Looking closely at Aladdin, he gave a start. ‘You’re as white as a sheet!’ he said anxiously. ‘Were you really scared?’
Aladdin shuffled uncomfortably. ‘I think it was more of a shock,’ he mumbled.
His father folded his arms. ‘What does he look like? I’m not happy with him creeping around in here and frightening people.’
Aladdin thought for a moment. ‘He looks … serious,’ he said. ‘He never smiles or laughs. He almost seems angry. And he wears weird clothes.’
‘You mean the wrong clothes for the time of year? That it’s too cold for short trousers and just a jumper?’
Aladdin tried to remember exactly what the boy had looked like. Today he had been wearing a jacket, but there was something about him …
‘I don’t know about wrong,’ he said. ‘It’s more that his clothes look so old. I don’t know anyone who dresses like that.’
His father nodded slowly. He seemed to be thinking something over. ‘Listen to me, Aladdin,’ he said. ‘Next time you see this boy, I want you to leave him alone.’
Aladdin was surprised. After all, he wasn’t the one who had made contact with the boy; quite the reverse. It was the boy who kept seeking out Aladdin.
‘I’m afraid that he might be having a hard time,’ his father went on. ‘He could be in real trouble. Perhaps he doesn’t have proper clothes, or enough to eat. People who are in difficulties or afraid sometimes do silly things, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. That’s why I’m asking you to keep out of his way. It’s better if your mum and I try to help him.’
How? Aladdin thought. And with what? The boy didn’t say a word; he just came and went as he pleased. Besides which, Aladdin couldn’t help feeling a bit annoyed at this talk of helping the boy; not long ago his father had said that they were so short of money they might have to go back to Turkey. In which case, how come they could afford to help the boy in the short trousers?
His father looked around. ‘Now what was it I came down here for?’ he laughed, scratching his forehead as he always did when he was trying to think. ‘That’s it – we need more serviettes. We’ve got new customers coming in as soon as someone gets up to leave.’
He found the serviettes in two seconds. Aladdin didn’t understand how his father could find anything in the untidy cellar.
‘I’m glad you met up with Billie and Simona today,’ his father said. ‘It’s nice for you to have friends round when Mum and I are working such long hours.’
Aladdin’s parents often said they felt guilty because he had to spend so much time on his own. His mother had once said she was sorry he didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Aladdin thought it would have been nice to have a sibling, because then he would have had company all the time.
But then again, he wasn’t really alone. Billie was also an only child; she could be Aladdin’s sister when he needed one. Like tonight, for example.
They went back upstairs with the light bulb and the serviettes. Aladdin’s legs still shook when he recalled how frightened he had been in the darkness. When he was back in his room, he remembered what his father had said about keeping out of the boy’s way. But that wasn’t exactly easy when he kept turning up.
Aladdin thought about the missing food. What if the thief really was Mats? Mum and Dad would be very disappointed in him – and angry too. If it was the boy in the short trousers, they would probably be less angry.
He sat down at his desk and started fiddling with one of his model planes. Perhaps Billie could come over and play a game. They could get something to eat from the restaurant and have supper in front of the TV. He put down the plane and picked up his phone, but Billie didn’t answer. Typical. He’d have to call another friend instead.
For the first time in ages, Aladdin didn’t want to be alone. All he could think about was the fact that they were running out of money, and that his father wanted to move back to Turkey. He just couldn’t understand it, not even if his father had said it on the spur of the moment. He would just have to come up with a way of getting hold of more money. Otherwise they might have to leave Åhus.
Chapter Ten
The snow was beginning to melt and turn to slush. As he got ready for school on Monday, Aladdin dug out his yellow Wellingtons; he couldn’t wear his ordinary winter boots, because they would be soaked through in no time.
He couldn’t remember a weekend when so much had happened in such a short time. He almost felt as if he had dreamed the whole thing. It felt good to be going to school; perhaps everything would get back to normal!
When everyone had arrived, Aladdin’s class teacher told them they would be working on a new topic: they would be finding out about the place where they lived.
‘You don’t know enough about Åhus,’ Åsa said. ‘And that’s not right. It’s important to know about your home town.’
Each pupil had to choose a place or a person they wanted to learn more about, she explained. Then they had to write a short piece about this place or person.
‘I’d also like you to prepare a little presentation for the rest of the class.’
Aladdin sighed. He couldn’t think of anyone or anywhere that he wanted to write about.
‘Does the person have to be alive, or can we choose someone who’s dead?’ one of his classmates asked.
‘It’s absolutely fine if you want to write about someone who’s dead,’ Åsa said.
That didn’t help Aladdin in the slightest. He would talk to his parents when he got home; perhaps they would have some ideas.
Then he remembered the newspaper article he had seen. What was it about again? Some old silver that had disappeared. Perhaps he could write about that.
Åsa came over. ‘You look as if you’re deep in thought,’ she said.
Aladdin hesitated. Would it sound childish if he said he wanted to find out about the silver? After all, he hadn’t even read the whole article. ‘Well …’ he said slowly. ‘I’m a bit curious about that silversmith. The one whose silver went missing.’
To his surprise, Åsa’s face lit up. ‘What a wonderful idea, especially since you live in the old water tower!’
Aladdin hadn’t a clue what she was talking about.
Åsa frowned. ‘You do mean the silversmith in the article that was in the newspaper the other day?’
‘Yes,’ Aladdin said, sounding more sure of himself. ‘But I didn’t have time to read the whole piece …’
Åsa waved her hand. ‘No problem, we can soon find it. This is going to be such fun. The silversmith’s workshop used to be where the water tower is now.’
‘Really?’ Aladdin was completely taken aback.
‘Really! But that was a very long time ago. The silversmith was very talented; people from all over Skåne wanted to buy the things he made.’
Aladdin hadn’t known that either. ‘What happened to him?’ he asked.
‘That’s up to you to find out,’ Åsa said.
‘But you must be able to tell me something,’ Aladdin persisted.
Åsa crouched down beside him. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you one thing, but you have to find out the rest for yourself. Deal?’
Aladdin nodded.
‘Good. This is what happened. As I said, the silversmith was very talented, and he was very hardworking. One night when he was working late, there was a terrible thunderstorm. A bolt of lightning struck one of the pine trees in his garden, and it came down on his workshop. He survived, but he had to leave, because the rain was hammering down. The following morning, when the storm had passed, he went back to his workshop, hoping to retrieve all the jewellery and bowls he had stored away. But guess what had happened …’
‘They were gone?’ Aladdin said.
‘Exactly. Someone had been there during the night and stolen the lot. And the silversmith couldn’t afford to buy more silver. He swore that he would find the thief, but he never did.’
‘So no one knows who stole the silver?’ Aladdin said.
‘No. T
he police had their suspicions, but as the stolen goods were never found, there was nothing they could do.’
Åsa got to her feet. ‘And now it’s up to you to track down the rest of the story.’ She winked at him and went off to help someone else.
Aladdin felt quite excited. He made a list of things he needed to find out. He would start by reading the newspaper article. An idea slowly began to take shape. Silver wasn’t gold, but surely it must be worth quite a lot of money. Perhaps this school project would turn out to be very useful.
Chapter Eleven
Later that day, Aladdin met Billie down by the harbour. They wanted to see if the river was still frozen, but it wasn’t. The mild weather had ruined the ice.
‘That’s a shame,’ Billie said. ‘I really wanted to go skating.’
It was dark outside, even though it was still the afternoon.
‘Maybe it will freeze again at the weekend,’ Aladdin said optimistically.
They sat down on one of the benches by the water and Aladdin told Billie about his new school project. He had called her as soon as he got home.
‘I think it’s cool that there used to be a silversmith’s workshop where your tower is now,’ she said. ‘I wonder what happened to all that stolen silver.’
That was exactly what Aladdin wanted to know.
His hat was making his head itch, so he took it off. The refugee boat was moored just a short distance away. He wondered what it was like for those living on board. He was used to sleeping on the water; every summer he and his parents moved onto their houseboat in the harbour. Although next summer things would be different, of course. The boat had been sold.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Billie said.
Aladdin pulled his hat back on. Should he tell Billie how worried he was? Tell her he’d overheard his parents arguing, and that he was scared he’d have to leave Åhus? He took a deep breath, and it all just came out.
‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to Kringlan.’
Kringlan was a café on the square. The baker who owned it delivered bread to the Turk in the Tower, so sometimes Aladdin got free drinks and cakes there.
Billie ordered a cinnamon whirl and Aladdin some chocolate cake. When Aladdin told her what had happened, Billie started to cry.
‘That’s terrible,’ she whispered.
Then Aladdin started to cry as well. A couple of elderly ladies at the next table were staring at them, so Aladdin and Billie quickly dried their eyes.
‘Nothing’s definite,’ Aladdin said, prodding his cake. ‘But I hate the fact that Dad has even mentioned going back to Turkey. I didn’t know things were that bad.’
‘But they haven’t spoken to you? Asked you what you want to do?’
He shook his head.
‘I don’t get it,’ Billie went on. ‘I mean, are you even Turkish?’
Aladdin blinked. ‘What? Yes, of course we are. Why wouldn’t we be?’
Billie looked down at the table. ‘Well, you’ve lived in Åhus for years and years. So doesn’t that mean you’re kind of Swedish?’
‘I don’t really think about whether I’m more Turkish or Swedish. It’s a question of where I want to live, where I feel at home. And that’s here, in spite of the fact that we speak Turkish and have Turkish relatives.’
‘But would you be allowed to go back? I thought you said your dad had problems with the government or something.’
‘It’s different now. That’s why we can go there on holiday and so on.’
They sat in silence for a while.
‘Has any more food gone missing?’ Billie said eventually.
It had. Aladdin had noticed that his parents were starting to get really angry.
‘In that case we’ll have to do what Simona suggested,’ Billie said. ‘See if we can keep watch all night at the weekend.’
‘Mmm,’ Aladdin said, taking a big bite of his cake.
Billie started giggling, even though she was still upset. ‘As long as things don’t go wrong like they did the other day when we were trying to spy on Mats,’ she said.
‘That wasn’t much fun,’ Aladdin said.
‘Well, maybe a bit.’ Billie giggled again. Then she became serious. ‘It’s not fair that food keeps disappearing,’ she said. ‘Not if you’re so short of money that you might have to go back to Turkey. We have to do something. Soon.’
‘I know. And I’ve got an idea.’
Billie’s eyes widened. ‘Tell me!’
Aladdin hesitated. ‘I’ve been thinking about the silver I mentioned.’
Billie looked surprised. ‘The silver that was stolen from the workshop?’
‘Yes.’
‘But hasn’t it been missing for a really long time?’ she said quietly.
‘Well, yes,’ Aladdin said.
He’d looked on the internet for information about the silversmith, but unfortunately he hadn’t found very much. Not even the newspaper article. The silver had been stolen a hundred years ago. On the night the storm brought down the pine tree, the silversmith had had an unusually large amount of the precious metal in his workshop, because he’d received an order for several new items for the church in Åhus. Aladdin didn’t know what all these items were, but among other things the silversmith was going to make a new baptismal font. Apparently it was a kind of bowl that the priest used when he was baptising babies.
Aladdin told Billie what he had found out.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘So you could almost say that the thief stole from the church.’
‘Absolutely. The priest and the other people who worked for the church helped to search for the silver, but it was never found. The church even offered a reward for its return, but no one came forward. Apparently they had already paid the silversmith, so eventually they demanded their money back. But he had no money to give them.’
Billie took a bite of her cinnamon whirl. ‘Maybe he stole the silver himself,’ she said. ‘Then claimed that someone else had done it.’
‘That’s what the police thought at first, but they couldn’t prove it. And the silversmith stayed in Åhus, poor and alone. I don’t think he would have done that if he was the thief; surely he would have moved away with all the silver. He would have bought a big house and eaten ice cream all day. Or something.’
‘Weren’t there any other suspects?’ Billie wondered.
‘Yes, but I can’t find out his name. Or her name.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ Billie said firmly. ‘He or she won’t be around any more in any case.’
She was right, but Aladdin still wanted to know who the police believed had stolen the silver. Even if the thief was dead, he might still have relatives who were alive. What if there was a family here in Åhus who had a pile of stolen silver in their house?
‘We ought to go and speak to someone in the church,’ Billie said. ‘They might know more about the smith and his silver.’
Aladdin smiled. ‘We?’
‘I want to come with you!’
‘And are you going to help me write up my assignment for school as well?’ Aladdin teased her.
‘No chance,’ Billie said. ‘I just want to do the fun bits. Finding out information, that kind of stuff.’ She laughed. ‘Don’t you want me to come?’
Aladdin grinned. Billie had quickly become one of his very best friends. He was happy to let her help him find out more about the missing silver. He really wished she would change her mind and transfer to his school; they could have had so much fun if they were in the same class.
‘Of course I do,’ he said.
Billie thought for a moment. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Let’s do it. Let’s try and find the silver, for real. I mean, it has to be somewhere. I’ll help you; it must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you could sell it and stay in Åhus!’
For some strange reason Aladdin suddenly had a lump in his throat. ‘We might not be able to keep the silver even if we do find it,’ he said hoarsely.
‘
Whatever,’ Billie said. ‘We won’t know that until we find it.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I have to be home in an hour; we’ve just got time to call in at the church before then. If we want to.’
‘Let’s go!’ Aladdin said, leaping to his feet so quickly that his chair went crashing to the ground.
He had to do something to put an end to his mum and dad’s problems. Finding the silver would be a good start.
It wasn’t far to the church. They chatted and laughed as they crossed the square. Neither of them noticed the boy in the green trousers hiding round the corner of a building. He watched them closely, and nodded to himself as he realized they were heading for the church. When they had gone inside, he set off across the square. No one noticed him. And no one saw him sit down on the church steps, waiting.
Chapter Twelve
It was warm inside the church. Aladdin and Billie pulled off their woolly hats and gloves and unbuttoned their jackets. There was no sign of anyone else, not even the priest.
‘What do we do now?’ Billie asked.
‘Let’s take a walk around,’ Aladdin suggested. ‘There must be somebody here.’
They went round the pews and up to the altar. There was a piano at the front of the church; Billie sat down on the stool.
‘You can play, can’t you?’ she said to Aladdin.
‘Yes, but I’m not going to play now.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not our piano. What if someone comes?’
Billie took a different view. ‘If you play, maybe someone will come along and tell us where the priest is.’ She got up from the stool.
Aladdin looked around. There wasn’t a single person to be seen. Nor any ghosts … He sat down, still not convinced that this was a good idea.
‘What shall I play?’
‘Anything you like. Something nice.’
Something nice. Aladdin started to play a piece that his father had written; he had played it to Aladdin’s mother at their wedding. As soon as he touched the keys, the notes echoed loudly throughout the empty church.
‘Help!’ he said, and stopped playing.
The Silver Boy Page 4