by Laura Wood
“Sorry, Aunt Elaine… I mean, Miss… I mean…” I floundered, as I felt her arms grip me close in a hug, clinging on to me tightly, although her icy glare remained pretty icy.
(Oh. Yes. I should probably catch you up on a couple of things here. In addition to being my chemistry teacher, as the result of a long and rather twisty investigation, I had recently discovered that Miss Susan was my real live aunt. Miss Susan’s identical twin sister, Evangeline, my mother, was the one who left me at the circus many years ago. Are you keeping up? It’s complicated stuff, I know.)
Anyway, at this precise moment my aunt was definitely being more teacher-like than aunt-like and she did not look pleased with me. “I cannot believe you would be so utterly rrrrreckless,” she spluttered, her rolling rs a good sign that she was very angry.
A man came puffing up behind her, wearing some kind of grey uniform. “Are you all right?” he asked, his bald head red and shiny from his run. I nodded weakly. “I don’t know what happened,” he said, looking wildly at Miss Susan. “I was just delivering some laundry to the girls’ dorm and when I came back outside the van was gone!” He turned to me, as though checking I was really all right. “I can’t understand it,” he muttered.
“I pressed on the brakes but they weren’t working,” I said, and his face wore a look of confusion.
“But they were working fine before…” He was looking a bit green. “I’d better phone a mechanic and have someone come and take a look.”
“Yes, you had,” Miss Susan snapped, and she looked the man over from the top of his head to the tips of his toes with such complete and utter disdain that I thought he was going to cry. “It is rrrrrrridiculous that you would bring such an unsafe vehicle on to school grounds and I intend to take the matter up with your supervisor.” The man gulped, and then Miss Susan turned her flashing eyes on me. “And as for you, young lady…” she began.
“I just wanted to stop anyone getting hurt,” I mumbled, feeling suddenly very shaky, as the realization of just how dangerous that particular stunt had been came crashing down on me.
“And you did.” Kip’s big voice came to my defence, and I spied him behind Miss Susan, his face still pale. “You saved Riley’s life!” he exclaimed.
“He’s right,” a voice joined in, as Mei emerged from the crowd and came to stand next to Kip, the worshipful gaze she had previously reserved for him now blasting firmly in my direction. “You did, you saved his life!”
“Not before you saved mine!” I grinned a wobbly grin at Kip and punched him lightly on the arm. “You pulled me out of the way!”
Kip seemed to swell up with pride and he looked practically two whole centimetres taller.
By now Riley had staggered over. His face was pale underneath his mop of red hair and his freckles stood out like a lot of very definite full stops on a clean sheet of paper. “Thanks, Poppy,” he wheezed. “I owe you one!” He gave me a weak smile and a thumbs up.
Kip was nodding eagerly. “Without Poppy, you would have been flattened like a pancake for sure,” he added. “Completely splatted, utterly—”
“Yes, thank you, Kip,” Miss Susan cut in as Riley’s face began to turn a peculiar shade of green. “That’s quite enough of that.”
“Well, me and that other person,” I said quickly, looking about to see where the shadowy figure had gone. “Who was it who pushed you out of the way?” I asked Riley.
“I don’t know,” he said, spreading his hands in front of him. “It all happened so quickly… By the time I knew what was going on whoever it was had already disappeared.”
CHAPTER THREE
I felt my eyebrows twitch at this information. As a top detective I’m always on the lookout for a mystery, and this disappearing rescuer certainly had the potential to be the start of a new adventure. Come to think of it, the whole runaway-van thing seemed a little off to me. I glanced around, looking for someone, anyone, who could have pushed Riley out of the way. Why would someone save him and then keep it a secret? In my experience, most people love to take credit for their heroic deeds. It didn’t make any sense. As the crowd started to disperse, I realized that my own legs felt decidedly unsteady. Miss Susan took the opportunity to move me away from the van, her arm still tight around my shoulders.
“I think we’d better go and sit down,” she said, her voice more gentle now. “Shall we take your suitcase up to your room?”
I nodded, still looking about me and trying to spot whoever it was who had helped me in my rescue attempt.
“I’ll catch you later, Poppy,” Kip said, a small worried frown pinching at his forehead. “Are you sure you’re OK?”
“I’m fine,” I said, rolling my shoulders back and forth. “It just happened a bit faster than it usually does with a horse.” Kip looked a little perplexed by this, so I cast around for something that he would find more reassuring. “Why don’t you go and check out the cake situation?” I suggested, reminding him of his mission. “Nab a couple for me and Ingrid? She’s probably in our room already so we can come and find you later.”
As I expected, the thought of tasty baked goods restored Kip’s positive demeanour in no time. “OK,” he said, nodding solemnly, as though agreeing to undertake the most sacred of quests. “I shall not fail you,” he muttered, nobly – although the loud grumble of his stomach rather ruined the effect. I pretended not to notice.
With that Miss Susan and I recovered my suitcase from where I had abandoned it at the side of the road and made our way towards the girls’ dorm, in search of Ingrid and a comfy seat. We arrived at my room to find both of my roommates already in residence. It was with great joy that I opened the door to find Letty dressed in highly authentic-looking lederhosen, with a green feathered cap perched on top of her dark, curly hair.
“GUTEN TAG, POPPY!” she shouted, whirling past me. “Can’t stop, I’m off to language club. I’m Germany this year … didn’t fancy being France again after the moustache incident – we both know how long it took to get that off. Who knew permanent markers were so … permanent? Anyway, I’m so happy to see you, can’t wait to catch up. I’ve got photography club and hockey practice later, but I’ll see you in between that and astronomy club, OK? Byyyyyyyyye.” With that, she whizzed past me. “Oh, hello, Miss Susan,” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared round the corner.
“That girl is…” Miss Susan trailed off, shaking her head. I knew just what she meant though; Letty is the busiest person I have ever met – she in involved in absolutely every club and society going at Saint Smithen’s, and she is even in charge of most of them.
Now that Letty had gone I had time to take in the dorm room, and I realized immediately that something was wrong. Very wrong. Because my dearest, bestest pal Ingrid was looking at me. At me. In my face. Now, anyone who knows Ingrid knows that to see Ingrid without a book in front of her short-sighted eyes means trouble. Instead of my hazy, dreamy friend, the girl in front of me was alert and crackling with secrets that she couldn’t wait to spill. I could see it as clearly as the glasses on her face.
“Hello!” she exclaimed, shooting a pointed look over my shoulder at Miss Susan and jerking her head.
“Hi!” I responded like a robot as we stood several feet apart. It seemed that whatever Ingrid needed to tell me, she couldn’t share it in front of my aunt. I floundered, wondering how best to proceed and, in a moment of panic, I thrust my arm forward.
Ingrid looked at it blankly and then tentatively stepped forward and reached out to shake my hand. “Nice to see you,” I said in a very jolly voice.
“Yes. Likewise,” replied Ingrid, and we stood wringing each other’s hands like a couple of bankers closing a big deal.
Miss Susan’s eyes darted between us. “My,” she said dryly, “I hadn’t realized you two were so formal.”
“Oh, yes,” I said eagerly, finally dropping Ingrid’s hand. “One shouldn’t underestimate the importance of good manners, should one?”
“One shouldn’t,” Miss Su
san replied, still eyeing me suspiciously.
“Did you know that the custom of shaking hands goes all the way back to Ancient Greece?” Ingrid piped up helpfully. “There are depictions of it from as early as the fifth century BC.”
We both turned to face Miss Susan with winning smiles. I could feel my own winning smile starting to hurt my cheeks a bit.
“Right,” Miss Susan said finally. “Well, I’d better leave you two to it then.”
“Oh. Yes,” I said, stretching my arms and yawning an enormous over-the-top yawn. “I am quite tired after all that, um, ruckus. Probably best to have a bit of a rest.”
Miss Susan didn’t say anything but if I didn’t know her better I would have sworn she was trying not to laugh. “I’ll see you later, Poppy. I thought perhaps you and your friends might like to have tea with me after dinner tonight?” There was something lit-up and hopeful in her face as she said it.
“Yes, please,” I said in response to the invitation, suddenly feeling a little shy.
We were on a really excellent school trip at the seaside when I found out Miss Susan and I were related and even now, a few months later, we were still getting used to the idea. We’d shared a few nice moments together since then but my favourite one had happened just after I discovered she was my aunt. She came to find me with a box of Turkish delight – the really good, proper sticky stuff like you read about in books. “My favourite,” I had told her. “Mine too,” she’d replied. We hadn’t said much else, just sat side by side, munching on sweets in a sort of friendly silence. Then she put her arm around me and I leaned in against her. A warm feeling came over me whenever I thought about that moment. It felt so good to have more family, to finally know more about where I came from. Since then we had been meeting for weekly tea-and-cake sessions, getting to know each other properly. It had been a bit strange at first but now it was something I actually looked forward to. I hadn’t been sure if we’d carry on after the holidays – we hadn’t talked about it – so I was relieved that she had asked straight away, and this was the first time she had invited Kip and Ingrid too.
“OK.” Miss Susan’s face went a bit pink at my reply and she looked pleased. Then she straightened her back and waved a stern finger in our direction. “And whatever mischief you two are up to, please trrry not to hurl yourself into the path of any more oncoming traffic.”
“Yes, miss,” I said, smiling sweetly.
“What was that about?” Ingrid asked as soon as Miss Susan was out the door.
“Oh, nothing,” I said with a wave of my hand. “More importantly, what is going on with you? You’re all…” I looked her over, searching for the right word. “Fizzy,” I said, finally.
Ingrid grabbed my arm. “That’s because if I can’t tell you what has happened right this second then I might EXPLODE.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Tell me what?” I asked eagerly.
Ingrid released my arm and ran over to her bed. She reached under her pillow and pulled out a large envelope. My heart jumped up into my mouth at the sight of it. On the front, in familiar handwriting, were the words “ONLY to be used in case of REAL Emergency”.
“Oh!” I gasped.
“I know!” Ingrid nodded, her eyes enormous behind her thick spectacles. “It was pushed under our door.”
Silently, I took the envelope from her. My hand was trembling.
You see, this envelope was the newest clue in a very big mystery. Perhaps the biggest mystery I would ever encounter … because it had something to do with my mother.
Remember that I told you I was left at the circus with a note signed with an E? Well, that’s not all that was left with me. There was also a heart-shaped necklace, a receipt for a pair of trainers from “Sal’s Shoe Shop”, and a card with a long number on it. That card said “For emergencies” and it turned out that the number was an impossibly long phone number.
“Are you going to open it?” Ingrid’s voice was hesitant. We had waited such a long time for another clue, something to explain the mysterious phone number and why it had been left behind with me … and now it was possible that I held the answer in my hand.
With shaking fingers, I tore the envelope open and gently shook the contents out on to my bed. A card fluttered out, with a long number written in neat, curving handwriting. “02789304428394573920,” I read aloud, before turning my attention to the other piece of paper. It was a receipt for a purple umbrella from a place called Tooraloora’s Umberjigs.
I sighed. “It’s the same thing,” I said, frustrated. “The same as last time, just a receipt and a phone number.” There was no explanation, no clue as to who was behind the messages.
When Miss Susan had revealed herself to be my aunt she had also told me that my mum died six years ago. It felt strange – after all, how can you miss something (or someone) you never had? I’m not sure what the answer is to that, but I do know that finding out my mum wasn’t around any more was difficult and sad. I suppose some small part of me had always thought we would be reunited, and that she would be able to explain why she had given me up, why she left me at the circus.
The details were hazy, but from what Miss Susan knew, Evangeline had been killed in a car accident while she was travelling for work. Apparently she was a writer and she used to travel all over the world writing stories – I guess that’s where I get my excellent writing skills from.
Ingrid turned the envelope over in her hands, reading the writing there again. “Someone wants to make it clear that the number is only to be used when there’s a real emergency,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s why nothing happened when we called the number last time?”
Ingrid was right. For months we had been waiting for something else to happen, after we called the first number. The person on the other end of the phone had been from Sal’s Shoe Shop and they had asked for the details on my receipt before promptly hanging up on me, but since then there had been nothing. NOTHING. And we had no more clues left to follow. Our investigation had hit a complete dead end.
Until now.
I thought about what Ingrid had said. “Hmmm…” I murmured, scrunching up my nose. “You mean maybe nothing happened after the phone call last time because we weren’t actually in an emergency situation when we dialled the number? So there was no need for anyone to come and help us?”
Ingrid nodded, slowly at first, but then quicker as realization dawned. It was obvious that she was coming to the same conclusion that was currently reaching a rolling boil in the soup pot of my own brain.
“But that means … that means…” I stammered. “…It means that the people on the phone knew it wasn’t an emergency.”
Ingrid made a small squeaking noise. “And that means…” She trailed off.
“That someone must have come to make sure we were OK!” I finished, throwing my hands up in the air, still clutching the two new clues. “They must have been here. They must have checked in on us.”
I took the envelope from Ingrid’s hands and peered at it closely. “This could have been stuck under our door any time over the summer holidays,” I said, puffing my cheeks out in frustration. “By anyone. How are we going to narrow down the timeframe?”
“I don’t think we need to,” Ingrid said quickly, her voice shrill with excitement. “When I arrived earlier I dropped off my bags and then I realized I’d forgotten one of my books so I ran back to the car. The envelope wasn’t here when I went to the car, but it was there on the floor when I got back. Someone delivered it today … in fact they delivered it precisely between ten and ten-oh-five!”
“Excellent detective work!” I exclaimed admiringly, and a pleased smile crept across Ingrid’s face. “But that means the person involved was here, in this room, such a short time ago!” My hands flapped helplessly by my sides. “It feels like we’re so close to answers and so far away at the same time.” I was still staring at the envelope and there was something nagging at me.
“There’s something els
e,” I said slowly, brushing my fingers lightly over the writing on the front. “The handwriting on here is the same, exactly the same, as the handwriting before.” I put the clues down and swung my suitcase up on to the bed, unzipping it and hastily pulling out the envelope that was sitting on top of all my clothes. Once I put the old notes side by side with the new ones it was obvious that I was right.
“But that’s impossible!” Ingrid said, her forehead crumpled. “Your mum left that stuff with you, but she can’t have written the new note…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at me hesitantly.
“All this time we assumed the notes were from my mum,” I said, unable to drag my eyes away from the mysterious messages, “but they can’t have been. Not if the same person is writing new notes now. There has to be someone else involved. Someone who knows why I was left at the circus. Someone who’s watching over me … but who?”
CHAPTER FIVE
We both stared in silence at the notes, our brains completely and utterly boggled.
“Oh!” I exclaimed suddenly, a memory stirring in my dazed brain.
“What’s wrong?” Ingrid asked, peering at me with worried eyes.
“It was just that, talking about someone watching us – it reminded me that I thought … earlier on … by the school gates. I’m not sure, but I really thought someone was watching me.”
“Did you see them?” Ingrid breathed.
“No,” I said, frustrated. “It was just a feeling. A really odd feeling. And it’s not the first time, either.” My eyes widened, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. “Over the summer I felt it too. That someone was there, right in the corner of my eye. I thought I was being silly, but now…” I trailed off, biting my lip.
Ingrid looked understandably shaken by this news. “You think someone’s watching you? Why? To make sure you’re OK?”
I didn’t know what to think, but what Ingrid said was tugging at something in my brain. “Maybe someone is watching over me,” I said slowly. “Just a few minutes ago there was almost an accident, and this mysterious figure appeared and saved the day, but they were gone before anyone really saw them.”