The French Code

by Deborah Abela

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Linden stood at the door, already dressed, his wild hair almost combed into some kind of order.

  ‘Rats! A coffin! Me.’ Max stopped when Linden’s frown made her realise she wasn’t making any sense.

  ‘Sorry?’ Linden pushed his hair out of his face, only to have it fall back again.

  It took Max a few seconds to take in what had happened: what was the dream part and what was real. The crawling, swarming rats were certainly the dream. The dead rat sitting on her pillow, eyes open and staring at her, was real. A present from Fifi, she realised, when she saw the mutt at the foot of her bed, wearing what seemed to be a smile.

  ‘Why you …’

  Max wrenched herself out of her sheets and, with hands held out, headed for Fifi’s neck. Linden was quick to intercept, grabbing Max around the waist and lifting her from the ground.

  ‘Let me at her.’ Max gritted her teeth. ‘She’s been out to get me from the first black, miserable moment we met.’

  Max kicked and wriggled in Linden’s arms.

  ‘I’m not going to put you down unless you promise not to strangle Fifi.’ Linden gasped.

  ‘Oh, isn’t that cute. Fifi has brought you a present.’ Veronique appeared behind them. Her hair neatly pulled back, she was wearing jeans and a shirt that sparkled with what Max thought may have been diamonds around the edge of her collar. And she was wearing make-up. She opened her arms and Fifi leapt into them. ‘And you two are playing some kind of wrestling game. How very … boyish.’

  Linden whispered in Max’s ear, ‘Do you promise not to attack?’

  ‘Which one? Her or the animal?’ Max whispered back.

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Okay,’ Max offered reluctantly. ‘But only for now.’

  When Linden let her go, Max tried to straighten her hair and clothes but knew that next to the designer look of Veronique, she resembled a rumpled sack of old rags.

  ‘See you downstairs.’ Veronique spun on her low-heeled boots and left.

  Linden looked at Max. ‘Do you want me to do something with that rat?’

  ‘Would it involve putting it near Veronique?’

  ‘No.’ Linden smiled.

  ‘You’re no fun.’

  Linden pulled a hanky from his pocket and wrapped the rodent inside. ‘Breakfast is ready,’ he said before leaving.

  Max looked around at her room and caught sight of herself in the mirror of a marble-topped dresser. She stopped. Veronique was all chic and in control; Max was a walking cyclone. She sighed and turned away.

  As she approached the breakfast room, the belly laughs from the others floated out in great waves.

  ‘Sharing your bed with rats now, Max?’ Toby couldn’t hold back another laugh. Fifi sat beside him and seemed to join in the hilarity, panting happily over a small steak. ‘It’s great how you and Fifi are bonding.’

  Max moved away from the smiling pooch and sat next to Linden. ‘Don’t you have anything more interesting to say?’

  ‘I do, actually.’ Toby smiled smugly, waiting to be asked for more.

  ‘Well?’ Max threw her open hands into the air.

  ‘Last night I did a little research into ancient Egyptian amulets. They were often obtained by people known as “protection makers”, and Taweret is one of the big ones for offering protection. The other interesting fact is that a lot of amulets were made with a hidden cavity so that a protective spell could be inserted.’

  ‘And you think there might be one in here?’ Veronique took off the amulet. ‘Where?’

  ‘Look for something unusual or out-of-place in the design. A bump or stopper maybe.’

  Veronique looked over the amulet and saw a rounded blocked hole under the feet. She took a clip from her hair and dug out a small wooden stopper. She shook the amulet and a rolled note fell to the table.

  ‘And there it is,’ Toby said with satisfaction.

  Veronique read the note:

  A nod of a head

  And ‘Cast out’ in a cry

  Will chaos banish

  With Taweret held high

  ‘What does it mean?’ Veronique asked.

  ‘Not sure yet,’ Toby answered. ‘But I think it’d be a good idea to keep that amulet close.’

  ‘And even more important to stick close to us. We’ve got the skills and equipment to keep you safe.’ Max tried to keep the conversation in the land of the not-kooky. ‘And we should use today to find out more about Strangways. The more I think about it, the more I …’

  ‘We’ve already decided what we’re doing today.’ Veronique slipped the amulet back around her neck and beneath her shirt. ‘Regi has gone to his board meeting and left me a note to say we are to concentrate on forgetting about what has happened and leave the crime solving to the professionals.’

  ‘We are professionals,’ Max spluttered.

  ‘Maybe,’ Veronique replied, ‘but you are also my minders and are to do as I say.’ She stood up from the table. ‘And I say we’re going horse riding.’

  ‘Horse riding?’ Max’s face lost some of its colour.

  ‘Yes, and you are going to stop picking on Regi.’

  ‘I’m not picking on him, I just think –’

  ‘Regi has opened his estate to us, and we’re perfectly safe as long as we stay within its boundaries.’

  Veronique took an apple from an overflowing fruit bowl and munched into it. ‘Unless, of course, you can’t ride horses.’

  ‘I can ride horses.’ Max spread a generous slathering of jam across some toast. ‘It’s one of my favourite sports, actually.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Veronique called over her shoulder. ‘François?’

  The grim housemaster appeared beside Veronique in seconds. ‘We would like to go riding. Please have the horses prepared.’

  François nodded and withdrew from the room as silently as he had entered.

  ‘We better get ready.’ Veronique walked to a gold-framed mirror and reapplied her lip colour. She gave herself one last satisfied look before walking out of the room as if she was about to meet the queen.

  Max held her jam toast before her. ‘Can anyone tell me why she has to get so dressed up to go horse riding?’

  ‘She looks good.’ Toby threw the last of his brioche into his mouth and stood up. ‘You could take a few lessons from her.’

  ‘I’m on a spy mission, not in a fashion contest.’ Max went to take a last bite of her toast when a large glob of jam slipped off the buttery bread and slid down her T-shirt in a red drizzle.

  ‘Just as well.’ Toby chuckled and walked out.

  Linden handed her a serviette. ‘I think it adds something.’

  Max glared at the jam slithering down her shirt. ‘Like a big sign saying, “How clumsy am I?”’

  A vehicle pulled up outside and beeped.

  ‘And, of course, there’s no time to change.’ Max took Linden’s serviette and wiped the goo off, leaving a giant smudge slathered across her chest.

  Max frowned. ‘You’re from the country, do you have any tips for this horseriding thing?’

  ‘Don’t let the horse know you’re afraid. Be confident, but not cocky. Horses are very intelligent.’

  Max kept frowning.

  ‘And have fun.’ Linden nudged her lightly in the shoulder. ‘You’ll see. Once you get a feel for riding, it’s hard to stop.’

  ‘As long as when I do stop, I’m still alive.’

  Linden laughed. ‘Come on. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.’

  Max felt her face well up into a ridiculous jam-coloured blush. The horn beeped again. ‘Her ladyship is waiting,’ she turned away, ‘and we can’t have that.’

  In the castle courtyard, François held open the double doors at the back of a small passenger truck as Max and Linden stepped outside.

  ‘There you are.’ Veronique pulled on a pair of riding gloves. ‘I thought you’d changed your mind.’

  ‘I wouldn’t miss a chance to ride,’ M
ax said.

  ‘Really?’ Veronique let Max’s statement linger in the air before turning to François. ‘To the stables.’

  She climbed in and settled onto a side bench seat with Fifi nestled beside her, leaving barely enough room for Max to squeeze in. François closed the doors, double-checking that they were firmly shut. He hoisted himself into the driver’s cabin and wrenched the gears. The truck lurched into action, skidding over the pebbled path of the chateau, out the castle gate and over the roughly planked drawbridge before turning sharply into a canopied forest path.

  ‘Is François the only one who works here?’ Max asked.

  ‘Regi has a few stable hands and a driver, but he is a very private man. When it comes to the chateau, it is only he and François.’

  ‘He seems a little frail to be riding horses,’ Max said.

  ‘Riding was a great passion of his when he was younger and fitter. Now he just visits and talks with them. As a horserider yourself,’ she offered Max a sugary look, ‘you’ll know how adorable they can be.’

  ‘Of course I do,’ Max answered. ‘Completely adorable.’

  Veronique stared at Max. ‘Once you get attached to horses, it’s hard to let them go.’

  After several bumps over potholes that saw Max’s head collide with the hard metal of the jeep’s roof, they came to the stable complex. In the main yard, four stable hands stood at attention, ready with the horses.

  Veronique stepped out of the truck and ran to a chestnut-coloured horse with a bright red leather saddle and golden stirrups.

  ‘Hero.’ She nuzzled into his nose. ‘You get even more beautiful each time I see you.’

  Linden stood beside Max. ‘What do you think?’

  Max swallowed. ‘They’re big, aren’t they?’

  Veronique placed her foot in the stirrup and sprang into the saddle as easily as if she was climbing into bed.

  ‘Hey, fella.’ Toby stepped up to his horse and mounted just as easily.

  ‘Of course he knows how to do it,’ Max mumbled.

  ‘You don’t have to do this,’ Linden said.

  ‘No. I want to.’ Max straightened out her jam-smeared shirt.

  ‘They’re very well trained, Max,’ Veronique said. ‘There’s nothing to be scared of.’

  ‘I’m not scared. I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘Great. Take Siren.’ Veronique pointed to a smaller horse. ‘She has a beautiful nature and will be perfect for you.’

  Max steadily approached Siren and took hold of the reins. The horse whinnied and twitched. A damp, sewery smell rose up from behind the horse and slammed Max in the nose. ‘Easy there, fella.’

  ‘Ooops.’ Veronique feigned a pitying look.

  Max looked down to see her foot splattered by a steaming pile of horse manure. ‘Great,’ she mumbled before whispering to her horse. ‘I feel the same way, so let’s make this as painless as possible. Deal?’

  Siren snorted salivary spray all over Max’s hands. ‘Thanks.’ She winced.

  Max was helped into her saddle by a short, muscly stable hand, and after a few near misses where she almost tumbled off the other side, she was on.

  Then she looked down.

  ‘Oh.’ Her head felt light. ‘It’s a long way from the ground.’

  A few final checks were made to Max’s horse before he was walked beside Veronique. The two horses exchanged grunts and snorts, with Hero stamping the ground.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Max asked.

  ‘Just a little healthy rivalry,’ Veronique smiled.

  Linden gave Max a wink and vaulted himself into his saddle.

  ‘Fifi, you keep up,’ Veronique instructed. ‘Ha!’

  Hero and Siren charged at Veronique’s cry, leaving the boys behind for the stable hands to make final adjustments to their saddles.

  The two horses galloped to the rear of the stable buildings and into open country. Max clutched her reins, her scream drowned out by the thunder of hooves.

  The hills were lush and green, falling around them in huge waves, which was possibly why Max started to feel seasick.

  ‘Whoah!’

  She flattened herself against Siren, who tore after Hero like they were in a derby. Max shut her eyes and clutched the reins, holding them close to her chest as she bounded up and down on what felt like an out-of-control bull at a rodeo.

  She half-opened one eye and saw Veronique and Hero leap over a hedge and disappear down a narrow forest path.

  ‘Oh no,’ Max whined and shut her eyes again. In seconds she was airborne. ‘Aaaah! I’m going to die!’

  Her horse hit the ground with a body-shaking thud, followed by the whoosh of fluttering leaves and closely passing tree limbs.

  Veronique’s horse made another leap into the air, sailing over the still, dark waters of a small pond.

  Siren, however, had other ideas.

  His hooves dug in for an abrupt stop, just short of the pond’s edge, where he reared up on his hind legs.

  ‘Aaaah!’ Max tried to hold on, but her hands slipped along the reins and gave way.

  Veronique heard the splash and swung Hero around to see a soggy and mud-blotched Max sitting in the rippling waters of the pond. She cantered over and dismounted. Her shoulders heaved and her hand flung to her mouth to try and stop the onset of giggles.

  ‘Siren is normally so good with water.’ Veronique couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer.

  Max glared at Veronique as Siren blasted a horsey sneeze all over her. ‘Maybe you could find something more useful to do than stand there and laugh?’

  ‘Oh, so you’re not enjoying the chance to wash off the horse manure and jam?’ Veronique blustered into an even louder giggle.

  ‘Don’t you get bored acting so superior all the time?’ Max scraped mud from her arms.

  ‘I thought it’d help us bond, since that’s what you do.’

  Max slurped herself up from the pond’s muddy bottom. ‘I don’t act superior.’

  ‘Oh no?’ Veronique swung her shoulders back and forth. ‘Look at me, I’m a world-famous superspy.’

  ‘Making sure nothing happens to you,’ Max reminded her.

  Veronique crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. ‘While being grumpy and angry all the time.’

  ‘You’re a snob.’ Max crossed her arms.

  ‘You’re bossy.’

  ‘Oh no, you’re the expert in that.’ Max squelched up the slippery bank. ‘François! To the stables!’ she mimicked.

  ‘You don’t know anything about me,’ said Veronique.

  ‘I know you’re spoilt, arrogant and vain.’

  ‘And you’re a slob who is always covered in some sort of slime.’

  ‘At least I’m not obsessed with how I look twenty-four hours a day.’ Max swiped off a glob of mud, which accidentally sprayed Veronique’s jeans.

  Veronique’s mouth flung open in disbelief. ‘Do you have any idea how much these jeans cost?’

  ‘If it’s anything like your ego, it’s bound to be over-inflated.’

  Veronique’s jaw closed and hardened. ‘Why you …’ She scooped up a handful of mud and threw it at Max for a perfect T-shirt bullseye.

  Max’s eyes widened into two white rings, pulsing from her mud-flecked face. ‘I can’t believe you did that? What are you, five years old?’

  ‘No, I’m just sick of your attitude.’

  ‘Maybe I’m sick of yours.’ Max returned the favour with a mud-slinging throw, which caught Veronique squarely on the shoulder.

  ‘That’s it!’ Veronique leapt at Max and pushed her backwards into the pond.

  The two rolled over in the belching, sucking mud pit. Their hands grasped at collars and sleeves and smeared brown slime over each other. Veronique fumbled her way to her knees, swiped her hand through the sloppy earth and, just as she was about to sling it all over Max, she slipped and fell headfirst into the stewed mess.

  ‘Ha!’ Max scrambled unsteadily to her feet. ‘Now who’s the slob
?’

  She teetered forwards and backwards, laughing in great gasps until her feet slipped out from beneath her and she spun into the air, landing in a muddied whoopee-cushioned splat.

  Veronique sat up and giggled. ‘I guess we both are.’

  Max frowned before looking down at her wet, chocolate-coloured body. ‘I guess we are.’ She tried to fight it, but a smile tickled the edges of her lips before rising into a laugh.

  Veronique scraped a splodge of muck from her face. ‘You look ridiculous,’ she said.

  ‘So do you.’

  There was a brief pause before their loud shrieks lifted into the air.

  Fifi ran out from the forest, panting and barking. ‘It’s okay, Fifi. Max and I have just had a little … fall.’ She bent forward and giggled.

  ‘And that dog is a crazed ball of psycho fluff.’ Max laughed even more.

  ‘She only acts like that with people she doesn’t like.’ Veronique tried to breathe through huge gulping laughs.

  Fifi tilted her head to the side and whined.

  From the thickened tangle of trees behind the girls, Toby and Linden galloped into view.

  ‘What happened?’ Linden jumped off his horse and threw the reins to Toby. ‘Are you two okay?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Max swiped another glob of sodden earth from her face. ‘Just. And it’s about time you two showed up. She almost killed me.’

  Max and Veronique turned to each other and lost it, falling over their sludgy bodies, gasping and trawling for breath, chuckling even harder.

  Linden frowned and turned to Toby, who just shrugged.

  Max dragged herself to her feet. ‘Miss Fashion here called me bossy, and we were just discussing whether that was entirely correct.’ Max held her hand out and helped Veronique upright.

  ‘And Miss Bossy here won’t admit she is.’

  Max looked to Linden and Toby. ‘I think you’ll find that these two will tell you that’s not true.’

  Linden said nothing while Toby began concentrating on patting the horses.

  Max’s mirth dissolved. ‘Won’t they?’

  There was another long pause.

  ‘Well, you see …’ Linden stopped. ‘What was that?’