‘Don’t touch the bird!’ shouted Vera. ‘It’s not for you to play with. It’s a present for me! It’s my party and I didn’t invite you. I knew you’d spoil everything.’
Edie snatched back her hand. Any sense of enchantment vanished. Now the whole place was beginning to feel suffocating.
Chapter Forty-One
Wilde Street
B
ead prodded at the young flits to keep them busy and clapped his hands. A chorus of voices started up. ‘Pick-ing pockets, lit-tle fingers, stealing is the only way.’
‘Stealing is against every Flit Forager Code,’ shouted Impy. ‘You shouldn’t work for her.’
The young flits looked at her curiously.
Vera ignored Impy and, adjusting her eyeglass, merely watched as they took everything in. Then she held Nid up to yet another cage that was dangling over their heads. It was lined with fine netting and inside were several more baby flits and a pile of unhatched nuts. She opened the door and threw Nid inside. This must be the nursery, Edie thought, and as soon as the flits hatched they were set to work.
Impy buried her head in Edie’s hair. ‘This is awful!’
Vera had once again raised her eyeglass to her face. ‘Get her too,’ she said in a bored voice. Shadwell landed on Edie’s head, snatching at her hair until he had Impy caught in his beak. Edie whirled round and grabbed at Shadwell, but he hovered just out of reach and then flew upwards to toss Impy in the cage with Nid.
‘Give them back!’ shouted Edie angrily.
‘No,’ said Vera.
‘Why are you doing all this?’
‘You think that stupid job in the Lost Property Office is what I do?’ she replied. ‘Yes, I find things . . . but I don’t just give them back.’ She pointed at the trucks laden with bars of precious metals and bags of gemstones. ‘I make them better and give them to other people who aren’t so careless.’
‘Sell them you mean?’ said Edie.
‘You could say that, but I think we can still refer to them as “lost” and “found”.’
‘But nothing here is yours. You are stealing things to melt down and change and –’ Edie looked at the painted birthday cake, which at a closer view she could see was made of papier mâché. ‘Why’s that here?’
‘B-because . . .’ Vera’s cool confidence faltered. Then she recovered herself. ‘I have every right to have a beautiful birthday just like everyone else, and this is my cake and my decorations and my presents.’ She sounded like an angry child. ‘It’s my special day!’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Edie. ‘If it’s your birthday, we could have had tea at the Lost Property Office with chocolate mini rolls and paper hats.’
‘Your father’, said Vera, ‘is kind. Mine was not. He didn’t make my birthdays “normal”. He never let me celebrate birthdays or Christmas. No presents, no cakes, no treats. No friends.’
Edie didn’t know what to say. It sounded weird. Why would Vera want everything now that she didn’t have as a child? She looked at the eyeglass hanging round Vera’s neck. ‘And where did you get that?’
Vera leant in very close to Edie’s face so that her eye was magnified into a hard-boiled egg. ‘I know you see them too, Edie,’ she said. ‘I saw so many little creatures as a child. They were the only people I felt I could talk to. Them and the birds. The birds listened to me, and still do, but I was in despair when I grew up and the little creatures faded away. Then, in my first week at the Lost Property Office, I found this eyeglass in one of the sacks.’
‘And you never reported it? What if someone had come to find it?’ Edie said, wondering who the owner of the eyeglass was.
‘I didn’t think it was anything special and then a few days later on my way home I realised that it could show me things. I saw Bead trying to steal my food and another little creature running across a ticket hall and I realised I could see them again! And it made me so happy.’ She started to cry. ‘I was so lonely, Edie.’
Edie felt confused.
‘I think you understand, Edie. After all, you took that box from the Storeroom at the End . . .’
Edie burnt with the truth of this. As Vera sniffed and dabbed at her eyes she stretched out her hand towards her.
‘Edie!’ Impy called out from the cage. ‘Look down there.’
Edie looked over to where Impy was pointing. There was another box on the table beside Vera. It was wooden and not unlike her own flit box but larger and more robust with tiny holes drilled in the top. The lid was stamped: Fragile. Live Creatures in Transit. Trade.
‘What’s that?’ she said.
‘It’s a travelling box,’ said Vera, sniffling. ‘For the little creatures.’
Edie leant over and lifted the lid. Inside were layers of wire netting.
‘Where are you taking them?’ Edie asked slowly, her sympathy for Vera evaporating. Juniper was one thing, but she sensed this was much, much worse.
‘They’re going to a new home where they’ll be put in a nice glass case.’
There was a terrible silence as Edie realised what the box meant. Despite the fiery furnace, the carriage felt strangely chilly. ‘You’re going to sell them too?’
Vera’s face narrowed and her sniffling stopped like a tap that had been switched off.
‘Of course. There are collectors out there – no questions asked.’
Edie paused to marshall her thoughts. So there might be other adults who could see the flits? And want to collect them? She thought of the tiny running figure tooled on the leather eyeglass pouch.
‘You never cared about them at all,’ said Edie. ‘You just realised that you could use them. You stole the youngest flits to turn them into pickpockets and now you’re going to sell them too. None of this belongs to you: not the gold, not the jewellery and NOT the flits.’
Impy and Nid gave a little cheer from the cage overhead.
‘You’re right. I don’t care about any of that. After my birthday is over everything will be sold. You have to take what you want in life.’
There was a short silence.
‘But no one has birthdays like this!’ Edie shouted. ‘Sending presents to themselves. Sitting alone with a huge stupid over-the-top cake. You only feel good when you’re using other people. Making them feel small.’ Inside she felt the same hot, difficult feelings that she had felt at school with Linny.
‘Temper!’ said Vera calmly. ‘Perhaps, Edie, you would like to help me instead of whining? It can be our secret. You can spend my birthday with me,’ she wheedled.
‘Not when it’s like this!’ Edie picked up the delicate birdcage. ‘You must give all this back!’
‘No . . . I can’t,’ said Vera, and she snatched at the cage, but Edie held on. They tussled back and forth until the birdcage dropped to the floor and broke.
All the flits stopped working and Bead gave a strangled gasp.
When Vera Creech spoke it was in a very cold, quiet voice. ‘You have spoken out of turn and you have broken my present. Now I shall set the magpins on you.’
‘You mean those birds? I suppose you trap them too. Make them do what you want?’
‘I’m clever with birds. I discovered that when I was younger too. I know how to train them.’
‘Well, the magpins won’t come now,’ said Edie.
‘What do you mean?’ Vera drew back. ‘What have you done with them?’
‘We’ve trapped them,’ said Edie. ‘They can’t escape.’
Vera snapped her fingers and Shadwell flew at Edie, pulling at her plaits so that Edie backed away towards the front of the train carriage. Vera opened the door to the old driver’s cab and pushed her hard, so that Edie stumbled backwards into the cab, and then she slammed the door shut and locked it.
Chapter Forty-Two
Wilde Street
E
die leant her head against the door. She was trapped and she was on her own. She knew she had to get a message to Charlie and Benedict, and she realised how foolish it ha
d been to come here alone with Impy. She was sure the others would be looking for them, but there were so many tunnels and passageways. She tried to open the window but apart from a small gap at the top it was stuck fast.
The trucks waiting on the tracks were a horrible reminder of Vera Creech’s plans. Edie sat down heavily on the driver’s seat.
‘Psst!’
Something had fluttered down onto her hair and was tugging gently at her plait.
‘Impy! How did you escape?’
Impy held up a tiny pocket knife. ‘Nid had this hidden in his bag and I cut a hole in the mesh and crawled through.’ She pointed up at a small pipe that connected the cabin to the carriage. ‘I can go and find Charlie and Benedict.’
‘It’s too dangerous,’ said Edie. ‘How will you find your way? And if the spy bird was to realise you’d gone . . .’ That didn’t bear thinking about.
A sharp tap made them both look up. The spy bird was at the window peering in.
‘Hide!’ whispered Edie, but it was too late. Shadwell had seen Impy and his eye swivelled round as he cocked his head to one side. He tapped again at the glass and poked his sharp beak through the gap in the window.
‘What are we going to do?’ whispered Impy.
‘We have to send a sign somehow to the others to let them know where we are.’
The spy bird watched them for another moment or two and then hopped back round to the train carriage. Edie knew he was going to get Vera.
‘Quick, Impy! We have to think of something!’
Impy had flitted down onto the dashboard of the train and was studying the levers and buttons. ‘Can we make it move?’ said Impy.
Edie lifted the driver’s handle to the left and right and pulled at the brake lever, but she had no idea how to start and drive a Tube train.
Impy flew up above Edie’s head. ‘What about this?’ she said. She was pointing to what looked like an old school bell high up on the wall. The driver’s cab had been fitted with some kind of alarm and it had a crank handle underneath. That was it! If they could sound the train’s alarm the others might hear it. Edie stood up on the chair and took hold of the handle. She tugged hard but it was stiff and rusty and only moved a fraction. The bell remained silent.
‘Come ON,’ said Edie, tugging it again.
‘Here!’ said Impy. She held out a tiny blue bottle. ‘It’s lavender oil. I like to carry it with me. It’s an F7 thing.’
‘Hurry!’ said Edie as Impy flew up and tipped two tiny drops of oil onto the crank handle. Edie tugged again and the crank began to move as the oil seeped into the mechanism. As she turned it, the bell began to ring. Faster and faster she turned it until – Brrrrrrrinnnnnng! – a long trilling, joyful note sounded and filled the air.
Edie turned the crank handle again. The bell sound became a brassy fanfare that filled the station and soared into the tunnels. Edie and Impy laughed as they could barely hear themselves think. It was fantastically, wonderfully, ear-shatteringly loud.
There was pandemonium behind them. The spy bird shot into the air and Vera came rushing out of the carriage with her hands over her ears.
‘Stop that noise!’ she cried, banging on the door of the cab. The eyeglass swung from her neck.
Edie turned the bell crank again. ‘Get the key from her pocket,’ she cried to Impy.
Impy slipped through the gap in the window and Edie could see her bobbing about behind Vera, trying to slip into her pocket. Within seconds she had tugged it out and was back at the window of the cab with the key in her arms, unnoticed by Shadwell. She thrust it at Edie.
‘Can you go and free the other flits?’ said Edie.
Impy disappeared back through the pipe that led to the main carriage just as Vera started rattling the handle. ‘Where’s the key? Shadwell! Find my key.’
Edie gave one last ring of the bell and at last Charlie and Benedict appeared in the entrance to the siding followed by Flum, Jot and Speckle and a cavalry of mice. They all stopped in their tracks when they saw the old carriage, the freight trucks loaded with booty and the strange birthday grotto.
Edie stood up and banged on the driver’s cab and Charlie came running over. ‘You’re here!’ he said. ‘That bell was crazy. What is this place?’
‘Edie! Thank goodness you’re all right!’ said Benedict. ‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere.’
Edie unlocked the door of the cab. ‘Quick,’ she said. ‘Catch Vera.’ Unnoticed, Vera Creech had run over to the trucks and was now releasing the brakes on the first one. They started to roll down the tracks and Vera ran alongside.
Benedict ran towards her, trying to catch hold of her coat. ‘Miss Creech . . . Vera . . . come back!’ cried Benedict.
‘Never,’ she said, and she scrambled up onto the second truck as it gathered speed.
Benedict ran after her, trying to keep up, but Shadwell swooped low across his face, blinding him for a moment, and he stumbled and fell.
Vera stood waving at them with Shadwell on her shoulder as the trucks gathered speed and disappeared round a bend in the tunnel.
Charlie and Edie helped Benedict to his feet. ‘Come on. We should go after her.’
‘NO!’ cried Benedict for the second time that night. ‘We don’t know where these tracks connect with the main line and there might be an electric rail. It’s too dangerous, Edie. She probably knows these tunnels and passageways like the back of her hand.’
‘We can’t let her get away!’
‘Let’s just think, Edie. There must be another way.’
Edie looked back to the carriage where all the flits were. There was someone else who could help them.
‘Wait here,’ she said.
Chapter Forty-Three
Wilde Street
‘B
ead?’ Edie cried as she jumped back into the carriage.
Nid and Impy had set up a zipwire to bring all the baby flits down from the nursery cage and Flum and Speckle and the mice had formed an assembly line to collect all the unhatched nuts.
‘Where’s Bead?’
Bead emerged from behind a soldering iron, trembling and clutching a boiled sweet. He looked behind Edie, expecting Vera Creech to reappear with her eyeglass.
‘Vera’s gone, Bead. She’s left you behind,’ Edie said.
‘Left me behind?’ he said, wrapping his arms more tightly round the sweet.
‘You can come with us, but first you have to tell us where those trucks go.’
Bead ducked back down behind the soldering iron. ‘I can’t!’
‘You’ll be on your own again if you don’t help us. Vera Creech didn’t care about you. She’d probably have sold you to some collector who might pin you down like a butterfly in a cabinet. And you’d have no sugar!’
Bead’s head peered round again. ‘On my own? No sugar?’
‘No,’ said Edie firmly.
‘And you’ll take me with you?’
‘Yes, we will,’ said Edie more kindly.
‘Well . . .’ he said slowly and then the rest tumbled out. ‘There’s a maintenance train that comes along the Bakerloo Line every night and she attaches the trucks to it. It goes all the way to the depot where the freight trains are.’
‘Of course!’ said Charlie. ‘She’s clever! The freight trains are just like a giant delivery service to her.’
‘This is just a siding,’ said Bead. ‘Just round the next bend the track joins with the main line.’
‘When does the maintenance train come?’ Charlie asked.
‘I think it comes at one-thirty in the morning,’ said Bead. ‘She sends the trucks down around this time and waits with them.’
‘That’s in fifteen minutes,’ said Charlie, looking at his watch.
Edie helped Flum and Speckle to get all the flits safely into her rucksack and hoisted it onto her back. ‘These tracks lead down to the main train line,’ Edie called out to Benedict. ‘We have to go back to Wilde Street Station.’
‘How d
o you know?’ said Benedict.
‘You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you!’ cried Edie, waving at him to follow as the mice led the way and she, Charlie and Benedict ran at full tilt behind them.
In the distance there was a sudden chorus of screechy cries as if blown towards them on a gust of wind.
‘I thought the magpins were trapped in the net,’ said Edie.
‘They are,’ said Charlie. ‘At least, they were.’ Edie could tell by the tone of his voice that he was no longer convinced.
They turned their torches off as they neared the end of the passageway, as they could once again see the glow from the magpins’ camp, and felt their way along the wall and out to the middle of the platform. It seemed days, weeks even, since they had first stepped out here, and yet it was little over an hour ago.
Elfin and Jot bobbed up out of the gloom.
‘She’s got the magpins!’ Jot said. ‘We tried to stop her, but she carried the whole net away with her.’
‘Where?’ said Charlie.
‘We flew after her but she disappeared down there.’ Elfin pointed to the far end of the platform.
‘What’s happened?’ said Benedict, oblivious to Elfin and Jot.
‘Vera’s taken the magpins,’ said Edie. Almost on cue they heard another chorus of screechy cries reverberating around the tunnel walls.
‘Let’s just wait for the maintenance train,’ said Edie. ‘She has to come out then. The tunnel that led from the siding must connect with the main line down there somewhere.’ Charlie flicked on his torch again and, for a brief moment, shone the beam along the main line. In the shadows beyond the mouth of the tunnel they could just make out a second tunnel branching off to the left with its own line of track.
‘That must be it,’ he whispered, turning off the torch and allowing them to be folded into the gloom once again.
They crouched in silence. Somewhere water dripped. It was spooky and the damp felt as if it was crawling into Edie’s bones. She imagined Vera Creech waiting too with her trucks.
Edie and the Box of Flits Page 15