by Lena Jones
Mum turns to meet my gaze. ‘How’s your dad?’ she asks. Her expression is full of serious concern.
‘He’s muddling along. But he’ll do a lot better now you’re back,’ I tell her.
A team of Guild members go past, escorting Elizabeth MacDonald and Tabitha Fitzwilliam, and behind them comes Professor D’Oliveira.
‘Good work, Agatha,’ she says, patting me on the back. Then she sees Mum and stops dead on the spot. ‘But … You …’
I’ve never seen the professor lost for words before.
‘Hello, Dorothy,’ says Mum.
The professor stares at her, the same way I did.
‘Sorry to shock you like this,’ says Mum. ‘I’ve been held captive by the Alumni.’
‘I thought you were dead for all these years …’ says the professor. ‘I never stopped blaming myself …’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’
‘If I’d kept closer tabs on your investigation …’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Mum says again.
The professor nods, then snaps back into her usual brisk self and says, ‘We can have a full debrief at some point. In the meantime, where’s poor Sheila?’
Mum points to a chair close by, where Sheila is sitting quietly, wrapped in one of the foil blankets, and Professor D’Oliveira strides over to talk to her. Mr Cohen appears from somewhere, also wrapped in a foil sheet, and when Sheila sees him she gives a start.
‘Sam? What are you doing here?’
‘Hello, Sheila. It’s so good to see you,’ he says quietly. ‘Lots of people have been worried sick about you, including me.’
He sits down next to her and takes her hand, and I’m relieved that he seems to be coping better than I’d expected.
I spot Sofia, busy in the background, directing Guild people and herding Alumni members. She catches my eye and gives me a thumbs-up, and I smile at her.
My mind, however, is still racing – there’s so much to process. Over and over again, I squeeze Mum’s hand and she presses mine in return. She’s really here. But that doesn’t come close to making up for all the years she was stolen from me. And from Dad—
‘Mum, we have to get home to Dad,’ I say, suddenly desperate for him to know what’s happened.
She just nods. Her face is grim and anxious.
‘It’ll be OK,’ I tell her, although I really have no idea if that’s true.
I don’t want to let go of Mum, so I hold her hand all the way home in the taxi. Liam and Brianna are coming with us. I know – we could have had a private family reunion, but Mum was concerned for Dad. She knew he would find it difficult if she just appeared home unannounced, so we’ve agreed that my friends will go in ahead of us and prepare him for the shock. Liam and Brianna run on ahead and we give them ten minutes before we follow. I keep glancing at my watch, but time has never moved so slowly.
At last, I say, ‘We can go now,’ and we start to head along the path towards Groundskeeper’s Cottage. But Mum’s pace is slowing as we approach the front door. I glance at her in concern, and then I realise what the matter is: she’s afraid.
‘It’s OK,’ I say. ‘He’s going to be thrilled.’ The truth is, I have no idea what Dad will be feeling right now.
The door opens before we reach it, and Dad appears in the doorway, shadows under his eyes and his hair a mess, as if he’s been running his hands through it.
He stands looking at Mum. At last, he says, ‘It’s really you.’ I can’t tell anything from his tone.
‘It’s really me, Rufus,’ she says quietly.
He starts to cry and I let go of Mum’s hand and run to put my arms round him. He can barely stand, and he’s too heavy and tall for me to support on my own, but my friends come to help me and we support him to a chair in the hallway, where he buries his face in his hands and sobs, his whole body wracked by emotion. I keep my arms round him, but I can’t tell if he’s even aware that I’m there.
‘Dad,’ I say, ‘Dad, it’s OK,’ but he just shakes his head.
‘Rufus,’ says Mum quietly. She’s come inside the house, and is standing watching him. ‘I know it’s a lot to take in …’ I step away from Dad, to give them space. My friends are standing further down the hall, and I join them. Brianna puts an arm round my shoulders.
‘Seven years, Clara,’ Dad says, looking up at Mum, ‘you let us believe you were dead.’
She takes his hand and says, ‘I was a prisoner, Rufus. They kept me locked up.’ Her voice sounds pleading.
His face turns fierce and he says, ‘Did they hurt you?’
She shakes her head. ‘They ignored me mostly. Just kept me fed and watered.’
I watch as my dad – my big, strong dad – says, ‘I don’t know what to feel. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.’ He sounds lost and helpless, like a child.
‘I know,’ says Mum softly. ‘It’s OK.’ She puts her arms round him and holds him tight, while he sobs. It’s horrible to see him like that. I want to comfort him, but I know only Mum can do that right now. After a few minutes, she turns to me and nods for me to join them. I walk over and she puts one arm round me and keeps the other round Dad. He’s quieter now and calmer, and he looks up at me with a watery smile.
That’s when I know it’s going to be all right.
It’s been nearly a week since the Great Gallery Showdown, as Brianna’s named it. My friends have stayed away, giving us time to be a family again, but they’re here now, in my sitting room. I can’t stop gazing around, feeling so much love for these four people.
‘Tell us about Arthur,’ says Brianna to Mum. ‘He was a pain in the neck when we went to his house. What was he like when you met him?’
‘I used to see him regularly. I quite looked forward to his visits. It was his mother who was the difficult one. She needed to throw her weight around.’ She looks at me. ‘He obviously thinks highly of you, Agatha.’
‘But he was still a traitor,’ I say.
‘Maybe he didn’t want to be,’ says Mum. ‘From what I saw, his mother had a very forceful personality.’
‘It was still his choice. I’m sure he could have refused to go along with her.’
‘He did, in the end, by helping Sheila and me escape.’ She pauses. ‘It’s a shame he’ll still be going to prison.’
‘I should hope so too,’ says Liam, who’s sitting on the arm of the sofa, next to me. ‘He treated Agatha appallingly.’
‘And don’t forget he tied up Brianna, after Tabitha knocked her out,’ I say.
‘Although those knots were pretty loose,’ admits Liam. ‘I got them untied in seconds.’
‘Will his sentence be lighter, because he freed you and Sheila?’ Brianna asks Mum.
‘It should be. I’m going to put in a good word for him. And he’s only seventeen, so it will be a juvenile detention centre rather than an adult prison.’
I’m not ready to forgive Arthur, so I don’t say anything.
‘How about you and the Guild, Aggie? Have you been reinstated?’ Brianna asks me.
I pull a face at her to be quiet. Dad still hasn’t forgiven me for joining the organisation, or for keeping it secret from him.
He speaks up: ‘Agatha is not allowed to partake in any clubs, societies or secret organisations without first discussing it with her mum and me,’ he says firmly. ‘She has put herself and you, her friends, at risk and is clearly not old enough to make sensible choices.’
‘So how many of the paintings turned out to be fakes?’ cuts in Liam. I smile at him, grateful to him for changing the subject.
‘They’re still being examined,’ says Mum. ‘It’s going to be tricky – there could be many more that we don’t even know about yet. In the Van Gogh exhibition, it turned out to be only Sunflowers and The Yellow House. Thanks to the three turning up at the Fitzwilliams’ house, that last drop of fakes was seized, saving a number of very valuable pieces.’
‘I feel sorry for Lord Rathbone and Sarah,’ I say.
<
br /> ‘I know,’ says Mum. ‘I mean, as public figures go, he’s a bit pompous, but he wouldn’t harm a fly.’
‘I shouldn’t have just accepted everything Arthur told me. If I’d known the assistant at Sir John Soane’s Museum was his mother, I would never have believed what she told me about The Marriage – that Lord Rathbone had sent it for cleaning.’
‘Ah, hindsight is a wonderful thing,’ says Mum wryly. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over it, Aggie – Arthur was a skilled agent.’
‘But I just accepted everything he said.’
‘Of course you did,’ says Liam. ‘He was your partner.’ I smile gratefully at my friend.
‘At least Lord Rathbone wasn’t charged with anything in the end,’ says Brianna.
‘Do you think his reputation’s been damaged, though?’ I ask.
Mum shakes her head. ‘No, slurs slide off that man. He’ll bounce right back.’
There’s a knock at the door and we look round at each other in surprise – everyone’s here already. I go to open it. There’s an elderly woman on the doorstep, dressed in a pink coat with a matching hat.
‘Professor D’Oliveira!’ I say. ‘Would you like to come in?’
‘That would be very nice, Agatha. Thank you.’
I take her coat and show her through to the living room where the chatter subsides as soon as I open the door and the visitor makes her appearance.
Then Mum says, ‘Dorothy – it’s so lovely to see you!’ She leaps up and gives the professor a kiss and her ex-boss pats her on the shoulder.
Dad gives up his seat, and the professor accepts, thanking him as she sits down, with a gracious nod like a queen. He goes to perch on the arm of Mum’s chair.
‘I still can’t get over how little you’ve changed, Clara,’ the professor says, smiling at Mum. ‘Tell me – how did you keep so well, for all those years? Sheila Smith looked so drawn, after just a few days in captivity.’
Mum looks very sad for a moment. ‘The hardest part was the emotional and mental side,’ she says. ‘Physically, there was no real hardship. I exercised in my little cell every day, and set myself puzzles to solve to keep my brain active. What else can I say, Dorothy? I’m an agent. You trained me well. But, as I say, the hardest part was the emotional side. Nothing could have been worse than separating me from my loved ones for seven years.’ She looks up at Dad and then over to me. ‘The only thing that kept me going was promising myself I would get back to them – that one day I’d make it home.’
The professor just nods sadly. Then, after a pause, she turns to me. ‘Arthur has proven to be a bit of a double, or triple, agent, hasn’t he? But at least now we know who took your mother’s file, Agatha.’
‘Really?’
The professor nods. ‘It was Arthur. I’m guessing that as soon as the Alumni found out you were joining the Guild, they knew you’d want to continue your mother’s investigation into them.’
‘That makes sense,’ I say. ‘It meant I had to find out about Mum’s investigation from her hidden notes instead. The Alumni wanted to stop me making the link between the forgeries and Sheila’s disappearance much sooner.’
‘Ah, so they had more than one motive for getting their hands on the file,’ says the professor. She clears her throat. ‘Speaking of motives, I have one of my own for this visit. I’m sure it’s all right to speak in front of Agatha’s friends … I just wanted to ask you if you would be coming back, Clara.’
Mum looks startled. ‘To the Gatekeepers?’
‘That’s right.’
I look quickly at Dad. He’s stopped smiling.
But Mum doesn’t even pause before replying, ‘Not in a million years. I’ve lost far too much time as it is. I missed seeing my little girl grow up. Nothing can give me those years back, but I’m not missing anything else.’ She smiles at me.
‘Well, if you do change your mind, we’d be delighted to have you back—’
‘Clara’s just got home,’ Dad breaks in, ‘after seven years stuck in a cell on a remote island! Can’t we just enjoy being a family again?’
Mum leans in to his chest and he puts an arm round her.
The professor nods. ‘You’re quite right, both of you. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.’
‘I was thinking that I might like to be a librarian,’ says Mum.
‘I see,’ says the professor. ‘It does seem a shame, though, to waste your skills.’
‘I think Mum would make a great librarian,’ I say.
‘Thank you, darling,’ she says, smiling at me.
The professor nods. ‘I have no doubt that Clara Oddlow will shine at whatever she chooses to do.’
‘Thank you, Dorothy,’ says Mum, and she smiles at the professor warmly.
‘Well, I’m starving,’ I announce. ‘Shall I make us all dinner?’
‘I’d better let you all get on,’ says the professor, easing herself to the edge of her chair, ready to get up.
‘You’re not going anywhere, Dorothy,’ says Mum. ‘I’m going to make us all a nice risotto.’ She gets up and heads for the kitchen.
‘I’ll help,’ says Dad, following her out of the room.
‘They look like they’re going to be all right,’ says Brianna.
The professor nods. ‘Give it time. There are a lot of emotions to be worked through, but I never saw two people who loved each other more than Rufus and Clara.’
I want to go through to the kitchen too, but I fight the urge. This is a constant struggle since Mum’s return – knowing my parents need time together, but not wanting to let Mum out of my sight.
‘She’s quite safe now,’ says Liam, as if reading my thoughts, ‘especially as she has all of us to protect her,’ and the professor and Brianna both nod reassuringly.
They’re right. And now that I’ve got all my family together, including my closest friends, I’m going to take very good care that no one threatens any of us ever again.
Tibor Jones Studio is a boutique writing collective dedicated to starting aspiring writers’ careers. We work under the name of Lena Jones, the fictional niece of the fictional Tibor Jones.
We would like to thank the following people for their help:
Martyn Morrisson of Phoenix Freestyle Kung Fu, for sharing his kung fu expertise; Adam in the library at Sir John Soane’s Museum for advice about the museum’s panelled display of paintings; Cleo Broda for introducing us to Anni Albers’s typewriter artwork; and Mr Robinson, physics teacher at Plume Academy, Maldon, for explaining why it’s impossible to travel at the speed of light, and so stopping us from inserting an erroneous passage!
The beautiful and super chic girl in Year Four at Corpus Christi who cut her hair in a bob and wore a red beret like Agatha on World Book Day this year; clever clogs Isaac Chesser, aged ten, and his family, who buy copies of Agatha Oddly for all their friends and family, and debate over their dinner if Agatha would ever wear hoop earrings while on an investigation; and Charlotte Colwill for her brave, creative navigation of book three.
We’re especially grateful to Rosie Sanders – a talented writer and poet who has carried the Agatha baton with great aplomb. And the biggest thanks to her family, Andrew, Robert and Thomas Erskine, who shared their talented mother with us while this book was being written. You guys are the real stars of this show. Thomas and Robert are especially useful with ciphers and science – that’s a fact.
Keep Reading …
Agatha Oddlow has been a detective for as long as she can remember – she’s just been waiting for her first big case. And nothing gets bigger than saving the city of London from some strange goings-on. But just who can she trust when no one is quite who they seem …
Agatha Oddlow’s just stumbled across her next big case … a murder at the British Museum.
But as Agatha starts to dig beneath the surface she begins to suspect that a wider plot is afoot below London – a plot involving a disused Tube station, a huge fireworks display and five thousand tonnes of gold bull
ion.
Luckily, Agatha’s on the trail …
Read all the Agatha Oddly adventures:
THE SECRET KEY
MURDER AT THE MUSEUM
THE SILVER SERPENT
www.agathaoddly.com
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