The Icicle Illuminarium

by N. J. Gemmell

  ‘Stand by, Company T.’ We gather close, by the back door. ‘There’s a secret way, across country,’ he whispers. ‘I found it last summer, when Her Ladyship was in Italy, with Darius. I had the run of the garden for two blissful weeks.’ Then he races in a zigzag through the grounds, taking cover by fences and stable walls. ‘We’ll head your uncle off just as he’s passing the glasshouse. Then he can disappear into the garden. You all can. Sob! Just vanish. Be safe. It’s through the undergrowth, but it’ll get to him quickest. Are you ready for some thorns?’ We nod, we’re ready for anything. ‘Then come on!’

  We tear behind him. Crawl, Indian file, on hands and knees at one point under toppled moss-heavy oak. Huge tree trunks have twisted to get at the light and the path darkens; the world closing over us in a jumble of vine and ivy. Now we’re on our chests, now standing under a spreading tree that feels like the great skirt of a Victorian giant. Down again, crawling, and it feels like we’re entering an underworld of damp and vines and dirt. We’re getting scratched, torn, wet and puffed but we do not stop. Not even Pin, who never complains, never moans.

  ‘How long have we got?’ Scruff asks at one point.

  ‘About five minutes.’

  ‘Blast,’ says Bone. ‘This is more overgrown than I thought.’

  ‘We’re running out of time,’ I cry. ‘Faster, Company T!’

  Bone leads us deep into a tangle of a forgotten garden, towards a tiny path ending at a gate that hasn’t been opened for centuries. We’re stuck. ‘Boooooone!’ Bert wails, furious. Scruff leaps straight in, tearing at the undergrowth, scrabbling at the gate. We join him, pushing and rocking, trying to break the lashings of brambles on the other side. This is not going to defeat us. Basti’s close, so close, yet we can’t yell out, can’t have him shouting back and alerting the house. Finally, finally, the gate falls on its hinges. An enormous stone wall is ahead, plumped out as if it’s been bloated by the sun and crowned with weeds that have found footholds on its rim.

  ‘Through here!’ Bone cries. A tiny opening, in the wall. Inside, a circular produce garden. Its beds still faintly there among a mess of weeds as tall as us. On the far side, toppled, the peak of a greenhouse. Its wooden roof frame straining from nature’s clutching like a person reaching from quicksand or an earthquake sunk church.

  ‘There’s a door in the fence! Through that greenhouse!’ Bert yells. We thunder over shattered glass, crawl under a broken roof beam and crouch through the door that’s almost completely covered in blackberry thorns. The bush grabs at our flesh – ow! – but no one stops. Basti, ahead. Finally.

  ‘Don’t break cover,’ I warn. ‘We can be seen from the house now.’

  We flit behind the great trunks of the oaks, right alongside our oblivious uncle. I quickly scan the house with the binoculars. Catch Lady Adora in a turret, with Darius, gesturing and pointing. They’ve seen him. They’re onto him. Nooooooooo. My heart sinks. This will be harder now. Bucket crashes into us with her joy. Thank goodness the house can’t see her – or us.

  ‘Uncle Basti,’ I whisper when I’m close to him.

  ‘Eh? What?’ He jumps a mile, nervous, glancing around.

  ‘It’s Kick. Don’t look at us! Just keep walking. Slowly. We’re right beside you. Pretend nothing has happened – we aren’t here.’

  Lady Adora has left the turret. Can’t see her anymore. Coming out to greet Basti, no doubt. Preparing for whatever’s next.

  ‘Could this be my little fanged Tassie tiger?’ Basti sounds so relieved. ‘Oh you’re safe, you’re found.’

  I blush. ‘Yes, it could well be me. But try not to talk. This is urgent. You’re being watched. From the house. You can’t do anything to alert them that something’s up.’

  ‘Right you are.’ He stops, his hand covering his mouth as if he’s cold. Good one, Basti. ‘My plan was to get close enough to the house to sneak inside,’ he explains through his fingers. ‘Find you all. Release you. Charlie Boo is waiting by the gatehouse as we speak, the car hidden in bushes. I was hoping to set you free without any confrontation – I do hate attack of any kind, as you well know. When we are safely back in London you are to explain all this madness to me.’

  ‘Stop talking, Basti!’ I cry in despair. ‘We need to think here. They’re on to you.’

  ‘But I’m so delighted to find you!’ He walks on, his hand still over his mouth. ‘I did miss you quite … forcefully … Miss Kick. Then I got the note from dear Bucket’s collar and was so dreadfully worried. She just turned up on my doorstep, can you believe it?’ Bucket gives a little yelp of appreciation, she knows we’re talking about her. ‘And the other little tiger cubs? All present and accounted for?’

  ‘Yes, yes. I tried to get rid of them but it didn’t work,’ I say hurriedly.

  ‘Splendid!’

  ‘Basti. Concentrate. This is important.’

  ‘But how thrilling that you lot are actually capable of being hidden and quiet for once. I’ve been trying to get that happening for days. What’s the secret?’

  ‘The secret is imminent death if you don’t listen. You’re in danger. They want to get rid of you. We’re all in danger. We have to leave immediately. Get back to London. See your lawyer, Horatio, if we can possibly drag him away from that Henrietta Witchum Maggs.’

  ‘Such a fragrant creature,’ Basti says.

  ‘We have to –’ deep breath ‘– change your will.’

  ‘My will? What? I haven’t looked at it for years …’

  ‘Make it out to anyone but Darius. The Snake Society of India, the Red Cross, whatever. Because Darius wants –’

  ‘Darius?’ Basti stops, stock-still. Goes deathly pale. Looks at the house, trying to work everything out here, his friend, the note he received from Bucket, us. ‘But – but he’s my best friend.’

  ‘No, Basti, no.’

  ‘Oh.’ And in that soft ‘oh’ it’s as if everything is suddenly dawning on him. His face is drained, bereft. ‘My only friend … what did you say … my will?’ He wipes his mouth like he’s going to be sick. His fingers are suddenly trembling. Bucket gives him a lick. ‘We need … we must … I – I don’t know what to do,’ he stumbles, holding his hand against a tree trunk as if to support the great body blow of what he’s just learnt.

  ‘K,’ Bone jumps in. ‘If Basti just turns around and runs away and disappears – they’ll get mightily suspicious up at the house. Jump in the van. Drive after us. Shut the gates ahead. None of you will be able to get out and you’ll be stuck in the grounds. With them, chasing after you. Where’s your car, Mr Caddy?’

  ‘B-By the gatehouse,’ Basti stutters. ‘Behind some bushes. But on this side of the estate. Mr Boo is waiting most patiently inside it, under instruction. I told him I’d be sorting this one out. It would be my moment of triumph. I gave him strict orders to stay put. Oh dear.’

  ‘Well then, you’ll never escape The Swallows and its grounds. Lady Adora knows every inch of it, as does Darius. You’ll be starved out. Frozen. Trapped in here forever. All five of you. So just stop for a moment. We need to think this through.’

  I stamp my foot. ‘Do you actually have a plan, Bone Boy? We don’t have long.’

  ‘Actually, K, I do.’ Bone smiles his smile that’s as wide as a watermelon split. ‘I’ve got Company T this far, remember? So don’t go fighting your C.O. Surrender. To me.’ I poke out my tongue. ‘In other words, just trust me, if you possibly can, for the rest of this.’

  I look at him dubiously. He nods. Winks. I smile and yes, urrrrrrrrrgh, surrender. Flashing him a V for Victory sign. Pin grabs it down. ‘Come on, Kicky,’ he urges in terror, looking at Basti, at all of us.

  He’s right.

  ‘Let’s go!’ I yell. Bucket barks in agreement.

  ‘You want out, don’t you? Well then, you’ll just have to follow the most esteemed Lord Bone, commander of all secrets of the Illuminarium, as you well know.’

  He looks at me. A direct challenge. Bucket looks from one of us to
the other, not knowing who to choose.

  I hate following anyone, most of all a boy. Have to. Nod, setting an example here, especially to Pin. Basti, meanwhile, stops to tie one shoelace then the other. Stalling, waiting, listening.

  ‘Okay, Mr Caddy,’ Bone explains, loving being in charge. ‘Just keep strolling as you’re doing, right up the driveway.’

  ‘I do love a plan,’ Basti responds.

  ‘Take it slowly. Look at the trees, the statues, pick some leaves. It buys us time. Then stop in the middle of the circular driveway, right by the entrance. But stay put. Don’t go into the house, under any circumstances. Stall, so they have to come out to you. Then wait. And voila, your family will come to rescue you.’

  The oak trees come alive with questions. ‘How?’ ‘Where are you, Bone?’ ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Don’t bail on us!’

  ‘Just do as I say. I’ll point you in the right direction. We’ve got to get to the stables. See that tall roof through the trees –’ we all look ‘– that’s where we’re headed. There are all these old bits of jeeps and tanks there, and there might be one that actually works.’ He grins.

  Scruff’s eyes are shining. His face says it all: it’s our big moment. ‘Let’s have some fun here, Bone Boy!’

  Bone holds up his V for Victory sign. ‘Drive you off into the sunset.’

  Basti signals to us that he’s got it. Rubs his hands down his trousers with the enormity of what’s ahead. Slowly he walks on, stopping to examine the great grooves of tree trunks and staring with pretend-interest at the white laden trees that are like strange, still coral. But he’s petrified, I can tell. His hands are shaking. He keeps on licking his lips in nervousness. This has to work; he has to get us out, and safe. And he’s colluding with a bunch of kids here, including one he’s never met in his life.

  ‘Gunners ready?’ Four Caddys and one dog nod to Bone. ‘Stand by, we’re going in.’

  Four salutes and we’re off, Bucket yappy at our heels. Heading to the stables, our quicksilver navigator always just ahead of us, urging us faster, faster, over fences and through broken gates, flitting past rhododendrons startled through bushes and tree roots like giant, slumbering lizards. Then a path of snow-streaked loam lifts back to reveal a gravel path, waiting for a waking.

  ‘Guess where it leads to?’ Bone whispers close.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I snap, prickling up all of a sudden. That we’re entrusting our lives to this enigma of a boy who has to make everything into a grand performance, even this, now; and that our darling Uncle Basti’s heading for a very exposed gravel driveway to wait for a rescue that mightn’t come. ‘Don’t be afraid, K.’ Bone grabs both my hands, drawing me deeper into the undergrowth. ‘Close your eyes. Trust me, just trust.’

  I do, for a moment, then snap my eyes open. ‘We have an uncle who needs saving here.’

  ‘But of course!’ The smile again. ‘This way, through this hole in the hedge.’ He disappears, we follow. Emerge into a small clearing. ‘My magic fairy ring.’ Bone sweeps his arm around it.

  A flower garden. Almost completely dusted by snow-weighted weed. We spin. What’s here? How can this help? Panicky breathing. In the far corner is an old summerhouse with three wide arches veiled by vines. ‘K, your chariot awaits,’ Bone bows low and indicates. We push through the tangle of weeds – expecting a lover’s seat perhaps, the vast emptiness of another of Bone’s pranks – but find something absolutely exhilarating and bang on: an old army jeep. Protected by dank coolness and crucially, miraculously, with a key still in its ignition. Bone says he recalls someone mentioning they could drive, but who, who?

  ‘That might have been me,’ I smile, running my hands over the rusty bonnet. Will it work? Will it save us? Dad taught me how to drive Matilda on my eleventh birthday – ‘We’ll make a man of you yet, Kick!’ – but I’m not telling Bone that our car ended up in the dam.

  ‘Kick drove our car into the d–’ Scruff says excitedly. Bert’s hand slams across his mouth.

  ‘What?’ Bone says, hauling vines off the jeep’s seats.

  ‘Desert. Once,’ says Scruff, dejectedly.

  ‘I got it working last summer,’ Bone mutters. ‘Well, started up. Then I didn’t know how to proceed from that point.’

  I look at the gears. The enormous steering wheel. Declare that I might be able to help because I’m an Aussie bush girl, after all, and everyone needs to stand back so I can show them what Aussie girls are made of! I jump into the front seat. Don’t have a convenient brick to tie on the pedal but my legs are just long enough, I reckon, yep, I can do this. Kick the ignition over. A cough, a splutter. Again and again. Four tries and bingo, she roars into life. The others cheer. Three Caddys and one dog jump in around me. ‘Yay, Kicky, yay!’ ‘Basti to the rescue!’ ‘Avoid the dams!’ I ask Bone how we get to the house. He points vaguely, stepping back and saluting us in farewell.

  ‘What? NO. You’re coming too, mate. You’ve got to navigate,’ I cry over the roar of the jeep.

  ‘Do you really need me?’ Bone sighs. ‘You have Bucket, and besides, I have some crystal to polish.’

  ‘We don’t know the clearest path. We’ll get stuck.’ I glare. ‘Bone, we need you. I need you. Right now.’

  ‘You don’t need anyone, K.’

  ‘Sometimes, actually, I do.’

  He raises an eyebrow. Shakes his head with a smile. ‘I’ll remember that comment.’ Climbs in. Pats me on the back then crouches behind the driver’s seat, well hidden.

  With screeching, grunting gears and then great kangaroo lurches – ‘Hold on tight!’ – we head joltingly towards the house. To the gravel drive. To Lady Adora, Darius and Hebe walking down the front steps. Adora has changed into a black velvet gown or what’s left of it and spindly black heels; dressed for dinner and matching Basti, magnificently, in sartorial splendour. Hebe, in sky-blue satin, is cowed and pale by her side, not wanting a new guest, I can tell, not wanting any of this.

  ‘Drive straight up to your uncle and haul him in,’ Bone yells. ‘Then leave the rest to your trusty navigator, K.’

  I raise a thumb. Got it, Bone Boy. We’ll grab Basti and tear away to the gatehouse and the waiting car and get us all safe and sound and then, only then, will we get back to the detective work on Mum. Work out how all the strands in this vast seething octopus of a mystery are connected; because they are, I just know it. We might have to return to the Illuminarium one day, to the army village and its school room and Hebe and Bone, but at least Charlie Boo and Dad will be on board and Basti will be out of Lady Adora’s line of sight. Rock-solid safe. The main thing right now. Because we love him very much, and can’t bear to see him hurt.

  We career onto the gravel. Lurch with a kangaroo hop right by Basti, who’s staring at us, at his friend Darius, at Lady Adora, at the whole crazy, cacophonous lot of it and suddenly looking very old and lost.

  ‘Jump in!’ we yell to our uncle as I swerve just slow enough for Basti to run and take a flying leap – he makes it! Head first, feet sticking out, then rights himself, flying cap still intact. ‘I say! I jolly well say!’ he says, breathless.

  Adora and Darius are racing down the steps, yelling, ‘Stop, stop!’ Adora enormously wobbly in her heels.

  ‘You Aussies are always doing it your way, aren’t you?’ Basti shakes his head in shock and I drive off in a jerky mess of joyous squealing and whooping and licking (Bucket). Straight onto the ornamental lawn. Whoops. ‘Where am I going?’ I shout to Bone.

  ‘This way!’ he roars, pointing to the sea. ‘It’s a shortcut to the entrance gate. Across country. Atta girl!’

  ‘Stop immediately!’ Darius yells, but we most certainly do not and the two of them dash to his van. He can’t find his keys, gets out, pats himself down, retrieves them, revs up. ‘Hebe!’ Lady Adora commands. ‘Get in the car immediately. Move, lump!’

  ‘We have to get to my car – it’s faster, more reliable – it’ll save us,’ Basti yells, nudging me
aside, taking over the jeep’s wheel, automatically snapping on his seatbelt and smoothing the ride out.

  ‘This way!’ Bone shouts behind his ear as the rest of us cling on for dear life, the car swerving and swaying around headless statues and topiary gone wild. Darius chases us through the grounds with Lady Adora leaning most unladylike out the window of his passenger seat, urging him on and yelling, ‘Stop, obey, you appalling children, at once.’

  Bone bobs up at one point and crashes back down. ‘Lady Adora. She saw me,’ he gasps, his face terrified and white. He holds my hand, clutches it.

  ‘You’ve got to direct us, Bone Boy,’ I cry. ‘Don’t give up on us now, just stay low.’

  He smiles at me. ‘Stand by, K, I’ll draw the flak off you.’ He rises, crouching behind Basti’s shoulders, knowing full well the consequences of being seen by those following us. ‘This way … left … along this path,’ he directs, hoarse. ‘Hold tight, Company T! It’s a wild ride ahead. Follow the tank tracks.’

  Whooooaaaaa, as we slip and slide and skid.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Basti yells at one point.

  ‘Into the grass. Quicker. And harder for them to follow us.’

  ‘Oh dear, my eyes aren’t the best. Old age.’

  ‘You can do it, Uncle Basti.’ Bert squeezes his shoulder and Bucket barks.

  ‘Barely, Miss Albertina.’

  ‘To the left,’ Bone directs.

  Er, we seem to be heading straight to the sea. What’s happening here? ‘My car is near the gatehouse,’ Basti shouts.

  ‘It’s the shortcut.’ Bone glances behind him, at Darius. ‘They’re gaining.’ We all look: he’s right.

  Pin screams. ‘Don’t worry, Pinny,’ I yell.

  ‘No, Kick, it’s a cliff!’

  Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

  Straight ahead, suddenly, a ravine, as we burst through a bank of trees. A ravine too-close and cut severely into the cliff. We hadn’t noticed it until it was almost upon us. The trees go right up to the cliff edge at this place.