Dr Briggs laughed. ‘What can the poor man say? But I dare say it was much more boring than your uncle’s presentation. That was fun.’
‘What was your presentation?’ I asked.
‘I’m afraid it did have a rather boring title as well,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘It was called Fantasy and Reality in Children’s Fiction.’
‘So?’
‘Well, I tried to suggest that the line between fantasy and reality is rather fuzzier than most people realise.’
‘And he suggested it very well,’ said Bella, forking a mouthful of lasagne into her mouth. ‘Very amusingly.’
I remembered the feeling I’d had on our walk, when Uncle Felix had pointed out all the places in the real world he’d put in his book, and I remembered going down the zigzag path to the locked concrete shed, the shed where the real world turned into the fantastic world. I thought, too, how both of these worlds existed in Uncle Felix’s strange brain and how in that strange brain the line between the real world and the fantastic world was probably fuzzier than I imagined.
It was suddenly a little spooky.
‘So,’ said Bella, changing the subject, ‘how are the red rats?’
Uncle Felix turned to me. ‘I told Bella about the rats,’ he said.
‘Well?’ asked Dr Briggs.
‘There have been a couple of rather odd twists in the rats’ tale,’ said Uncle Felix.
‘Tail or tale?’ smiled Dr Briggs.
‘Both, probably,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘But you tell the story, David. You’re probably better acquainted with the finer details.’
So I gave her a pretty full account of all that had happened since the first transformation.
‘How very unusual,’ said Dr Briggs, staring at me when I’d finished.
‘It’s more than unusual,’ I said. ‘It’s completely bizarre!’
‘What do you make of it, Felix?’ asked Dr Briggs.
‘Uncle Felix believes it’s magic,’ I said.
Uncle Felix coughed. ‘In a way,’ he said. ‘David and I were talking about it. You know, real magic versus trickery magic. I do a little of the trickery magic, so I have some familiarity with the tricks of the trade, you might say.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, there are all sorts of ways conjurers manage to pull the wool over their audiences. One way is palming, you know, hiding an object in your hand. It takes a lot of practice, but it’s a skill that can be acquired. You can do it with a coin, in fact I did it with a coin for the family the other night.’
‘I thought as much,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ smiled Uncle Felix, ‘but you didn’t know as much!’
‘And?’
‘Another, and rather more clumsy method is substitution. This is when you previously plant an object and when it is “discovered” the audience presumes it’s an original object you had caused to “vanish” earlier.’
I began to see what he was getting at.
‘So you think … ?’
Uncle Felix nodded. ‘I’m almost certain.’ he said. ‘Everybody had gone out,’ he explained. ‘Gray, too. Gray was first back, and then guess what? The rats were white again. My question, as a practising magician, was: Were they the same rats?’
‘I see,’ I said slowly.
‘It’s pretty clear to me,’ he said, tugging at his moustache, ‘that Gray would have gone to a pet shop, bought two replacement white rats, brought them home, exchanged them for the red rats—’
‘Simon and Garfunkel,’ I said.
‘Yes, and then, I imagine, he would have thrown or otherwise released Simon and Garfunkel over the neighbour’s fence.’
‘For Rusty the cat to find,’ I said. ‘That makes so much sense.’
‘Poor Simon,’ said Dr Briggs. ‘Or was it poor Garfunkel?’
‘Dunno,’ I said. ‘I could never tell them apart, really. I’m pretty sure Gray couldn’t either.’
‘That would explain why Gray was so flat rather than being really pleased,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘He knew he hadn’t really solved the problem, if there was one, and he knew that the rats hadn’t really changed their colour back to white. He was probably feeling a little guilty about the subterfuge.’
‘Subter-what?’ I asked.
‘Trick,’ said Dr Briggs. ‘The trick.’
‘Yes,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘The magic. And he would have got away with it, too, if—’
‘Rusty hadn’t got one of the rats,’ I said.
‘More significantly,’ said Uncle Felix, looking at Dr Briggs, ‘if the new rats hadn’t turned red, same as the old ones.’
There was a long pause in the conversation. Dr Briggs idly stirred her coffee and Uncle Felix had gone somewhere in his head, staring sightlessly across the room.
Eventually, Dr Briggs murmured, ’So strange.’
‘Eh?’ asked Uncle Felix, returning to earth.
‘The red rats,’ said Dr Briggs. ‘I wonder what it’s all about.’
‘Uncle Felix reckons it’s a signal,’ I said.
‘I know,’ said Dr Briggs. ‘He told me.’
I looked a little surprised, but I figured it was probably something weird enough to want to tell an old friend about.
But then Uncle Felix said something that surprised and puzzled me even more.
‘Even stranger, though, Bella,’ he said. ‘The concrete hut was locked.’
When we were going home in the taxi Uncle Felix had hired, he said, ‘I wanted you to meet Bella. And when I told her about you, she said she wanted to meet you, too.’
‘She’s nice,’ I said.
‘I agree,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘Smart, too.’
‘She has amazing hair. Why didn’t you put that in the book? Her red hair?’
He smiled at me. ‘Well, to tell the truth, I left it out, out of deference to Bella. She doesn’t mind it now, of course, but as a kid she absolutely hated her hair.’
‘But why?’
‘Well, it made her so different. It was so distinctive. The other kids teased her about it. They used to call her Ginger Knob!’
I nodded. I knew how kids could tease.
‘So I couldn’t put that in the book, could I?’ asked Uncle Felix.
I thought about that.
‘Did you leave anything else out?’ I asked.
Uncle Felix smiled and then thought about it. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure that I did really.’
That was another surprise. Not what he’d said, but the way he said it. As if he hadn’t been talking about writing a story, but about giving evidence.
In prison
Bella, Felix and Myrtle looked aghast as the guard marched swiftly to Moonface, grabbed him roughly by the upper arm and then half-dragged, half-led him from the chamber.
Moonface was protesting piteously, ‘Ow! Ouch! Let go! You’re hurting!’ and these plaints could be heard continuing even as the guard pulled the door behind them and Moonface was led away down the hall.
Felix’s throat was dry. He saw Medulla briefly lift his hand to his brow and then regain his composure. The regent meanwhile had watched the whole performance with a benign smile, like some pleased uncle who had just delivered an expensive birthday present.
Then, still smiling, he said to the children, ‘Excuse me for a moment. I must peruse this interesting volume for a time.’
They waited. The atmosphere in the room was now totally different. What had been warm and welcoming was now chill and frightening. How right Bella was, thought Felix, to have been on her guard. How glad I am that I followed her example. How stupid Moonface— But the thought of Bella caught at him and he had a sudden stabbing fear. She had hidden the diary. She had been caught with it. Moonface was merely in deep trouble for pointing that out in a stupid and disrespectful way.
He couldn’t bear to think these thoughts. Felix turned back to Count Cava, as he patiently, carefully, leafed through the diary, examining each page minutely. He won’t find anything, anyway, thought Fel
ix. He knows the answer already and I know he won’t find it in there. He hoped that the regent’s not finding the answer would be enough, but then he was reminded again of the regent’s ruthlessness. He arrests a twerp or two and chops off their heads. Hadn’t Medulla said something like that? Just like that, as if he were chopping carrots or celery to make a stew. And he’d just witnessed the regent’s casual brutality in the way he’d turned on Moonface. No, the regent’s not finding anything might be just as bad for Bella, bad for them all, as if he had found the answer to the riddle in the diary.
Eventually, Count Cava laid the book to one side and then sat quietly, apparently mulling over what he’d seen.
Then he turned and said quietly, pleasantly to Medulla, ‘You had discovered this diary?’
There was a momentary hesitation before Medulla replied smoothly, ‘Yes, my lord. I had.’
‘But you made no mention of it in your notes?’
‘No, my lord. I looked through the book carefully and I quickly ascertained that it had nothing to do with the riddle, that it was merely the thoughts and jottings of—’
‘Medulla’ — there was an edge to the regent’s voice — ‘that was not your call. As experienced as you are, you are not in a position to make such a judgement.’
‘I’m sorry, my lord.’
Again, a long uncomfortable silence. Felix now recognised that the regent used these silences as a kind of mental torture. There was no way of knowing, as the silence intensified and the waiting increased, which way the regent would jump. He felt almost like gasping with relief when the regent finally said, ‘However, in this instance, Medulla, I believe you are right. The diary is of little interest to us. I could find nothing in it remotely relating to the riddle.’
Felix wondered whether, given this, Bella would get her diary back, but it seemed that, for the moment anyway, she wouldn’t.
Felix was half-expecting that, like the hapless Moonface, they might be frogmarched to some hideous dungeon down in the depths of the palace. Instead, once they were dismissed, they were escorted by a guard down yet another succession of stairs and corridors to a relatively comfortable room with a couple of bunks and a washstand. Medulla accompanied them, his face still taut with the strain of those final few moments with Count Cava.
‘What’ll happen to Moonface?’ whispered Myrtle once the guard had departed.
Medulla looked at her sadly. ‘I think it’s best not to dwell on that right now,’ he said gently. ‘We can hope, but for the moment there’s not much else we can do.’
‘What can we do to save him?’ asked Bella. ‘There must be something.’
‘The only thing that I can think of,’ said Medulla bleakly, ‘is that you solve the riddle as quickly as possible.’
There could be no response to that.
They sat on the bunks despondent.
‘What about my diary?’ asked Bella, after some time. ‘Will I get it back?’
Medulla shrugged. ‘Is it that important?’
‘Well, it’s mine,’ said Bella. ‘And, yes, it is important. It was important enough for Felix and me to pinch it back from the Hebersons after they’d stolen it.’ She flashed a meaningful look at Myrtle, who looked away quickly blushing, ‘And it was important enough for us to get chased all over the hill trying to keep it. And I don’t need to remind you where that led us. So, yes,’ she concluded, ‘it is important. Very important to me.’
Medulla listened to this without comment. Then he said, ‘I’ll see what I can do, but don’t hold out any hope. And if I do manage to get it back for you it won’t be because of its importance in your sense, it’ll only be because somehow I believe it may still hold a key to the riddle.’
‘Well it doesn’t!’
‘That remains to be seen. But I would add one thing more …’
‘What’s that?’ asked Bella.
‘Whatever you do, do not let the regent know you’re anxious to get your diary back.’
‘No?’
‘No. Because if you do, he’ll make very sure you never get it back.’
Bella nodded.
‘How long will we be here?’ asked Felix.
Medulla shrugged once more. ‘Again, it’s best not to dwell on that. You heard what the regent said. As long as he thinks you might have the key to the riddle, he’ll keep you here.’
‘But why?’ asked Felix desperately. ‘I mean, it’s crazy. You told us he already knows the answer to the stupid riddle.’
‘I thought you would have understood,’ said Medulla. ‘Of course he knows the answer to the riddle. But as long as he thinks you might find the answer to the riddle, he’ll lock you up here at the palace to keep you away from Princess Pia.’
As the full implications of these words sank through to Myrtle, she blanched and then wailed, ‘But that could be forever!’
Felix looked around the prison room wildly.
What was the bloody riddle? What three creatures are bound by Pia? It’s stupid. Myrtle’s wrong. It’s not could be forever, it’s will be forever!
They sat for some time unable to talk. Their situation was overwhelming and grossly unfair.
Felix found himself going over and over the strange interview with the regent. Won’t you come into my parlour? said the spider to the fly. Count Cava was nothing less than a spider: cunning, calculating and venomous. Or a snake. A viper. All the fudge and coconut ice on the planet couldn’t sweeten him, Felix thought bitterly. Once more he saw Moonface’s white, terrified face and heard his whimpering as he was dragged away. A trial? Moonface had been pretty despicable trying to save his own skin by fingering Bella like that, but was that a hanging offence? But that hadn’t been the problem, it was something else. What had the regent said?
‘Medulla,’ he asked ‘What’s “lays-whatever”?’
Medulla looked confused.
‘You know,’ said Felix, ‘ “lays-whatever.” You know, what the regent said Moonface had done.’
‘Moonface?’
‘Bruce,’ explained Bella. ‘Our friend. The one who—’
‘Oh,’ said Medulla. ‘Lese-majesty?’
‘That’s it.’
Medulla explained: ‘Lese-majesty is the special crime of treating the ruler or king without respect, with insolence or defiance. I’m afraid your friend completely forgot himself. I did try to warn you that the regent is a powerful and proud man. That a mere child should demand things of him, show him no courtesy …’
‘Is it that serious?’ asked Felix. ‘I mean he was only being a bit cheeky.’
Medulla looked at him sadly. ‘Precisely. Being “a bit cheeky”, as you put it, is exactly what lese-majesty means. And is it serious? Of course. Lese-majesty is a capital offence.’
‘A capital offence?’ asked Felix.
‘A capital offence is one you can get executed for,’ explained Bella soberly.
‘Decapitation, usually,’ said Medulla.
‘Decapitation?’ asked Myrtle.
This time Bella was not prepared to explain. ‘Let’s not go there,’ she said hurriedly. Then she turned back to Medulla: ‘But it’s ridiculous that being cheeky or insolent should be such a serious crime. I mean, with all respect, I’ve never come across a ruder, more insolent bunch of people in all my life than in Axillaris. Just about everybody we’ve met has been mean and nasty. Not just to us, but to each other … Present company excluded,’ she added.
Medulla gave her a faint smile, and then more gravely said, ‘I’m afraid this realm has been wallowing in a stew of nastiness and unpleasantness ever since the regent took over, and it’s getting worse and worse. Did you see anybody on the streets, by the way?’
They shook their heads, remembering the almost deserted streets of the city.
‘Hardly any,’ said Felix.
‘People hide in their houses,’ said Medulla. ‘They can’t bear to go out any longer. All they receive is contempt and bad-mouthing, and that’s all they can give as well, and t
hey hate themselves for it, so much so they’d rather cower behind locked doors than go out.’
‘But they’d have to go out sometimes,’ said Felix, ‘for food and stuff, or work …’
‘Of course, but hurriedly, furtively, and in extremely bad grace,’ said Medulla.
‘All because of the regent?’ asked Bella.
‘How can I say that?’ whispered Medulla. ‘But let us say, he sets the tone.’
Again, there was a silence.
Medulla then stood up. ‘You mentioned food, Felix. It reminds me I should fetch you some.’ He looked at them with concern. ‘This chamber is not a dungeon, but I’m afraid it is nonetheless a prison and I am obliged to lock the door. I do trust you won’t do anything foolish?’
‘I don’t really see that there’s anything we can do,’ said Bella with a wan smile, ‘smart or foolish. But if you’re asking us not to try and break out of here, you have our word.’
Medulla nodded, and left the room, locking the door behind him.
Bella waited until his footsteps had disappeared and then she looked worriedly at Felix and Myrtle.
Seeing her expression, Felix asked, ‘Something else?’
‘I don’t know,’ whispered Bella. ‘I guess I’m worried because I don’t know whether we should trust him.’
‘Who? Medulla?’
Bella nodded.
‘Why not? He seems okay. The only one who has been so far.’
‘That’s just it,’ whispered Bella. ‘Remember how the regent — what’s his name — Count Cava? Remember how nice as pie he was with his smiles and his fudge and his barley water? He was just softening us up to find out how much we knew, putting us off our guard.’
‘Poor old Moonface was never on his guard,’ Felix murmured grimly.
‘Why are you guys whispering?’ asked Myrtle.
Bella looked at her with some pity. ‘Oh, Myrtle,’ she whispered. ‘Why do you think?’ Then she pointed to the ceiling and the four corners of the room. ‘What do you think the chances are of this place being bugged or something? I’d say roughly about one hundred per cent, wouldn’t you?’
Felix and the Red Rats Page 10