‘What will you do if you find the silver?’ his father asked.
‘Try to sell it,’ Aladdin said quickly. ‘So that we can stay in Åhus.’
His father didn’t say anything.
Aladdin’s mouth went dry. ‘Unless the church wants it, of course,’ he said in a thin voice. ‘I mean, they’d already paid for it when it disappeared.’
Still his father didn’t speak.
Aladdin cleared his throat. ‘But I’m sure I’ll get a reward,’ he went on. ‘And it will be in the papers, so more people will hear about the restaurant.’
‘That all sounds marvellous,’ his father said. ‘But …’
The line crackled, and Aladdin pressed the phone closer to his ear.
‘I can’t hear you,’ he said.
His father’s voice sounded so distant, so shaky. ‘I said we can talk about that when I get home. I’ve already had some new ideas down here. We could have a fantastic life on the coast, Aladdin. Think what fun you’d have if Billie and Simona came to visit!’
Aladdin could feel his throat closing up. It sounded as if the decision had already been made. ‘But we have a good life here,’ he said, trying to sound firm.
‘Indeed we do,’ his father agreed. ‘But not as good as it used to be. Listen, I have to go. Grandpa sends his love; he’s feeling much better. Give Mum a hug from me.’ And then he was gone.
Aladdin put down the phone, trying not to cry. He wasn’t very successful; a few stubborn tears escaped, trickling down his cheek and dripping off his chin. Billie had thought her mum was being unfair when she insisted they move twelve miles from Kristianstad to Åhus; Aladdin’s father wanted him to move all the way to Turkey.
Why did everything have to be so complicated, particularly right now? Aladdin glanced at his books; his homework would have to wait until tomorrow. He was too angry and upset to tackle it now.
For a while he wondered whether to go up to the restaurant to talk to his mother, explain that he had no intention of moving. But she wouldn’t have time to listen.
To his surprise, someone knocked on his bedroom door. He opened it to find Billie and Simona standing there, each with a rucksack.
‘I told Mum we were staying over with you tonight,’ Billie said. ‘So you won’t be on your own when you’re waiting to see who picks up the bag of food. If that’s OK with you, I mean …’
Aladdin was so pleased that he gave her a hug. He nodded. Of course it was OK.
‘I’ll just check with Mum,’ he said, and ran up to the restaurant.
It was a very cold night. The snow glistened in the glow of the lights along the path leading to the tower. Aladdin’s mother had no objections; Billie and Simona were welcome to stay over, even though it was the middle of the week. But they had to promise to get up early the next morning, in good time for school.
‘How long are you going to carry on putting out food?’ Mats muttered as Aladdin and his mother were packing a bag in the kitchen.
It was late, and the restaurant was about to close.
‘As long as the refugee boat is in the harbour,’ Aladdin’s mother said.
‘Right,’ Mats said, turning away. ‘How do you know it’s someone from the boat who’s taking the food?’
‘We don’t. But that’s what we think. Aladdin has seen a boy in short trousers running around the area, and we believe he’s from the boat.’
‘Right,’ Mats said again.
Why did he always have to be so grumpy? Aladdin picked up the bag and hurried down to Billie and Simona, who were waiting in his room.
Simona peered at the plastic boxes in the bag. ‘What’s in there?’
‘Tonight it’s meatballs, potatoes and bread.’
‘Is it the same every night?’ Billie asked.
‘No, we try to give them a bit of variety.’
Earlier on they had eaten in front of the TV and played games; now they were just waiting for the restaurant to close so that they could put out the bag.
‘By the way,’ Simona said. ‘I’ve had an idea. My dad is the boss of a big company here in Åhus. He’s always saying that the food there is really terrible. What if they started ordering food from you? That would bring in lots of money!’
Aladdin’s heart leaped with excitement. ‘That would be brilliant,’ he said.
‘It’s not definite,’ Simona said, ‘but I’ll have a word with Dad.’
‘Thank you!’ Aladdin said.
He knew he had to find a way of helping his mum and dad if he wanted to stay in Åhus, otherwise he would be forced to move. Soon. Time was running out.
They heard footsteps on the stairs, followed by the sound of the front door closing and the key turning in the lock. Mum, of course; the last customers had gone home.
She called into Aladdin’s room on her way back up. ‘Everyone has gone, and we’ve finished clearing up,’ she said. ‘So I’m off to bed. Goodnight and sleep well, all of you.’
‘Goodnight,’ Aladdin said. ‘I’ll go and put the food out now.’
His mother went up to her room, and Aladdin ran downstairs with the carrier bag. The cold struck him as he opened the door. Billie and Simona waited just inside.
‘What now?’ Simona said. ‘Are we going to hang around here all night?’
Standing in the hallway was nowhere near as comfortable as sitting in the restaurant, but in order to see who came for the food, they would have to peep out through the little window next to the door. Aladdin was ready; he had no intention of falling asleep this time!
‘I don’t think that’s necessary,’ he said. ‘We can take it in turns to keep watch; I’ll go first.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Billie said. ‘You’ll be asleep in two minutes!’
She and Simona started giggling.
‘No I won’t!’ Aladdin protested.
‘We’ll see,’ Simona said. ‘Come and wake one of us up when you’ve had enough.’
‘Or we’ll come down and wake you up,’ Billie said.
They shot up the stairs before Aladdin had a chance to answer. He was left alone in the hallway. Hesitantly he reached out and switched off the light. It wasn’t a good idea if it could be seen through the window; it might stop someone from picking up the bag of food.
Aladdin leaned against the wall and peered out. He didn’t think he would have to wait too long. Nobody would want to hide out there when it was so cold.
That was just about the only advantage he could come up with when it came to moving to Turkey: it was warmer there. He tried to push away the thought of all his problems; perhaps Simona’s father would be able to help them out.
Fingers crossed!
He couldn’t hear a sound from anywhere in the tower. Mum must have gone to sleep right away, while Billie and Simona were probably whispering to one another, if they were still awake. They weren’t particularly good at being quiet, but sometimes they managed it.
He wished the window was lower down; then at least he could have sat on the floor while he kept watch. He gazed out into the darkness. It was a good job the lights above the entrance to the restaurant were always left on, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to see a thing.
The minutes crawled by. Aladdin shuffled his feet. This wasn’t anywhere near as creepy as staying up half the night in the restaurant. He kept on looking out, but there wasn’t a soul in sight.
But at long last he thought he could see something. A man, casting a long shadow over the snow, was walking slowly towards the tower. Or was he on his way to somewhere else?
Aladdin swallowed hard. No, he was definitely heading for the tower.
So far Aladdin couldn’t see his face, but even from a distance it was obvious that it wasn’t the boy in the short trousers. He pressed himself against the wall, staring hard. If it wasn’t the boy, then who was it?
He got his answer as the man walked up to the steps and bent down to pick up the bag.
It was Mats.
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Mats!’ his mother said.
She was so surprised that she dropped her sandwich and looked up from the newspaper.
They had just sat down for breakfast – Aladdin, Billie, Simona and Aladdin’s mother. They didn’t usually have breakfast this early, but Billie and Simona had to catch the bus to Kristianstad in time for school.
Aladdin hadn’t wanted to wake his mother in the middle of the night to tell her what he had seen, but he had to tell her now.
‘It’s true. I saw him with my own eyes. It’s Mats who’s been taking the food we leave out on the steps.’
His mother looked as if she was about to burst out laughing. ‘So why did you spend half the night in the hallway peering out of the window, sweetheart? Couldn’t you sleep?’
Billie and Simona snorted and took a bite of their sandwiches.
Aladdin’s mother looked at them sharply. ‘Are you two mixed up in this? Of course you are. I suppose that’s why you stayed the night.’
She smiled and shook her head, but then her expression grew serious. ‘Listen to me, all of you,’ she said. ‘I thought we talked about this back in the autumn, when you hid among the trees so that you could find out who was haunting Billie’s house. I don’t want you playing cops and robbers. You could get into serious trouble.’
Aladdin blushed. She was right, they had talked about it. He could still remember how he had felt, hiding among the pine trees and waiting to unmask the ghost.
‘Mats didn’t see me,’ he said. ‘And I was never going to open the door and go outside.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ his mother said. ‘I still don’t like it.’
She put down the paper and went to fetch some more coffee.
‘What shall we do now?’ Aladdin said.
‘Do?’
‘With Mats. Now that we know he’s a thief.’
His mother frowned. ‘We don’t know any such thing,’ she said.
‘Yes you do!’ Simona burst out, unable to keep quiet any longer.
Aladdin’s mother slammed down the coffee pot. ‘No we don’t!’ she snapped. ‘All we know is that Mats took one bag of food from the steps. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. OK, so he knows we put out food, and that it’s not meant for him; it’s very bad to take food from someone who needs it more. But to go from that to the assumption that he’s the one who’s been stealing from the kitchen – no, I won’t have it.’
Silence.
Aladdin stole a glance at Billie and Simona, hoping they wouldn’t start talking about the time Simona had crept round the back of Mats’s house to check if he was at home.
‘And another thing,’ his mother went on. ‘If it was Mats who was stealing the food right from the start, then who’s the boy in the short trousers? Why was he hanging around here if not to steal food?’
‘Maybe he knows Mats,’ Aladdin suggested.
‘Maybe he does. Anyway, I need to speak to Mats, but I have no intention of accusing him of stealing from the restaurant.’
Aladdin blinked. ‘Are you crazy? You can’t speak to Mats! You’re not going to tell him I saw him, are you?’
‘Calm down,’ his mother said. ‘I shall tell him I was in the hallway watching.’
She picked up her coffee cup and went towards the stairs. ‘I need to go and get dressed. Clear the table when you’ve finished, please.’
At that point Aladdin remembered they had something else to talk about.
‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘We’ve got something else to tell you – something good!’
His mother looked expectant; she liked surprises. Aladdin realized that it was a rare event these days.
‘Simona’s father might want to buy food from our restaurant for his company,’ he said.
‘Really?’ His mother sounded quite taken aback.
‘It’s not definite, but I’m going to ask him,’ Simona said.
‘That’s very sweet of you – thank you,’ Aladdin’s mother said. She didn’t look particularly pleased; perhaps she thought nothing would come of it.
Aladdin felt a lump in his throat. If only Simona’s father would help them! Otherwise he didn’t know which way to turn.
At school they were given more time to work on their projects. Aladdin felt as if he had come to a dead end. He had worked much faster than his classmates, who seemed to think it was boring to write about people and places around Åhus. Aladdin didn’t feel that way at all; this was the most enjoyable thing he had ever done in school. But now he felt as if he had more or less finished. He had read everything he could find, and he had spoken to the priest and to Ella. All that remained was to find the thief. And the silver.
The only person Aladdin hadn’t spoken to yet was Mats. Who looked so much like Orvar. Who had two children in his cellar. And who evidently needed extra food. Aladdin had butterflies in his tummy. If only Mats wasn’t so bad-tempered all the time!
He was almost sure that the boy in the short trousers was the boy he had seen in Mats’s cellar. But not completely sure. There was a slim chance that the boy he had seen was in fact the Silver Boy. The fact that he didn’t seem to have left any footprints in the snow had bothered Aladdin, but then he’d found an explanation for that the last time they were at Mats’s house. It had been dark, and snowing heavily.
There are no ghosts, Aladdin thought for the hundredth time. They definitely don’t exist.
He read through his notes once more, then he made a decision.
He would call Billie when he got home. They had to talk to Mats, preferably today. Aladdin had no intention of giving up before he found out who the children in the cellar were. He also wanted to know why Mats looked so much like Orvar.
Perhaps Mats held the final piece of the puzzle that would enable them to find the missing silver.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was late afternoon by the time Billie arrived.
‘Mum wasn’t very happy when I said I was coming round here again,’ she said. ‘She thought I ought to stay in and do my homework, but I told her this was important.’
Aladdin was very grateful. He would have hated having to speak to Mats on his own. They would have to leave Simona out of things this time; she couldn’t come down to Åhus at such short notice.
‘By the way, Simona said to tell you she’s had a chat with her dad, and he seemed to like the idea of your restaurant supplying food to his company. She’ll give you a call as soon as she knows more.’
A ray of light. However, Aladdin couldn’t allow himself to get too excited; nothing was decided yet. But he was keeping his fingers crossed!
They sat down on the stairs leading up to the restaurant and waited for Mats. According to the rota, he was supposed to finish at seven. Aladdin thought about the children in the cellar, and wondered what they did all day while Mats was at work. If they were living in his house, of course – but that was how it looked.
It wasn’t the most comfortable place to sit and wait, but it was too cold to go outside. Customers passed them from time to time; they smiled at Billie and Aladdin, then hurried on. Mats should be here at any minute.
‘Has your dad called again?’ Billie asked.
‘No. Well, he might have rung Mum, but I haven’t spoken to him.’
They waited and waited. Billie shuffled impatiently. She wasn’t allowed to stay out too late on school nights.
‘He seems to be working overtime,’ Aladdin said, glancing at his watch. It was almost seven fifteen.
‘Shall we go up and get him?’ Billie suggested. ‘He might just be chatting to someone.’
Aladdin shook his head. It was better to stay where they were.
At last he came. Aladdin recognized the sound of Mats’s footsteps immediately, and leaped to his feet. Game on!
A second later Mats appeared, tall and grim-faced. He looked as if talking to Billie and Aladdin was the last thing he wanted to do.
‘Hi,’ Aladdin said.
‘Hi,’ Mats gr
unted, pushing past them.
‘Hang on! We want to talk to you!’
Mats stopped and turned round. ‘What about?’
Aladdin couldn’t get a single word out. Then he heard Billie say: ‘We want to ask you about a relative of yours. Or someone we think is a relative of yours.’
‘Someone who looks a lot like you,’ Aladdin joined in.
Mats raised his eyebrows. ‘And which relative might that be?’ he said. He still sounded furious.
‘Orvar,’ Aladdin said. ‘We’d like to talk to you about Orvar.’
There was a long silence. Two new customers came in and went up to the restaurant, edging their way past the little group on the stairs. Aladdin realized they would have to go somewhere else to talk; they couldn’t stay here, blocking the way.
‘Orvar?’ Mats said. ‘Which Orvar?’
Aladdin and Billie didn’t say anything.
‘The only Orvar I know of is my great-grandfather,’ Mats said slowly. ‘Is that who you mean?’
So it was true! Billie and Aladdin nodded.
‘OK, so what do you want to know? Spit it out – I’m in a hurry. I have to get home.’ Mats folded his arms.
‘Perhaps we could go and sit down in the living room,’ Aladdin suggested.
‘No chance,’ Mats snapped. ‘We’re fine here.’
Aladdin suppressed a sigh. ‘We were just wondering whether you knew anything about the missing silver,’ he said.
Mats’s eyes widened slightly; Aladdin had obviously surprised him. ‘Why would I?’ he said angrily.
‘Because you’re related to Orvar,’ Billie ventured.
‘Orvar has been dead for a long time,’ Mats said. ‘I never even met him, for heaven’s sake! How would I know anything about the silver?’
He paused and ran a hand wearily over his head; they could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.
‘It all happened so many years ago,’ he said eventually. ‘Can’t you just let it go? Leave the past where it is, dead and buried? It won’t change anything if you find the silver, will it?’
The Silver Boy Page 9