‘There’s a lady who lives in Finsbury Park. She left one of those shopping trolleys on the bus, but she’s elderly so she can’t come and collect it. Could you take it to her, Edie?’
He went to the pyramid of trolleys and pulled out a large floral one. He wheeled it into the middle of the room and stood it upright. ‘I know it’s a boring job, but I just haven’t got time today. There’s a queue of people coming in to register missing valuables and asking questions. I’ve got lots of forms to fill in. Ursula was right. There’s definitely some serious pickpocketing going on. Remember: Bee-ee vigilant, Edie.’
He pointed to a label attached to the shopping trolley. ‘The owner’s address is here.’
The shopping trolley looked weird. It was like a sack on wheels that bulged at the front, but it gave Edie an idea. It could give her the perfect cover if she was quick. The owner lived only a short bus journey from her house. She wheeled the trolley down to the Storeroom at the End and, pulling the box off the shelf, she lifted the flap of the trolley and stuffed it inside. She could just hear the high-pitched jangle of Impy’s voice, but there was no time to explain anything to her.
Vera Creech met her in the corridor. She looked irritated, as if she hadn’t expected to find Edie there, and impatiently tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear. ‘Where are you off to, Edie?’
‘I’m just running an errand for Benedict. I should be back in a couple of hours,’ Edie said.
Vera peered at the shopping trolley.
‘An old lady left it on a bus a couple of days ago. I’m taking it back to her.’
Without waiting for Vera to reply, Edie half ran down the corridor and up the stairs to the front reception. The shopping trolley bumped and rattled behind her as she headed down Baker Street. A man muttered as Edie ran over his foot, and a dog chased after it, growling and snapping at the wheels.
By the station Edie noticed a large bird with black feathers picking over a half-eaten carton of fast food in a rubbish bin. It had a row of bristles at the top of its beak. As Edie walked past it stopped and stared at her with ringed unblinking eyes. It reminded her of the crow that sat on Vera Creech’s window. She looked away and hurried past, dragging the trolley after her onto a busy Circle Line train.
*
Five stops and one change later, the bus from Finsbury Park to Alexandra Palace was packed. She could see through the flap of the shopping trolley that the box had tipped onto its side. Three boys got on board at Crouch End that Edie knew from the year above her at school.
‘Look at the old lady,’ said one, prodding his friend in the ribs and pointing at Edie. ‘Doing a bit of shoppin’?’ He shouted at Edie as if she was deaf.
Edie felt her tongue turn to stone and looked out of the window.
At last the bus slipped down the far side of Alexandra Palace and within minutes she was walking down her street.
*
It felt strange being at home alone during the day.
The kitchen smelt of burnt toast and the plates lay in an untidy pile in the sink. Bilbo, the Winters’ giant poodle, was asleep on the doormat beside the back door. He spent his days watching squirrels through the dog flap, occasionally bolting out into the garden to herd them up a tree.
When Edie came in he leapt up and stood guard at the flap as if she had caught him sleeping on the job. He looked warily at the shopping trolley, as Edie pulled out the box and set it upright. As soon as she opened the lid Impy whirred up in front of her nose. Inside the box it looked as if a tornado had blown through it. There were sugar sprinkles, Rice Krispies and raisins everywhere and several of the small jars had smashed.
‘You locked us in!’ Impy cried.
‘I had to,’ said Edie. ‘But I’ve brought you to my house.’
Impy didn’t seem to hear what she was saying. She perched right on the tip of Edie’s nose and dug her heels in. ‘You must NEVER do that again,’ she said. ‘You tipped us up and the box is a horrible mess! We all felt sick.’
Edie squinted at her. ‘I’m sorry, Impy. But look where we are!’
At last Impy lifted up into the air and looked around the kitchen. Her eyes rested on Bilbo. ‘Hrrrmph . . .’ she said grudgingly.
Edie was already tugging off the label. ‘I’ve got to go back to the office quickly so I’m going to have to hide your box. Dad must never know I’ve brought you all here.’
‘Don’t lock us in again. PLEASE,’ said Impy. ‘We won’t go anywhere, but we’re not your prisoners.’
Edie felt a flush of guilt that she had put Dad’s feelings before the flits’. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave the box open in my bedroom, but you have to stay upstairs. If Dad discovers that the box is here, I’ll be in big trouble.’
She pushed the box under her bed and left the lid wide open. The flits were already hard at work tidying up. Speckle was pushing around a small broom fashioned out of a toothbrush. The walnut was back in its cradle.
All she had to do now was take the shopping trolley back on the bus to Finsbury Park and reunite it with its owner. It shouldn’t take long if she hurried.
‘Impy,’ said Edie as she was leaving, ‘please don’t let the others out of your sight.’
‘I won’t,’ said Impy, ‘I promise.’
Chapter Fourteen
Baker Street
Found: one briefcase, one toy dog, one school bag and a jewelled bird pendant on a chain with a broken catch
W
hen Edie arrived back she made a pot of tea for everyone and took a mug up the narrow stairs to Vera Creech. She paused in the doorway as the crow that occasionally sat on the windowsill had come inside and was perched on Vera’s shoulder. Edie watched as Vera stretched her long delicate fingers to fish out a biscuit from a packet on her desk and broke off a half-moon shape. The crow pecked at the crumbs hungrily.
Edie tapped on the door to announce herself.
Vera turned quickly and the crow ruffled its feathers and hopped onto Vera’s arm. ‘Edie! You shouldn’t creep up on me like that.’
Edie put the mug on the desk. ‘Can I feed it?’
‘You can if you’re careful,’ Vera said, taking a sip of tea and pushing the packet towards her. ‘I see you’re back from your errand?’
‘Yes, it didn’t take long.’ Edie picked up a digestive biscuit and broke it into pieces.
The crow cocked its head and looked at her out of the corner of its eye. Then it jabbed at the biscuit like a drill hammer.
‘Why is he so tame?’
‘I found him near Shadwell Station in East London underneath a railway arch. His wing was damaged.’ Vera stroked his head with her long fingers. ‘He’s better now, though. I call him Shadwell because of where I found him.’
Shadwell jabbed again at the biscuit.
‘I think I saw him down by Baker Street Station,’ Edie said.
‘There’s a lot of crows in London, Edie,’ said Vera. ‘It probably wasn’t him.’
Edie stretched out her other hand so that she too could pet the bird. She let her fingers slide over the sleek, oily feathers.
‘Be careful,’ warned Vera. ‘He bites!’
At this Shadwell twisted his head round and nipped Edie’s fingers hard. Then, snatching at the last of the biscuit, he hopped back through the open window and flew off into the branches of a London plane tree. Edie hid her fingers in her pocket.
‘Funny, isn’t it? That “Bakerloo Line” box has gone missing,’ Vera said.
Edie felt cold. ‘Gone missing?’
‘Yes. Just disappeared apparently. I’ll have to tell Ursula, of course.’
A buzzer sounded.
‘That’ll be your dad summoning us to the basement.’
They went down to help Dad with the last sacks of the day. Edie laid out a briefcase, a toy dog, a school bag and a jewelled silver bird pendant on a chain with a broken catch. Her fingers still smarted from the nip Shadwell had given her. Vera was busy jotting down all the items in her notebook t
hat she would later transfer to Sherlock. Edie watched her neat hand.
Toy dog. White and fluffy. Found South Kensington.
School bag containing reading books (Beech Grove Primary School). Found Circle Line at Victoria.
When she got to the jewelled bird pendant she held it up but didn’t seem to write anything down.
‘What a pretty thing,’ she said as if to herself, and twisted the catch to mend it.
‘Right, time to go, Edie,’ Dad said, folding the last of the sacks. ‘Vera, can I leave you to lock up and put that pendant in the Cabinet of Valuables? Benedict’s already left.’
‘Of course, Mr Winter,’ Vera said. She sat down at a table in the basement to finish her notes, still holding the bird pendant.
Edie fetched her coat and within minutes they were in the ticket hall at Baker Street Station. It was rush hour and people were crowding round the tops of the escalators. As they rode down, Edie took a sharp intake of breath. She thought she could see Vera Creech below them heading towards the tunnels. She was wearing a large overcoat and an odd little pillbox hat with a feather, but Edie felt sure she had glimpsed her streak of blue hair.
‘Dad, didn’t Vera Creech stay behind to lock up?’
‘Yes. She often stays late.’ He winked at Edie. ‘I sometimes think she sleeps there!’
‘But isn’t that her down there – way ahead of us?’
They both looked down into the bustling crowds below, but Vera (or her lookalike) was nowhere to be seen.
‘Can’t have been, Edie. She’d have had to sprout wings to get here first!’ said Dad.
Chapter Fifteen
Alexandra Park Road
‘I
mpy!’ said Edie. ‘You promised.’
Nid was missing.
Impy was standing in the pool of light cast by the desk lamp and Edie could hear Dad clattering pans downstairs as he prepared dinner.
‘He must have slipped under the door.’
‘Where do you think he’s gone?’ asked Edie.
‘Probably looking for small shiny objects. Or eating Rice Krispies.’
‘We’ll have to find him.’
She emptied out her jar of hair clips that was sitting on her desk. Then she looked in her drawer among her paper clips and drawing pins.
‘Let’s try the Rice Krispies,’ Edie said and ran down to the kitchen with Impy lodged in her plait and tipped the last of the Rice Krispies into a bowl. Nid was nowhere to be seen.
‘Edie, you can’t eat breakfast now,’ said Dad. ‘We’ll be having dinner soon.’
‘I-it’s a science project,’ said Edie quickly. ‘I have to . . . er . . . find out why Rice Krispies go snap, crackle and pop.’
She pressed her ear to the bowl of cereal and tried to look as if she was undertaking a serious scientific experiment. It was a stupid excuse, but Dad was easily convinced.
‘I think you might need milk,’ he suggested.
At that moment the dog flap burst open and Bilbo shot inside as if he had been stung by a bee. Bilbo had a woolly coat like a sheep and his fluffy topknot looked slightly askew as he galloped through the kitchen and down the corridor towards the front door.
‘Those squirrels must be up to no good,’ said Dad, who was busy frying sausages. Edie guessed it wasn’t the squirrels bothering Bilbo. She had distinctly heard a high-pitched cry of ‘Yee-hah!’ as Bilbo went past.
Within seconds Bilbo had skidded into a U-turn and come clattering back down the corridor. Edie grabbed him by the collar and spotted Nid sitting right in the centre of Bilbo’s topknot. He was clutching two tufts of hair as if they were the reins of a rodeo horse, and he looked wild with excitement.
‘Nid!’ shouted Impy.
‘Yee-hah!’ said Nid again, and he pulled at the tufts of hair in an effort to goad Bilbo into another buffalo chase. Instead Bilbo sat down and began to scratch furiously at his ear and Nid’s face turned to alarm as Bilbo stood up again and started to shake himself.
‘Something’s bothering him,’ said Dad. Luckily one sausage started popping with hot grease and he turned his attention back to the pan.
Edie bent down and snatched Nid from Bilbo’s topknot and put him on the table. Still flushed with the excitement of his rodeo ride, he jumped into the sugar bowl.
Impy flitted down and stood in front of the bowl. ‘You idiot,’ she hissed. ‘Why did you run off?’
Nid ignored her and was looking at the Rice Krispies packet. He performed a double somersault off the edge of the bowl, and, using a teaspoon as a lever, he sprang over the butter dish and landed upright at the bottom of the cereal box. Pushing his whole weight against it, he made it topple over, scattering crispy ovals of rice everywhere.
Dad swung round as they cascaded to the floor. ‘Edie! Science project or not, this is too much. You’ll have to clear the whole lot up.’
Nid darted about, picking up Rice Krispies, and then carried a pile of them back to the bowl, stacked up in his arms like a set of miniature pillows.
Dad handed Edie the dustpan and brush. ‘Let me know when you’re done.’
He carried a plate of sausages, toast and beans down the corridor to the sitting room and Edie heard the TV spring into life. Bilbo gave a small ‘hrrmmph’ and followed him.
Edie knelt down and swept up the remaining Rice Krispies. Nid was not going to be an easy guest.
‘I’ll help you,’ said Impy, and she crawled under the kitchen units to pick up all the Rice Krispies and a few odd buttons that had scattered under there in among the sticky dust and clumps of dog hair.
‘Now you are both going back upstairs,’ Edie said when they were finished.
She carried Nid back up to the box with Impy whirring alongside.
‘But we have to go and look for Jot!’
‘We’re not going anywhere tonight,’ said Edie. ‘Dad is already in a mood and you nearly got me into big trouble.’
‘Nid nearly got you into trouble!’ said Impy, scowling at her younger brother.
Speckle appeared on the rim of the box clutching the walnut. He hadn’t yet come out.
‘I don’t even know what Jot looks like,’ Edie went on.
‘He looks like Speckle!’
Speckle jumped back down into the box and reappeared almost immediately clutching a bottle top. It was a flattened silver one with a zigzag line of teeth round the edge. He held it out to Edie. She turned it over and saw that a picture had been painted on the inside of it in tiny vivid brushstrokes of colour. It showed two figures with the same tuft of hair; their arms were folded round one another’s shoulders.
‘It’s a picture of Speckle and Jot,’ said Impy. ‘Speckle painted it. That’s him on the left . . . and Jot is on the right.’
Edie was stunned by the detail. She could see the fingers on their hands, the strands of hair, the stitches on their bright blue tops and the line of their mouths, open in laughter.
‘It’s brilliant, Speckle,’ she said.
Speckle nodded vigorously. Then he stared at Edie as if he were willing her to do something.
‘Can you talk, Speckle?’ Edie asked gently.
He shook his head.
‘He writes messages and paints pictures instead,’ Impy said.
‘Why didn’t Speckle go with Jot?’
‘Just because they’re twins it doesn’t mean they’re the same,’ Impy said. ‘Speckle likes to stay at home making things or looking after the nut, whereas Jot likes adventures. He’d roam around the edges of the Hillside Camp and chase spiders up the bank. And he’d go out at night with his friends in the tunnels around Highgate Station.’
Speckle had pulled out a small notebook from his bag and was writing something down. He pushed it towards Edie.
‘I ’fraid of the dark,’ she read. ‘They call me scaredy-flit!’ Beside it was a drawing of a small frightened face.
‘Jot’s friends did call him that,’ Impy said, placing her arm round Speckle’s shoulder. ‘And Jot fo
ught them because of it.’
Edie looked again at the bottle top. She could see now that the twins were different, but she could also see that it mattered to Speckle more than anyone that Jot was missing.
‘We’ll go first thing tomorrow,’ she said gently, returning the bottle top to him.
*
Impy nudged Nid and the three flits lined up in a row. Impy held out a small cloth bag to Edie. Using her finger and thumb, Edie took the bag and tipped the contents into the palm of her hand. There was a small silver windmill, a mother-of-pearl button and a single band of gold.
‘Are they for me?’ she asked.
Impy nodded vigorously.
‘Did you find these in the house?’
‘Yes,’ said Impy. ‘F7 work. The windmill and the button were underneath the floorboards and Nid found the ring at the back of the sink.’
‘Can I keep this?’ Nid asked, producing a broken ruler from behind his back. ‘It’s perfect for a skateboard ramp.’
‘Yes,’ said Edie, laughing.
*
Dad had fallen asleep in front of the television, so Edie gently shook him awake.
‘Look what I’ve found, Dad.’
He sat up, rubbing his eyes.
‘Have you cleared up those Rice Krispies?’
‘Yes . . . and look.’ She unfurled her hand and stood the windmill charm upright.
Dad stared at the cluster of objects. ‘Ha! That windmill charm was something we brought back from a holiday in Amsterdam. I wondered where it had gone.’ Then he gave a small gasp. ‘That ring . . . well, that’s your mum’s wedding ring. It’s been missing for years. Where did you find these?’ He placed the ring in the palm of his hand.
‘I-I found them when I was sweeping up,’ said Edie, flushing slightly.
‘Well, maybe it was a good thing that all those Rice Krispies spilled everywhere. Heta will be so pleased.’
Edie sat down beside him to eat her food.
‘It’s the milk that makes the Rice Krispies go snap, crackle, pop,’ Dad said.
Later, back in her bedroom, Edie looked inside the box. Impy was swinging in the hammock and Nid was dipping his hand into the chocolate spread.
Edie and the Box of Flits Page 5