The Children of Castle Rock

by Natasha Farrant

  Something was shifting again in Alice’s mind – the vertigo, which she had always thought started when Mum died – it hadn’t started immediately, but weeks after the funeral, when Alice had climbed up her favourite tree because Dad had gone away, and refused to come down until he came back, and then panicked, and froze. In the end, Aunt Patience had had to call the fire brigade to rescue her. Everyone knew that story.

  She saw it now. It wasn’t Mum’s death that had made her fearful, it was Barney. Barney, who could charm a furious boy with a well-told story … Barney with his snow angels and escapades …

  Barney, who could always make her do exactly what he wanted … who she was always looking for in her dreams, running down empty corridors …

  ‘It’s not the Leopard!’ Fergus yelled. ‘The boat! It’s the coastguard! The coastguard! They’re … NO! They’re heading to the landing jetty! They haven’t seen us! Over here! Over here! Come back!’

  ‘Alice!’ Barney was panicking now. ‘Alice, please! I can’t let the coastguard find me!’

  Slowly but steadily, she resumed her descent. One hand over the other, step by step, but when she reached the bottom of the cliff, she held on to the rope.

  ‘Alice, hurry!’ He was waving her over, already pushing his stolen boat towards the sea. Alice didn’t move. She wondered if he would even wait for the others.

  ‘Where will you go?’ she shouted.

  ‘What?’

  ‘When you have the money? Where will you go?’

  He was walking over, still half turned towards the boat. ‘Can we talk about this later?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I want to talk about it now.’

  He ran his hands through his hair, so that it stuck up all over his head. Alice used to love it when he did that. Sometimes, he did it on purpose to make her laugh, crossing his eyes and pulling his shirt sideways until he was a dishevelled mess, and Alice a writhing, giggling heap, and Patience would invariably say ‘For heaven’s sake, Barney, grow up!’.

  But that was the thing, she realised. He was supposed to be the grown-up. He was the one who should be telling them what to do – not a twelve-year-old boy like Jesse with a twisted ankle, still hanging anxiously over the cliff. And it wasn’t Alice’s fault that they were here – not entirely. It was his. She saw that now.

  Even so – one last time, because she loved him, she gave him the benefit of the doubt. It wasn’t like anyone had actually been hurt, he had said … And if the money was for them … If he would only say that he had done it so that they would never again be separated – that he would never disappear again on trips that they all knew had nothing to do with the theatre – if he would only say that he loved her, Alice thought, with a sudden stab of pain.

  Like Aunt Patience did, she realised, in every single one of her letters and emails. Like Fergus had said at Calva – do you remember? – and even Jesse had begrudgingly admitted.

  ‘What will you do with the money?’ she repeated.

  ‘I … I don’t know,’ Barney faltered. ‘I haven’t really thought.’

  Alice turned away.

  ‘There’s another boat!’ Fergus yelled from the top of the cliff. ‘I think it’s the Leopard! It is the Leopard!’

  Alice took the rope in both hands.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ Jesse called down.

  ‘Alice, what are you doing?’ Barney had run up to her now, and was pleading. ‘Alice, come to the boat!’

  ‘No thank you,’ she said, very politely. ‘I think I’d rather take my chances with the cliff.’

  Afterwards, she said it felt as if the world had slowed right down. She looked up and saw her friends, Fergus’s skinny silhouette outlined against the sky on the battlement, Jesse’s anxious face pinched with pain, and she thought how much they had done for her. Then she looked at Barney and knew that he would never change.

  ‘I love you, Dad.’ She sniffed, wiped her nose on her sleeve, rubbed away her tears with the heels of her hands, then pulled him close for a brief, fierce hug. ‘And I’ll miss you, but I’m used to that. And now you’d better go.’

  One hand over the other, eyes in front, legs braced as Jesse had told her, she started to climb. Unafraid, up and up, never looking down and never stopping, not even when she heard the sound of an engine starting below, or when the sky exploded with purple smoke.

  Fearless.

  Her mother would have been proud.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Crime or Maybe Ornithology

  The firework Fergus had picked up by the loch, tightly sealed in its plastic bag in his rucksack, was miraculously still dry, as was the lighter he had packed with it.

  ‘Why did you even bring that?’ Jesse shouted as it went up.

  ‘Like those flares sailors use at sea if they’re in trouble,’ Fergus called down from the battlement. ‘I just thought it might be useful. Don’t tell me how many rules I’m breaking, Jesse. Call me a genius instead!’

  ‘Did they see the firework?’ cried Alice, rolling off the top of the rope on to the cliff. ‘Is the coastguard coming?’

  ‘I can’t see, the boat’s gone behind a headland … Jesse, are you watching the Leopard?’

  ‘They’re still heading this way – Alice, pull up the rope so they can’t climb up if they land! It’ll buy us some time, at least, until the coastguard gets here … No, wait! I think they’ve … the Leopard’s turning! She’s going after Mr Mistlethwaite … Fergus, what’s happening?’

  ‘I still can’t see the coastguard …’

  The three children sat and looked out to sea, Fergus from his perch, Alice and Jesse from the cliff, and tried to reassure each other.

  ‘Dad …’ said Alice. ‘The Leopard …’

  ‘She won’t catch him,’ Jesse said as the boats sped away. ‘He’s got a head start, and a faster boat. I’m more worried about us. What if they don’t find us?’

  ‘We’ll go back to the jetty when the tide goes out.’

  ‘But the puffin boat’s gone! And we don’t have any food! Or a tent. And I can’t walk.’

  ‘We’ll fish!’ shouted Fergus from the battlement. ‘We’ll find a cave! We’ll carry you if we have to!’

  ‘And there’s bound to be another boat tomorrow,’ said Alice.

  They fell silent, eyes still riveted on the waves.

  ‘Hey.’ Jesse nudged her. ‘You OK?’

  ‘I will be.’ She leaned her head, very briefly, on his shoulder. ‘Fergus is right, parents are rubbish.’

  ‘Some parents,’ said Jesse, fairly.

  Alice looked away, pretending there was something in her eye, and Jesse offered no help, but pretended to believe her. Her tears wiped away, she pointed at his foot with a shaky smile.

  ‘You’ve got to stop looking back when you run, Jesse.’

  ‘One day I’ll learn,’ he grinned.

  Alice watched and watched as the boats bearing Barney and the Leopard grew smaller and smaller, until they were nothing more than dots on the horizon.

  ‘Anything?’ Jesse yelled up at Fergus.

  ‘Nothing!’

  ‘Now?’ Jesse asked, a minute later. ‘Still noth—Wait! Yes! Yes! Yes!’ Fergus was on his feet, jumping up and down, waving like a lunatic. ‘They’re coming this way! They saw my flare! I’m a genius! Look at me! Look at me! Guys, wave! We’re here! Oh my god, the major’s with them! And Madoc!’

  And they heard the boom of the coastguard’s horn.

  *

  Alice and Fergus let the rope back out, but the children didn’t go down to the beach. Now they were about to be rescued, they didn’t want it to be over.

  They all lay on the grass at the top of the cliff, waiting for the boat to arrive, as gulls and shags and puffins and guillemots went about their busy lives around them. They looked up at the cloudless sky, and the boys talked while Alice thought.

  ‘I’ve made a decision,’ said Jesse. ‘I’m going to give up the violin. You absolutely do not need the violin t
o be an explorer.’

  ‘Good for you,’ said Fergus. ‘I’m going to stop pulling stupid pranks, and focus on being brilliant at something. Like crime. Or maybe ornithology. I haven’t decided which yet. Maybe I’ll do both.’

  Jesse grunted approval.

  ‘What about you, Alice?’ Fergus asked. ‘What are you going to do?’

  Alice answered with a question.

  ‘Would you mind,’ she said, ‘when they ask why we did it, if we didn’t tell them the truth?’

  ‘To protect your dad?’ Fergus, whose appreciation of Barney had not improved, looked mutinous.

  ‘That,’ Alice said. ‘But also – I’ve still got the statue.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  A Million Euros

  There were Consequences.

  The major, having rescued the children from the island with Madoc and the coastguard, subjected them to a barrage of interrogation which stopped briefly when Madoc pointed out they were hurt, and started again after first aid had been applied.

  Fergus, to his great satisfaction, got his dramatic rescue. Back on Lumm, a doctor was consulted. The police were called and informed the children had been found. An email was sent out to all parents from a hotel, claiming (falsely) that at no point had the children been in danger, and a press release was issued to satisfy the disaster-hungry local media. The children’s families descended on Stormy Loch – Aunt Patience, Jesse’s mother and two of his brothers, and both of Fergus’s parents. There were tears and angry words but also tight, fierce hugs, so that none of the children could doubt how very much they were loved.

  Through it all, the children made no mention of statues, Italians or fathers, and stoutly professed a previously unspoken passion for seabirds.

  ‘Particularly puffins,’ said Fergus. ‘Puffins are amazing.’

  To which the major replied, ‘The devil with puffins! In Iceland, they boil puffins for breakfast!’ and that he wanted a Full Report on the Ornithological Significance of the Isle of Nish, together with Geological, Botanical and Scientific Points of Interest, as well as a Complete History of the People of the West Coast of Scotland from the Vikings to the Present Day, to be presented to the whole school with the aid of photographs, videos and preferably a couple of songs at the next morning assembly.

  ‘AND WHEN YOU’VE FINISHED, YOU CAN CLEAN THE MINIBUS!’ he roared. ‘WHILE I DECIDE WHETHER OR NOT TO EXPEL THE LOT OF YOU!’

  After which he locked himself in his study, and began to obsessively check his inbox for emails from parents saying they were removing their children from school. There were no such emails, but he kept checking anyway. After the Unfortunate Incident involving the van Boek girl and the chemistry lab only last term, Stormy Loch did not need bad publicity.

  They literally could not afford it.

  He fell asleep on the sofa, covered in kittens, and he was still there when Alice knocked on his door the following morning.

  *

  ‘I came to say it was all my fault.’ She stood in the middle of the room, facing the open window because she couldn’t quite meet the major’s eyes. ‘It was my idea to go to the island. I was … looking for something, I suppose. Someone told me about it. They made it sound wonderful – like a story in a book. I’m sorry – I can’t really explain. But I just wanted to make it clear, about the boys. I’m the one who should be punished.’

  The major, addled from sleep and with a kitten kneading his leg with its claws, stared at the small girl standing very straight before him and wondered what on Earth he was supposed to say, let alone do.

  ‘When you do punish me,’ Alice faltered, ‘it would be very nice if you didn’t expel me.’

  The major found that something was tickling his nose. Also, slightly prickling his eyes. He cleared his throat, very loudly.

  ‘The island, was it wonderful?’ he asked. ‘Did you find what you were looking for?’

  Alice stared very hard out of the window.

  ‘I didn’t find what I was looking for, no. But I do think I may have found what I wanted.’

  The major followed her gaze outside.

  It was Sunday, and Stormy Loch was at play. The rowing boats were out in force on emerald-green water. Someone was playing a guitar near the music tower, and a rowdy football game was taking place on the sports field. These were sights and sounds to lift his heart but not, he suspected, what Alice was gazing at so fiercely. He looked closer, searching for details – ah, there they were! Jesse Okuyo, sitting with his mother and brothers on a bench facing the loch, and Fergus Mackenzie walking along the shore, holding hands with both his parents, and Alice’s aunt on the jetty with … Madoc?

  ‘She’s a really good artist,’ said Alice. ‘And you need a new art teacher.’

  ‘I do,’ admitted the major.

  ‘She loves it here,’ said Alice. ‘We both do.’

  ‘You do?’ The major felt quite extraordinarily pleased. ‘So do I!’

  ‘Then we can stay?’

  He tried to be stern. ‘Have you actually spoken to your aunt about this?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Alice beamed. ‘But I’m sure I can convince her.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt you can,’ he said drily. ‘And yes – you can stay.’

  Alice’s smile lit up the room.

  ‘Thank you! Thank you so much! You can punish me any other way you want! I promise I won’t complain a bit. From now on, I’ll be a model of excellent behaviour!’

  ‘I’ll look forward to that.’

  She skipped towards the door, then stopped and walked back towards him, fumbling for something in her jacket pocket.

  ‘I nearly forgot,’ she said (unconvincingly, the major thought afterwards). ‘We found this too.’

  She dropped something into his hand, smooth and surprisingly warm, about the size of a plum.

  ‘It was just lying on the beach,’ she said, and was gone before he could react.

  *

  He knew exactly what it was, but checked online just to be sure. There it was, the whole story – the little jade statue, the impossible robbery, the colossal reward …

  And it was just lying on the beach?

  It wasn’t possible – was it? He should ask questions. There was a story here, and it was his duty as a responsible headmaster to get to the bottom of it.

  On the other hand …

  ‘A million euros,’ the major thought. ‘What the school could do with a million euros …’

  He watched from his tower as Alice ran out to the jetty to hug her aunt, danced back to Jesse’s bench, waved at Fergus. A different child to the one who had arrived at the beginning of term, so lost and so troublesome. A happy child. He had been right to take her in, despite the lack of school fees.

  A million euros … he couldn’t – could he?

  But what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t very well keep the statue! And if someone was offering good money for it …

  His eye fell on the door of his office, repainted just last week a particularly violent shade of mauve. The guitar’s song outside reminded him that the recent renovation of the music tower was still not paid for. And just before leaving for Lumm, he had received a telephone call from another headmistress about a child – a good child, but a troubled one who had just been excluded and, like so many waifs and strays, could do so well with a new beginning.

  A million euros …

  The major placed the boy and his dragon carefully on his desk, and picked up the phone.

  EPILOGUE

  Think of a rosebush, by a loch.

  The bush is positively exploding with flowers, blowsy white roses which ramble up and over a stone wall, reaching into trees, twining through and over shrubs. It is the most beautiful, most riotous rosebush you have ever seen in your life. When the wind blows – and it very often does blow, here at Stormy Loch – it looks like the roses are dancing.

  The rosebush isn’t actually here yet, but it will be. Alice has told Patience she has to bring it
next term, when she comes to be the new art teacher. She has looked up how to plant a rosebush online. Together, she and Patience will find a sheltered, south-facing wall, and dig a big hole, into which they will pour water and rake manure from the farm. Then, very carefully so as not to damage the roots, they will plant Clara Kaminska Mistlethwaite’s rosebush, and over the next few years they will watch it grow even stronger and more joyful than it was at Cherry Grange.

  Just like Alice herself.

  Meanwhile … Ah, meanwhile …

  Picture a lot of children in boats on the loch. Not just Alice and Fergus and Jesse, but Samira, Jenny and Duffy too, Amir and Esme and Zuzu and Zeb. It’s late – it’s so late! It’s gone ten o’clock in the evening, and tomorrow is a school day, and all of these children ought to be in bed. But the summer term is becoming exactly what the major said it would, with days that go on forever and nights that feel like day. The sun disappeared ages ago behind the mountains and still the sky is light, with a smattering of pale stars and a slither of moon, and the twilight seems to glow.

  Nobody ever wants to go to bed!

  Last night, this same band of children sneaked out of school for a not-very-secret midnight picnic up the valley. Tonight, they’re meant to be fishing.

  As a fishing party, I have to tell you, they are not successful. To catch fish, it’s important to be quiet, and it’s best if you’re alone, or with just one other person, and you shouldn’t talk, let alone shout or laugh. You certainly shouldn’t rock boats, or accidentally fall in the water, or when you have accidentally fallen in, try to pull other people after you.

  These children haven’t caught so much as a minnow, but they really don’t care.

  Just look at them – Jesse and Fergus and Alice! What a long way they’ve come since we first met them. Look at Jesse, our good boy, Captain Fussypants, rocking the boat with his full weight to try and tip Zeb into the water! Look at Fergus, our evil prankster, having a shy, quiet conversation with Samira in a boat a little apart from all the others … And look at Alice! Timid, silent Alice, laughing almost as loud as Jenny!