by Lauren Child
‘Yes, the film star being honoured this year. . .’ said Brant.
They both looked at Ruby.
‘Margo Bardem,’ said Ruby. ‘Her career began in the Scarlet Pagoda as an assistant hairdresser and make-up artist, she got spotted and stepped in to replace the main actress in her debut movie The Cat that Got the Canary, produced and directed by George Katsel, who later married Bardem. It was both filmed on location in the Scarlet Pagoda and premiered there in 1952.’
‘Ruby, you are like a sitting encyclopedia,’ said her mother, clapping her hands together.
‘I read the film festival publicity flyer,’ said Ruby.
‘I just hope we raise enough money to rescue that beautiful building,’ said Brant. ‘Can you imagine a Twinford without the Scarlet Pagoda?’
‘I’m not sure the wrecking ball wouldn’t be such an unwelcome idea for that old pile,’ said Mrs Digby, as she entered the room with a large casserole dish.
‘Oh Mrs Digby!’ exclaimed Sabina. ‘You surely don’t mean that.’
‘When you’ve grown up in a rotten falling-down old shack during the great depression, I tell you, you set your sights on something wipe-clean and fungus free.’
Sabina was speechless.
‘I’ll tell you something for nothing,’ said Mrs Digby, heaving the huge dish onto the table, ‘you wouldn’t get me stepping one little toe into that Scarlet Pagoda, no siree, thank you for asking.’
‘Why ever not?’ asked Sabina.
‘The spirit world is why not,’ said Mrs Digby folding her arms.
‘You’re not serious Mrs D? You surely don’t believe that old hokum about hauntings?’ said Brant.
‘Call it what you will, don’t expect me to be there.’
‘But you love those old movies,’ said Ruby. ‘Just think, you might even get the chance to meet some of your screen idols.’
‘I’m not risking it,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘I might find myself face to face with the paranormal.’
‘Are you for real?’ said Ruby. ‘You actually believe in all that?’
‘I most certainly do,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘Kicking and screaming is the only way you’ll drag me in there.’
‘So we can’t interest you in a free ticket to the costume show tomorrow night?’ asked Sabina.
‘You most certainly can’t,’ said Mrs Digby.
‘So who on earth should we invite at this short notice?’ said Sabina.
‘Ask Elaine Lemon,’ said Brant.
‘Good idea,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘She’d scare the pants off any ghoul going.’
At which point the telephone rang.
Ruby left the table and answered the phone. ‘Hello Clance,’ she said. He often phoned during supper: he couldn’t seem to get the hang of the fact that not everyone ate at the exact same time as his family.
‘Hey, how’d you know it was me?’ said Clancy.
‘Because I’m midway through dinner and you often call when I’m midway through dinner,’ replied Ruby. ‘It’s a probability thing. The likelihood is it will be you – you or Mrs Lemon.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you want me to hang up?’
‘Not now you’ve already interfered with my whole digestive process.’
‘Oh, OK.’
‘So why did you call?’
‘I wondered if you had got my message?’
‘What message?’
‘The one I left in the tree.’
‘What did it say?’
‘Call me immediately.’
‘So obviously not.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
‘So why did you want me to call?’
‘To see if you might wanna meet up, no big deal or anything.’
‘Why didn’t you leave a message on my answer machine?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Pause. ‘Force of habit?’
‘Ruby honey,’ called her mother, ‘could you maybe replace the receiver and come back to the table. It’s such a shame when the family dinner is interrupted by the telephone. And it plays crazy potatoes with one’s digestion.’
‘You hear that Clance, now you’ve upset my mom’s digestive process too.’
‘Extend my apologies,’ said Clancy.
‘You can extend them yourself if you wanna come over?’
‘Nah, I feel like sitting up a tree.’
‘Look, how about I see you in twenty minutes on Amster Green. I need to get out, stretch my legs and get some decent conversation.’
‘I thought your folks wouldn’t let you out on your own?’ said Clancy.
‘I’ll bring Bug,’ said Ruby. ‘You know what they say, you’re never alone with a husky at your side.’
‘Who says that?’ muttered Clancy as he hung up the phone.
Ruby sat down at the table.
‘What’s that on your face?’ asked her mother. She was peering at her now, fork in hand, studying her daughter’s face. ‘Is it a bruise?’
‘Probably dirt,’ said Ruby. ‘I might go take a shower.’
But Sabina reached out her hand and began rubbing at Ruby’s cheek.
‘Ow,’ cried Ruby.
‘That’s not dirt,’ confirmed Sabina. ‘You’re probably anaemic, people bruise easily when they’re anaemic – and they become anaemic when their body is under stress.’
‘OK, OK, I promise I’ll stop being anaemic if you lay off rubbing my face,’ said Ruby.
‘A good healthy diet is what you need young lady. Plenty of. . . what’s it called, Brant.’
‘Iron,’ said Ruby.
‘I’ll order some in,’ said Sabina dropping her napkin and leaving the table. ‘Tomorrow is the Scarlet Pagoda costume benefit and I don’t want you looking like one of the exhibits.’
Chapter 6.
A stroll with a husky
RUBY WAS RIGHT – her parents did agree to let her take a stroll with Bug at her side. It was of course ‘down to that dog’ that Ruby was alive at all.
If he hadn’t come running back to alert the fire crew to her plight then she wouldn’t be lying here today with a broken arm, injured foot and badly singed hair. Sabina had told all her friends the story of their hero dog. This account of Ruby’s rescue was true, of course, minus a few key details.
Ruby and her ever-loyal husky set off down Cedarwood Drive and at the corner turned right and joined Amster Street. On her way to the green, Ruby dropped by Marty’s minimart to pick up some bubblegum. Ordinarily she would carry a pack with her, but she had been unusually careless and her dad had found her stash of Hubble-Yum under the couch while she was in hospital getting her arm fixed up and had disposed of it. Her father was waging a one-man war against bubblegum.
Ruby came out of the minimart and noticed some kid with a styled-unstyled look – he was standing there with two other boys but he sort of looked like he might be waiting for someone. When she passed him he half turned around like he might say something to her, but he didn’t. Instead he jumped on his skateboard and grabbed the bumper of a passing truck and was carried off into the traffic.
It was kind of impressive – dangerous, sure – but practical in a cool sort of way. Skitching was something she needed to try.
When Ruby reached the green she looked up at the old oak and searched for some sign of Clancy. She could see the bike that had once been hers and was now his, but he was not visible. She whistled – two short, one long – and immediately the whistle came back, one long two short. He was already up high in the tree’s branches.
Bug lay down on the grass – he knew the deal – and he waited patiently while Ruby set about climbing. It took longer than usual, what with her arm trouble, but she was a good climber so she made it OK.
Ruby and Clancy Crew sat side by side on the old oak’s highest sitting branch. From here they looked down on Amster Green and its surrounding shops. The leaves were so plentiful that no one could see them from the sidewalk. The two of them used the tree not
only for hanging out in, but also as a good place to hide coded messages for one another. Even if someone was smart enough to find the origami notes in the knots of the tree’s bark, they certainly wouldn’t be smart enough to decipher the ciphers.
The sun was still hot considering the time of day, so the foliage provided welcome shade. Though school summer vacation was nearly over, there was no sign of summer’s end or of fall’s beginning anywhere on the horizon – not a frost-curled leaf or a gusty breeze. Certainly no one yet believed that it was ever going to be any different, any cooler. It seemed no Twinforder could remember back to when the weather had been anything less than 30 degrees. It had been a remarkable summer. The best of it had meant beach time and barbecues and long social evenings, swimming in garden pools and hanging out late into the night, but no one could deny that this had come at a cost – the heat-wave had exhausted the city and left forests ravaged by fire. The fire services had been on red alert and crime had been a little higher too, something to do with the temperature boiling people’s minds, or so the psychologists said.
‘My mom doesn’t think the weather’s ever gonna break,’ said Clancy.
‘Yeah, well, your mom’s wrong,’ said Ruby.
‘Well, duh, of course I know that. I’m just making the point that it’s hard to imagine, it just seems so normal, being hot all the time, never having to remember a sweater, for instance.’
‘Yeah,’ said Ruby, ‘but any day now it’s gonna break and when it does, you’ll be needing more than a sweater.’ She itched her broken arm by sliding the yellow pencil under the cast and moving it from side to side.
‘I can’t wait that long,’ said Clancy.
‘Chew on some ice or something,’ suggested Ruby. ‘Oh boy, will I ever be glad to get this cast removed.’
‘When are they hacking it off?’ asked Clancy, who was hoping to be there when the nurse cut through the plaster with the electric saw thing.
‘Tomorrow,’ said Ruby. ‘They warned me when I had it put on that my arm might be all withered and hairy and not the same as the other one.’
Clancy stared at her, his mouth forming an O.
‘Don’t look so excited about it,’ said Ruby.
‘I wasn’t looking excited, I was looking interested. I mean mismatched arms – could be cool.’
‘Well, the hairiness is temporary.’
‘Shame,’ said Clancy. ‘Hey, have you been watching that show?’
‘What show?’
‘That illusionist guy, Darnley Rex,’ said Clancy. ‘He has a new show, you know, magic and stuff. Boy does it ever do your head in.’
‘It’s all about planting an idea in your brain. It’s all done with words, that’s what you gotta remember,’ said Ruby. ‘Before you know it, they have convinced your mind to think you are seeing something else or even are something else and the next thing you know you are clucking like a chicken.’
‘I sorta wish it was magic, though,’ said Clancy. ‘I mean I know it isn’t, but wouldn’t it be crazy if it was?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Ruby, ‘if Darnley Rex could get the whole country clucking like chickens then he could take over the world. Not a happy prospect.’
A minute passed before Clancy ventured, ‘So have they given you a medal yet?’
‘Who?’ said Ruby.
‘Spectrum, have Spectrum awarded you a medal?’
‘A medal for what?’ said Ruby.
Clancy looked puzzled. ‘For nearly being burnt alive in a forest fire, of course.’
‘Why would they do that? People don’t just go around getting medals for not getting burnt alive in forest fires, otherwise everyone and anyone would get one.’
‘OK, not just for not getting burnt alive, but how about all that other stuff you did?’
‘That’s what I’m paid for, that is my actual job,’ said Ruby. She paused. ‘Though, maybe not for much longer,’ she added.
‘What?’
‘Spectrum. They’ve taken me off field training indefinitely.’
‘Indefinitely?’ mouthed Clancy.
‘Well, unless I take this test and pass it – fail and I’m out, stuck at a desk for the rest of my career, like old Froghorn. It’s kind of a last-chance-saloon kind of deal.’
‘You’re not serious!’ said Clancy. He was flapping his arms now. ‘You cracked that whole wolf case! They should be giving you a medal, to show their appreciation, a job well done and all that, like in the army, not—’
‘Look Clance,’ Ruby interrupted, ‘for A: this ain’t the army, and for B: it wasn’t a job well done. I’m bummed about it too, but I think what you gotta understand is that it isn’t really a thanking-with-a-medal-type situation – I mean there’s no “thanking” in secret agenting. You do well, you get another assignment; you louse up, you get your marching orders – that’s about it. I pulled it outta the bag with the whole code-breaking-and-case-solving thing, but I loused up my survival training, nearly got myself killed, and worse – lost what was left of the Cyan perfume. It’s not medal-worthy stuff. So. . . I guess I’m lucky I’m even getting another chance.’
She didn’t feel lucky though. She felt royally hard done by. Clancy sucked hard on his drink. ‘What’s the test?’
‘No idea.’
‘But you’ll pass it, right?’
‘I sure hope so,’ said Ruby. She didn’t want to think about what she’d do if she got kicked out of the Spectrum Field Agent Training Programme. Sure, she got a big buzz out of code breaking, but she lived for the thrill of working as a bona fide all-action agent.
They climbed back down the tree. Ruby was quicker on the descent, though when she made the final jump from the low branch to the ground she stumbled and found she was unable to steady herself. She thumped down on the grass and landed awkwardly on her shoulder.
‘Rube, you sure you’re ready to go back to work?’ asked Clancy.
‘Sure I’m sure, never felt better, considering.’ She dusted herself down.
‘Well, that’s great Rube, but have you considered that this traumatic event may have had a traumatic impact on you? Subconscious and all – but there nonetheless?’
‘Have you been reading your Aunt Tatum’s psychology books again?’
‘I’m just saying.’
‘Clancy, you’re over-thinking stuff. I am totally AOK, except for I have a very itchy and possibly hairy arm.’
‘I hate to be the one to notice, but your balance is a little off too, like you’re not so sure of yourself,’ remarked Clancy.
‘My balance is good, better than good – great. It’s just this plaster cast throwing me off.’
Clancy looked at her hard. ‘If you say so Rube, then I believe you.’
He didn’t believe her, not for a minute. Ruby knew that, but she didn’t want to discuss it further – talking about this kind of stuff was fine when it related to other people, in fact she found it fascinating. Talking about this stuff in relation to her was very tedious.
When she got back home she went straight up to her room and on up to the roof where she could sit in private and think her own thoughts undisturbed. What she was thinking about was the Spectrum test. What would it be? Survival? Agility? Strength?
And what would happen if she failed?
It was too awful to contemplate.
She stared up into the starlit sky and searched for meteors. It was the end of the season but she couldn’t help looking and Ruby’s patience knew few bounds. It was like a sort of meditation, looking up into the infinity above her, and it allowed her to think. She heard the soft padding feet of her dog.
‘Hey there boy,’ she scratched him behind the ears. ‘What’s next for old Ruby Redfort do you think?’ She looked at the husky like he might answer back.
Three cases and five months into her agent career and she already felt like she had always done the job – she certainly wasn’t ready to give it up.
She thought back to the past month’s events – the
meeting with the Australian, her close encounter with the perfumer Lorelei. . . there was more to that whole conspiracy than she could fathom. Why had the Australian woman commissioned Lorelei to steal the Cyan scent? What was she planning to do with it? Where were they now? What did they really want and when would they resurface? Perhaps never, though this seemed unlikely – in every thriller she had ever read, the evil genius always came back for a curtain call.
Ruby found herself actually longing for this to be the case for these two, and she wished with a strange hope that it would be sooner rather than later. . . her curiosity made her want it so.
As Ruby gazed up at the dark sky, hand on Bug’s warm head, she heard distant sirens, lots of them, drifting through the night air from downtown Twinford. They sounded like a warning cry of things to come. And as Ruby listened, another alarm sounded in her mind, and she was suddenly almost able to hear LB’s voice, the words sharp and unequivocal – ‘Too much curiosity can be fatal.’
It was a warning Ruby had been given on many occasions and had always ignored. Would she heed it this time?
History suggested not.
High
above the
howling sirens. . .
. . .above the slow-turning red and white lights of emergency vehicles, a tiny figure walked across the barely illuminated sky. He trod the air between two colossal buildings, his feet feeling the invisible path, skywalking.
The sirens and lights were not for him. Further down the street, a building was burning.
Well, it was none of his concern.
When he had crossed the void he stepped lightly onto the rooftop and vanished as if he were a mere figment of the imagination.
Chapter 7.
The wake-up call
RUBY REDFORT WOKE TO THE SOUND OF THE TELEPHONE. At least, she thought it was a telephone. She stumbled out of bed and staggered to her feet. But she couldn’t seem to locate the ringing. She had a lot of phones – a whole collection of them. One shaped like a shell, one a lobster, another a squirrel in a tux. There was also a donut, a hamburger, a few shaped like telephones, and a whole lot more.
As Ruby scanned the room, trying to work out where exactly the noise was coming from, it slowly dawned on her that the sound was no ringing phone and in fact was almost certainly emanating from her watch, which was tucked away in her desk drawer. The watch was no ordinary Timex, Ingersol or Swiss. This watch was custom made, multifunctional, radio equipped, and though often referred to as a Rescue Watch, its official title was the Spectrum Escape Watch. It had once belonged to Bradley Baker when he was a kid.
