‘A fool, sir.’
‘A fool who doesn’t fool anybody, and that’s a sad and sorry sight. What is it?’
‘A sad and sorry sight, sir.’
‘Absolutely. So you’re bored, eh? Looking for a bit of a challenge?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘All right – here’s a challenge for you. Go back to your classroom, apologize to Miss Blackburn, complete the work she set and bring it to me, correct and beautifully presented at three thirty, by which time I’ll have sorted out a job that’ll keep you interested till, say, half past four. What do you say?’
‘I don’t know, sir.’
‘You say, thank you sir. What do you say?’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘I should think so. Now off you go. Fairy rings indeed. What next, I ask myself.’
‘I can’t get over old Blackbum though,’ growled Carrie, ‘picking on you just because you’re a traveller.’ The gang was dawdling homeward.
Rosie shook her head. ‘It really doesn’t matter, Carrie. Mum and Dad move on all the time so I’m never long at one school, except in winter. I don’t care what teachers think of me.’
Peter looked at her. ‘What about winter, Rosie?’
The girl smiled. ‘There’s this showground near Warwick, with toilets and showers and everything. It’s not used in winter so the owner lets us stay there. Not just us, but loads of travellers. It’s no fun travelling in the middle of winter, but it’s fun at Warwick. We meet up with people we haven’t seen all summer. Us kids enrol at the local school on the first of November and leave on the first of April.’
Carrie pulled a face. ‘Lucky you. Must feel great, packing up and moving out as soon as the sun shines. So long everybody – see you in November. Wish my folks were travellers.’
Rosie nodded. ‘It does feel great, but it’s got a downside. No telly for instance.’
‘No telly?’ Carrie sounded horrified.
‘’Course not. We live in an old ambulance.’
‘Jeez, I wouldn’t be you.’
Rosie grinned. ‘You just said you wished your folks were travellers.’
‘Well yeah, but … no telly? Phew!’
‘There’s that,’ said Rosie, ‘plus sometimes it seems the world’s full of people like old Blackbum.’
Peter smiled. ‘And Lee Kippax.’
‘Yes.’ Rosie looked thoughtful. ‘I’ve been thinking about him all day, or rather his dad.’
‘His dad?’ Peter looked baffled. ‘Why have you been thinking about him, Rosie?
Rosie smiled. ‘Remember when old Massingberd was talking to the nurse, and she said she’d had some guy up to look at her window frames?’
‘Yes, I remember.’
‘She said his name was Kipper or Kepler, right?’
‘Something like that, yes.’ Peter looked at her. ‘You mean it was … ?’
‘Kippax, of course. He’s a joiner, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, he is. His workshop’s near Sizzlers.’
‘Right. He’s a joiner, and he was up at the Manor inspecting windows. He’d have to go inside to do that, wouldn’t he?’
‘I guess so.’
‘And if there were paintings on the wall he’d see them.’
‘I suppose.’ His mouth fell open. ‘Are you saying … ?’
‘I’m not saying anything, Pete, except old Kippax probably saw those paintings a short time before they were stolen.’ She smiled. ‘Could be a coincidence, like us arriving at Inchlake just before the burglary. On the other hand …’
‘On the other hand,’ whispered Conrad, ‘it might be interesting if a certain bunch of kids went invisible and did a bit of snooping round the Kippax residence.’
Rosie nodded. ‘Took the words right out of my mouth, Con. What say we start tonight?’
Twenty past six. Lee Kippax in jeans, T-shirt and trainers stands on the concrete apron in front of his parents’ double garage, lobbing shots at the basketball hoop fixed over the door. Neither Foxcroft nor Fairclough have shown up to play with him, and he’s bored.
As the bully lobs his forty-eighth shot (nine baskets, thirty-nine misses) something extraordinary happens. The ball drops through the bottom of the net but instead of hitting the apron and bouncing, it stops in mid-air. Lee stares at it. The word hey falls feebly from his lips. He glances towards the house, hoping his mum’s at the window. His mum has already refused to believe he saw a jumper wave at him. Tiredness, she says. Too much television. What you need’s a few early nights. If she was there he’d point. Look, Mum – is that tiredness? Is it television? but she’s not there. His father’s not around either. Why are grown-ups never around when you want them?
The ball’s still there though, a metre above the ground. Lee stares, hoping there’s a thread or something but there isn’t. The stupid thing’s floating on nothing, like the moon. He tries praying for a witness, but either his prayer goes unheard or the answer’s no. He’s moistening his top lip with his tongue when the ball chuckles.
What? Laughing at me, is it? Nobody laughs at …
‘MUM!’ Suddenly it’s too much and he runs, pelting up the side of the garage. ‘MY BALL’S STUCK IN MID-AIR AND IT’S LAUGHING AT ME.’
‘Mum – my ball’s stuck in mid-air and it’s laughing at me.’ The Invisibles fell about as Conrad ran round the altar stone, pretending to be Kippax. They’d pulled their clothes from the recess and made themselves visible again. It was a breezy evening and they had Inchlake Ring to themselves.
‘What a spack,’ choked Charlotte. ‘His mum’ll think he’s gone completely bonkers.’
Peter wiped his eyes on a tissue. ‘I loved the way you caught that ball, Carrie. Lee’s face was amazing – like a cartoon. Mind you, we didn’t do much snooping.’
Rosie looked at him. ‘We probably saw more than you think, Pete.’
‘How d’you mean? All we did was spook old Kipper.’
‘Ah, but while you were all messing about, I was using my eyes.’
‘Oh yeah? And what did you spot, Sherlock?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘Never you mind, Pete. I saw what I saw, and I’ll tell you all about it when the time’s right.’ She gazed at the darkening sky. ‘I think we’d better go before our folks report us missing.’
As they trudged down the footpath a chill breeze penetrated their T-shirts.
Charlotte shivered. ‘There’s a touch of autumn in this wind.’
‘Don’t say that,’ protested Conrad. ‘I want summer to go on for ever so we can keep going invisible. Can you imagine walking about stark naked in the snow?’
‘Oooh!’ Carrie hugged herself. ‘It was bad enough tonight, and it’s only September. We’ll just have to make the most of it while we can and stop for the winter, like we do with rollerblades and biking.’
Rosie smiled. ‘You’ll be fed up of it by then, anyway.’
‘No chance!’ Conrad shook his head. ‘It’s the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ll never be fed up.’
‘Me neither.’ Peter looked at Rosie. ‘How old did you say we’ll be when it stops working?’
‘Oh – twelve or thirteen. It depends. But as I say, you’ll be off it long before then.’
‘Not a chance. I’m gonna do it summer and winter while I can. I don’t want to waste a second.’
It was quite dark when they reached the village outskirts. With brief goodnights they separated and four of them hurried towards their homes. The odd one out was Peter. He pretended to head for home, but as soon as the others were out of sight he changed course and walked rapidly towards Inchlake School.
‘Oh there you are, Rosie.’ Daddy Bear was sitting cross-legged by the fire, plaiting strips of leather for a belt. ‘We were about to call the police, report you missing.’
Rosie grinned. ‘Yeah, right.’ She knew he was joking.
‘Tea if you want some.’ He jerked his head towards the billie in the embers. ‘Is anybody coming to this bar
bie of ours, Friday?’
Rosie poured tea into her mug. ‘Oh, yes. Everybody, I think.’
Daddy Bear smiled. ‘You mean Miss Blackburn’s planning to be here?’
‘You know what I mean. All the Invisibles.’
Mummy Bear appeared, carrying a rolled newspaper. ‘We thought you’d forgotten where you live, child.’ She sat down. ‘Any of that tea left?’
Rosie passed the billie. One of the things she liked about her parents was that they hardly ever quizzed her. Most parents would have insisted on knowing where she’d been. She nodded at the newspaper. ‘Anything thrilling in there?’
Mummy Bear chuckled. ‘Not really, sweetheart. I got it for the burglary, but it doesn’t say much.’
‘Does it say gipsies did it?’
‘No, but it says the police are stepping up their inquiries, which probably means we can expect another visit. Tells you what they’re looking for, too.’
‘Paintings. We knew that already.’
‘Yes, but we didn’t know what paintings. Two Turner seascapes, worth millions.’ She smiled. ‘You’ve seen Turners haven’t you, Rosie? Fantastic skies, sunlight like some great explosion, gilding everything.’ Mummy Bear smiled. ‘His dying words were, The sun is God.’
Rosie nearly said the Inchlake Invisibles were stepping up their own inquiries. Nearly, but not quite.
Mr Rabbit was irritated. He was supposed to be meeting two guys from work at half past eight, but he didn’t dare leave while his wife was in a flap. Mrs Rabbit’s flap was due to the fact that Peter wasn’t home yet.
‘He’ll be all right,’ soothed Mr Rabbit. ‘You know how kids are: they get playing and forget the time.’
‘It’s easy for you,’ snapped his wife. ‘All you’re bothered about is your silly appointment. He could be floating face-down in the canal or lying somewhere with a broken leg for all you care.’
Peter wasn’t floating face-down in the canal or lying with a broken leg. He was sitting invisible on the settee, listening to his parents argue. They usually argued when he was in bed, so it was interesting for once to be able to hear what they were saying. Of course he knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but so what? They’d never know.
‘That’s not fair, Sue,’ protested Mr Rabbit. ‘I care about the boy just as much as you do. More perhaps, since you’d have preferred a girl.’
Mrs Rabbit glared at her husband. ‘Oh that’s right – throw that in my face again. You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?’
Mr Rabbit shrugged. ‘You brought up the subject of caring, Sue, not me. All I’m saying …’
The row grew more heated but Peter wasn’t following it now. He was staring horrified at his mother while a stricken voice inside his head whimpered, You didn’t want me, you wanted a girl. You’re my mum, but I could walk out of here right now and never come back and you wouldn’t even care.
His father was pacing the room, looking at his watch. His mother, her face like thunder, lifted a corner of the curtain and tutted, letting it fall. They were waiting for him, but not because they cared. He was spoiling their evening, that’s all. They hated him. He could see it in their faces. He got up and crept from the room, fighting the aching lump in his throat.
If someone’s invisible, can you see their tears?
‘Lee?’
The boy was hanging about near the teachers’ car park, looking miserable. He turned as Rosie spoke his name. ‘What do you want, gipsy?’
‘Just to talk.’
‘What about?’
‘About what you saw yesterday, on the field.’
‘Oh yeah? What about it?’
‘I want you to know you’re not going crazy, that’s all.’
‘Crazy? I know I’m not going crazy. What makes you think I think I’m going crazy?’
Rosie gazed at him. ‘You weren’t looking too happy just now, Lee, and it can be a bit of a shock, seeing somebody vanish. And you did see it, that’s what I wanted to say. It’s a sort of trick I do, so like, you don’t need a doctor or anything.’
He scowled at her. ‘How about telling The Bee all this. And my dad.’
‘No way. This is strictly a kid thing. No adults. If you tell anyone I’ll just deny it.’
‘Uh … I don’t suppose … you weren’t around my place last night, by any chance?’
Rosie grinned. ‘Funny you should say that, Lee.’
‘Why – were you?’
‘Of course. Balls don’t really hang in mid-air, do they? And they certainly don’t laugh.’
The boy goggled. ‘That was you? Really?’ Hope in his voice, and the very beginning of joy.
‘Sure it was.’ She chuckled. ‘I thought you said you weren’t worried.’
‘Yeah, well …’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s … you know … the way nobody believes you. You know you saw what you saw, but everybody’s giving you funny looks and after a bit you start thinking, Did I see it, or am I going round the twist? It’s scary.’
‘Well you can quit worrying, and you can tell Lee and Carl to chill out too, only don’t try telling any grown-ups because they won’t believe a word.’ She winked. ‘See you, apple-thief.’
‘Hang on.’ He looked at her. ‘This trick of yours. You wouldn’t … I mean … how about teaching me, huh? There’s a million ways I could use a trick like that.’
She nodded. ‘I just bet there are, and I can imagine what some of them would be, too.’ She shook her head. ‘Sorry, Lee. You’re just not ready for that sort of responsibility. See you later.’
‘Good day, sweetheart?’
Rosie stowed her bag in the miniature cupboard under her bed. When your home’s that small you’ve got to be tidy. She smiled up at Mummy Bear. ‘Not bad. You?’
‘Terrific. Sold a dozen belts and took orders for another dozen, didn’t we, Daddy?’
‘Sure did.’ Daddy Bear grinned. ‘Inchlake’s crazy for hand-crafted leather.’
‘Does this mean we can afford some Chinese takeaway for supper, Dad?’
‘Oh, I think we might stretch to it … but only if you talked to Lee Kippax.’
Rosie nodded. ‘I did. Told him to stop worrying.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘Oh, he tried to pretend he wasn’t bothered but he was really relieved. You could tell.’
‘I’m not surprised, sweetheart. It can’t be much fun, wondering if you’re losing your marbles. So you’re friends now, are you?’
‘I wouldn’t say that, no.’ She grinned. ‘He wanted me to teach him the trick. Said there were a million ways he could use it.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I told him he wasn’t ready for the responsibility.’
Daddy Bear gazed at his daughter. ‘And what about yourself, Rosie? Will you be a little more responsible from now on? No more driving bullies bonkers as a way of getting even?’
The girl blushed. ‘I won’t do that again, Daddy Bear. Promise.’
‘Even when they call you thief or gipsy?’
‘Even when they call me thief or gipsy.’
He nodded. ‘Good. So, who fancies what from the Chinese chippy?’
They’d polished off their chicken fried rice and were munching prawn crackers when they heard a car.
‘Hey up.’ Daddy Bear got to his feet, looking towards the sound. ‘Police I expect, stepping up their inquiries.’
It wasn’t the police. It was a man in a suit, looking pretty upset. Daddy Bear gazed at him. He’d never seen him before.
‘Can I help you?’
The man was glancing this way and that, as though looking for somebody. He saw Rosie by the fire. ‘Are you at the local school – Miss Blackburn’s class?’
Rosie swallowed a cheekful of cracker and nodded. ‘Yes I am.’
‘So you’ll know Peter – Peter Rabbit?’
She nodded again. ‘He’s my friend.’
Mummy Bear stood up. ‘What’s this about, Mr …?’
‘Well no, Mr Rabbit, I’m afraid we’ve not seen him. Have you told the police?’
‘It was the first thing we did, but you know what they’re like. Shouldn’t worry, sir, he’ll show up at bedtime. They usually do. It’s all right for them. They don’t have Mrs Rabbit to cope with.’
‘No.’ Mummy Bear looked at Rosie. ‘Did you talk to Peter at school today, sweetheart?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘And did he seem OK? I mean, not worried or anything?’
‘He was a bit quieter than usual, I suppose.’
‘But he didn’t mention going anywhere after school?’
‘No.’
Daddy Bear looked at Mr Rabbit. ‘Why don’t you sit down a minute, have a cup of tea? You look just about jiggered. We’ll clear away, then take the van out and help you search. How’s that sound?’
The man nodded. ‘I could murder a cuppa now you come to mention it, and I don’t suppose a few minutes’ll make much difference. Thanks.’ He sat down on the grass. Daddy Bear poured tea from the billie into a mug and handed it to him. Mr Rabbit sipped gratefully as the three travellers cleared up the remains of their supper and damped down the fire. It was seven o’clock and quite dark when the two vehicles swung out onto the road and growled off in opposite directions, going slowly.
Rosie pressed her face to the glass, peering out, thinking, I hope the daft beggar’s not gone invisible or there’s no chance. She turned to Mummy Bear. ‘Go towards Inchlake Ring, Mum. I want to check something out.’
Peter wasn’t invisible, but tramping a country lane between high hedges at two in the morning he was pretty hard to see. Not that there was anyone to see him. The road from Inchlake to Sowerby isn’t used much at night, and if he heard a vehicle he’d duck down in the ditch till it passed.
Invisible! Page 5