Hugo and the Bird

by Jeff Mills

  Stephanie, overhearing the conversation, jumped up and ran to her bedroom. When she came back she handed Bird a half-full bottle of pink medicine.

  “This is what the doctor gave me for my spots.” She grinned as she handed over the bottle. “Get them to rub it on the spots and it will help to sooth the irritation.”

  With a nod of thanks, Bird placed the medication under his wing and disappeared.

  Ten minutes later he and Chipper, who had returned to the goblin camp when Bird had not arrived back at the reserve, were busy mixing and administering the medicine to each of the goblins who were left alive, of which the number was decreasing minute by minute.

  Chapter 45

  The Accident

  “Oh hello, Mr Bennett. This is John Blackmore from Harding and Jasper. We managed to contact the other beneficiary in Australia that I told you about, and everything was proceeding as it was supposed to but unfortunately we have just been informed that he has been killed in a very unfortunate accident. We do not know the details, but it appears that he became entangled in some ropes while working on a roof and he fell off and hanged himself. This will, therefore, make you sole beneficiary, as he also had no heirs or left a will.

  Would it be convenient for you if I come around tomorrow and we can get most of the papers signed? There may be a delay in signing the actual deeds for the land in Bideford where the late Sir Richard Benson was killed, as this has to be sent to the Land Registry, which may take a little longer.”

  Hugo’s father put the phone down after making all the right ‘thank you’s’ and ‘look forward to seeing you’s’. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat in the kitchen and explained to his family and Emma about the deceased relative, making him and Hugo the last of the male line.

  He decided to omit telling them about the fact that the relation had been killed by hanging, as he thought that this might upset and frighten the children even more.

  “What about me?” Stephanie blurted out. “I’m a descendant as much as you. I don’t want to die!” she screamed and hid her face in her hands.

  “No one’s going to die,” Mr Bennett said comfortingly, but the look he gave to his wife wasn’t convincing.

  At that moment the front doorbell rang. The two grownups looked at each other, wondering who it could be, as they weren’t expecting anyone. Mr Bennett got up and went to answer the ring. There was a great deal of mumbling at the door and then he popped his head round the kitchen door and asked his wife to come. His face had lost its colour. The children heard them go into the lounge and then suddenly there was a small scream.

  “Oh no, that can’t be true. There must be a mistake.” Mrs Bennett could be heard crying.

  The children could not hear what was being said over Mrs Bennett’s sobbing and the occasional snuffle from Mr Bennett.

  * * *

  After about half an hour, the front door was heard to close. Both parents came into the kitchen, very red eyed. Mr Bennett walked over to Emma and sat down beside her.

  “Emma, I am extremely sorry to have to tell you this but… your mother and father have been involved in an accident on the way home and,” he hesitated and swallowed, “and I am very sorry but… their injuries were so severe that they did not survive.”

  There was a stunned silence and everyone’s face went pale.

  Suddenly Emma screamed and the other two children burst into tears. The adults put their arms around Emma and hugged her as tightly as they could.

  It was over an hour before any of them had stopped crying. Mr Bennett got up and rang his doctor friend. “I’m sorry to call you twice in one night but…,” he went on to explain the situation.

  “I’ll be round immediately,” Peter said.

  Ten minutes later there was a ring at the doorbell, which made everybody jump. Mr Bennett raised himself from the couch and answered the door. Moments later he and his doctor friend came into the kitchen.

  After asking Emma a few medical questions, he gave her some tablets and then, as an afterthought, gave each of the other children a smaller one too.

  “That should sedate them for tonight,” he explained. “I’ll call in first thing in the morning to check on everything. In the meantime, I suggest that you all go to bed.”

  Hugo’s father escorted his friend to the front door and could be heard talking to him for a good fifteen minutes. Eventually the door slammed shut and a car drove off.

  By the time Mr Bennett re-entered the kitchen, only his wife was left there. She ran to him and hugged him, bursting into tears again. Mr Bennett started crying too. Holding his wife’s hand, he led her up the stairs, opened the doors, checking each room and the sleeping but restless children and then went into their own room but it was into the early hours of the morning before either of them slept.

  Chapter 46

  Tracks

  The dog handler and the forensic team were already at the cliff site when the police car drew up with a spray of stones as it braked on the rough track. The two officers eased themselves out of the car and the sergeant put on his hat.

  “D.I.Hyde,” the inspector said to the dog team, showing his warrant card. He shouted a casual ‘Hello’ to the forensic officers and walked over towards them.

  “If you ask me, this is a bit of a wild goose chase,” he mumbled to himself but loud enough for those around to hear, then turning he shouted, “Let the dogs loose and see if they can pick up anything!”

  The two dogs, one a German Shepherd and the other a black Labrador, jumped and barked, eager to do their work. The inspector watched as the animals ran up and down the track, noses to the ground. The sergeant looked up as he felt a drop of rain fall on his hat.

  “They’ll have to get a move on, sir. I think we’re in for a bit of a storm.”

  Almost on cue, it started to rain. Both officers turned and started to walk back to their car when the Labrador barked and his handler called out,

  “I think that you had better come and see this, sir,” and pointed to something on the ground.

  The policemen walked briskly over, pulling their collars up at the falling shower. The dog handler was on his knees and pushing away some pieces of grass.

  “Look, sir. These are the same animal marks that were at that trouble at that gnome place.”

  “Hey Mike! What do you make of these?” the inspector called to one of the forensic officers who jogged up, panting a little. The policemen were now down on their knees looking at the strange paw prints in the mud.

  “And look, sir.” One of the constables was pointing at an area a few feet away. “These look like trainer tracks. Wasn’t that missing girl supposed to be wearing trainers?”

  Everyone looked his way. The forensic team took photos of each of the tracks and made frames around them so that they could make plaster moulds to see if they matched those they had taken previously.

  The rain was now coming down thick and fast and it was obvious that the tracks were being washed away but nevertheless the officers tried to do what they could.

  Looking up, one of the forensic team shouted to a constable standing next to their van, “Quick! Get a cover over this lot, or else we’re going to lose everything.”

  The policeman opened the van’s rear doors and dragged out a long package, which he rushed down to where the forensic team were still kneeling. They stopped their work and, within a minute, a folding, gazebo-type tent had been erected over the area where they had been working.

  * * *

  “Anything else?” the sergeant shouted to the dog team, who had gone about their business while the other people were engaged in theirs. The dog handler shook his head and, with a final look into the sky and the heavily falling rain, the inspector admitted defeat and ordered everyone back to their cars.

  “We can’t do much else here now but I think we’ll call the coastguard an
d get them to make a search of the area below those cliffs. If that young reporter girl was here, then I suppose it is possible that she might have gone over, especially if there was a big cat-like thing after her, like that witness said.”

  The sergeant clicked on his radio and did as the inspector had suggested. Wiping the rain from his face with a tissue from under the dashboard, he started the car and drove them both back to the station.

  The inspector was moaning on about, “more wretched paperwork” as they drove but then both fell silent, mentally praying that the coastguard didn’t find someone at the bottom of the cliff on the one hand, yet hoping that they did with the other, as it meant that they could close the case.

  * * *

  Morgana looked out from the fold in the cliff where she had been observing the goings-on. Her wet hair dangled in front of her eyes but she smiled as, for the first time, she had been able to leave her hiding places in daylight, ever since...well, ever since. She did not want those memories to come back.

  Chapter 47

  The Accident

  Bird was exhausted as he emerged back at the reserve. He went up to the house and told the owner what had happened to the goblins.

  “Serves ’em right,” butted in the gardener, who was standing by the door scraping the mud off his boots. “Look what they’ve done to my garden and those poor souls out there.”

  He started to come into the office but the owner looked at him and shouted, “Don’t you dare come in here with those boots! They’re still covered in mud.”

  The gardener reddened, sheepishly turned and sat down on the step. After undoing the laces, one of which had become knotted, he pulled off his boots. A large hole was in the toe of one sock which he ignored. Pushing the muddy boots to one side, he came in and made for the kitchen.

  “Anyone for a cuppa?” he asked.

  Bird turned and said, “I’d like a cake or a biscuit if there is one.”

  The gardener almost tripped over himself. Although he had seen Bird and had got used to him, he had never heard him talk and was surprised when he did. Regaining his footing and his composure the gardener whimpered,

  “Right then. I’ll see what I can do,” and he disappeared down the corridor.

  “I wish there was something more we could do,” the owner sighed and gazed out of the window. It had begun to rain. “I must open the garage doors.” She wheezed as she eased herself out of her chair. “Some of my family still don’t have roofs on their houses and they need some shelter.” With effort, she pulled on her wellingtons and shuffled out into the garden.

  Bird sat on his haunches, sighed and shook his feathers. Chipper came in, still looking spritely, as if it were a game, and he sat on the floor next to his friend. There was a shuffling at the door and the gardener reappeared with a large plate of cupcakes, decorated with pink and blue icing, balanced on top of a large wooden tray with three mugs of steaming tea.

  “It’ll get cold if she don’t hurry up,” he muttered and placed the plate and one mug of tea down on the table. He took a noisy slurp from his mug and, taking it with him, left with a grunt, muttering something about digging graves. He stopped at the doorway, and slipped on his still-muddy boots but without bothering to tie up the laces.

  Bird and Chipper watched him go and then started to tuck into the cakes, though, it must be said, that Chipper had only finished a quarter of his by the time Bird had cleared the plate.

  Suddenly there was an almighty crash and the sound of breaking china as the gardener tripped over one of his boot laces and went head over heels down the path, narrowly missing the windmill, which seemed to be the only undamaged building left in the reserve.

  Bird and Chipper smiled as the gardener and the owner reappeared at the office doorway, the gardener with one boot missing and blood, mixed with mud, all over his hands.

  “I think that it’s a good time to leave,” Bird whispered to his small companion and, after thanking both the owner and the gardener for the refreshments, they left and went back to St Austell to see what was happening there.

  The sight that greeted the pair surprised them both, for the whole encampment was silent and nothing stirred. Bird was concerned but then realised that it was daylight and goblins do not like sunlight, and so he ventured up to the hole in the tree that he had seen Bragnar disappear into. It was empty.

  Bird went to another crack in a log but there was no sign of anyone.

  Bird and Chipper raced around looking everywhere, in every nook, crevice and hole that they could find. Other than a few pieces of grey-looking cloth, which was expertly woven from what appeared to be spiders’ webs, and a few collections of nuts and berries, the whole area was deserted.

  “Where is everyone?” Chipper chirped. “Have they all died?”

  “I don’t think so,” Bird answered, but even he did not sound too sure. After a final look around, he beckoned his small companion to hold onto his leg and they disappeared back to the reserve and the clearing-up operation that was in full swing.

  Approaching the dark area where the injured goblins were being cared for, he explained to those lying there what he had found. They each looked shocked that they had been deserted, but no one admitted to where the others had gone. Bird even asked if they had gone back to Morgana but they looked horrified at the suggestion. They explained that they had been forced by the witch to attack the gnomes and it wasn’t their fault but Bird was not convinced.

  Seeing that the gnomes were busy rebuilding their village, Bird thought that he would visit Hugo but since it was getting quite late he decided to leave it till the next day.

  * * *

  There was no point being secretive any more, as Hugo’s parents and sister were aware of his existence and so it was with confidence that, the following morning, he appeared through the wall of the kitchen.

  * * *

  He was surprised that the curtains were drawn closed and the whole house was silent. There were some made-up sandwiches on the table and, looking around to see if anyone was watching, he picked one up in his beak and swallowed it.

  Seeing that he was unobserved, he took another and another until only one was left. He belched, and called out to see if anyone was about. Going back to the table, he shrugged and finished off the last sandwich. He was about to leave when he saw a newspaper next to the empty plate and the headlines made him stop.

  “Local couple killed in tragic accident on link road!” It wasn’t the headline that drew his attention but the picture that accompanied it. Directly below, was a picture of two smiling adults and between them was a young girl. Bird looked again at the photo. “That’s Emma!” He looked again, flattening the newspaper out and read:

  “A tragic, fatal accident occurred on the evening of September the 6th, on the three-lane section of the North Devon Link Road, the A361 near the Rackenford junction. There was thick fog at the time and it is thought that the victims’ car, a red Renault Clio, had been in collision, head on, with another vehicle, a blue Ford Mondeo, as it swerved to avoid a deer that had run onto the carriage way. The driver of the Mondeo received only minor injuries and is being treated in the North Devon Hospital but the Renault collided with a bridge and somersaulted several times before coming to a rest. The occupants of the Renault, a Mr and Mrs Peter Jones of Westward Ho! in North Devon, were air-lifted to North Devon District Hospital in Barnstaple but were pronounced dead on arrival. They leave a nine-year-old daughter, who was not in the car at the time. Police are appealing for witnesses. If you have any information, please...”

  Bird did not read any more. He sat on his haunches and looked at the empty plate feeling very ashamed of himself. Poor Emma. He felt a tear begin to form but dismissed it and set about trying to make more sandwiches to replace those he had eaten.

  Searching through the cupboards, he found some sliced bread. There was no way he could use a knife
to cut a loaf with his wings and spreading butter was also a no-go, so he just layered what he could find between plain slices and hoped that no one would notice. Just to be sure he tried the top one. It certainly seemed to lack something but it wasn’t bad.

  He wondered if he should wait and walked up and down the kitchen. At one end, lying on a shelf full of cookery books and CDs, he saw a small pamphlet with the picture that he had seen in the newspaper on the front cover. He went over to it and saw that it was an order of service for the funeral of Emma’s parents. He looked at the picture, the happy family, smiling, none realising what the future held. Tears welled up in Bird’s eyes and he had to sit down. The leaflet announced that the funeral would be held at Barnstaple crematorium and would be followed by a reception at the Imperial Hotel also in Barnstaple starting at 10.00am.

  Bird looked at the clock on the wall and realised that it was probably under way. He really would have liked to have gone but his presence would certainly cause a major disruption and so he decided that he would wait until a more appropriate opportunity and give time for some emotional healing to take place for everybody.

  Wiping the tears from his eyes with his wing, he faced the wall and disappeared back to the reserve. At least, there, he could be of some use and help those gnomes who also have recently been bereaved through no fault of their own.

  Chapter 48

  The Building Site

  Going back to school had certainly helped to take Hugo’s and Stephanie’s minds off recent events, though the sorrow was always there and both found it difficult to concentrate on their work or their friends.

  Emma had not returned with them but was staying with the Bennetts as she had no immediate relatives other than an aunt who lived in New Zealand and, in so many words, had indicated that she did not want Emma to come and live with her. Social services had suggested putting her into a children’s home but both the Bennett parents, Hugo and Stephanie had asked if she could stay with them, at least until a permanent solution was found.