‘Correction, listening to you,’ said Ralick.
‘Who could it have been?’
‘Perhaps it was a Snow Ogre who fattens up little girls on cinnamon buns, and then eats them,’ said Ralick.
‘Ha, ha,’ said Copper. ‘Why would anyone spy on me? Let’s go and investigate.’
She dressed quickly and stepped out into the corridor.
Now Copper saw that it wasn’t only her room which was odd – the entire house was very peculiar. Everything was made out of wood and not a single bit of it was straight: the walls curved in and out, the planks underfoot undulated like frozen waves and the ceiling arched over her head like a chapel ceiling.
She followed the corridor, which was narrow in some places, wide in others, as it curved round onto a circular landing with a large carved cupboard. Two more corridors led off this, and also a spiral staircase going downstairs.
‘Isn’t it fantastic,’ she whispered, staring wide-eyed at it all. ‘And have you noticed the smell, Ralick? Sweet and warm and honeyish. Let’s go down.’
The wooden stairs creaked and groaned noisily under her.
‘What a racket,’ growled Ralick.
Copper didn’t say anything for a moment, then she said shyly: ‘Yes, but you know, I think they’re sort of talking to me.’
‘Hah! As stairs have a habit of doing!’ said Ralick.
‘But really, they are,’ she insisted. ‘I’m sure, and the hand rail too. They’re sort of speaking – not words exactly, just voices. I’ve never touched a hand rail like this before, it’s soft under my fingers, not soft like cotton wool but not solid … It moves. And it smells so gorgeous …’
Copper felt more and more excited as she descended the stairs. Everything seemed to her to be so absolutely right. I’ve missed it, she thought. Then thought, but how could I? How could I miss something I’ve never seen?
At the bottom of the stairs Copper paused and looked around. Which way? One door had a picture of a chair carved into it, another door was covered in carved flowers and bushes and on a third there were books.
‘Clues,’ she whispered to Ralick. ‘Sitting room, garden and library. Ah ha! And that one,’ she pointed to a door beyond the stairs with fruit, vegetables, cakes and bread carved into it, ‘that’s food, so that’s the kitchen, I bet. Good, I’m still starving.’
She went to the door, and was just about to go in, when she paused, hearing voices talking in hushed tones. She went closer and listened.
‘You wouldn’t listen to a private conversation, would you?’ gasped Ralick.
‘No, well, but …’
‘Grr,’ suddenly a low, deep, rumbling growl erupted beside her and she stopped.
‘Ralick? Was that you?’
Then something furry pressed against her leg, and glancing down, she saw the vast grey-haired dog from the night before, Silver.
7
Robin and Oriole
Copper jumped guiltily.
‘Of course I wouldn’t eavesdrop,’ she snapped guiltily, and quickly grasping the door handle, she went in.
‘Hello!’ cried Questrid.
‘What the …!’ gasped Copper, gazing around in amazement. ‘Birds!’
They were perched on the dresser, on the backs of chairs and along the clothes-drier hanging from the ceiling. They ruffled their feathers, cooed and trilled, and filled the air with the fluttering and shuffling of wings.
‘Come in, dear, come in,’ called Oriole. ‘Did you sleep well? All this must be so strange for you.’
Oriole looked just like the little wooden doll that Copper had once had, with painted brown hair and a tiny wooden chip nose. She had the same smooth, round face and red cheeks. She wore her long hair plaited down her back and an old-fashioned dress with a long skirt and large white apron. Her dark, soft eyes were just like the thrush’s.
‘It isn’t strange,’ said Copper, grinning. ‘It feels very unstrange and exciting.’
‘Good. Good. This is my husband, Robin,’ said Oriole.
Copper shook hands with Robin who had a very round tummy, rosy cheeks and a pony tail.
‘I hope you like birds?’ he asked with a twinkle.
‘Yes.’
‘Good, we’ve twenty-three at the moment,’ said Robin. ‘A few more outside. They’re all very tame and will help you if you need it.’
‘What about the dog, is she tame?’ asked Copper, pointing at Silver who seemed glued to her side.
‘Oh, Silver. She’s a big thing but very gentle. Yes, she’s tame.’
‘What sort of a dog is she?’
‘Silver?’ Oriole smiled vaguely. ‘Oh, some sort of cross-breed. She’s got all sorts in her, wolf-hound, lurcher … I suppose you’d call her a mountain dog.’
Robin led Copper over to the table.
‘Don’t be shy,’ he said. ‘Come on in and feel at home. This is where you belong.’ He lifted Copper’s hand and examined it closely. ‘Will you look at that?’ he said, admiringly. ‘A Beech’s hand if ever I saw one! Those fingers! Mind and you’ve that lovely copper hair too! You live up to your name, don’t you?’
Copper nodded.
Now she had a chance to look around the kitchen she saw it was a peculiar room, shaped like a slice of cake with the sharp end cut off. The wider curved wall had windows in it and the narrow end was where the door was. The room was painted yellow and white with a great many green pots and dishes on the shelves. It was warm and sunny, big and welcoming.
‘But you’re not my parents, are you?’ Copper surprised herself by saying suddenly.
Oriole and Robin shook their heads and smiled.
‘No, dear. We’re not Beeches. We’re Partridges, Oriole and Robin Partridge, from down the valley and we look after Spindle House for your uncle.’
‘My uncle!’ Copper squeaked. ‘Do you mean he was married to Aunt Ruby?’
Robin and Oriole exchanged a look. ‘No, dear, I don’t think so.’
‘Greenwood – that’s your uncle, he’ll explain when he gets back. Now, sit yourself down and have some more breakfast.’
Copper sat down, but she couldn’t help thinking that it was very rude of her uncle not to be there to greet her.
Oriole went on stirring the porridge, humming and singing a wordless song with many la la las and trills and peeping noises. It seemed to be exactly the same as the song the thrush had sung to Copper that morning.
Porridge was served in a wooden bowl but when Copper picked up the wooden spoon to eat, she shrieked and dropped it again. ‘It moved!’
‘Of course it did,’ said Robin, laughing. ‘You’re from the Wood clan all right.’
‘It was just settling into your hand, dear,’ explained Oriole, quietly, ‘so as to be comfortable and friendly. Didn’t you notice the chair moving under you too, and perhaps the bannister on the stairs?’
‘I did,’ said Copper. ‘I told Ral … I mean, yes, I did feel it move and sort of speak too.’
‘Just the wood being friendly. I expect it’s pleased to have you home too.’
Copper squeezed the spoon more firmly and felt it soften and mould itself into her palm until it was a perfect fit.
‘I love it.’
‘The house is an old spindle tree, you see. Spindle trees are usually quite small but this one grew to an immensely vast size,’ Robin explained. ‘That’s why the rooms are such funny shapes, and the lovely old tree lives on through all the wood in the house. Spindle wood is strong and supple, used for making spindles, of course, but not this one. But you’d know about all that, being a Beech.’
‘No, I wouldn’t,’ said Copper. ‘I’ve just been living with Aunt Ruby.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said Robin.
‘Never mind,’ said Oriole, coming over to the table with a bowl of porridge for herself. She put the dish on the table then carefully turned round three times before sitting on the chair. She saw Copper watching her and smiled.
‘It’s what Silver does,’ sh
e said, ‘and I expect she has a good reason for it, so I do too.’
Copper giggled.
‘Did your alarm clock go off this morning?’ asked Questrid.
‘The thrush? Yes,’ said Copper. ‘It was lovely.’
‘This is still a tree, you see, and we like to share it with the birds. They do all sorts in exchange.’
Copper looked puzzled.
‘Like messages,’ laughed Questrid. ‘Your Aunt Ruby sent us a bird to say you were coming.’
‘Aunt Ruby? But what about the telephone?’
‘Oh, we don’t have one of those. The phone lines don’t come up into the mountains. Besides, bird’o’gram is a wonderful system.’
Copper thought about the feather in her aunt’s bedroom. Of course, that explained it. It seemed there was a whole secret world about which Copper knew nothing.
‘Aunt Ruby was scared,’ she told them. ‘Two men were after me … I saw them at the station.’
Oriole and Robin looked serious. ‘Yes. She thought you’d be safer here, and … but … we can’t explain. It’s not our story to tell. Wait for your uncle to explain.’
She stopped abruptly and stood quite still, listening. Somewhere outside a bell was ringing loudly: Ding, ding, ding, ding! it repeated again and again, clear and alarming in the quiet morning. Copper looked at the others.
‘What is it?’
Then suddenly, Oriole and Robin and Questrid were on their feet and running for the door.
‘Fire!’ they cried. ‘Fire!’
8
The Rockers
Copper picked up Ralick, dragged on a big red coat, stuffed her feet into a pair of wool-lined boots she found by the door, and followed the others outside.
The air was cold and crisp and took her breath away.
‘Can I help?’ she asked, hurrying along after them.
‘No! Stay there!’ Questrid warned her and he said it so sharply that Copper sank down on the nearest seat, dejected.
‘That’s telling you,’ said Ralick.
She was at the back of the house in a cobbled courtyard. Across the yard were the two sledge horses puffing warm clouds of steam over the stable door and stamping their feet. The bell was ringing out the alarm in a small tower on the roof above them.
Copper walked round the yard and was surprised to see a large black-backed gull standing on the roof, tugging at the bell rope with its beak.
How clever. I wonder where the fire is?
Soon the others came in under the archway and Robin whistled a signal and the seagull stopped, called out to them, then flew away.
‘Is everything all right?’ Copper asked.
‘Yes, don’t worry,’ said Oriole going back into the house. ‘Come back into the warm. We’ve put out the fire. It was only tiny.’
‘You’ll have to tell her,’ said Questrid, as they trooped back into the kitchen.
‘Tell me what?’
‘About the Rockers,’ said Questrid.
‘Our neighbours up in the hills who are not very friendly,’ said Oriole, darting a warning look at Questrid. ‘The Rockers we call them. They shot these …’ She held out three arrows with blackened tips. ‘These were on fire when they shot them at the house and you can imagine, with a wooden house we have to be careful.’
‘But the birds are on guard all day,’ said Robin, gently lifting a sparrow off his chair. ‘And they plucked them out of the roof and dropped them into the snow.’
‘But why do these Rocker people do that? They must hate you.’
‘The Rockers live in the Rock, up in the mountains. And yes they do seem to hate the inhabitants of Spindle House and have done for years.’
‘Why?’
‘Now, now,’ Oriole interrupted, ‘that’s all over and done with, isn’t it? That’s just the past, that is. Questrid, are you going to take Copper to look round?’
‘Sure,’ said Questrid. ‘Come on, Copper. I’ll give you a guided tour.’
‘Oh, all right,’ said Copper. ‘But I would like to know.’
‘I hope it’s not too chilly. Be careful,’ Oriole added quietly.
They put their coats back on and went outside.
‘It’s freezing out here!’ cried Copper, stepping out into the cold.
Questrid grinned. ‘I’m used to it. There’s Thunder and Lightning,’ he said, indicating the two horses. ‘Aren’t they lovely? I live up above them. I’ve got my own room and I look after them.’
‘Don’t you want to live in the house?’
‘No, I like it with the animals best, and with me not being family and everything …’
‘I thought … isn’t Robin your father?’
Questrid laughed. ‘Of course not! He’s from down the valley.’
‘So?’ she said.
‘Well, I couldn’t be from down the valley. That’s all the Partridges and the Peacocks, the Parrots and Woodcocks. Bird clans. I don’t look like them, do I?’
Copper shook her head.
‘I don’t look like anyone really. Mind you, although you’ve got the Beech hands, you don’t look absolutely Beech.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know your uncle, don’t forget, and there are pictures, portraits. The Beeches are very tall, with red or golden hair and green eyes – yours are nearly black. And they have freckles – you don’t. They have long fingers and toes like you, though. They do fantastic things with wood – do you?’
Copper thought of her attempts at stone carving. Dreadful. Nothing had emerged except a blob … but she had never tried carving wood.
‘Come this way,’ said Questrid. ‘I want you to see Spindle House properly. The garden is all under snow and there’s a lake too, all iced over.’
The sky was palest blue with high, thin misty clouds. A weak sunshine made the crusty edges of snow glisten and sparkle. The snow crunched under their feet as if they were treading on eggshells. Copper breathed in the fresh air greedily.
‘I love it,’ she said. ‘I feel wonderful here.’
Questrid smiled. ‘Of course you do. It’s where you belong. Can’t cut a twig off a tree then stick it in cement and expect it to thrive, can you?’
Copper shook her head although she wasn’t sure she understood. Still it was good to be told she belonged, to even begin to feel as if she belonged.
They walked through an archway to the front of the house where the big double doors were. Over them, carved in great detail, was a large, long-tailed dragon.
‘That’s just like Aunt Ruby’s dragon,’ said Copper. ‘Did she live here? She told me she had a dragon when she was little. I can believe it now I’ve seen this place.’
Questrid smiled. ‘Was it very boring where you’ve been living?’
‘Very.’
The house really was a massive tree. It was brown and tree-shaped with very large thick branches in which small windows were arranged.
Copper ran down to the wall at the end of the garden to get a good look at it.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it!’ she cried. ‘It’s the weirdest house in the world but I think it’s great. Oh, look,’ she added. ‘Look up there.’
Right at the top, at the highest window, a magpie was fluttering, as if it was trying to get inside. It landed on the window-sill, tapped on the glass with its beak and when the window opened, it disappeared inside.
‘Did you see that?’ Copper squeaked.
‘What? I didn’t see anything,’ said Questrid.
‘Someone’s up there! Someone let the bird inside. They said Uncle Greenwood’s out. Who else lives here, Questrid?’
‘No one,’ said Questrid. ‘I didn’t see anything. There are birds all over this place.’
‘There must be someone up there,’ said Copper. ‘Someone opened the window.’
But Questrid wasn’t interested. He had his eye on Ralick.
‘I saw that funny-looking old teddy last night when you came,’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘How come yo
u take him everywhere?’
‘He’s not a teddy and he’s not funny-looking,’ snapped Copper, suddenly embarrassed. ‘He’s Ralick.’
‘Sorry,’ said Questrid, grinning. ‘Is there something wrong with his head? I mean, does he have to wear that hat-thing?’
‘Hat. Just a plain hat, not a hat-thing. I made it.’
‘Let’s have a look at him,’ said Questrid. He turned Ralick over and over in his hands and stared into his glass eyes.
‘I don’t know why, but I feel like I know this ted … Ralick,’ said Questrid looking confused and worried. ‘Could I have seen him somewhere, in a book or something? Is he famous?’
‘No,’ laughed Copper, taking Ralick back. ‘I bet he wishes he was, but he’s just Ralick.’
9
Wood and Stone
They walked right round Spindle House. At the back, the north side, the ground sloped steeply upwards towards the mountains. Dotted over the hill were clumps of dark trees and large bare rocks which stuck out sharply in the whiteness of the snow.
‘Look up there,’ said Questrid, ‘over to the right and you’ll see the Rock. That’s where the Rockers come from.’
Copper strained her eyes, peering into the distance. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘It is hard to see,’ said Questrid. ‘It’s really just a mass of tunnels and caves, built right on top of the mountain with windows at the front. The Rockers are completely isolated up there in their stone fort. If they do venture out, it’s only to do evil, like try and set Spindle House on fire … Copper, you’re shivering. I am sorry. Come up to my room where it’s warm.’
Copper grinned. ‘I’m not acclimatised yet.’
At the back of the stable, behind the horses there was a ladder leading up to a long attic room where Questrid slept. There were four tiny windows in the sloping roof and a stove in the corner. There was a wooden bed with a patchwork quilt, a carved chest of drawers and a chair. On a table were some peculiar chunks of wood which seemed to have been hacked at roughly. Copper picked one up.
‘What’s this?’
Questrid grinned. ‘Can’t you tell?’
Copper Page 3