“Don’t your Ladyship... You could kill it.”
The Witch caught her own reflection in the back of the spoon and shrieked. “But I am ugly!” She demanded.
Climbing up the steps and kneeling on the granite lip of the caldron, she plunged the ladle into the soup of dying souls. Their pitiful cries for help fell on death ears as she stirred the mix, whispering her gibberish mantra. “Just a sip... Yes...” She said encouraging herself that it was alright. “One little sip to make me young again!”
She dare not take too much and the ladle was barely coated with the elixir when she retrieved it. Her hands trembled with excitement as she put it to her mouth. It was her lips that found the potion first and they absorbed every last drop. “Look at me..! Am I not beautiful once again? Am I not young?”
Skuttlebucket shrugged. “Slap a bit of lippy on and I suppose you could pass for a seventy year old... And that’s at a stretch.”
Agyness shrieked once again, only this time it was in anger. “What..!” Turning over the ladle she once again looked upon her reflection. “I am still old and ugly.” She whined and then touched her lips and smiled. “But I have the full, pert lips of an eighteen year old... In my book that’s a start.”
Skuttlebucket shrugged and thought about taking up her offer of freedom.
Chapter23
Poppy had slept unusually well to say she was in kiddies’ prison; she had felt strangely safe somehow, and didn’t know why. Perhaps it was the bars in the window or the locks on the doors. She wondered when they would issue her with stripy pajamas, but hoped for the ones with arrows on, they looked so cool. Maybe they’d let her keep them when she got out.
“Stop daydreaming Poppy... And while you’re at it stop talking to yourself!” She mumbled and stretched, she was stiff and aching all over, and the mattresses didn’t help much.
She didn’t know what time it was and didn’t really care. Time was for people on the outside, not prisoners like her. Getting out of bed she slipped her trainers and a dressing gown on. “Where’s my toilet? I’ve seen the films and there’s always a toilet next to the bed... What sort of low rent joint is this?” She yawned and stretched again as she sauntered over to the door still half asleep and opened it. The corridor was dim in the winter morning light but Poppy couldn’t miss the sight of someone asleep in a chair right outside of her door. It was the girl from the night before, Leila, and she was snoring quite heavily. Waking her didn’t seem to be the safe option so Poppy tiptoed around her and went to the toilet. Upon her return Leila was still very much there and still snoring heavily. Even an hour later after Poppy had dressed properly she could still hear the grunts, sniffles and snores. That girl could sleep for England and Poppy wasn’t going to risk getting a slap for waking her. Instead she made her way to the canteen for breakfast; she’d need all her energy for the great escape
Her Mother and the lawyer arrived sometime after ten o’clock in the morning. They collected Poppy in the recreational area and escorted her to what was laughingly called the family room. Poppy realised immediately that what they really meant was interrogation room. No one uttered a single word as they walked in single file and Poppy began to wonder if she’d had her last meal. Suddenly she felt very hungry and wished that she’d had that last piece of toast afterall.
The room contained a leather settee and a low coffee table seated over a large rug. The rest of the floor was polished wood, just like the walls. They contained several paintings and a shelf with potted plants, Poppy noticed that one was dying and hoped to water it if she got chance.
They were invited to sit down by a plain clothed policeman while another man set up a video camera on a tripod. “Won’t be a minute.” He said and then he pressed some buttons and signaled to the other man.
“Hello Poppy my name is Detective Inspector Bacon...”
Poppy couldn’t help but snigger. “You’re a Policeman... And your name is Bacon. That is so funny...” Angry glares from all the adults present brought her to her senses. “Sorry.”
“...I must inform you that you are being interviewed under police caution. You have the right to remain silent but anything you say will be taken down and used against you in a court of Law. You have the right to the presence of an adult... In this case it’s Mrs. Anne Darke, your Mother. You also have the right to a lawyer...” He suddenly stopped talking when he realised that he didn’t know the Lawyers name and just stared dumbly at him.
“Oh right...” He said and smiled for the camera. “Quentin Jones of Jones, Jones and Pruitt!”
“Also present in the room is Police Constable Ryan Smith.... Poppy Darke of thirteen Blackberry Farm Lane, Burnham’s- Lowly... It is put to you that on or about the twenty third of December two thousand and nine did or did allow Nathanial Darke of the same address to be abducted by you or accomplices unknown.”
“That’s wrong... I didn’t do it!” Poppy said firmly. “...And I don’t have any accomplices.”
The Detective stank of tobacco and stale aftershave; there was also an unmistakable hint of perfume about him. Poppy caught the glint of his blue eyes and found herself automatically probing his thoughts. Her gaze made him uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat several times.
“What time did you go to bed on the night question Poppy?”
“Ten o’clock... I always go to my room at ten.” She said softly and keeping her eyes locked firmly on his, probed deeper. He had a policeman’s mind alright; it was full of facts and figures. A biological library jam-packed with laws and crimes, a gallery full to brimming with faces of bad men and women.
Beads of sweat began to appear upon his receding hairline as his feelings of unease grew. If a Policeman ever had a hunch it was him- And this kid was guilty as sin, it was in the eyes... Always in the eyes.
His private life was messy and Poppy now knew that he disliked children. He’d run away from his first wife because of the twins and now his second wife was pregnant he was getting itchy feet again. Infact he was having an affair with a WPC called Karen. “Affair!” Poppy spluttered and coughed at the same time to mask the word.
“Please speak clearly for the camera!”
“I said it’s not fair..!”
Poppy saw the thought which told her he was going to ignore her comment and push on with further questioning.
“Did you enter your brothers’ room at any time during the evening in question?”
He had completed the six week child interrogation course at Hendon College ten years previous, and now so had Poppy, only she had gleaned the basics in less than a minute. Parts of his mind, concerning his private life were messy and disorganized; memories lay strewn where he had last thought of them.
Now she knew to sit up straight and relax her shoulders, she had to stop fidgeting and look him straight in the eye. But most of all she knew to keep the answers short and sweet. “No!”
“It’s my understanding that you don’t like your brother very much. Now he’s here I suppose you don’t get to spend as much time with your Mum!”
“That’s right... I don’t like my brother..!”
The answer drew gasps from both Anne and the Lawyer.
“I love my little brother!”
“I see, babies cry an awful lot don’t they?”
Poppy nodded. “Look, I can see where you’re going with this and no his crying never bothered me at all, even when I was doing my homework or watching television.”
The Detective raised an eyebrow as he looked at his notes. “Well you just about answered my next three questions...”
“I don’t have any accomplices... I wasn’t on my doorstep in the early hours of that morning and if I knew where he was I would tell you...! If I knew who took him I would tell you!” Poppy cried impatiently. “Now you check that note book of yours and I think you’ll find that’s all of your stupid questions answered, now can I go and look for my brother please?”
Detective Bacon didn’t like children, never had,
and he’d only gone on that course to impress the boss. The case was baffling, all the doors and windows were locked- So it had to be an inside job. But where had she stashed the kid? “Those woods..!” He said slowly yet very deliberately. “Dark and scary aren’t they, I wouldn’t want to be up there on my own at night, would you?”
Poppy rolled her eyes and glanced at the ceiling in a show of mock disgust. “But I was wasn’t I!”
DI Bacon shook his head in ignorance, had she really made her first mistake. “I don’t know...! Were you? I thought that you were found unconscious on the front lawn of your granddad’s house in Burnham?” He said smiling as he flicked through some pieces of paper.
Poppy didn’t know, the last thing she remembered was seeing that monstrous cat and passing out. She’d assumed that was where they’d found her. She looked at her mum for help but found none. “What I meant was..! Well I mean that I go up there sometimes during the day..! To pick wild flowers!”
He scratched his chin while he thought about his next move. He’d got her on the back foot now. “What- In the winter? When you go into those woods do you make dens Poppy? Me and my friends used to all the time when I was a kid, it was great fun.”
Now it was Poppy’s turn to get nervous, she could see where his train of thought was going and didn’t like it. How could she ever explain Jesse to anyone now that she knew he was a ghost? “Sometimes, I suppose!”
“With your friends? What are their names? Have you got addresses for them?”
Now she looked nervous, she was fidgeting and wringing her hands, he’d got her now.
“I... I haven’t got any friends... I like to go there on my own, it’s peaceful.”
“Where is this den of yours? Could you point it out to me on a map? So you go there when things are getting too much at home, such as when the baby is crying and screaming the house down?”
Poppy shook her head but kept her eyes on his, flicking unceremoniously through his thoughts she finally found something that just might help her. “No, not really, I just like wildlife... Especially butterflies! But I don’t kill them and pin them into scrap books like some people... I think that’s cruel!” She said and stared into his eyes, he was a clever man and Poppy didn’t like that one little bit. “My favorite is the Red Admiral... Have you ever seen one?”
Then she found another memory, he’d once been hypnotized on stage whilst on holiday and made to think he was a chicken. Poppy almost started laughing at the sight of him prancing around like a bird in front of hundreds of people. The mechanics of mesmerism seemed easy enough and was now another weapon in her ever growing armory. The ability to read minds was quickly proving to be more useful than she had at first thought.
“Yes I have, infact I’m a collector myself...” He said. “I’ve got a greenhouse at home just brimming with all sorts of exotics and funnily enough my favorite is the Red Admiral too..!” Then he pulled a face. “You know I’m with you on the whole pinning up thing... But its winter and there aren’t any butterflies around at the moment!”
“Isn’t it just?” Poppy said. “I like to see them fly... Free!” She let the last word linger on her lips for the briefest of seconds and then continued. “They are so helpless and... Innocent.”
“Yes...Flying free!” He mumbled. The policeman found himself lost in her blue eyes; he just couldn’t tear his gaze away from them. “Innocent!”
Poppy continued her assault on his subconscious. “They’re just so beautiful, all those colors. And the way they glide on the breeze is so mesmerizing isn’t it. Watching them just makes you want to relax.”
“So how is school then?” He asked. “Do you enjoy it? What’s your favorite subject?”
“Oh mathematics of course... I find counting so relaxing too, just like the butterflies. When I can’t sleep I start at one and then two. When I get to three I’m feeling quite tired... Four, five by six I’m so... So drowsy. Seven, eight and I’m dreaming of butterflies ... I’m always fast asleep well before ten and I sleep like a log till morning!”
The seeds of doubt had been well planted and it would only be a matter of time before they grew into ideas, and when that idea became a belief Poppy would be free.
Bacon suddenly blinked as his brain caught up with its shadow. This kid had to be innocent; he could feel it in his gut. “Interview terminated at ten thirty.” He said and then he nodded at the other Policeman to turn the video equipment off. “Well young lady you’ve given us a frank, detailed and may I say in my opinion honest account of events. You were fast asleep well before ten and I bet you slept like a log till morning.”
“That’s right!” Poppy said quietly. “I’m innocent and should be set free as soon as possible... And we’ll just forget about the map for now!” And then she leaned over and whispered something in his ear.
“I’d say your innocent and I’ll have you set free as soon as possible... We’ll do the maps some other time.” Then he stood, shook hands with Poppys mum and the Lawyer and left in a hurry afterall that young lady was innocent and he had to get her out as quickly as possible.
Poppy put her hand to her mouth to conceal her delight.
“What are you laughing at?” Her Mum Demanded. “What on earth was all that about? Since when do you like butterflies? And you hate mathematics.”
“I’m laughing because from now on every time he hears the word ‘Policeman’, he’s going to dance like a deranged chicken!”
“Poppy!” Anne Darke cried. “What have you done..? And more importantly how?”
“I’ll tell you later Mum, because right now I need to pack. I’ll be out of this dump in less than thirty minutes.”
Poppy was almost right, she was actually out of that dump in thirty three minutes and twenty seconds.
The scent of an Angel’s whim lingered on in the interrogation room, and a long dead cactus burst into glorious life. Its limbs swelled with life giving water from parched, lifeless soil and flowering buds began to appear between the spines on the now succulent green plant.
Flowers of red and yellow bloomed as if for the first time ever and their petals shimmered in the winter sunlight. The magic was weak and the gift of life fleeting for no sooner had the flowers opened they all died, all except one.
This flower, different to the others, spread its petals which turned into wings and heaved to pull its roots out of the bud. Taking to the air it fluttered and danced with joy at his new life, all it needed now was food and a female, in no particular order... but it was cold and the sunlight meagre...
DI Bacon rushed back into the room; he was late and remembered he’d left his car keys on the window ledge. He was relieved to see that they were still there and in his haste to grab them almost crushed a tiny insect.
A collector of live Butterflies like him could not possibly have missed the sight that met his eyes. There sat on top of his keys was a Red Admiral; he frowned with heartfelt sadness and some considerable confusion as he picked up the beautiful insect. He wondered where on earth it had come from on such a cold winter’s day as he watched it flap its wings for the last time.
Chapter 24
Now that Poppy knew the truth there was really no need to pretend anymore, but he thought it best to show some manners. As Jesse bravely marched up the path he straightened his T-shirt, adjusted his dungarees and took a deep ghostly breath (Which he didn’t really need). Then he knocked on the door as hard as he could and waited anxiously.
He could hear movement inside as footsteps came closer and closer to the door and almost scarpered before it was opened.
“Poppy!” He spluttered. “I’m...” He was going to say sorry but didn’t get a chance.
“A Ghost..!” Poppy cried angrily. “I thought you were my friend? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jesse shrugged and stared down at his laces which he noticed had just come undone for the first time since Poppy had tied them all those months ago.
“But I’ve got something to tell you
..!”
“Yes I know! You’re a dead boy who scared me half to death. Now get lost... You’re no friend of mine...” She cried and slammed the door shut. Then she opened the letterbox and shrieked. “I can’t believe it! I’m being haunted by a rug rat!”
She’d already snapped the letterbox shut when he whimpered. “But I know where your brother is...”
Poppy slumped down in the middle of the settee, put on her best sulking face and pulled a cushion on to her lap. The signs were all there right from the beginning in that field. She remembered tying his laces and them being so fine she could barely feel the thread. He always wore the same old clothes, he never invited her to his house and he would never eat food or sweets. But most of all and the biggest give away- He was the only kid in the village apart from Poppy who knew about the Goyles. Infact she remembered Putrid Rottenoffle saying that ‘Humans can’t see us Goyles until they is dead’uns.’
“God... It was so obvious..!” She told the cushion, but it never replied.
She felt so stupid to have missed all the signs, right there in front of her for all that time. She tried to look out of the corner of her eye and through the front window to see if he was still hanging around.
He seemed to have gone so she ran to the window and hid behind the curtains. Peeking out through a gap she spied him sat on a swing in the neighbors’ garden.
As her anger began to subside so did her heart begin to thaw. He looked so sad and alone as he swung backwards and forwards gazing at the ground. Poppy almost tapped on the window but changed her mind at the last moment and put her hand to her mouth.
“Oh my god!” She whispered. “I am so evil... I just shouted at... A dead little boy!”
Jesse had to think fast, time was running out and he had to tell Poppy everything he knew, before it was too late. The swing always helped him to think and this time was no different.
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