Charlie Bone and the Hidden King (Children of the Red King)

by Jenny Nimmo

  ‘Make her comfortable,’ said the doctor.

  It was decided that the bath would be the best place for Maisie, owing to the droplets that continued to pool around her feet. Before he left, Dr Tanaka helped Uncle Paton to carry the icy body upstairs. They had to wear gloves and it was no easy task to manoeuvre her into the bath. Charlie gently pushed a cushion under Maisie’s head, and Amy covered her with a blanket.

  ‘I hope I will have the pleasure of buying many more vegetables at your excellent shop,’ the doctor told Amy before he left.

  ‘I hope so, too,’ said Amy, returning the doctor’s elegant bow.

  No sooner had the doctor gone, than a phone call from the store informed Paton that the prawns held no toxic substances whatsoever. They had been fed to laboratory rats with no ill effects. In fact, the rats had thoroughly enjoyed them and, if anything, had become slightly bushier and brighter after eating them.

  ‘They were probably starving,’ muttered Charlie.

  ‘It only took one prawn,’ Uncle Paton declared. ‘And Maisie had to eat it. My money’s on Venetia.’

  ‘But Great-Aunt Venetia only poisons clothes,’ Charlie reminded him. ‘Why should she change to prawns?’

  ‘No idea,’ growled Paton.

  Charlie felt uncomfortable using the bathroom with Maisie in it, so he went up to the top floor, where his mother and Maisie slept, and used their toilet. So did Paton.

  That night, Grandma Bone grumbled that it was too cold on the top floor and she needed a bath. ‘Kindly remove the frozen person,’ she demanded.

  Paton refused and Grandma Bone had to use the toilet next to the cellar. She went without a bath.

  Charlie felt his eyes closing as soon as he got into bed. He sleepily ran through the day’s events and suddenly remembered Naren. Was it only that morning he had crossed the bridge into the wilderness?

  What had she said? ‘Don’t close your curtains tonight.’ So what could her endowment be? Could she fly, or send messages on moonbeams? Wearily he staggered out of bed and went to the window. The white moth drifted on to one of the curtains as he drew them back. Outside a dusting of frost already glittered on the branches of the chestnut tree. It was going to be another cold night.

  Charlie climbed back into bed and fell asleep.

  He awoke to find the room bright with moonlight. As he gazed about him he saw thin black shadows snaking towards his bed. Charlie shrank against the pillows as they climbed the bedpost and crawled across the covers. Like tiny, oddly-formed creatures, they swarmed over Charlie’s hands and ran up his sleeves, but he could feel nothing.

  ‘Shadows,’ he thought. ‘Only shadows.’

  He watched the tiny shapes move on to the wall behind him. They began to jostle each other, almost as though they were seeking the right place in the swirling crowd. As Charlie gazed in amazement at the moving shadows he became aware that the shapes were letters. Gradually, their feverish activity began to slow and Charlie could make out the words of a message:

  ‘It’s me, Naren. This is what I can do. Were you scared when you saw my little shadows? If you whisper at the wall I shall hear you.’

  ‘Hello, Naren,’ Charlie whispered uncertainly.

  The letters rearranged themselves and Charlie read:

  ‘Hello, Charlie. I hope you got back safely. If anything troubles you, let me know and I can tell my father. Although he hates to come into the city, he will help you.’

  Where to begin? wondered Charlie. He decided to tell Naren about frozen Maisie. When he had whispered every detail of his grandmother’s terrible misfortune, the shadows on the wall remained perfectly still for a full minute, as though Naren were trying to make sense of the message.

  At last the letters began to move. This time the words were formed very slowly.

  ‘What you say about your . . . grandmother is . . . so bad . . . I will talk . . . to Bartholomew . . . Tomorrow . . . perhaps . . . he can send advice.’

  ‘But I’ll be in school tomorrow night. How can you –’ Charlie heard footsteps in the passage outside his room. Suddenly the door opened and he whispered, rather louder than he intended, ‘Goodbye!’

  Grandma Bone walked in. ‘Who were you talking to?’ she demanded.

  ‘No one, Grandma,’ said Charlie. ‘Maybe I was talking in my sleep.’

  ‘But you’re not asleep. You’re sitting up in bed. What’s that on your wall?’ Grandma Bone peered at the wall above Charlie’s head.

  Charlie glanced over his shoulder, hoping desperately that Naren’s letters had disappeared. Luckily, she must have understood his hurried goodbye, because the tiny shapes were beginning to fade.

  ‘They’re shadows, Grandma,’ Charlie said quickly, ‘from the branches of the chestnut tree.’

  ‘Stupid boy! You’ve left your curtains open. How can you sleep with the moon pouring in like that?’ Grandma Bone strode across the room and pulled the curtains tightly together. ‘Now, go to sleep.’

  Charlie lay down and closed his eyes. When Grandma Bone had gone he opened them, briefly. The room was so dark he couldn’t even see the wall. In another second, he was asleep.

  Next morning Charlie was so tired he completely forgot about frozen Maisie, and then he walked into the bathroom and saw her lying there. Her face looked bluer than the day before, or was it his imagination? He found he couldn’t even brush his teeth with Maisie’s icy stare at his back, so he nipped up to the top floor.

  Amy was still in the kitchen when Charlie went down to breakfast. ‘I’m not going to work,’ she told Charlie. ‘I can’t with Maisie like she is. Oh, Charlie, what are we going to do?’

  A pot of parsley sitting on the windowsill gave Charlie an idea. ‘Vervain,’ he murmured. ‘Do you remember, Mum, when Uncle Paton was bewitched last year?’

  ‘As if I could forget,’ she said.

  ‘And I stole some vervain from Great-Aunt Eustacia’s garden, and we made some tea and –’

  ‘Uncle Paton was cured!’ cried Amy.

  ‘Well, Fidelio’s mum put some in a pot for future use,’ Charlie went on excitedly. ‘If you went to Gunn House, I bet Mrs Gunn would still have some. Fidelio says she puts it in his sandwiches sometimes, as a kind of pick-me-up.’

  ‘Charlie, you’re a genius!’ His mother gave him such a squeeze he swallowed half a slice of toast in one go.

  ‘I’ll go straight round to Mrs Gunn after breakfast,’ said Amy happily. ‘In fact I’ll go right now.’ She looked out of the window. ‘Billy Raven’s outside. You will keep Maisie’s little problem a secret, won’t you?’

  ‘Course,’ mumbled Charlie. As if he’d want anyone else to know his grandma was permanently occupying the bathroom!

  Amy dashed into the hall and flung on her coat. As she let herself out, Charlie could hear Billy’s small voice asking if it was all right for him to come in.

  ‘Of course, Billy, of course!’ said Amy.

  The front door slammed and the next minute Billy was standing in the kitchen, looking sheepish.

  ‘Benjamin doesn’t have to go to his school for another half an hour,’ Billy said dejectedly, ‘so Mrs Brown said I’d better come over to you, so we could catch the Bloor’s Academy bus together.’

  ‘Couldn’t she take you?’ Charlie spread honey on his second piece of toast.

  Billy shrugged. ‘Don’t think she’s going in today.’

  ‘Well, we’ve got another three minutes,’ Charlie said cheerily. ‘D’you want some cereal? It’s got strawberries in it.’

  ‘No thanks.’ Nevertheless, Billy came and sat at the kitchen table. He was wearing a blue duffel coat that looked several sizes too small for him.

  ‘Did you have a good weekend, then?’ Charlie asked.

  Billy gazed sadly at Charlie’s toast. ‘Well, yes, in a way. But Rembrandt wasn’t very happy. Can I stay with you next weekend, Charlie?’

  ‘OK.’ Charlie swallowed his last bit of toast and licked his fingers. ‘We’d better get going.’r />
  Billy got up and made for the door. ‘Can I use your toilet?’

  ‘NO!’ cried Charlie. ‘That is, yes. Use the one next to the cellar.’

  Billy stood motionless beside the door. ‘What’s wrong with your upstairs toilet?’

  ‘Blocked,’ said Charlie.

  While they ran up Filbert Street together, Charlie tried to get more information out of Billy. Why hadn’t he enjoyed his stay with the Browns? And what had happened to Rembrandt?

  ‘I enjoyed most of it,’ panted Billy. ‘But Benjamin’s mum and dad asked me so many questions, and Runner Bean and Rembrandt kept arguing, and it’s really tiring listening to animals argue.’

  ‘It must be,’ said Charlie sympathetically.

  ‘Runner Bean’s so boisterous,’ went on Billy. ‘Rembrandt’s quite exhausted.’

  ‘Did you leave him with the Browns?’

  ‘No, he’s in my pocket.’

  Charlie stopped running. ‘Billy, you can’t keep a rat in the dorm.’

  Billy drew up beside him. ‘I know, I know. I’ll give him to Cook when we’re in the canteen.’

  Charlie thought this could be risky, but said no more.

  ‘Runner Bean’s not a very nice dog, you know,’ Billy muttered as they began to run again.

  ‘He’s a great dog,’ said Charlie. ‘You’re just looking at it from a rat’s point of view.’

  ‘Don’t see how else I can look at it,’ argued Billy.

  The blue Academy bus arrived at the top of Filbert Street and the two boys raced towards it.

  When they got to school, they found that Dorcas Loom had done her worst. The story of Charlie and the animals had spread through the academy. Every cloakroom was full of it. Charlie Bone had been seen with all his friends’ pets, so where were the others?

  At first break, when Charlie stepped outside, a large gang approached him. He saw Dorcas and Joshua with a Branko twin on either side of them. And Charlie’s old enemy Damian Smerk was there, with Bragger Braine and Rupe Small behind him. There were at least ten others, some of them fourth and fifth formers whom Charlie only knew by sight. Joshua’s magnetism had obviously drawn them together. They weren’t the sort who would normally bother with a mere second-former like Charlie.

  Asa Pike pushed his way to the front of the group. ‘So, Charlie Bone, what have you got to say for yourself?’ he snarled.

  Before Charlie could speak, a gust of wind rushed round his ankles and Asa staggered backwards as a blast of cold air practically knocked him off his feet.

  Behind Charlie, a familiar voice said, ‘He’s got nothing to say. So shove off!’

  Amy is bewitched

  Charlie found himself standing between Tancred and Lysander. Their presence was very welcome.

  ‘Keep out of this, Torsson,’ Asa spluttered through mouthfuls of cold air. ‘You haven’t even got a pet.’

  ‘Well, I have,’ Lysander shouted.

  ‘We want to know what he’s done with our animals,’ screeched Dorcas, clinging to Bragger Braine’s sturdy arm.

  ‘Tell us!’ Idith and Inez shouted above the wailing wind. ‘Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!’

  Charlie covered his ears. He could feel the twins’ eyes upon him. Lysander and Tancred felt the force of their black-eyed stare too. All three took a step back, and then another. Not to be outdone, Tancred tried another trick. A sudden torrent of rain fell on to the chanting crowd, soaking them to the skin.

  Gasping with shock, the gang began to scatter, leaving the endowed children standing together in a resolute line. Asa, Joshua, Dorcas and the twins, their hair dripping, their clothes sodden and their faces gleaming with water, glared at Charlie, who couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

  Without any warning, Joshua Tilpin launched himself straight at Charlie. Taken off guard, Charlie fell to the ground with Joshua on top of him. The two boys rolled together, over and over, in the wet grass.

  Deciding that Charlie’s size gave him a distinct advantage, Tancred and Lysander allowed the fight to continue. Joshua was such a weedy boy, they felt he didn’t stand a chance. The others, however, were convinced that Joshu’s endowment would give him the strength he needed to beat the truth out of Charlie Bone.

  ‘Tell us! Tell us, Charlie Bone,’ they droned. ‘Where are the animals?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Charlie landed a punch on Joshua’s puny shoulder.

  Three more boys arrived on the scene: Gabriel, breathless and chewing his fist, Fidelio, mouthing the words, ‘what’s going on?’ and Billy, creeping between the two of them, and anxiously swaying from foot to foot.

  Fighting Joshua was like heaving a ton of bricks about. How could such a small boy weigh so much? Charlie wondered. He pummelled his adversary’s back, he pulled at his skinny arms, kicked his twig-like legs. But Joshua seemed to suck all the energy out of him. When he lay on Charlie’s chest, Charlie felt as though a massive wall was crushing the life out of him. He struggled to get his breath, his hands clawing the air and then, with one mighty effort, he bunched up his fist and punched it into Joshua’s face.

  ‘Aieeee!’ Joshua’s screams were unearthly. He rolled off Charlie, clutching his nose.

  Charlie staggered to his feet. He felt five hands patting him heavily on the back and almost fell on his face again.

  Lysander gave a whoop of victory. ‘Well done, Charlie!’

  ‘Serves the little scab right,’ added Tancred.

  Joshua was still on the ground, snivelling miserably. Dorcas helped him up and he stood glaring at Charlie as he wiped his bloody nose. ‘One day I’ll get you, Charlie Bone,’ he grunted. His tone was full of menace, but he looked so pathetic, Fidelio burst into laughter.

  ‘HOW DARE YOU!’ No one had noticed Miss Chrystal striding up.

  ‘You, Fidelio, of all people! How dare you laugh at an injured boy?’ She turned to the others. ‘What’s been going on?’

  Everyone shouted at once, one side accusing Charlie, the other denying he had done anything wrong.

  Miss Chrystal held up her hand. ‘Asa, you’re a prefect. Why didn’t you stop the fight?’

  Asa was momentarily at a loss. At length he said, ‘I tried, but this lot,’ he indicated Dorcas and the twins, ‘wanted to know why that lot,’ he pointed at Charlie and his friends, ‘had got their animals back. It’s generally believed, Miss, that Charlie Bone has got something to do with all those pets disappearing.’

  Miss Chrystal swung round and stared coldly at Charlie. ‘Have you?’

  Charlie was shocked by the expression on Miss Chrystal’s normally pretty face. She looked cold and spiteful. Her pale blue eyes were half closed and her shapely mouth had become a thin, hard line.

  ‘I haven’t got anything to do with animals coming or going,’ Charlie claimed.

  Miss Chrystal stared at him for a bit longer and then marched off, without another word. Curiously, Joshua ran after her. Grabbing her arm, he cried, ‘I’m hurt. You’ve got to do something.’

  Miss Chrystal stopped and spoke to him in a low voice. Charlie couldn’t hear every word, but he thought she said, ‘Pull yourself together, Josh. Remember who we are.’

  Joshua’s arm dropped to his side and he looked down, biting his lip.

  The horn sounded for the end of break and, as everyone made for the door, Charlie saw Miss Chrystal fondle Joshua’s hair. She looked up and caught Charlie watching her. This time her expression was one of outright hatred.

  ‘Round one to you, Charlie,’ said Fidelio as they stepped into the hall. ‘Well done!’

  Something told Charlie that there were many more rounds to come and it was by no means certain that he would win the next one.

  Charlie’s mother was, at that moment, helping Mrs Gunn to tidy her chaotic kitchen. For all its mess and muddle, Amy found it a very comforting place. Mrs Gunn had become her closest, perhaps her only, friend, and Amy often popped over to see her after work.

  Amy picked up a guitar that was balanced precariousl
y on top of ten assorted mugs on the kitchen table. She placed the guitar beside a double bass standing in the larder. Then, skidding over a jammy knife, she bent and retrieved it, along with three other knives, two dirty spoons and an apple core.

  ‘I don’t know how you do it, Chloe.’ Amy dropped the cutlery into a sink already piled high with dishes. ‘Eight children to clean up after. As soon as you’ve finished they’ll be back for tea, and you’ve got to start all over again.’

  ‘Not Fidelio.’ Mrs Gunn brushed cornflakes off three of the chairs. ‘He’s at Bloors, remember. And Felix is away a lot now, with his band, so that only leaves six.’ She removed a flute and three music books from the worktop and tucked them into the washing machine.

  ‘Will they be safe in there?’ Amy asked anxiously.

  ‘Safe as houses,’ said Chloe. ‘Pudding’s inside and she’d let me know if I started a wash.’

  A large grey cat jumped out of the washing machine.

  ‘Oh, well,’ Chloe said cheerfully. ‘Let’s have our coffee.’

  Amy wiped a blob of butter off one of the chairs and sat down. Chloe sang as she filled the kettle. She sang most of the time, as did her husband, a music teacher at the local school. Every one of their children was musical, but Fidelio was the star. A musical genius. Chloe knew that her fourth child would go far.

  Outside the kitchen window a row of green herbs could be seen, sprouting from their terracotta pots. Alas, the herb that Amy had come for had vanished.

  ‘Who would have taken that vervain?’ asked Amy, sipping her coffee.

  ‘No idea,’ said Chloe. ‘It was there two nights ago. I used some in a salad. I’m so sorry, Amy. What are you going to do next? You can’t leave your mother in the bath indefinitely.’

  Amy gave a sigh of despair. ‘Oh, Chloe, I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘I think you should go and see the manager at Kingdom’s. If someone tampered with those prawns, the store is responsible.’

  ‘They say they’re not.’

  ‘Then tell the police,’ Chloe advised.

  ‘I can’t. Don’t you see – it’s . . . it’s a spell. Dr Tanaka said as much. The police can’t deal with spells.’ Amy drained her cup. ‘I’d better go, Chloe. I don’t like leaving Maisie for too long. She just might melt, and she’ll be so frightened if she’s all alone.’