrance and realised that the broken vase had been replaced by a tall porcelain lighthouse, its beacon clear inside the top level. She wondered if …

  Kensy looked at the dogs. Their leads were hanging on a coat hook by the door. Without a second thought, she grabbed the leads and snapped them onto their collars. ‘Do you want to go and see Dame Spencer?’ she whispered.

  The pups wagged their tails and danced about at her feet.

  ‘I’m just taking the dogs for a walk,’ Kensy said out loud, though quieter than she usually would. She looked at Wellie and Mac and shrugged. ‘See? I told someone – it’s not my fault if they didn’t hear me.’

  The girl unlocked the front door and tiptoed outside, making sure to shut it gently behind her.

  Minutes later, Max trotted downstairs to the kitchen, the smell of hot chocolate tantalising his nostrils. He’d heard Kensy leave her room and expected to see her at the table devouring afternoon tea.

  ‘I presume that you are a fan of jam and cream with your scones,’ Song said. He deposited a plate on the table and waited for Max to sit down.

  ‘Yes,’ the boy said distractedly. ‘Sorry, thank you.’ He looked over at Wellie and Mac’s empty baskets and wondered where the dogs had got to. They didn’t often stray far from Song.

  ‘Are you going to sit down, Master Maxim?’ Song asked, watching the boy shift his weight from one leg to the other.

  Max nodded. ‘I’m a bit cold – I’ll just get a jumper,’ the lad said, and dashed from the room. But he had no intention of doing that at all. If his instincts were correct, his sister had done something even more impulsive than usual.

  Max raced to the end of Ponsonby Terrace and turned left into John Islip Street, heading for the main road. He turned right and sprinted past a quaint pub called The White Swan, running towards the tallest building on the block. He could see the lighthouse symbol on top of it. Mrs Grigsby was right when she said that blind Freddy wouldn’t miss it.

  Gasping for air, Max peered through the glass doors and spotted his sister waiting in the reception area with Wellie and Mac. He was about to enter the building when a security guard stopped him in his tracks.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going, young man?’ he barked.

  ‘My sister and I have come to deliver Dame Spencer’s dogs,’ Max said, thinking on his feet. He pointed at the two terriers beside Kensy.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ The fellow nodded, and Max dashed inside.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he whispered to Kensy, who looked up at him in surprise. ‘And why didn’t you tell me? I would have come with you.’

  Kensy shrugged. ‘I saw an opportunity and took it. Song was never going to bring us, and I guessed Wellie and Mac would know the way. It was lucky I brought them too. The man out the front was so excited to see them and let me in without so much as a question.’

  ‘Is Dame Spencer here?’ Max asked, sitting down beside her.

  ‘Th
e receptionist didn’t say, but I assume so,’ the girl replied. ‘She told me to wait here.’

  Kensy and Max watched as a steady stream of employees entered the building and swiped themselves through a security screen that peeled back as their cards were accepted. The place was a hive of activity despite the fact it was almost the end of the workday. There were couriers dropping off deliveries and people waiting for appointments. Once, the receptionist stroppily handed a pass to someone who had left their swipe card in their office. She gave them strict instructions to return it promptly.

  Wellie and Mac sat at the children’s feet, their tails thudding in anticipation.

  ‘I know, I’m hungry too,’ Max said to the terriers. His stomach was grumbling and the thought of Song’s home-made scones was only making things worse.

  The receptionist hopped up and walked through a door behind her desk. For a building that minutes ago had been heaving with people, it was practically empty now. Max picked up a copy of the day’s newspaper from the coffee table next to them and flicked through it. There was an article about rising power prices and another about the Prime Minister, who had upset an elderly pensioner by yelling at her in a supermarket car park, apparently fuelled by a fit of road rage – just the usual stuff that made the daily news. Max turned to the section on world affairs and scoured for any mention of the rebel uprising in Africa but found nothing.

  Kensy’s eyes were everywhere. She flinched as she watched the guard at the front door dig out a wad of ear wax, which he then examined as if it were a nugget of gold. She saw a delivery driver earn the ire of the receptionist when he rushed in and dropped the parcel he was carrying so heavily on the counter it sounded as if whatever was inside was now in a thousand pieces. But it was something – or rather someone – behind the security screen that really seized the girl’s attention.

  ‘Max,’ she hissed, thumping her brother on the leg.

  ‘Ow!’ He closed the newspaper and glared at her. ‘What did you do that for?’

  ‘I just saw Fitz,’ Kensy said, her mind reeling at what this could possibly mean. Fitz was meant to be in Africa, looking for their parents. ‘Through there, on the other side of the security screen.’

  Max looked at her the way he always did when she had a theory. ‘You must have seen someone who looked like Fitz, Kens. ’

  ‘It was him. I know it was,’ she insisted. The girl marched to the security screen and stood on her tiptoes, craning her neck in an effort to see around it.

  Her brother gathered up the dog leads and joined her. Wellie and Mac danced about, wagging their tails. Unable to see a thing, Kensy turned around and pouted. It was perfect timing, really, because at that moment the disgruntled receptionist took up the broken parcel and disappeared through a side door.

  ‘Come on,’ Kensy said, running over to the reception desk.

  Max glanced about nervously as his sister jumped onto the desk and snatched up the pass she’d seen the woman return only a minute before. Kensy swiped the card and dashed through the checkpoint towards the lifts. Without a second thought, Max and the dogs hurried after her.

  Meanwhile, back at thirteen Ponsonby Terrace, Song’s favourite country tune had come to its mournful end and he was suddenly aware of how eerily quiet the townhouse was. Master Maxim was taking an awfully long time to fetch his pullover. Come to think of it, Wellington and Mackintosh had not appeared for their dinner and Miss Kensington was absent too.

  Song took a deep breath as the realisation set in. He grabbed his coat and pulled it over his shoulders. ‘Confucius says those twins are far too clever for their own good,’ he declared, and raced upstairs and out the front door.

  Kensy pushed the lift button and prayed they weren’t about to meet anyone. To the twins’ great relief, the doors opened to reveal an empty carriage.

  ‘I don’t know where you think we’re going,’ Max grumbled, following her into the lift. ‘If it was Fitz, we have no idea where he went and this building isn’t exactly small. There are thirteen storeys.’

  ‘It was Fitz. I’d know that bald head anywhere.’ Kensy swiped the pass and pressed the button to take them to the top floor. ‘And I’m not leaving until I see Dame Spencer. Shouldn’t we do everything we can to find Mum and Dad?’

  The doors slid back and the two terriers scuttled into a dimly lit hall. There was a black-and-white marble floor and timber panelling lined with portraits of men from another time. Each was illuminated by a brass picture light, which reminded Kensy of the paintings on the stairwell at Alexandria, although some were a touch more modern. It wasn’t until they reached the last one that Max stopped.

  ‘Kens,’ he whispered, pointing to the brass plaque beneath it.

  The man in the picture was handsome with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair and clear blue eyes. Apart from a small dimple in his left cheek, he could have been …

  Sharp footsteps in the hallway interrupted his thoughts and both children spun around to find Song coming towards them. He had swapped his usual black dinner jacket for a tail coat and white tie. Wellie and Mac skittered behind Max’s legs and began to growl, baring their teeth.

  ‘Good afternoon, Master Maxim, Miss Kensington,’ the butler said with a deep bow. ‘I am – Aaaachooooo!’ An almighty sneeze cut the man short, and was followed by another three in quick succession. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. ‘Please excuse me. I am dreadfully allergic to canines.’

  Max’s eyebrows jumped. ‘You’re Dame Spencer’s city butler.’

  ‘Quite right, Master Maxim. I am Sidney,’ the man sniffled. ‘At your service.’

  Kensy’s eyes widened. ‘Song didn’t tell us you were twins!’ she blurted. It was strange that he left that bit out.

  Sidney nodded. ‘Song is my younger brother by a minute and a half.’

  Kensy grinned. ‘Max is younger than me by half an hour,’ she boasted.

  ‘And she never lets me forget it,’ Max said, rolling his eyes.

  The butler chortled with understanding. ‘Well, Confucius says –’

  ‘Oh, don’t tell me you like country music too?’ Kensy said, recoiling.

  ‘No, Miss Kensington. That is ghastly stuff.’ Sidney shook his head vehemently. ‘I am a big fan of the King.’

  Kensy turned to her brother. ‘Does he mean Elvis Presley?’

  Sidney swivelled his hips and spun his left arm like a flywheel. ‘Thank you, thank you very much,’ he boomed in a deep voice.

  Kensy and Max stuffed their fists into their mouths to stop themselves from laughing as they followed their private Elvis impersonator to the end of the corridor. It was only when a female voice beckoned them to enter that Kensy began to feel slightly queasy. She found herself questioning if this had been a good idea after all.

  The butler led them into a beautifully decorated office with a vast mahogany desk and matching bookshelves behind it. There was a black marble fireplace and several comfortable-looking lounges. A colourful Chinese rug sat beneath them in the middle of the polished timber floor. ‘Ma’am, I would like to introduce Master Maxim Grey and his sister, Miss Kensington Grey,’ the man said, bowing, before retreating from the room.

  Max gulped, remembering how his father often warned them to be careful of what they wished for.

  Dame Spencer stood up from behind her desk. She was dressed in a striking navy pants suit, her soft grey hair framing an older but still very attractive face. Her piercing green eyes reminded Max of someone but he couldn’t place it.

  ‘Hello children, it’s lovely to meet you,’ she said. Her voice was clipped and perfunctory, as if she had a million other things she would rather be doing. ‘I see you’ve brought the dogs.’

  Max didn’t know whether to let them go or to hold on more tightly, and Dame Spencer didn’t help him with the decision either.

  ‘We didn’t mean to interrupt your work,’ Kensy began. ‘We just wanted to meet you and thank you for your wonderful hospitality �
� in person.’

  Max nodded. ‘Yes, thank you,’ he echoed. ‘I love your library at Alexandria. It’s amazing, especially with all those first editions. And the automaton Song showed us is incredible. We’d never seen anything like that before.’

  Cordelia’s lips began to curve into a smile but stopped halfway.

  Kensy nudged her brother to continue.

  Max looked at her and frowned. He didn’t see why it was up to him to speak, seeing as though it was Kensy who got them into this mess in the first place. ‘As soon as Fitz brings our parents back, we’ll be off to Zermatt for the winter, but perhaps we might visit you again one day,’ he said lamely.

  ‘For goodness sake, Max,’ Kensy sighed. She turned to the woman. ‘We don’t want to visit you again,’ she said plainly. ‘No offence. We were just wondering whether you had reporters in Africa who might be able to help track down our parents. We wouldn’t expect you to help us for free. Max and I have been saving up our birthday money for years and we hardly ever touch our bank accounts. Or maybe you could run a story about Mum and Dad and then more people will be on the lookout? They’re probably not the only aid workers missing …’

  Dame Spencer remained stony-faced as the girl prattled on, her lips pressed tightly in a straight line.

  Kensy was about to start up again when her brother touched her arm. ‘We’re really sorry to have bothered you, Dame Spencer,’ the boy said. ‘We should head home – to your home – and I think Wellie might have to go to the toilet.’

  All eyes turned to the pup dancing about in circles.

  ‘Oh, he just wants a cuddle.’ Dame Spencer walked around her desk and bent down to pick up the dog, cradling him in her arms. Wellie rewarded her with a tongue to the cheek. ‘I’m sorry, children, but you’ve caught me at an impossible time. I will see what I can do to help locate your parents, but I can’t promise anything.’

  There was a loud knock on the door before Song poked his head in. To say he looked sheepish was something of an understatement. ‘My apologies, ma’am. I …’