“No, no, no!” Olivia fumes. She grabs the clip board and looks at the signatures.
Supposedly, all the keys are signed in. “What’s the point of having a stupid sign in book if people don’t bother signing the keys in and out properly. It just isn’t right,” she tells the empty office.
The lunch bell rings and Olivia can already see kids spilling out of their classrooms.
Olivia has no idea what to do next. She slips out of the office and is just closing the door as Mrs Paulson comes out of the bathroom. Olivia sees her from the corner of her eye and freezes. She takes a deep breath and knocks loudly on the office door.
As Mrs Paulson’s footsteps come closer, Olivia turns towards her. “I’m feeling a little bit better now. I don’t think you need to call my mum.”
Mrs Paulson frowns. “Just in time for lunch, hmm.”
Olivia resents the accusation in her tone. “I won’t be going out playing,” she says. “I think I’ll just find a nice quiet spot to sit until it’s time for class again.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Mrs Paulson steps into the office and closes the door.
Chapter 19
West Tower
Olivia trudges back along the corridor toward the basement storeroom. Her knee aches and her left leg drags with each step.
It isn’t fair.
She used to be one of the fastest runners in the school. She could beat most of the boys at basketball and she could do flips on the balance beam in gymnastics that none of the other girls would even try.
Now she has trouble walking.
The doctors haven’t told her anything but she had not missed her mum’s red eyes and forced smile after the specialist had spoken to her and Dad. The doctor is worried, Mum and Dad are worried and the nurse in the old fashioned uniform had been worried enough to give her the newspaper clipping.
That article showed Olivia just how bad her condition could really be.
She remembered the nurse’s irritated voice, ‘Doctors.’ Her disapproval had been plain. ‘They shouldn’t hide the facts from their patients. Even young ones like you.’
Olivia hopes the nurse was wrong.
What is she going to tell Yip about the key? He is going to be so disappointed. She thinks about their last conversation and frowns in annoyance.
‘It would be in the key cupboard in the office with all the other keys I expect,’ he had said. His condescending tone had annoyed her at the time. It annoys her even more now. She could have been in all sorts of trouble if she’d been caught.
Just proves how much you know, Yip, she thinks.
How much I know about what?
The key wasn’t in the key cupboard like you said it would be, she snaps; her irritation clear.
Well maybe someone borrowed it, he snaps right back.
Well whoever borrowed it didn’t sign it out.
Oh, Yip says. And why would they borrow the key if they weren’t coming here to the storeroom?
Olivia thinks about that for a moment. Maybe, whoever locked you in there wanted to make sure you didn’t get out. If only she can work out who took the key.
I don’t think they were worried about that.
Why not? Olivia asks.
It doesn’t matter, Yip replies quietly. Is there any way you can force the door open?
Olivia is exasperated. I’m a skinny twelve-year-old-girl and besides, I had a flaming gargoyle fall on me three days ago.
It wasn’t on fire. Yips tone is bewildered.
What?
I was there and it wasn’t on fire, Yip repeats.
“Well it still hurt.” Olivia actually shouts that out loud.
A group of kids give her an odd look.
She sits down on the top step leading down to the basement storeroom and tries to think.
Who locked you in there anyway? Olivia asks.
I don’t really know, Yip replies. I was blind at the time.
You’re blind?
I hope not, Yip says.
But you said—
It’s temporary. Well I hope it’s temporary, he adds. I heard Brother Westerman arguing with the people that put me in here.
He saw them and didn’t do anything about it? Olivia is incredulous. He didn’t try to let you out, or call the police or something?
It’s a bit complicated, Yip says.
What’s he got to do with it anyway? she asks.
That’s even more complicated.
“Wait!” she exclaims out loud.
Ah, not going anywhere. Locked in a storeroom remember? Yip’s thought stings her mind like a whip.
She ignores him. There is something about Brother Westerman. He had been acting strange at recess—even strange for him. She can see him clearly in her mind, wandering about, muttering and…
…And jingling a set of keys in his coat pocket.
Could Brother Westerman have the keys? she asks.
There is no answer for a moment. That’s it, Yip shouts. He’s the only one who knows how important we are.
We?
Complicated, Yip dismisses the question. He wouldn’t sign the key out if he was trying keep anyone from getting in here and disposing of us. That has to be it.
OK, but how does that help?
Brother Westerman is ninety-two years old, Yip says. He’s been taking an afternoon nap for years now.
Oh, no. Olivia can see where this is going.
You have to sneak into the West Tower and find the key, Yip says.
Absolutely not!
It’s the only way.
Brother Westerman hates me, she states coldly.
He’s a priest. He’s not allowed to hate people.
Well he does a good impression of hating me. He calls me an abomination.
That’s just because you’re a girl.
What’s he got against girls?
Priest!
What?
The priests here are not allowed to like girls, Yip tries to explain. I’ve never understood it myself, but I think that’s how it works.
That is ridiculous.
I know, Yip admits. I think girls frighten him.
That is even more ridiculous. Olivia sighs. You know if I get caught, I’ll be in big trouble.
Good girl, Yip encourages.
That’s not what they’ll say when they are shoving me in the back of a police truck.
Well you’d better not get caught then. There is a hint of amusement in Yip’s tone that softens the harshness of the words.
Olivia can’t go back past administration and the principal’s office to get to the West Tower stairway. She will have to take the East Wing stairs and pick her way through the boy’s dormitory rooms on the first floor. That whole area is out of bounds during school time for everyone and it’s out of bounds to girls all the time. Olivia has no idea why she has agreed to this crazy plan.
She makes her way to the end of the East Wing and ducks into the stairwell. The climb to the first floor makes her knee ache even more. She peeks into the corridor.
Olivia has never been in this part of the school before. The Townies, as the boarders call them, also aren’t allowed on the dormitory floors. The first two rooms along the corridor are teacher apartments. Both of those doors are closed. The door to the next room is ajar and Olivia peeks inside.
There are two sets of bunk beds and a desk along the wall under a tall narrow window. There are posters pinned to the wall and the lower bunk bed on the right has a teddy bear partially hidden under the pillow.
Olivia moves on past more sets of doors. As she turns the corner into the North Wing of the building she sees two large common rooms with comfortable chairs and a large television mounted on the wall. The shower rooms, kitchen and dining room are also in that wing.
So far, so good. She turns the corner and sees the stairwell that leads up to the West Tower rooms, way down the far end. Olivia hurries forward. She wants to find Brother Westerman’s room and the storeroom key before th
e bell rings for the end of lunch. If she isn’t back by then, someone might come looking for her. They wouldn’t find her in the sick bay and the office ladies would confirm that she hadn’t been picked up and taken home.
Even if they don’t find her sneaking around in the out of bounds parts of the school, she will still be in trouble for skipping class.
Olivia winds her way upstairs past the second floor landing and up into the West Tower.
Chapter 20
Sneak Thief
Stepping into the West Tower is like stepping back in time. It’s like a movie set from Hogwarts. The landing has a flagstone floor that make her school shoes squeak like chittering monkeys squabbling over the last banana in the bunch. How on earth is she supposed to sneak up on anyone with that racket going on?
Olivia crouches and loosens the buckles on her shoes. She slips out of them and tucks them under her arm.
The cold of the stone floor seeps through her socks and chills her feet. Yellow light slants down through the narrow windows in slashes of glittering dust. Heavy dark-wood furniture lines the room. A solid table sits in one corner on four claw-footed legs. One entire wall is covered floor-to-ceiling with a bookcase full of old hard back books. Not one of them has a picture on the spine. Most are dull green, red or blue with faded gold lettering identifying the dusty titles. Some of the titles are in languages Olivia can’t read or even recognise. The centre of the room is taken up by a large oval rug.
Most of the doors in the school are plain, sensible painted wood but the door that leads into what Olivia suspects are the main rooms of this tower is double sized and intricately carved with strange plants and even stranger animals. A full set of medieval armour stands on either side of the door, complete with shields and swords.
On the wall behind a table hangs a faded oil painting of an old white-bearded man in a monk’s robe sitting next to a deer. He is holding a hammer and chisel.
Olivia crosses to the huge wooden doors and tries the handle. It turns easily. She eases the door open, expecting the squeal of rusty hinges but the door swings toward her, smooth and silent.
Olivia hopes to hear loud snoring coming from the inner rooms.
No such luck.
What she does hear is a low murmuring coming from the doorway on her right. The door is cracked slightly open. Olivia looks inside and sees Brother Westerman pacing back and forth across the room.
“Why can’t you be asleep,” Olivia silently demands.
Brother Westerman turns to the door and walks toward her.
Olivia hurries into the room opposite Brother Westerman’s bedroom and comes face to face with the most hideous creature she has ever seen. She only just manages to bite down on the scream trying to escape her throat. One of her shoes slip out from under her arm. She manages to catch it between her leg and the bench before it clatters to the stone floor.
The creature in front of her is sharp-fanged and slit-eyed. It’s part serpentine and part something Olivia just can’t describe. After the initial shock, Olivia steps closer to get a better look. It’s just a head, a carved stone head, a little larger than a pug dog’s.
“You are the ugliest creature I have ever seen,” Olivia whispers.
The room looks like a workshop of some kind. There is another wall of even older books, scrolls of parchment and creepy odd knick-knacks. The opposite wall has a full length work bench with masonry tools and a large block of a fine grained stone.
Olivia peeks at the brother’s room. The door is almost closed but a light is on—he must be still in there. She steps back against the wall to think.
Brother Westerman hasn’t come out of his room but she can’t hear muttering coming from inside.
She creeps back to Brother Westerman’s door and places her eye against the crack. He is kneeling on the hard stone floor, before a small stone altar. His hands are clasped in prayer.
The room is almost bare—a narrow bed is against one wall and a small work desk with a high backed and uncomfortable looking wooden chair against another. The stone altar where Brother Westerman is praying is the only other thing in the room. Even though his back is to her, there is no way she can get inside without alerting him.
Olivia curls her fingers through the gap and eases the door open a few centimetres. Her eyes brighten. Brother Westerman’s long coat is hanging from a peg on the back of the door.
If she can reach inside…
Olivia stretches her good arm in through the gap and feels around for the pocket. She rubs her hand down the coarse material, hoping to find a tell-tale bulge where the keys are hidden.
Brother Westerman’s prayer is building in intensity. It sounds like the prayer is coming to the end.
Olivia’s groping hand is getting more desperate.
Something clinks softly under her hand. She holds her breath hoping he hasn’t heard.
His prayer continues.
With a sigh of relief, Olivia searches for the opening of the pocket.
“Amen,” Brother Westerman says. And lowers his hands.
Olivia shoves her hand deep into the pocket of the coat and yanks the key free. She hears Brother Westerman’s joints creak as he starts to rise. She flees back into the entry room of the tower, shaking as she eases the large doors quietly closed. She hides the key in her pocket and hurries down the stairs as fast as she can go.
Back on the first floor, she sits on the bottom step, breathless and shaking all over. She realises she would never cope living a life of crime—the fear of being caught would send her over the edge faster than Yip’s atrocious singing.
The end-of-lunch bell sounds.
There is no time to get her trembling under control. She has to get back through the boy’s dormitory and down to the ground floor in time for class. She buckles her shoes back on and pushes herself up.
There is a rattling and voices are coming from the kitchen. Olivia darts past the open door without even glancing inside. She expects to hear a challenge but they haven’t seen her. She turns the corner into the North Wing and trudges onward. Her left leg aches and a sharp stabbing pain shoots through her knee with every step.
“You owe me big time, Yip,” she says through gritted teeth. Sweat prickles down her back and her breathing is starting to get a little ragged.
Olivia is almost to the stairwell when she hears heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. She slips in through the open door of the closest room.
There is a pile of dirty clothes on the floor of the room and a crinkled grey looking pair of underpants hanging limply from the bedpost.
“Eew! Gross,”
She hears keys rattle in a lock and sees a teacher’s back disappear into the room. The door clicks shut behind him and Olivia dashes forward again. She clambers down the stairs as fast as her bad leg will carry her.
Although breathless, sweaty, wracked with pain, and jittery with anxiety, Olivia’s heart sings in triumph.
Got it! she beams her mental message of victory to Yip.
Well, what are you waiting for? Come and get me out.
I can’t, Olivia replies. I have to get to class. I’ve already pushed my luck too far today.
But—
I’ll get you out before I go home.
Her tone quietens him.
Olivia arrives at the classroom as the last of the class are going in. She has made it. Only just but she has made it.
The afternoon lessons drag on like time is running at half-speed. Yip remains quiet, his thoughts not invading her head but even without his distractions, she doesn’t have a clue what subjects Ms Hellings is teaching during the afternoon.
Finally, the home-time bell rings and chairs begin scraping backwards. The kids make a flying escape from another day at school.
“Put your seats up on your desks,” Ms Hellings shouts.
Olivia takes her time rising. She wants to give the other kids time to move away from the stairs to the storeroom. She looks at her desktop and finds Hector’
s little plasticine figure. It’s a cat that looks remarkably like Rum Tum.
Hector has already gone, but she smiles and picks it up.
Olivia?
I’m on my way, Yip. Olivia limps slowly from the room.
Chapter 21
Gargoyles and Garden Gnomes
The coast looks clear.
Olivia scrambles down the stairwell. She pulls the key from her pocket and unlocks the storeroom door. It creaks slightly as it swings open. The room is dark but her eyes cut through the gloom like its daylight.
Her breath catches in her throat. The storeroom is crowded with the gargoyles from the roof! As hideous as they are, they have a strange appeal. Olivia edges past a lion-faced statue and looks up at the most beautiful face she had ever seen.
The angel statue had no right to claim the name of a gargoyle but as Olivia looks closer, she sees some small imperfections. Her eyes hold a hard, coldness that has nothing to do with being made from stone. Her elegant features have a slight cruel edge and there is something strange about the angel’s hands. Her fingers end in long talon like fingernails.
Olivia shivers.
“Yip, where are you?” she asks.
Turn your head to the left.
Olivia turns her head. She stands face-to-face with something out of a nightmare. She thought the carved head in Brother Westerman’s workshop was ugly. This thing is the ugliest creature she has ever seen. It has a sinewy neck, bat-like wings, a wide fanged mouth, horns and comical ears. It’s a little larger than a big tabby cat and sits precariously on top of a wooden crate.
“Yip?”
Yes.
“You’re a gargoyle.”
Yip hisses in her mind, Do I look like a drainpipe, you moronic garden gnome?
His angry reply stings her.
“Garden gnome?” Olivia asks incredulously.
Moronic garden gnome, he corrects. Gargoyles are drainpipes—I’m a Grotesque. Even a simpleton knows the difference. He pauses for dramatic effect. So if I’m a gargoyle, you are a garden gnome.
Olivia Stone and the Trouble with Trixies Page 7