by Mary Evans
Elliot steadied his nerves. He wasn’t sure how much more truth he could handle. But there was no going back now.
My parents were wonderful people – I know they will have raised you to be a fine young man. But, of course, I didn’t appreciate them, growing up. I was always something of a tearaway – living on a remote farm seemed so boring to me in my youth, so I went looking for my own entertainment. I’m not going to lie, Elliot. As a kid, I was a pain in the bum.
Elliot smiled. That sounded familiar.
But then your mother came along. From the moment I laid eyes on Josie, I’d found the rest of my life. When we were blessed with you, all I wanted to do was to make the best life for you both at Home Farm.
Dad was a great farmer and happy with his lot – too much so, I thought. I wanted to grow the farm and buy the surrounding fields. But your grandad was having none of it. He said the land was bad and would never grow crops. I was convinced I was right and went to the bank for a loan. But no bank in the world was going to lend money to a Hooper.
Thinking I knew better, I did something incredibly stupid. I borrowed money from Stanley Johnson, a local scumbag who gave big loans with no questions asked. What he asked instead was enormous interest – so huge, you never had a hope of meeting your payments. Dad was right. The land was bad. The money was wasted. Stanley’s loan got bigger and bigger until there was no way I could ever pay it back.
Elliot sighed. Another massive loan causing problems for his parents. Financial planning was clearly not his family’s strong point.
And that’s when Johnson offered alternative means of repayment. At first it was small things – running errands, passing on messages. Then he wanted me to hide things for him – I guessed they were stolen, but I didn’t want to know. Your grandad had plenty to say about that. And then . . . well, you can guess what he asked in the end. He wanted me to go with him to rob the lovely Kowalski family. You must think I should have told him to take a running jump. But let’s just say that Stanley could be very persuasive.
You’ve no doubt heard what happened that night and must think me a terrible person. But you have to believe me, Elliot – I never meant to hurt anyone. Least of all poor Felix Simpson.
Felix – the librarian? Constable Simpson? Were they the same person? Was Felix the policeman his dad had shot? Why hadn’t he told him?
There is so much more to tell you, Elliot, but I must go if this letter is to reach you for your birthday. I so hope it does – and that it is such a happy thirteenth birthday for you. Every year I go to the prison chapel, light a candle for your special day and wish that one year I will be able to celebrate it with you.
I won’t contact you again unless I hear from you. This is a huge amount to take in, and I understand if you and your mum want nothing to do with me. But Dad always said that the pen writes on. And while it does, I’ll keep wishing on that candle.
With all my love – and please tell your mother how much I love her too,
Dad
Xxx
PS – I like eating too and always hated school. Ties are a bad idea, as is prison food.
Elliot folded the letter and released a slow breath. His dad wasn’t a ruthless crook. He was a desperate man.
A desperate man who shot someone in cold blood, said his dark voice.
Elliot had a sudden urge to talk to Mum – perhaps if she read the letter, it might jog some memory, perhaps she could tell him some more?
As he walked towards the front door, he noticed smoke curling out from under the door. He smiled – Hephaestus must be cooking.
He pulled his keys out of his satchel and tried to push his doorkey into the lock. It wouldn’t fit.
‘Mum?’ he called softly, struggling with his key. ‘Mum?’
He choked slightly on the smoke. Mum must have locked the door from the inside. Her keys would be in the lock.
‘Mum!’ he shouted, knocking at the door. ‘Mum! Hephaestus!’
‘Elliot? How do?’ said a familiar voice behind him.
Elliot spun around in horror. Standing next to him was Hephaestus. If he was out here – then who was . . . He started to hammer at the door.
‘MUM!’ he yelled, throwing his body at the door. ‘MUM! She’s stuck inside – I think there’s a fire!’
‘Stand back!’ roared Zeus, unsheathing a thunderbolt as Athene and Aphrodite came running from the barn behind him.
Receiving an almighty zap for his efforts, Zeus hurled the thunderbolt at the oak door, blasting it apart.
‘Elliot – wait,’ said Athene. ‘You don’t know—’
But Elliot wasn’t waiting for anything. He charged into the smoke-filled hallway, the Gods hard on his heels.
‘Mum? Mum – where are you?!’ cried Elliot as Athene raced to extinguish the pan that was on fire in the kitchen.
‘E – look!’ cried Hermes. Water was cascading down the stairs. The pair of them ran up to the bathroom, where the overflowing bathtub was sloshing water all over the floor.
Elliot pushed back the tears as he choked on the smoke still filling the house. He burst through his mum’s bedroom door. There was Mum, lying totally still on the bed. Was she . . .?
‘Please,’ he whispered tearfully. ‘Please . . .’
‘Elly?’ she said sleepily, wincing at the light invading the dark room. ‘Is it time for breakfast?’
A tsunami of relief overwhelmed Elliot as he hugged his mum.
The Gods came bundling into her bedroom behind him.
‘Where the blazes were you, Heffer?’ shouted Zeus.
‘I left you a note in the forge!’ shrieked Aphrodite.
‘Haven’t been there all day,’ said Hephaestus. ‘I had a . . . building project to work on.’
‘Josie!’ sighed Athene, running in and taking her in her arms. ‘Thank heavens! I’ll get the kettle on . . .’
‘Leave her alone!’ hissed Elliot, pushing the Goddess away. He was beyond anger.
‘I made you some supper and ran you a bath,’ said Josie, sitting up with a smile. ‘Did you enjoy them?’
‘They were great, Mum,’ said Elliot, scowling at the ashen-faced Gods. ‘I’ll get you that cup of tea.’
Ten minutes later, Elliot returned to the blackened kitchen, where the Gods were assessing the damage from the fire. He was trembling with rage. As soon as they saw him, the Goddesses ran over and embraced him.
‘Elly – we are so, so sorry,’ pleaded Aphrodite with tears in her eyes. ‘We had no idea she was on her own.’
‘It’s completely unacceptable,’ said Athene. ‘We should be with her at all times, please accept our sincerest apologies, we are mortified.’
‘I’m so sorry, young Elliot,’ mumbled the blacksmith. ‘I’ll make this right, I swear it . . .’
Zeus looked mournfully at Elliot with his lined face. Elliot silently refused the apology.
‘I just don’t understand how you can—’ Elliot began.
‘Elliot?’ said Josie angrily, running into the kitchen. ‘Where are the keys? I need to find my keys . . .’
‘It’s OK, Mum,’ sighed Elliot impatiently. ‘We’ve got the keys.’
‘The keys – we must stop the bad man,’ muttered Josie, hurrying into the hallway.
‘Please, Elly,’ begged Aphrodite. ‘You have to trust us. We can keep you safe . . .’
‘Like you kept Mum safe!’ Elliot shouted.
The Gods looked shamefully at each other.
‘The truth is that you’re living in my house while I’m out there trying to find your Chaos Stones and you can’t even be bothered to do the one thing I ask of you!’
‘Elliot, that’s not true,’ said Zeus. ‘We’d do anything for you and Josie . . .’
‘Except the one thing I really need you to do!’ shouted Elliot. ‘You won’t cure her!’
‘Elliot, we can’t cure her – no one can . . .’ said Athene, reaching for him.
‘You don’t know that!’ yelled Elliot, kn
ocking her arm away. ‘You don’t know anything about her! You don’t know anything about me! You don’t—’
‘Elly . . . we must find the keys!’ shouted Josie, running back into the kitchen. ‘Where have you put—’
A volcano of anger, pain and frustration erupted inside Elliot. He spun around to his mother.
‘NO ONE HAS TAKEN YOUR STUPID KEYS, OK!’ he shouted in Josie’s face. ‘SO JUST SHUT UP ABOUT THEM!’
The kitchen fell silent. Elliot’s mother looked as though her son had punched her in the stomach. Tears welled up in her eyes and she started shaking uncontrollably.
‘I . . . I . . . I’m sorry,’ Josie sobbed, ‘I just want to find my keys. We need to lock the door. We need to stay safe.’
‘Elliot!’ cried Athene, running to Josie’s side.
‘Everyone just . . . just . . . LEAVE ME ALONE!’ shouted Elliot, snatching his satchel from the table and storming up to his bedroom.
26. Fallen Heroes
‘You should have told me, Felix!’ Elliot raged in the Little Motbury library the next morning. ‘You should have told me it was you!’
Virgo puffed up the stairs behind him. Running across a wet field chasing an angry mortal child was highly sub-optimal compared to constellation travel. If only the Council would send her kardia back – she must have left a dozen messages . . . Besides, it was all very well for the Gods to say that Elliot might listen to her, but she would’ve liked to have seen Zeus try to keep up.
‘Hello, Elliot,’ the librarian said calmly. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Hello, Felix,’ said Virgo, rushing in. ‘I’m afraid—’
‘I don’t want a cup of tea!’ shouted Elliot. ‘I want some answers!’
‘Then perhaps you should ask some questions,’ said Felix. ‘Please. Take a seat.’
Virgo happily collapsed into the chair he placed before her.
Felix pulled up another chair and waited for Elliot to sit down. He stood defiantly. That boy was as stubborn as a middle-class mule. But eventually he slid into it.
‘Thank you,’ said Felix. ‘Now, what would you like to know?’
‘You were there!’ said Elliot. ‘You were there at the robbery! My dad shot you! Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘You had just discovered one difficult truth,’ said Felix. ‘I feared another one would distress you further. It appears I was correct.’
‘What . . . when . . . how . . .?’ Elliot burbled.
Virgo had only gleaned snippets of information from a breathless Elliot as they ran towards the library, but the situation could be summarized roughly thus: Elliot’s father was a butt-head, this gentleman Felix was a butt-head, all the Gods were particular butt-heads, should Virgo venture an opinion, she too would be a butt-head and Elliot was generally displeased with the universe and everyone in it, who were, broadly speaking, all butt-heads.
Virgo observed Elliot more closely. It appeared his eyes were starting to leak.
‘You’ve had a big shock,’ said Felix. ‘Please let me make you that tea.’
Elliot wiped his face with his sleeve and nodded weakly. Felix poured two cups of tea from the pot on his desk.
‘Thanks,’ said Elliot sheepishly.
Virgo accepted hers politely. She had noted that tea was the standard mortal response to a crisis. Further investigation was needed to fully understand this beverage’s powers.
‘Perhaps it would help if I told you about that night from my perspective?’ said Felix.
‘OK,’ said Elliot, taking a sip of his tea.
‘Ten years ago, I was Little Motbury’s policeman,’ Felix began. ‘I confess I found the life of a village bobby rather dull – so when a call came in about an armed robbery at Kowalski Gems, I was quite excited. Too excited, in fact – I charged in without back-up.’
Felix offered Elliot and Virgo a custard cream. Biscuits also seemed to solve a great deal of mortal problems, Virgo reflected, but this she understood better.
‘I was a younger man then and rather more brave – foolish, some might say,’ Felix continued. ‘I burst into the shop and wrestled Stanley Johnson to the floor, kicking his gun away. In my haste, I hadn’t realized that your father was also there and armed with a shotgun.’
‘So he shot you,’ whispered Elliot, looking at the floor.
‘Johnson screamed at him to shoot me, but your father hesitated,’ Felix explained. ‘Stanley wriggled out of my grasp and went for his gun – it was clear to us both that once he got his hands on a weapon, he would not hesitate to use it. I could see your father struggling as Stanley reached for his gun, so he did the only thing he could.’
‘By shooting you?’
‘I’d known your father since we were boys,’ smiled Felix. ‘He was quite the local Jack the Lad, but his heart was in the right place. Dave Hooper was a famous crack shot. If he’d wanted to kill me, he could have done so easily. The shot he took at my leg was enough to make Johnson believe he’d taken me out. Johnson saw his chance and ran away.’
‘But the police caught my dad,’ mumbled Elliot.
‘When they arrived – fifteen minutes later,’ said Felix.
Elliot stared at him. Virgo shared his confusion – that was highly illogical.
‘Elliot, your father stayed with me,’ said Felix. ‘He bandaged me up, stopped the bleeding, remained by my side until help arrived. The same help that arrested him. He could have run and saved himself. But he chose to save me instead.’
‘Why didn’t you say something?’ asked Elliot. ‘Maybe he wouldn’t have gone to prison.’
‘Let’s just say I was a little less . . . philosophical at the time,’ said Felix. ‘That night cost me my police career. For a long while I was in a lot of pain, physically and mentally. In time, I did what I could to help him. But, ultimately, your father shot a policeman. That’s a serious crime.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Virgo through a mouthful of biscuit. ‘Elliot’s father caused you enormous pain and distress. The logical response would be considerable anger and possibly some swears. I have compiled a list if you require some . . .’
‘I was angry for a while,’ said Felix. ‘But time calms the heart. I have a son who, back then, was not much older than you two. The greatest joy of my life has been watching him grow. Your father has been denied your childhood. I can’t imagine a worse punishment.’
Elliot sat in silence. Felix rose from his chair and opened a small drawer in his desk. He produced a letter.
‘I received this from the parole board last week, informing me of your father’s possible release,’ Felix continued. ‘They say he’s been a model prisoner. Did you know he’s taken a law degree during his time there?’
‘Really?’ said Elliot.
‘Really,’ said Felix. ‘He tutors other inmates who didn’t have the benefit of an education. He’s really turned his life around. As have I. In a funny way, that night set us both on a different course. One that I hope will lead us both to happiness.’
‘You wish him to be happy?’ said Virgo. ‘After what he did to you?’
‘Elliot’s father has paid his dues,’ said Felix. ‘He wrote to me from prison to apologize for what he did. It took me a while, but eventually I wrote back. We’ve been pen-pals ever since. I wrote to him only this week, in fact, to tell him I’d met his son – and what a fine young lad he was.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Elliot.
‘Anger is a heavy burden, Elliot,’ said Felix. ‘It’s exhausting to carry around. Forgiveness lets us put it down.’
‘Forgiveness?’ said Virgo. ‘This is what Hercules sought. So this “forgiveness” allows you to cease being angry and return to a state of calm?’
‘It does,’ smiled Felix.
Virgo was impressed. Forgiveness was even more powerful than custard creams.
‘Do you think I should let him come home?’ Elliot asked.
‘Only one person can answer that, Elliot,’ said
Felix. ‘You need to talk to your mother.’
‘I wish I could,’ Elliot said quietly. He suddenly twitched strangely in his chair. Virgo pondered whether it was the arrival of inspiration, or merely lice.
‘Thank you,’ said Elliot, rising to leave. ‘I’m sorry for what my dad did.’
‘There’s no apology needed from you – your father has done that many times over. You shouldn’t regret a past you can’t change,’ said Felix. ‘Focus on the future that you can. I found my peace a long time ago. I hope your father finds his. And most importantly, Elliot Hooper – I hope you can find yours.’
Felix opened his arms and embraced Elliot.
‘Gracious,’ said Virgo. ‘This forgiveness is extraordinary. I will try to remember it next time you forget to flush.’
27. Caught in a Trap
Hephaestus had kept his eyes peeled for any sign of Mrs Horse’s-Bum or Boil all morning. Whenever those dozy blighters dared to show their faces, he was ready for them – he’d spent all day yesterday building them a little surprise. Everyone was in a right mood with him – who reads a stupid note anyway? – but once they saw what he’d been doing, he’d be the hero of the hour.
But by lunchtime, there was still nothing. Perhaps the national idiot convention was in town and they’d got held up?
The Gods had told him not to take his eyes off Josie while they cleaned up the damage to the farmhouse, so he peered in on the dear girl, who had been napping quietly in her chair the whole morning. Fast asleep. The blacksmith didn’t know what all the fuss was about. This was a piece of cake.
Something twitching beyond the fence caught his eye. Checking Josie was still asleep, he crept outside with a smile. Show time.
With all the palaver of the last few days, Hephaestus hadn’t mentioned his plan to Zeus. He couldn’t wait to see the look on his boss’s face when he got home and found Horse’s-Bum and Boil suspended in a giant iron net. Zeus would have a thunderbolt with their names on it. That’d learn ’em.