“I’m coming with you. You’re not going on your own,” Jack said.
Through the wooden green-painted gate and up the twisting path they went. Then Betty knocked on the door. They waited. There was no answer. But a curtain twitched behind the ground-floor window. Betty banged the brass knocker against the door again. No answer.
“There’s nobody in,” Betty said. “Let’s go round to the back of the house.”
“We can’t do that. You’re not allowed to go into people’s back gardens unless you ask them first,” Jack said.
“Look, we’re investigating. Detectives are allowed. They can go wherever they need to, if it helps with their case. I should know, I’ve read books about them,” she said.
“But, Betty, this is real life we’re talking about. Real life and fantasy are all mixed up in that head of yours. One day you’ll find out that life isn’t like it is in books,” he said.
“And one day you’ll find out that there’s more to life than you know about. It all looks simple to you. But it’s not,” she said. “Well, I’m going round the back. You can come with me or stay here.” With that she stormed off – angry about him making fun of her.
She stomped up the path leading to the garden while Jack followed lamely. A wooden fence outlined the boundary of the whole garden. There were a few fruit trees growing out of the overgrown grass. A faded brown curtain-line hung from one tree to another. At the bottom of the garden stood an old water trough, filled with rain water.
They walked to the back door and looked into the cottage through its window panel. They heard a noise behind them. Quickly turning around, now facing the bottom of the garden, they saw an old man standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. An untidy white-matted beard had grown down far too long. He was thin and wore dirty clothes. He raised his head as if to challenge the two children.
“What are you two doing in my garden?” he asked, not sounding very pleased with the intruders.
“Erm..., W-w-well...,” Jack stumbled over his words.
“We’re here to look for a friend,” Betty butted in. “Adrian, his name is. He was my brother’s friend.”
“And this here is your brother, I take it?” the old man said, uncrossing his arms and pointing a thin finger in Jack’s direction.
“Yes, that’s right. That’s my brother. His name’s Jack,” she went on.
“Jack, ah, Jack. Are you sure you’re a friend of his?” the old man asked, looking Jack straight in the eye.
“Erm... W-w-we weren’t exactly best friends. He was in a different class from me, but I used to see him during breaks,” Jack was struggling to convince the man.
“So if you weren’t ‘exactly best friends’, why would you be looking for him?” the old man asked.
“We were just passing and Jack said ‘let’s call on Adrian, he lives here.’ So I said ‘yes, let’s do that.’ You see, I like meeting my brother’s friends. They’re such fun...” Betty lied.
“Don’t talk tosh, young girl. You were both playing marbles across the road for a good long time and you’re telling me you were passing by. No-one passes by here. This road leads to nowhere. There are only fields and the forest beyond,” the old man said sternly.
It was getting tricky. Jack felt a pearl of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead from his hair. He looked at Betty. What were they to do?
“Erm...” Jack started, “Can he come out to play?”
“No, he can’t because he’s not here. He hasn’t been here for a long time. Now get out of my garden and go home, you irritating children, before I get my stick and chase you away,” he said.
“Please, sir!” Betty pleaded, putting on a face that matched her begging. “Please, please, can you tell us where we can find him?”
The man calmed down a little. “I will tell you all I know as long as you promise to go away and leave me in peace once and for all. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, we promise, cross my heart and hope to die,” Betty said, making three cross signs on her chest in the place where her heart was.
“I came to live here when his family moved out. They went up north somewhere. The father got a job there.”
“Can you please tell us whereabouts they went?” Jack asked.
“Please, please...” Betty added.
“I have their address somewhere. Come round into the house and I’ll get it for you. Not being best friends, it seems strange you are going to all this bother to find him,” the old man mumbled, “very strange.”
As the old man turned to go back to the house, Betty’s eyes fell on the water trough. Peering at them behind it was a pair of wide green eyes, in a pitch-black furry head. It looked like a cat’s head with ears pointing straight up. But it was far too big to be a cat. It clung to the trough with its paws. Its arms looked like those of a monkey. But it wasn’t a monkey either. Its hands were like those of humans. Five fingers, but its nails were very long, like claws. She had never seen an animal like this before. What was it? As they followed the old man back down the path towards the house, Betty turned round to see the creature tiptoe off behind a gigantic mushroom in the bottom right-hand corner of the garden, behind the high rubbish tip. A frog was jumping about on top of the mushroom.
“Can I wait in the garden while my brother comes and gets the address, please?” Betty asked putting on her pleading face again. “I love gardens.”
“I don’t mind,” the old man answered, “anyway we won’t be long. I think I put it in a biscuit tin,” he said more to himself than to Jack.
Jack knew Betty was up to something. He just wished that the old man would find the address quickly so that they could leave before Betty did something really stupid.
“Ah, I think it was here,” said the old man looking in one of his biscuit tins. But it wasn’t there. “It has to be here somewhere. Listen, son; just move all those papers off the chair and sit down a minute while I look for it.”
They talked for a while about school and other boring subjects grown-ups always talk about. Yawn. But, at least, Jack found out that the old man’s name was Wilfred.
“Erm... can I go in the garden, please? I want to go and call my sister,” Jack said, to get away from the boredom.
“You needn’t hurry, son. I’ll come out and call you when I’ve found the address,” Wilfred said, as Jack flew out of the back door in a flash – fast for once. “Now, where-oh-where have I put that piece of paper...” he went on muttering.
“Betty!” Jack called out. But there was no answer.
It wasn’t like Betty not to answer. Maybe she’d gone back home. But that wasn’t like Betty either. She never gave up. There were so many weeds and bushes in the garden that Jack decided Betty must be playing a trick on him and hiding somewhere. “Betty, come out at once do you hear me? This instant, Betty. I mean it, I’ll go home without you.”
There was no reply. Complete silence had come down on the garden.
“I’ll have to come and get you, then,” he said. But he felt uncomfortable. It was eerie. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. But there was something scary in that garden. Was he starting to have an imagination his sister’s? No, he was Jack. He was down-to-the-ground solid. Not airy-fairy like his sister. She must be playing her irritating, stupid games. She was really getting up his nose, and into his ears and eyes as well.
Wilfred appeared. “Here it is. I found it at last. In the bread-bin it was. I don’t know how it came to be there. As you can see the family moved up north – to Eldonburyshire...”
Jack took the piece of paper. “My sister... we left her here in the garden, didn’t we? But she’s disappeared.”
“She must have gone back home. Soon got bored with the garden, didn’t she? Run along, son. She’ll be waiting at home for you, no doubt,” Wilfred said.
CHAPTER 9
“Ha, ha,” Judge Ormerod laughed out loudly, slamming the door to Soloman’s room as he entered “Here we are, at last!”
“Why? How long have I been here?” Soloman asked.
“Never you mind. It seems to me you want to know too much, young man. I’m here to help you,” Judge Ormerod lied.
“To help me?” Soloman said, “I think not. If you really wanted to help, you’d let me out of here so I can go back home.”
“HOME, HOME! This is your home now. I know that you live on your own. You are an intelligent young man, and that makes you dangerous. Why are there so many clever young boys here?! Why can’t I live in a town full of young dumbos?!” Judge Ormerod shouted, with spittle dribbling out of the side of his mouth – down the left-hand corner.
“I live on my own. But my neighbours will miss me. People will notice I’m not playing my violin on street corners any more,” Soloman tried defending himself.
“Utter tosh. Your neighbours never cared much about you. And as for the people of Fort Willow, they’ll soon forget about you. Already have, in fact,” Judge Ormerod said.
“Somebody will come looking for me, I’m sure of that,” Soloman answered, “I’m sure somebody will,” Soloman repeated to get his point over.
Judge Ormerod wasn’t at all affected by Soloman’s sadness.
“I tell you what,” Judge Ormerod said, “you will be able to leave at some point, but now’s not the time. Accept that you’ve got to stay here and it will make life easier for you. Ah! And I have a little drink for you. A bottle of the best. It’s a special potion. You will find it disgusting, but when you get desperately thirsty, you’ll be glad to drink it.”
“I’ll never drink it,” Soloman replied. “Never, ever.”
“Yes, you will, because until you’ve drunk that potion you won’t get any food or other drink. So just be a good little boy and play ball, will you?” said Judge Ormerod.
“No, I won’t. Let me out of here!” said Soloman, stamping his feet.
“I’m not repeating everything I’ve already said to you, young man. You are too sure of yourself and you think you can do as you please. Well you can’t! You must do as you are told. I’ll leave the bottle here on the window-sill and, sooner or later, you will be happy to drink it,” Judge Ormerod said, moving towards the door.
“Please, Judge Ormerod,” Soloman changed his tactics. “Please, can you tell me about those animals next door.”
“What animals?” Judge Ormerod asked. “There are no animals around here.”
“There are. I’ve seen them through the keyhole and also tiptoeing around outside in the garden among the mushrooms.”
Judge Ormerod gave Soloman an evil look as he went out, slammed the door behind him and carefully locked it. “I’ll be back,” Judge Ormerod shouted from the other side of the door.
Soloman sat staring at the bottle and wondering what to do next. He couldn’t escape from the barred window, nor could he ever open the heavy wooden door of his room. He started pacing up and down. The creaking sound of the floor boards kept him company.
What was he to do? He had an idea and ran to the wall connecting his room to that of the animals. Soloman started scratching on the wall, but it was no good, his nails were not strong or long enough to make much sound. So he took one of his shoes off and started banging it on the same wall, thinking that this would attract the animals’ attention. It did. A scratching sound on the other side of the wall was an answer to his plea.
“Come round to the keyhole,” Soloman shouted.
Soloman rushed to the keyhole to see if one of the animals had heard him and had done as he’d asked. No-one there. All was still on the other side of his door. Soloman waited. Suddenly he saw a black blob that had blocked all the light out. The animal was right up against the keyhole. It understood him!
“Can you help me get out of this room?” Soloman shouted through the door. He waited a bit. Nothing. But then...
A strange screeching cry came out of the animal’s throat. A sound Soloman had never heard before. What on earth was this creature? The animal’s answer was no good to Soloman. There had to be a way. Soloman would not give up. He was about to ask the animal another question, but it had gone. Light was coming in through the keyhole and he couldn’t see anyone there at all. He went back to banging his shoe against the wall. No answer came back this time, although Soloman waited and waited for one.
He was tired now. Tired, hungry and thirsty. Lying on his bed, he looked at the bottle on the window sill. Maybe if he drank it Judge Ormerod might let him out the next time he came to visit. But, no. Why should he give in to such a bully? He wasn’t desperate enough to drink that dirty brown liquid. It looked revolting. Judge Ormerod did not know what he was up against. Soloman would NOT cave in.
Soloman fell asleep and morning came soon enough. He was desperately hungry. His stomach was painful with cramps coming and going. His mouth was dry. Not only that. He was beginning to feel dirty. Yes, his clothes smelled. All the things we do in our day-to-day lives are taken for granted when we can do them. But when we can’t, like Soloman couldn’t, you realise how good it is to be clean, tidy and fed.
He stared at the daylight outside and wondered when he would be let out. He went over to the window and saw three of the animals tiptoeing, jumping and turning somersaults among the mushrooms. Were these the same animals he’d heard in the room next door? One looked up to his window. Soloman waved at it with both arms to attract its attention. It slowly tiptoed towards Soloman, until it stood directly below his window. Soloman could only open the window a little way through the bars. He’d have to shout through this chink:
“Do you understand me?”
The creature nodded. It understood Soloman, but it could only answer back by nodding or shaking its head.
Soloman was getting somewhere now. All he had to do was to ask questions that could be answered by a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.
“Do you live here? Are you in the room next to mine?”
The creature nodded.
“So, it was you scratching on the wall yesterday?”
The creature nodded again.
“What’s your name?”
The creature let out a screech. It drew an “A” in the gravel with its foot. Of course, it couldn’t answer that question. But, Soloman had understood that its name began with an “A”.
“Please write out the rest of your name.”
The creature covered the “A” over by smoothing out the stones. Then one after another he drew the letters “d” “r” “i” “a” and “n”. That spelt “Adrian.
“Adrian, is it you? Are you the Adrian who was at school with me? If so, this is Soloman, your best friend. Look Adrian, I’m trapped here in this room. I want to get out. It was Judge Ormerod and his friends, three weird sisters, who put me here...”
The creature kept nodding as if it knew all about this.
“Can you help me get out of here?”
The creature shook its head. Soloman felt stupid – how could an animal help him escape? The animal had run off to a large mushroom to join another two creatures like itself.
“Adrian, come back. I need your help!” Soloman called out.
But the creatures took no notice of him. They carried on jumping around the mushroom on the tips of their toes.
Soloman was sad. On top of that, he was desperate to quench his thirst. He looked out to the lake beyond. If only he could throw himself into that fresh water. Just the thought of it made him feel good. The potion sitting on the table seemed to call him.
He picked the bottle up and took the top off. He slowly brought the rim to his lips and gave it a sip. That quenched his thirst a little and he felt so much better. Drinking down the rest came naturally. Oh, he felt so much better. At least he had something in his stomach. He went back to the bed and lay there. Coming over all drowsy, he fell into a deep sleep.
It wasn’t until evening that Judge Ormerod came back again. The noise of the turning lock woke Soloman up. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Judge Ormerod staring down at him
.
“Well done, boy. So you drank the potion as you were told. You’re free to roam around the Education Centre though you won’t be able to leave the grounds just yet – even creatures like you can’t get over those glass shards.”
Soloman looked down at himself. What had happened to him? He was all black and furry. He looked down at his hands. Those hands that had played the violin so well. He still had five fingers. But what had happened to his nails? They were like claws. He lifted his arm up to feel his head and face. They were hairy all over. And his ears weren’t at the side of his head anymore. They were standing straight up on his head – like those of a cat.
He tiptoed to the window where he saw Adrian with other creatures in the distance between the trees. The door of his room had been left open and Judge Ormerod had gone. So Soloman tiptoed down the staircase, turned a somersault through the front door and into the garden. Here he joined the other Janjilons.
CHAPTER 10
“Mum, is Betty home?” said Jack, rushing in through the door.
“No, she was with you.”
“I know but she disappeared so I thought she’d come back home,” said Jack.
“What are you saying, Jack?” his mother grabbed him and hugged him. She was getting worried.
“I’m saying that all of a sudden she wasn’t there anymore, so I thought she’d come home.”
“Well, where were you when you saw her last?” his mother asked with a quivering voice.
“We were in Adrian’s garden, we went there to...”
“Adrian’s garden! Where’s that? What were you doing there?”
“I hadn’t seen Adrian for a long time. I knew he’d been sent away. It seemed strange so we went there to find out. You know what Betty’s like. Her and her books and the way she wants to live out her stories.”
“She might have gone somewhere else, of course. Maybe she’s at Sandra’s house. Or Veronica’s. Why don’t you go round there and see? They’re probably playing and have forgotten about the time. You kids will be the death of me. You two worry me sick!”
Petronella and the Janjilons Page 4