Toby Fisher and the Arc Light

by Ian McFarlane

  Toby felt quite miffed. ‘That’s always what you adults say. I’m not a kid any more. I’ve seen loads of stuff others my age haven’t, and I do okay with it,’ he said. ‘If I’m in danger then I need to know,’ he said, more loudly than he expected.

  ‘You tell her, Toby,’ shouted Smokey, grinning slyly.

  ‘Button it,’ growled Charlie. The café went quiet. ‘Toby, there will be a time for you to know but that time is not now. It’s better that you don’t know – the professor himself has told me that. You would probably be in more danger if you did know at this moment,’ finished Charlie, clearly gambling the last statement would stop the questions.

  It did.

  Toby was disappointed. ‘So what happens now?’ he said, hurt.

  ‘It will be all right,’ she said in a reassuring tone. ‘Come on. It’s time to leave. Let’s get back to the professor.’

  The truth of the matter was that it was not all right. In fact, it couldn’t have been much worse. Charlie had heard from the Ghost Council: the government had not believed a word at the meeting. The following morning the prime minister had written it all off as a bad hangover, a stress-related nightmare. He had gone on holiday to Cornwall for a much-needed break. ‘Cornish teas and ice cream! Wonderful! No meetings and no ghosts. In fact, ghosts do not exist!’ he had been heard to say through gritted teeth.

  7

  Black Bess

  Toby and Charlie stood warily at the end of the pathway to the old red-brick house in Richmond: Toby’s home. The door was wide open and loose clothing was strewn over the top step. Toby desperately ran up to the door.

  ‘Steady, Toby,’ cried Charlie, ‘I’ll go in first. You follow,’ she instructed. Charlie disappeared through the wall as Toby gradually pushed the door open wide. He had to push hard as a small bookcase was leaning against the back of the door. The room was in a terrible mess. Tables had been smashed and left with bits of leg hanging off limply. Settees had been turned upside down and their undersides ripped open, and every picture in the main room had been pulled off the wall so violently that large gaping holes remained where the hooks used to be. Toby found it hard to walk without the crunch of smashed pottery under his shoes. He half expected the professor to appear at his study door and laugh, explaining an experiment had gone wrong. He did not appear. Charlie re-emerged from the kitchen and quickly disappeared again into the study. Toby feared the worst.

  ‘It’s the same in there, Toby,’ she said shaking her head. In fact, the house was empty – no professor and no Robert. The only thing that remained undisturbed was the grandfather clock with its hands stuck resolutely at three minutes to sixty-four. It was a peculiar clock.

  Toby and Charlie were deeply concerned. The dark brooding silence was suddenly broken by a brushing sound.

  ‘What was that?’ shouted Toby, looking over his shoulder.

  Desperate to find the professor he dashed into the kitchen. He was vaguely aware of Charlie shouting after him but he paid no attention. On top of the fridge door was a white gloved hand, the arm and its body disappearing inside. The door slammed shut. Toby shouted out, but the door did not re-open.

  ‘Toby?’ shouted Charlie as she arrived.

  ‘It was Robert,’ he said, opening up the fridge door.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked, as they both stared inside the fridge at the only thing they could see: a mouldy bit of cheese.

  ‘It was him. He went in here, I saw him,’ shouted Toby. ‘He’s done this . . .’ shouted Toby, struggling to hold back the tears.

  ‘It’s okay, Toby. We’ll find them,’ said Charlie.

  ‘He’s killed him, I know it.’

  ‘Toby, how could you? Now listen carefully to me. Robert is the most loyal assistant you will ever find. You may not like him but Robert adores the professor. He will do him no harm. Do you understand me?’ she said in a crisp and clear tone.

  Toby didn’t understand why he had seen Robert and not the professor. And how did Robert disappear into a fridge? He kicked the door out of frustration and with a little anger too. They heard a soft flapping sound and Charlie looked up. Spinning freely in the air over the fridge was a folded piece of paper. She reached up and grabbed it.

  ‘It’s a letter. And it’s addressed to you,’ she said, passing the paper over to Toby.

  Toby opened it with shaking hands.

  Dear Toby

  I am sorry I could not say goodbye. Events have shifted far quicker than I expected. It is necessary for me to disappear as much for my own safety as it is for yours. I understand that you have many questions and I promise you I will be in touch, although when and how I am uncertain. I am sorry I cannot provide you with any more information. Charlie will guide you. Please pass this on to Charlie.

  Charlie looked at Toby’s letter and read it. She then flipped it over.

  Charlie

  I suspect that Toby has not had the opportunity to give you the letter I asked him to deliver. Please do not be angry with him. He is very young and has seen much already, things that a thirteen-year-old should not have to deal with. Unfortunately, time is not our friend and we need to move rapidly. When you have finished with your own letter please ensure that he makes his flight. You know where he needs to go. It is imperative this letter gets placed inside the fridge as soon as you have finished with it. I hope to see you again soon.

  Professor Laken

  Charlie slowly placed the letter back in the fridge and closed the door. She understood the professor’s letter perfectly.

  ‘What does this all mean?’ asked Toby. The tears trickled down onto his chin. Charlie had never seen Toby cry. She just wanted to hug him tightly and make it all go away.

  ‘Toby, I’m sorry I don’t have the answers. I understand you have a letter for me,’ she said, after deciding there was nothing further to add, at least for the moment.

  Toby reached into his pocket and drew out the silver letter. He handed it to Charlie without a word.

  ‘It will be okay,’ she said, placing her ghostly hand on his cheek.

  Toby closed his eyes briefly. As Charlie read the letter her fingers started to tremble.

  ‘Surely not,’ she muttered to herself. Her eyes flashed through the contents; it was not a long letter. She read it two or three times. On each passage her smile grew bigger and bigger. A tear rolled down her cheek as she dropped the letter and she slapped her hand over her mouth in shock. She wanted to shout out but what if it was a cruel joke? What if she shouted out her name and she didn’t come?

  ‘Bess,’ she muttered, ‘Bess.’ Charlie’s voice got higher and higher. ‘Toby, stay back against the fridge. You’ll be safe, I promise . . . Bess!’ Charlie repeated the name over and over again. Toby covered his ears as Charlie started to screech.

  Toby felt a small vibration through his feet. As it got stronger and stronger Charlie stopped shouting. She had spittle down her chin and she looked like a crazy ghost with her eyes wide open. She was panting heavily even though she didn’t need to breathe. The vibration turned into a rumbling that got deeper and louder. She ran from the kitchen into the next room, disappearing out of Toby’s sight. The noise and rumbling was getting so bad Toby thought the house would fall down. Then there was an almighty crash as if the adjacent room had exploded. Loud whinnying and stamping followed, echoing through the kitchen door. He could hear Charlie crying. He wanted to run in there and save her but he felt so scared his legs would not move. He could still hear Charlie calling ‘Bess’ but she sounded pitiful, weakened. With his hands shaking he reached for the door. He managed to move one rigidly stubborn leg. He edged forward dreading what he might see. Heavy snorting came from the room as the stamping and whinnying continued. Charlie cried and sobbed profusely. Toby got to the edge of the door and took a deep breath, slowly peering into the next room. What he saw took his breath away. Toby stared and held his breath until his lungs were nearly bursting with the need for air. He sucked in a large gulp. The creature shot
a dreadful stare at him and snorted loudly through its nostrils. Toby threw himself back against the wall out of sight. He could hear Charlie whisper.

  ‘It’s okay, Bess, it’s okay, he’s my friend, and he won’t harm you. No one can, not now.’

  Toby’s ears pounded with the beat of his heart. Charlie carried on in the same reassuring, gentle voice. The creature’s snorting settled. Charlie called out to Toby.

  ‘It’s okay, she won’t harm you. Please come in. I want you to meet my Bess, my beautiful Black Bess,’ cried Charlie, sniffing back tears.

  Standing before Toby was a huge muscular ghost horse. It was a magnificent sight. The horse, Black Bess, stood as tall as the ceiling. Its eyes shone like black diamonds and its nostrils flared so wide they looked as if they could suck you up in one piece. Charlie stood by its powerful neck holding on as if she had no intention of ever letting go.

  ‘Come,’ she said, waving Toby over. ‘Let Bess sniff you. She will like you, I guarantee it.’

  As Toby stepped forward Bess’s eyes opened wide as if fearful of what she sensed. She snorted loudly. She stamped her powerful hooves into the floor, cracking the wood, backing up at the same time.

  ‘Bess!’ shouted Charlie, alarmed. ‘Whoa, girl, it’s okay!’ Charlie could not hide her surprise as she stroked Bess on the nose trying to calm her down. She looked into her eyes. ‘He won’t harm you, or me. I promise you. He is my friend.’ Charlie turned to face Toby. ‘Put your hand out and stand still,’ she instructed him.

  Bess edged forward slowly, sniffing and snorting. She allowed Toby to touch and stroke her snout but she had not lost that wide-eyed look, as if she feared Toby.

  ‘This is a wonderful surprise, Toby. This is my old Bess. Isn’t she beautiful?’

  Toby shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know Charlie even had a horse.

  ‘I haven’t seen her in nearly three hundred years.’ A flicker of anger crossed her eyes. ‘Even curses wear out over time. I knew she would come back,’ muttered Charlie, as she continued to stroke Bess.

  ‘Toby, I’ve had an idea! Find something with the professor’s smell on it: a coat or scarf or something. You know him better than I do. Now go, we don’t have much time,’ she said assertively.

  Toby ran up the stairs. He looked in one of the large closets on the landing. Hanging from the rail were about a dozen green velvet jackets and tan moleskin trousers. Toby was just about to close the door when he spotted something on the closet floor: a multi-coloured woolly hat. The professor always wore this in the garden when gazing at the stars. He sniffed it and recoiled at the hideous musty smell. It was perfect.

  Toby ran down the stairs and eagerly handed it over to Charlie. But instead of taking the woolly hat Charlie grabbed his wrist and guided the hat towards Bess. She sniffed the scent of the hat and whinnied lightly.

  ‘Done,’ said Charlie triumphantly. ‘Bess can locate anyone once she has their smell. A rare gift in a horse, but then Bess was never what I regarded as a run-of-the-mill horse, were you . . . are you, my beauty?’ chuckled Charlie tearfully. ‘Not used to having you around, am I?’ Charlie seemed quite googly-eyed.

  ‘Toby, I must get you out of London,’ she said seriously. ‘It’s not safe for you to be here anymore. Toby was alarmed. ‘Don’t worry, I know where to send you.’

  ‘But I don’t want to leave London. What about the professor?’ he asked desperately.

  ‘Now Bess has returned I can travel a lot quicker. Neither land nor sea can stop me. I will keep searching for him,’ she said airily, but Toby could not see the point at all. ‘Toby, I will come to see you. When it is safe I will let you know about the professor. Do you hear me?’ Toby nodded. ‘Do you trust me?’ He nodded again.

  At over six feet tall Charlie stood a head above Toby. She bent down and cupped his face in her hands. ‘When the professor is ready he will get in touch but I now have the means of finding him. So don’t worry – everything will be all right. And I will definitely come and visit you. You can show me and Bess off to your new friends.’

  ‘Friends . . .? What – school?’ wailed Toby in disgust.

  ‘No, you’ll be glad to hear it’s not a school. It’s something far better than that. You will learn much there mind you, Toby – new friends, new home. Isn’t that exciting?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘But I want to stay and help. There’s loads of stuff I can do here. I . . . I could stay at the café and work for Mary. They would have me.’

  Charlie shook her head. ‘Mary is a tough cookie but even she could not protect you. You will help us and yourself by going. You will be safe. It’s at Tintagel Castle in Cornwall, it’s a lovely part of the country,’ she added lamely. But any further objections or excuses were interrupted by a loud and piercing squeal from the front of the house.

  ‘Car tyres,’ muttered Charlie nervously. She quickly glanced over the chaotic mess in the room before looking at the front door. Three slow dull bangs on the old brass door knocker boomed out. Toby nearly jumped out his skin. Charlie sort of popped like a fizzy bottle and disappeared, reappearing seconds later.

  ‘I’ll take a look,’ she said with a quiver in her voice. It was most unlike ghosts to be scared, least of all Charlie who had a reputation for being the toughest ghost of all.

  8

  The Silver Messenger

  The heavy door knocker thudded three more times, very slowly. Charlie turned and looked at Black Bess.

  ‘Ready?’

  The horse shook its head up and down and then snorted through her dark nostrils. Her fierce eyes followed Charlie as she gingerly walked towards the door. Charlie took a deep breath – Toby thought it must have been out of habit – and poked her ghostly head straight through the door leaving just her body visible to Toby. She soon popped back in.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said brightly. All traces of her nerves and tension seemed to have trickled away like dirty bath water through a ludicrously large open plug hole. ‘It’s the messenger from Cornwall. He’s here for you, Toby,’ she said, nodding encouragingly at the door.

  With some trepidation Toby walked towards the door and slowly pulled it open, just enough to peer through a slim crack. A tall man stood before him on the steps. He wore a tweed jacket, a pristine white shirt and an immaculately knotted neck tie. His tweed breeches comically stopped just short of his knees. Dark green socks covered the rest of his legs. His shoes were deeply polished brown brogues. He had a pale, almost silvery but non-ghostly kind of complexion. It made him look slightly ill, very unhuman. On his head was a flat tweed cap worn back to front. A pair of leather and brass-rimmed goggles hung around his neck.

  He smiled in a strange, almost mechanical manner. ‘Good morning, sir. Do I have the pleasure of addressing Master Toby Fisher?’ he asked in a way that made him sound almost like a computer.

  Toby nodded, feeling very unsure of who, or indeed what this man was.

  The man stood to attention and saluted. ‘I am very pleased to meet you, sir,’ he continued in his computer-type voice. ‘I am here to escort you to the village. Are you ready, sir?’ he finished without taking a breath.

  ‘Ready?’ said Toby, his eyes wide open. ‘What, now?’

  ‘Of course, sir, haven’t you been told . . . no? Not to worry, sir, it happens,’ he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. There was an uncomfortable silence until the man bent forward with a slight whirring, mechanical, clicking sound. His right hand reached down and his fingers gripped the air tightly as if to pick something up.

  ‘So shall we go, sir?’ he said, looking at his fingers and flexed them open and closed. He clearly expected to see a bag in his grip. The expression on his face didn’t change but his eyes looked confused.

  ‘But I haven’t got my clothes and things,’ said Toby, stepping back from the messenger.

  ‘All has been arranged. Your clothes will be sent on, sir,’ he said automatically.

  Toby
couldn’t help a growing sense of betrayal. The professor had not been honest with him and now Charlie was stepping aside as some overdressed, robotic weirdo wanted to take him away from his beloved London, from everything he knew, from everything he felt safe with. Toby turned his back on the messenger who maintained a blank and unhuman expression. Toby hoped this was all a big mistake.

  ‘Charlie?’

  She nodded at Toby gently and encouragingly. ‘It’s time for you to go, Toby. The professor organised this just in case he had to leave suddenly.’

  ‘He knew . . .? How long?’

  It was betrayal. The professor did know something and he’d never told him. Toby couldn’t hide the feeling of anger that crept up from his gut. Charlie walked over to Toby and put her arms around him. Toby shrugged them off.

  ‘It will be okay, Toby,’ she said comfortingly.

  ‘But I don’t want to go. This is my home,’ he said desperately. ‘I can live here without the professor. I know how to cook.’

  ‘You can’t live off baked beans, Toby. Besides, it is just simply too dangerous here. Until we know what the general is up to you must go to a safer place. And yes, it does have to be a different place to the professor.

  ‘That part is really important. However, I promise that when the professor returns then we will call for you. In fact, I will come and get you personally with Bess. Agreed?’

  Toby’s head dropped. He had no choice and he knew it. ‘I could always fly back,’ he said with a hint of defiance, if not a little hope that Charlie would see it was impossible to keep him away from London.

  ‘You could,’ said Charlie in a tone that pretty much implied Don’t even try it. And she backed it up with a You have no choice kind of look.