‘What is it?’
‘Dunno.’ The man peered into the gloom. ‘Bat, maybe. Never mind.’ He shoved her forward, but they’d taken only two paces when there was a sharp scraping noise and a match flared. Kippax started violently. ‘WHO’S THERE?’ The flame steadied, trembling in a draught. He couldn’t see the hand that held it. ‘WHO IS IT?’
‘Nobody, Robert Kippax. Nobody at all.’ Rosie’s heart soared. The voice was distorted by echo and disguised to sound like a ghost’s, but she recognized it and smiled. Good old Pete.
Kippax was shaken. Rosie felt the hand that held her hair start to twitch and bit her lip to keep from giggling. The match dwindled and died. The man continued to stare at the place, seeing a greenish blob. ‘I’M WARNING YOU, WHOEVER YOU ARE,’ he bellowed. ‘NOBODY MESSES WITH BOB KIPPAX. NOBODY.’
‘That’s right, Robert Kippax, and that’s exactly who I am. Nobody. Look.’ A second match, in a different spot. This one moved up and down, from side to side, back and forth, its little globe of brightness revealing no part of the speaker. The tremor in Kippax’s hand grew more pronounced. Any second now, thought Rosie, he’s gonna forget I’m here and let go. For the moment though he went on deploying the bully’s weapon, bluster.
‘YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS. YOU CAN’T STAY IN HERE FOR EVER AND WHEN YOU COME OUT I’LL BE WAITING.’ He stared into the blackness, breathing heavily. Rosie stood absolutely still, saying nothing.
‘You are so wrong, Robert Kippax. So wrong. We can stay here for ever, for this is our hoo – ooom.’ Rosie nearly burst out laughing as Carrie made the word home sound like the hoot of an owl. Its echo had scarcely faded when the voice continued. ‘You have entered our home uninvited, and for that you must be punished.’ At this point somebody evidently struck the man because he swung round with an oath and threw a punch, relinquishing his hold on Rosie’s hair to do so. She stepped lightly to one side and was lost to him at once.
‘HEY!’ The frightened bully spun round, groping for his victim. Three metres away Rosie stood holding her breath, knowing she was as safe from him now as if she were on Mars. ‘DON’T THINK I CAN’T SEE YOU, GIPSY, ‘CAUSE I CAN. GET HERE – NOW!’
‘Temper, Robert Kippax.’ Con’s voice, hollow in the gloom.
Kippax turned slowly on the spot, unable to tell where the speaker was. ‘YOU DON’T SCARE ME WITH YOUR SILLY PUT-ON VOICE, SO DON’T THINK IT.’
‘You sound afraid, notwithstanding, and I see you’ve lost your prisoner. Perhaps you should leave.’
‘I’M NOT LEAVING TILL I GET WHAT I CAME FOR.’
‘You’ll get what you came for if you stay, Robert Kippax – that I promise you.’
‘HOWDYA MEAN?’
‘Stay, and find out.’
‘I’m not. I’m going, but I’ll be waiting, and when you come out I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.’ He moved towards a faint luminescence which marked the position of the entrance. ‘THAT GOES FOR YOU TOO, GIPSY.’
It was then the laughter started. Demoniacal laughter from every direction at once, echoing and re-echoing till it seemed the ice house harboured a thousand devils. He tried to go slowly. Tried to hold on to what was left of his dignity but the laughter woke a memory from the distant past – a film he’d seen as a kid, set in a creepy Victorian asylum. He hadn’t slept properly for weeks after watching that film, and he’d nursed a secret dread ever since – a dread of losing his mind and being dragged off screaming to a place like the asylum in that film. He quickened his pace, muttering to himself as the laughter ricocheted inside his skull. I’m not mad, just because I see matches that strike themselves and hover in the air, like … like Lee with that ball. (Runs in families, madness.) I’m not mad. Not mad. He stumbled sobbing towards the light and looked up and there, gazing down at him, was the most famous pop star in England.
Of course he was.
Split’s Mercedes had swung through the gateposts of Inchlake Manor seven minutes behind the blue van. It could have been two minutes and Kippax might never have got Rosie as far as the ice house, but Split missed the turn first time and had to backtrack. By the time he and Charlotte came in sight of the house there was no sign of either the joiner or the girl, but the van was there with its engine ticking over and Lee in the driver’s seat. The boy’s jaw dropped when Split stuck his head through the window.
‘Rosie – where is she?’
‘Uh – you. You’re just like that singer – you know – Split le Beau?’
‘I am Split, and I’ll split you if you don’t answer my question. WHERE’S ROSIE?’
‘You’re him? Wow! Uh … Rosie said the ice house, whatever that is. They went that way’ He flapped an arm towards the shrubbery.
‘They?’
‘Huh?’
‘You said they.’
‘Yeah – Rosie and Dad.’
The star straightened up and looked at Charlotte. ‘The ice house?’
‘Yes, I’ve been there.’
‘Lead on then, quick.’
They heard the racket in the ice house long before they reached it. ‘Oh God!’ sobbed Charlotte, ‘he’s murdering her.’ They pelted towards the mossy dome and round it, reaching the doorway in time to see a dishevelled Bob Kippax scrabbling to haul himself out. Peals of ghastly laughter pursued him as he heaved his top half clear and flopped gasping on the grass. Noticing a crocodile shoe three centimetres from his nose he looked up, straight into the face of Split le Beau.
‘Aaaagh!’ He writhed on the ground, kneading his eyes with his fists. ‘I’m not mad, I tell you. Not mad.’
As the ice house laughter dwindled, there was a crashing in the bushes and a policeman burst out yelling, ‘I know you’re in there, Miss Walk. Come out quietly and you won’t get…’ He skidded to a halt, goggling at the man on the ground. ‘Bob?’
‘I’m not mad!’ Kippax got up on his hands and knees and crawled towards the officer. ‘They’re real, those matches. I saw them strike themselves. Wave themselves about. And the voices, laughing at me. They’re real too.’ He grabbed his school chum’s ankles and rested his forehead on the toecaps of his boots. ‘Don’t let them put me away, Steve. Prison, yeah – I deserve that, but not the … not the loony bin.’
As Kippax blubbed on Stables’ size elevens, there was movement inside the ice house and Rosie stuck her head out. ‘Oh hi, Charlotte. Glad you could make it. Everyone else is here.’ Three grinning faces appeared. Carrie recognized Split and squealed. ‘Oooh, look who it is. Shift yourself, Rosie – let me get at him.’
Split leaned towards Charlotte and whispered in her ear. ‘Your friend seems to be OK so I’ll slip away before I’m mobbed. Nice meeting you, Charlotte.’
As the superstar vanished into the bushes, Bob Kippax plucked at the constable’s trousers.
‘See – he’s real, isn’t he, and you wouldn’t expect to see …’ He gestured to where he’d last seen Split, but he wasn’t there. Stables glanced where Kippax was pointing, then down at his friend. ‘Who, Bob? Who wouldn’t you expect to see?’
Kippax appealed to Charlotte. ‘Tell him, kid. Tell him Split le Beau was here.’
Charlotte frowned and shook her head. ‘Split le Beau? Here? I’m afraid you’re seeing things, Mr Kippax.’
Hometime, Friday October 22nd. Three weeks had rolled by since the exciting events at Inchlake Manor. The weather had grown colder, especially first thing in the morning. Next week the clocks would go back. Winter was closing in.
‘So, children.’ Miss Blackburn stood up, rubbed her hands together and smiled. ‘The time has come when we must all say goodbye to Rosie Walk.’ She beamed at Rosie, who had become something of a heroine since her ordeal in the ice house. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever see you again, Rosie, but I’m sure everybody here joins me in wishing you good luck in the future.’ A murmur of assent rippled round the classroom. Every eye was on Rosie. She blushed.
‘Thanks, miss. Thanks, everybody.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t expect
to miss Inchlake very much, because we travellers see so many places and after a while they all run into one. I never miss schools either, but I do miss people, and I know I’m going to miss all of you.’
The children, unsure what response was called for, smiled and nodded. Then somebody at the back started clapping. Everybody looked round. It was Lee Kippax, who’d become a different boy – a happier boy since his father went away. He looked at his classmates, growled ‘Come on then,’ and everybody began to clap, including the teacher. Rosie picked up her bag and hurried from the room with flaming cheeks.
‘Good send-off or what?’ grinned Peter, when they were clear of the school.
Rosie groaned. ‘I nearly died. Trust old Lee to embarrass the heck out of me at the last minute.’
Conrad chuckled. ‘He’s grateful to you, Rosie. Life’s really opened up for him since that awful dad of his went to prison.’
Rosie grinned. ‘Not very nice for him, though.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Carrie. ‘He’ll be relieved it’s prison and not the loony-bin after what he saw in that ice house.’
‘Thought he saw,’ amended Peter, straight-faced.
Carrie nodded. ‘That’s what I meant.’
‘Boo!’ They jumped and squealed as Charlotte sprang from behind the phone box.
Rosie goggled. ‘How’d you get here so quick?’
Charlotte grinned. ‘Told Miss Weekes I had a dentist appointment. Well – I couldn’t let you go without saying goodbye, could I? Besides, I’ve got a secret to tell.’
Carrie looked at her. ‘If you tell, it’ll stop being a secret.’
‘No it won’t. It’ll be a secret known only to our gang. I know you won’t spread it around.’
‘What is it, then?’
‘It’s about Miss Massingberd.’
‘Miss Massingberd?’ Conrad groaned. ‘Can’t be anything exciting then, can it?’
‘Well – it’s about Split le Beau as well.’
‘Miss Massingberd and Split le Beau? Don’t tell me … they’re getting married, right?’
‘No, you smeghead! Miss Massingberd’s off to live with her sister in Devon, and guess who’s buying the Manor?’
‘Not…?’
‘Yes – Split le Beau. Isn’t that great? We’ll see him all the time.’
Rosie shook her head. ‘I won’t.’
‘Oh no, you won’t, will you? I never thought of that.’
‘Well don’t let it worry you, Charlotte. I’m used to meeting people and then not seeing them any more.’ She smiled. ‘It’s about to happen right now, in fact.’ They’d reached the old Cleeston Road. Rosie stopped. ‘Listen, you guys – long goodbyes screw me up, so it’d be cool if you didn’t come any further with me, OK?’ There was a break in her voice, as though she was talking round an aching lump. The others looked at their feet.
Peter murmured, ‘I thought I’d come and say thanks to your folks, Rosie. Y’know – for the barbie and that.’
Rosie shook her head. ‘No need, Pete. They know you enjoyed yourself.’
‘Yeah, but…’
‘It’s not what people say, Pete – it’s what they do. They only had to look at you to know the evening was a hit.’
He nodded. ‘OK.’
‘You off tonight?’ asked Conrad.
Rosie shook her head. ‘Tomorrow, first thing. We’ll be at Warwick by lunchtime.’ She looked at the four of them. ‘Think you’ll go invisible now and then?’
‘Hmm.’ They shuffled, looking down.
‘Winter’s coming on,’ mumbled Conrad. ‘Too cold. Next spring, maybe.’
Peter nodded. ‘Yeah, spring.’
Carrie said nothing at all.
Rosie nodded, knowing they’d never be invisible again. Some things sound fun till you try them, then you discover the downside. ‘I’m off, then. Think of me sometimes if you don’t forget.’
Peter blinked and swallowed. ‘’Course we won’t forget, how could we?’ His smile was watery. ‘The Inchlake Invisibles. We’ll always be your gang, Rosie, even if we never meet again.’
Rosie smiled. ‘Great last line, Pete. Look after one another. ‘Bye.’
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Robert Swindells left school at fifteen and worked as a copyholder on a local newspaper. At seventeen he joined the RAF for three years, two of which he served in Germany. He then worked as a clerk, an engineer and a printer before training and working as a teacher. He is now a full time writer and lives on the Yorkshire moors.
He has written many books for young readers, including many for the Transworld children’s lists, his first of which, Room 13, won the 1990 Children’s Book Award, whilst his latest, Abomination, won the 1999 Stockport Children’s Book Award and was shortlisted for the Whitbread Prize, the Sheffield Children’s Book Award, the Lancashire Children’s Book Award and the 1999 Children’s Book Award. His books for older readers include Stone Cold, which won the 1994 Carnegie Medal, as well as the award-winning Brother in the Land. As well as writing, Robert Swindells enjoys keeping fit, travelling and reading.
ROOM 13
Robert Swindells
The night before her school trip, Fliss has a terrible nightmare about a dark, sinister house – a house with a ghastly secret in room thirteen. Arriving in Whitby, she discovers that the hotel they will be staying in looks very like the house in the dream. There is one important difference – there is no room thirteen.
Or is there? At the stroke of midnight, something strange happens to the linen cupboard on the dim landing. Something strange is happening to Ellie-May Sunderland too, and Fliss and her friends find themselves drawn into a desperate bid to save her.
‘A splendid spooky story’
The School Librarian
WINNER OF THE 1990 CHILDREN’S BOOK AWARD
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CORGI YEARLING BOOKS
JACQUELINE HYDE
Robert Swindells
‘I was bursting with energy, ready for anything. For the first time in my life, I was alive. Fully alive.’
Jacqueline Hyde has always been a good girl. But from the moment she finds the little glass bottle in Grandma’s attic, Jacqueline’s life changes. Suddenly she’s cheeky and loud, in with the roughest gang at school – Jacqueline Bad.
It’s fun at first. Exciting. But then Jacqueline Bad gets into serious trouble. And although she keeps trying to be her old self, the bad side just won’t let go…
‘Utterly believable… the breathless, short chapters make page turning unavoidable’ Junior Bookshelf
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Invisible! Page 10