Snowflakes, Silver and Secrets

by Tracey Corderoy

  Nothing at the moment, though, was quite adding up. But as Ebony Swann always said, the answers were all out there, somewhere.

  ‘Can I go?’ nagged Bryony as she, Mum and Josh were sitting having breakfast next morning. She had tossed and turned all night long thinking about the Coopers and Mr Thimblefold.

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Mum. She took a sip of coffee and looked back at Bryony suspiciously. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d have wanted to see the Brooks. Not after the Market,’ she said. ‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were up to something!’

  ‘I . . .’ Bryony stopped. ‘Okay, to be honest, I just want a tiny look around the Manor.’

  ‘Bryony,’ Mum sighed.

  ‘No, listen!’ said Bryony. ‘About that silver, well – Brook Dale Manor is the scene of the crime so it’s important I have a snoop round.’

  ‘Yeah!’ Josh nodded, taking his fourth slice of toast. ‘That’s what detectives do, Mum.’

  Mum put down her coffee cup, folded her newspaper and looked back up at the twins.

  ‘For one, Josh,’ she said, ‘Bryony is not a detective – although I’ll grant you she’s very inquisitive.’

  ‘In— what?’ said Josh.

  ‘Inquisitive!’ beamed Bryony. ‘Nosy, annoying – all qualities great detectives need. I might actually be a detective one day, I think. Or an actress-detective like Ebony Swann. Hey, I think I’ve just found my dream job!’

  Mum grinned. ‘But seriously, Bryony,’ she said. ‘You remember what happened the last time you went creeping around the Manor?’

  ‘Georgina locked you up in the attic!’ snorted Josh.

  ‘Yeah. But I wasn’t scared,’ said Bryony. ‘And I’m pretty sure if I go today I won’t be locked in any of their rooms – so Mum, please?’

  ‘Hey, Mum,’ said Josh, annoyingly changing the subject. ‘Why has Miss Pigeon sent tons of toilet paper? Is she trying to tell us something?’

  Every Tuesday Miss P sent groceries to Plum Cottage, whether they needed them or not. Sometimes these groceries were nice, normal things. Bread, milk, cheese, maybe fruit – and in nice, normal quantities too. And this usually meant that these were just simple ‘groceries’.

  Other times, though, she sent ‘grocery clues’ as to what she’d ‘seen in their future’. It was common knowledge that Miss Pigeon thought herself to be a fortune-teller.

  Their Tuesday delivery had arrived last night – late because of the Market. And Miss Pigeon had sent only toilet paper. Rolls and rolls of it! It was currently on the dresser, piled high. This had to be Miss Pigeon giving them a weird clue about something she’d foreseen in their future.

  ‘Okay, so what’s she predicting?’ puzzled Josh. ‘A blizzard maybe? And we’ll all get snowed in?’

  ‘And how does that relate to loo roll?’ asked Bryony.

  ‘Well, it means that we won’t run out!’ nodded Josh with a snort.

  This sounded rather random, but Bryony had far more pressing puzzles to solve than why loo roll was taking over the cottage!

  ‘So can I go to the Manor, Mum?’ she asked. ‘Please? It’s SO important.’

  Mum paused to think. Always a good sign. Now Bryony knew she just had to deploy the ‘it makes total sense’ line . . .

  ‘I mean,’ said Bryony, ‘it makes total sense. You need a cheque for all those lovely displays you’ve just finished for the Brooks. But you’re busy. You’re stressed. Work is piling up, right? The pub needs more table decorations today. Lavender wants a door wreath and Christmas is creeping up. Like, it’s only three days away – and—’

  ‘All right, all right! You can go!’ puffed Mum.

  ‘Thanks, Mum!’ beamed Bryony, gulping down her apple juice and quickly gathering her riding things.

  ‘I’ll take Red!’ said Bryony. ‘He needs a trot out so he’ll get exercise and I’ll—’

  ‘. . . get the cheque and not snoop round,’ said Mum.

  Bryony blushed. ‘You know me. Fancy coming too, Josh?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure,’ Josh nodded.

  ‘Great!’ Bryony smiled.

  They put on their warm padded jackets and headed out. ‘Brrr!’ Bryony shivered. There was snow everywhere. ‘But it seems to have stopped,’ she said.

  ‘Yep,’ Josh nodded, attempting a wheelie on his bike, only to skid and tumble off. ‘We’ve probably got enough snow anyway,’ he frowned. ‘It’s starting to wreck my stunts now!’

  When they got to Seaview, the fairy lights were twinkling and Abi had put a Christmas tree up just inside the main gate. It had clear plastic baubles, and in the centre of each was a photo of each pony who lived there.

  Bryony beamed. Red was top centre!

  ‘Cor,’ grinned Josh. ‘It doesn’t get any better than that!’

  Just then, a small group of nervous-looking beginners came riding out of the main stable block and down the wide gravelled path to the gate.

  Abi was with them, riding Jess’s Destiny, while the beginners were on calm, gentle Howie, Megs and Stan, who could be relied on to not get skittish in the snow.

  ‘Hey, Abi!’ called Bryony. ‘I love the Christmas tree! You finally got round to it then?’

  ‘Not me!’ replied Abi. ‘Santa’s elves must have crept in last night!’

  Bryony laughed. ‘Ah, I see! And did they leave any play balls too? I’m after one for Red for Christmas.’

  ‘Over in the office,’ Abi winked. ‘Take your pick.’

  Abi led the beginner riders out of the gate and Bryony and Josh carried on to Red’s stable. They quickly fed him and mucked him out. Then Bryony gave him a swift brush down, keen to get to the Manor as soon as possible.

  As Josh wheeled the dirty straw round to the heap, Bryony tacked up Red. As she did, she told him about her trip to the caravan and the news about Piggy pulling Cinderella’s carriage in the play.

  ‘ ’Course I would have chosen you to do it,’ she said, stroking the little star between his eyes. ‘But you don’t need to be on stage to be my star. You’ll always be that, you know? Anyway, I’m glad for Piggy – and Em too.’

  Red’s ears were forward as he listened, whinnying or blowing in all the right places. Bryony was sure he understood everything she said!

  ‘I need to see Mr Thimblefold later,’ she told him. ‘To check he’s okay and see if he’ll open his shop, because the longer he leaves it the harder it’ll be.’’

  Bryony patted Red’s neck and he nuzzled her arm.

  ‘What?’ she grinned. ‘You’re ready for adventures! Let’s have a look at you then.’

  Bryony stepped back to admire her work.

  ‘Tack on correctly, coat shiny, hooves oiled and mane and tail tangle-free!’

  She nodded. ‘And that, Red, is just as well. For you are at the top of the Seaview Christmas tree – oh, yes!’

  As Red whinnied happily, Josh hurried back in.

  ‘Ready to go then, Bry?’ he asked. ‘I checked round the others but they’re all busy so it’s just you, me and Red.’

  ‘Yep!’ answered Bryony, putting on her hat. ‘Let’s do this!’

  She led Red outside to the mounting block where Arthur Dobbs was sweeping snow off it.

  ‘I thought you were on snow duty yesterday?’ grinned Bryony.

  ‘Yeah, I was!’ moaned Arthur (secretly loving it). ‘And they tried to say they didn’t need me today but I knew they did really. Best sweeper I am by miles, see? So here I am again,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, ALERT!’

  A minuscule fleck of snow had landed on the mounting block. Arthur swooped down his brush and sent the fleck flying.

  ‘Ha!’ he nodded, hitching up his long shorts. ‘That’ll teach it!’

  Smiling back, Bryony quickly mounted Red before Arthur ‘alerted’ again. As she gathered the reins, Josh pushed his bike towards them.

  ‘Um, you’ll never ride that in this snow, Josh,’ sniffed Arthur.

  ‘Wanna bet?’

  Josh wheeled it out
behind Red and jumped on in the lane as he wasn’t allowed to cycle in the stables.

  ‘It’s quite slippery. But nothing that I can’t handle,’ he said.

  Bryony nodded. ‘Right, let’s get to the Manor.’ But at this she could feel Red stiffen.

  ‘It’s okay!’ She quickly reassured him. He was still very twitchy around Georgina. He probably remembered the bad old days when she’d been his owner.

  ‘I’ll be with you, don’t worry, Red,’ Bryony said. ‘And Georgina can’t be mean to you any more.’

  She squeezed Red’s sides and trustingly, he began to head off down the lane.

  ‘So Josh, are you okay to mind him,’ asked Bryony, ‘if I get inside the Manor to snoop around?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Josh nodded as he cycled at her side. ‘No worries,’

  ‘I hope I do get in,’ went on Bryony. ‘Because so many things about this mystery aren’t adding up. Take Georgina, for instance. She was acting really odd down at the Green last night. I mean, she effectively told her dad to move on. Like she wanted to stop the argument.’

  ‘So . . .?’ replied Josh.

  ‘That’s not like her!’ said Bryony. ‘Since when does Georgina want to stop arguments? Something fishy’s definitely going on – and I won’t rest until I find out what!’

  ‘Okay, okay, Miss Swann!’ puffed Josh. ‘Blimey.’

  Bryony quickened Red’s pace. The ride would take them ten minutes. The sun was shining now and the roads, although snowy, weren’t nearly as bad as they should have been. Farmer Jenkins, thought Bryony, must have been out gritting in the night.

  She had never known anyone whose hobby was ‘gritting’ until she’d met Jasper Jenkins. He’d grit in all weathers (even a heatwave), was rumoured to have breakfast with a goat, and he and his wife knitted strawberries for fun.

  His grandson, Jed, had inherited Jasper’s love of crazy animals. Bryony hoped that in the play, when Jed was Prince Charming, he didn’t suddenly whisk his pet goat from the wings to pull Cinderella’s carriage instead of Piggy. For one thing Goaty McGoatface was nibbly. And for two – he butted!

  The Manor looked breathtaking when they arrived and Bryony couldn’t help but admire it. The vast front garden was elegantly draped in snow.

  Red trotted in through the main gate and continued up the sweeping driveway. Emma’s dad and Will were still planting fresh rose bushes. They waved and the twins waved back.

  Bryony brought Red to a halt near the smart front door and Josh squeaked to a stop beside them.

  ‘Well done, Red.’ Bryony patted him. ‘Now, remember what I said, don’t be scared.’

  He blew softly, his breath misting the air. He seemed to be okay. He was standing nice and steady and felt relaxed.

  Bryony dismounted and Josh got off his bike and went across to hold Red for her.

  ‘Be careful in there, Bry,’ he said as Bryony headed up the steps. She turned and nodded back.

  ‘I will.’

  Bryony stopped at the door and banged the huge brass knocker. If Mr Brook answered she’d never get inside, particularly after the Market. But Bryony was relieved to see Mrs Brook open the door. Arabella Brook was by far the nicest member of the family.

  ‘Oh, Bryony,’ said Bella. ‘I was expecting your mother. Are you, um . . . okay?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ answered Bryony. ‘Err, how are you?’

  This did feel weird after last night, but Bella and Bryony had always got on well.

  Bella shrugged. ‘Well, you know . . . it’s been a rather tricky few days. But thanks very much for asking.’

  She looked really elegant in a dark orange silk dress, and her hair was in its usual glossy side bun.

  ‘So your mother,’ continued Bella, ‘is . . .’

  ‘. . . busy with more orders,’ said Bryony quickly. ‘So I came to collect her cheque instead.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Bella. ‘Of course – I see. Do come in then.’

  Bryony stepped into the magnificent hallway where a vast Christmas tree towered to the ceiling and Mum’s bannister decoration looked stunning.

  Bella went off to get the cheque and while she did Bryony’s eyes darted around, not sure what she was actually looking for. Some clues. Any clues! But as far as she could see everything was in its place and as it should be.

  Bella returned holding the cheque, which she promptly handed to Bryony.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Bryony. And with a smile Bella went to open the front door.

  Arghhh! thought Bryony. No! Not yet!

  She hadn’t seen a thing to help the investigation. She had to stay. Get further inside. But how?

  Bryony’s eyes were then drawn to a dresser by the stairway filled with a display of expensive plates. Very different, she thought, to the mountains of loo roll stacked up on Plum Cottage’s dresser!

  ‘Wait – loo!’ gasped Bryony. Yes! That was it. Her ticket for staying longer to snoop. Good old Miss Pigeon, thought Bryony. She’d done it again!

  ‘Sorry, dear?’ said Mrs Brook, her hand on the doorknob. ‘Did you say something just then?’

  Bryony took a deep calming breath. She had to play this cool and look normal . . .

  ‘Can I please use your toilet?’ Bryony asked politely.

  ‘Oh, yes – of course,’ Mrs Brook nodded back. ‘They’re all working again now, thank goodness! I was beginning to worry we’d all be needing chamber pots soon!’

  With that Hari’s joke flashed into Bryony’s mind about Georgina’s ‘bone china chamber pot’. She imagined Georgina flinging it to the floor, looking thoroughly disgusted!

  ‘Pfff!’ An impish – and most unhelpful – snort came flying from Bryony’s nostrils. She could feel another little menace on its way. She couldn’t get the giggles. Not now!

  Screwing up her face, Bryony clenched her fists to force the second snort to stay put!

  ‘Goodness!’ gasped Mrs Brook. ‘Are you all right, dear?’

  ‘I . . .’ squeaked Bryony, very hot and fists still clenched. She must have looked desperate for the loo.

  She nodded back quickly, holding her breath as the second impish snort was still hovering around her nostril hair.

  ‘Um – this way, dear,’ Bella spluttered. ‘Quick!’

  Bryony was whisked across the hall and down one of the passageways. She passed a door on her left, which she knew to be the library since she’d been to the house before.

  The next room along, though, she wasn’t familiar with. On her previous visits the door had been shut. Now, though, it was open and she saw it was a study with dark blue walls and a big oak desk. On the desk she momentarily glimpsed a box. This was definitely something worth investigating! It looked roughly the same size as the one she’d seen the police carry out from Mr Thimblefold’s shop. The one containing the Brooks’ family silver.

  ‘Here we are!’ said Bella at the next door along. ‘A splendidly working loo! Come and find me when you’re done and I’ll see you out.’

  Bryony nodded. ‘Yes. Find you. Thanks! I . . . yes.’

  A concerned-looking Bella walked off, but as soon as she’d gone Bryony hurried through the study door—

  ‘Bother!’

  In her haste, a packet of Polo mints had tumbled from her jacket pocket. It hit the wooden floor and exploded, mints rolling here, there and everywhere.

  ‘Oh, no!’ She had no time for this. Dropping to her knees, Bryony crawled about after them, stuffing them back into her pocket. This sort of rubbish never happened to Ebony Swann!

  When every last Polo had been rounded up, she continued across to the desk.

  The study was immaculate and Bryony knew she must leave everything exactly as she found it. Miss Swann was always careful to leave no clues that she’d been snooping.

  Bryony examined the box, but was annoyed to see it was all sealed up with parcel tape. On top was an address and Bryony deduced it was packed up ready to be posted.

  She read the address, written in black ink –
presumably by the ink pen nearby:

  Cuthbert and Fig

  Pudding Lane,

  LONDON

  EC3R 8AB

  ‘Right.’ Bryony nodded, thinking hard. It did look exactly like the box the police had taken. So could she assume that the silver was inside?

  Ebony Swann said one should never just assume, but gather as much evidence as possible. So Bryony picked up the box to feel its weight.

  It was heavy. ‘Hmmm, silver is heavy,’ she muttered. Especially lots of it . . .

  Next she jiggled it but heard no clatter of jugs, bowls and picture frames. But expensive silver objects, she quickly decided, might well be wrapped individually to stop them bashing about on their journey.

  She carefully replaced the box, her brain whirring away. Why would Mr Brook post his family silver off when he’d only just got it back? And who were these people he was sending it to? This Cuthbert and Fig in Pudding Lane?

  On a corner of the desk was a desk lamp, its light shining down on a notepad. Beside it was a carriage clock and the smart silver ink pen. On the pen’s barrel were the initials ‘AB’, which probably stood for Austin Brook, Georgina’s dad.

  Bryony’s eyes were drawn to the notepad on which Mr Brook had scribbled down a price. Beside this were the letters ‘P’ and ‘R’. And a word written in capital letters: ‘LAPADA’.

  Just then, the clock on the desk whirred and chimed and Bryony became aware of the time. She needed to go and find Mrs Brook – now.

  Bryony crept back out of the study, only to hear voices in the hall. She listened. It was Georgina and her dad. And it sounded like they were heading her way!

  Instinctively she dashed into the loo, shut the door and locked it behind her. She’d be crazy to pass up the chance for some serious earwigging!

  She waited. She heard their footsteps growing louder. Louder and louder, until they stopped.

  ‘Georgina,’ Bryony heard Mr Brook say, ‘have you been in my study this morning?’

  ‘No,’ replied Georgina.

  ‘So why’s there a Polo mint on the floor by the door frame? It isn’t mine.’

  Bryony wrinkled up her nose, inwardly groaning. How could she have missed that sweet? Ebony would never have made such a silly mistake!