The Monsters of Rookhaven

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The Monsters of Rookhaven Page 20

by Padraig Kenny


  The seeds were huge and to Jem they looked like veined and overgrown apple pips. They were so large they had to be held with two hands. The air took on a metallic tang, and the hairs on Jem’s forearms stood on end. Odd appeared beside her, clutching half a dozen more seeds to his chest. He was panting slightly. Jem was delighted to see him back on his feet. He’d made a quick recovery and, in the week since Mirabelle had defeated the Malice, Odd had come on in leaps and bounds and was back to his old wandering ways.

  He handed Jem two seeds. ‘These ones are just about to pop, so I would suggest planting them quite soon.’

  By ‘quite soon’ Jem knew Odd meant ‘right now’.

  Odd doled out the seeds, then stood with his hands behind his back, surveying everything, rocking back and forth on his heels.

  ‘You could help, Odd,’ said Mirabelle on her knees, shovelling soil aside.

  Odd gave the subtlest shake of his head, as if he’d barely heard her. ‘I source things, Mirabelle. That is my unenviable task.’

  Jem frowned at him. He looked pensive, as if his mind wasn’t really present. She tilted her head and looked at him. It took him a while to notice, and he just gave her a quick nod, then he went back to rocking back and forth on his heels, occasionally saying something like, ‘That pod is going to be trouble – I can tell.’

  Jem reasoned that he was probably worrying about the meeting between Enoch, Eliza and the council. They were discussing what Enoch had called a ‘new Covenant’. Jem had no idea what that entailed, but Mirabelle seemed optimistic about it and told her there was nothing to worry about thanks mainly to Piglet. Because of Piglet everyone understood each other now, she said. There were no barriers, no lies, no pretences, no hatreds. Meanwhile, Piglet was safely back in his room, presumably content because his ration of meat had been almost doubled. It was being sourced mainly by Odd, who was now also providing some supplies to the village.

  ‘Where do you get them?’ asked Tom.

  Odd’s mind still seemed to be elsewhere, but he managed to answer. ‘I can’t tell you that. If I told you that, your mind would be overthrown, you would go mad, the world would seem to you to be nothing but—’

  ‘Odd,’ said Mirabelle sharply.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Stop talking.’

  Odd nodded, looking so serious that Jem almost laughed.

  There was a caw from a tree branch overhead where the one-eyed raven looked down from his perch. He always seemed to be with Mirabelle now.

  ‘You see,’ said Mirabelle. ‘Lucius agrees with me.’

  Everyone laughed, except Odd, who just frowned at the raven. Mirabelle had christened him Lucius after a Roman general. Odd didn’t like it, but Jem thought it seemed to suit the raven with his haughty bearing.

  The back door opened, and Freddie came out towards them.

  ‘They’re finished,’ he said.

  ‘What did they decide?’ asked Mirabelle, straightening up and brushing soil off her dress.

  ‘To continue as before,’ he said, ‘but that there should be greater trust, and that your family are permitted to visit the village any time.’

  ‘Really?’ said Odd.

  ‘Yes,’ said Freddie.

  Odd thought about this for a moment. ‘Why would anyone want to go to the village?’

  Mirabelle punched him on the arm. ‘Odd!’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude.’

  Enoch, Dr Ellenby and Mr Teasdale approached from the house.

  ‘How goes the planting?’ asked Enoch.

  ‘I’ve only been bitten once,’ said Tom, holding up a hand with a purple bruise on it.

  ‘Well, so long as you don’t get eaten,’ said Enoch.

  ‘Was that a joke, Uncle?’ asked Mirabelle.

  Enoch didn’t seem to know how to answer.

  Odd shook his head in amazement. ‘Remarkable how things change. I think you’re growing as a person, Uncle. I applaud the new you.’

  Dr Ellenby chuckled to himself, and Enoch looked at him and narrowed his eyes.

  Enoch cleared his throat. ‘Mr Teasdale has something to say.’

  Mr Teasdale stepped forward, fidgeting with his fingers. ‘Firstly, I would like to apologize to you, Mirabelle. I unjustly accused you of something that you did not do. Secondly . . .’

  Jem was surprised to see his eyes welling up with tears.

  ‘Secondly I would like to thank you personally, and on behalf of the people of Rookhaven for what you did.’ He turned to look at Jem. ‘I think we owe this young lady a great debt too. Miss Griffin, if it hadn’t been for your quick thinking . . .’ He wiped a hand across his eyes, but it was too late. ‘I’m sorry,’ he sobbed, ‘I’m a little overcome.’

  ‘That’s all right, Mr Teasdale,’ said Mirabelle.

  ‘How’s Mr Tibbles, Mr Teasdale?’ asked Tom.

  Mr Teasdale looked surprised and then oddly grateful that Tom had asked after his cat. He smiled broadly now. ‘Very well, thank you for asking. He is, however, slightly on the mischievous side.’

  Tom nodded politely as Mr Teasdale proceeded to go on at length about his cat. Dr Ellenby looked at his watch. ‘My, my, is that the time? We should be getting back.’

  Mr Teasdale started to follow him as they made their way towards the gate. Dr Ellenby turned round and winked at everyone, then did a little clap.

  ‘Well done again, Mirabelle, and Jem Griffin from London.’

  All eyes were on Enoch now. He stood with his hands behind his back and nodded.

  ‘Well now.’

  ‘Well now indeed, Uncle,’ said Odd.

  There was a slight pause.

  Enoch cleared his throat. ‘It has been decided that Jem and Tom can stay in the house. Indefinitely.’

  Jem felt a warm glow as both Tom and Mirabelle grinned at her.

  ‘You will, of course, pull your weight. There is dusting to do, polishing and whatnot.’

  ‘And whatnot. Whatnot is very important,’ said Odd.

  ‘Yes, well . . .’ Enoch looked at them all as if he couldn’t quite figure out how to leave.

  Mirabelle stepped forward and stood before him.

  ‘Thank you, Uncle. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.’

  Enoch looked a little taken aback, but then he held out his hands and clasped Mirabelle’s in his.

  ‘And thank you, Mirabelle,’ he said, smiling down at her.

  He turned and went back into the house.

  ‘I should go – my dad’s waiting for me,’ said Freddie. He smiled and headed for the front of the house.

  Lucius cawed. Mirabelle looked at the sky. ‘Looks like rain.’

  ‘Good, then we can go inside,’ said Odd. He started towards the house. He stopped when he realized no one was following. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘You won’t get a second invitation.’

  Jem thought he seemed troubled. He was frowning so hard he looked as if he were in pain.

  ‘Where to?’ she asked.

  Odd squirmed a little, as if something prickly was stuck under his jacket. ‘My room,’ he said, avoiding their eyes.

  ‘Your room?’ gasped Mirabelle.

  Odd looked slightly exasperated. ‘Yes.’

  ‘But no one—’

  ‘ “Goes with Odd”, yes, I know, dear Mirabelle. And no one has ever seen my room, but I’m asking you all to come with me now because I have something I want to show you.’

  Mirabelle and Jem exchanged a glance. They were both as intrigued as each other.

  ‘All right, then,’ said Mirabelle brightly.

  They all headed towards the house. Mirabelle raised her hand. ‘Come on, Lucius.’

  Lucius twitched his wings for a moment, but stayed on his tree branch.

  ‘Lucius?’

  Odd looked apologetic. ‘I think he knows.’

  Mirabelle frowned. ‘Knows what?’

  ‘He knows he can’t go where you’re going. Not this time.’

  F
reddie

  They had left the house behind and Freddie’s father was driving down the road that led into Rookhaven. He shifted slightly in his seat as he drove.

  ‘I think it went well,’ he said.

  Freddie was slightly taken aback. His father never initiated a conversation, and this was very definitely the start of one.

  ‘What, Dad?’

  ‘The discussions. I think they went well. You know you can go up to the house at any time now to visit your friends.’

  There was a pause as Freddie tried to comprehend what was being said.

  ‘Any time,’ his father said, nodding resolutely to himself, his eyes on the road.

  ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  There was another long but slightly more panicked pause. Freddie didn’t know where to look.

  ‘I was very proud of him, you know.’

  Freddie looked at his father.

  ‘I was too, Dad.’

  His father looked at him, his eyes shining. ‘And he was proud of you.’ He looked back at the road. Freddie felt as if his chest and head were expanding. He felt as if he might burst.

  ‘We should go fishing again,’ his father said.

  The last time they’d been fishing had been with James. Freddie hadn’t thought about that day in years, and now it came flooding back to him. The warm gentle breeze through the reeds, the sunlight on the water, James showing him how to cast his line.

  ‘Mum should come too,’ he said.

  ‘A good idea. We can make a picnic of it,’ his dad said. Freddie watched the road ahead, and he smiled.

  Mirabelle

  Odd’s room was chaotic and cavernous. Things were jumbled everywhere. There were paintings and clocks, various ornaments, several chandeliers. There was a giant stuffed tortoise hanging from the ceiling, fur rugs, a penny-farthing, a collection of suitcases, a velvet smoking jacket, a rather lurid gold ballgown, a suit of armour, a couple of spiky maces, a wooden shield, dozens of snowglobes, a full-sized stuffed mammoth – which Mirabelle found particularly intriguing – and a mounted moose’s head to which Tom had taken a bit of a shine.

  ‘Look at me – I’m a moose,’ he said, holding it in front of his face.

  ‘Yes, yes, very droll,’ said Odd, standing before a wooden table and looking around agitatedly.

  Jem gave Mirabelle a questioning look. She knew something was up too.

  ‘What is it, Odd? What’s going on?’ asked Mirabelle.

  Odd nibbled on the tip of his index finger, then wagged it in the air like a professor about to embark on a lecture.

  ‘I wanted to show you something.’

  He rummaged in his jacket pocket and took out the golden chain that Mirabelle had seen him with before. He put it on the table and Mirabelle stepped forward and looked at it more closely.

  It was a golden pendant with a charm in the shape of a loop. It was simple but very pretty.

  ‘That’s lovely,’ said Mirabelle.

  ‘This pendant was your mother’s,’ said Odd, looking very serious.

  Mirabelle was surprised. ‘My mother’s? Where did you get it?’

  ‘She gave it to me for safekeeping.’

  Mirabelle picked up the pendant. Tom and Jem crowded around to have a look.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ said Jem.

  ‘It’s expensive,’ said Tom.

  Jem narrowed her eyes at him.

  Mirabelle held it tight for a moment, remembering the woman she’d seen in her visions with Piglet.

  ‘Where did she get it?’ asked Mirabelle.

  Odd cleared his throat. ‘That’s the thing. It was a gift. And I think she got it from you.’

  Mirabelle was gobsmacked. ‘What?’

  The three of them looked bemused as they stood in front of Odd.

  ‘Let me attempt to explain,’ he said. He rummaged around in his pocket again and brought out the crumpled-looking paper and the arrowhead he always seemed to carry. He put them on the bench.

  He carefully unwrapped the paper, revealing the yellowish-grey substance contained within.

  ‘This is soap. And this is an arrowhead.’

  They all stepped closer for a look.

  ‘The thing is,’ said Odd, ‘this is ancient Babylonian soap, and this is a Saxon arrowhead.’

  Tom picked up the arrowhead. ‘But this looks brand new, and the soap . . . the soap looks like it was made yesterday.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Odd.

  Mirabelle’s mind was spinning. ‘What are you getting at, Odd?’

  ‘ “No one goes with Odd”, that’s what everyone says, and in recent times that has been disproven by recent dramatic events, and despite my private nature I’ve had to forgo tradition and allow people to travel with me.’

  Mirabelle could feel her impatience building. She had a sense of something at play, but – like an unfinished jigsaw – it just didn’t make sense yet. She was waiting for the final piece to click into place.

  ‘When I travel, it’s not just a matter of where, although that geographic measurement is very often the only relevant factor, but sometimes it can be a matter of when.’

  They all stared at him. Nobody moved.

  Odd lifted up the arrowhead. ‘I’m three hundred years old, give or take a decade or two, but I picked this up at the Battle of Hastings in 1066.’ He held up the soap. ‘And I borrowed this from a nobleman in ancient Babylon.’

  Mirabelle held her breath. They were all frozen in place.

  ‘Right,’ said Tom, shaking his head, ‘but you’re only three hundred years old.’

  Mirabelle’s eyes narrowed. ‘You said my mother got this pendant from me.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve surmised,’ said Odd.

  ‘But I’ve never met my mother.’

  Odd nodded. ‘Your mother appeared with the pendant one day. I think it was about a week or two into her stay with us. Enoch enquired politely as to where she’d got it, and she told him she’d met a young girl in the garden who’d given it to her. The young girl had black hair and wore dark velvet clothes.’

  Mirabelle felt momentarily light-headed and had to lean on the table.

  ‘You have met your mother, Mirabelle, just not yet.’ Odd frowned. ‘Or at least you have, but you haven’t . . . it’s all very confusing.’

  Odd looked at them all, and to Mirabelle it seemed as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He took in a deep breath. ‘Now, who would like to go with Odd?’

  It was different this time.

  When Mirabelle stepped through the portal with Odd, Jem and Tom, she felt less of a rushing sensation and more of a feeling of just passing over a threshold.

  They found themselves in the secluded portion of the garden that curved round the back of the house. Odd pointed them towards a bush and signalled for them to creep low towards it. It was a sunny day, and the air felt fresher. The house looked cleaner and less tangled with thorns and ivy. Mirabelle was still trying to take it all in when Odd tapped her on the shoulder and told them all to watch.

  A woman dressed in white was sitting on a bench, reading a book. Mirabelle recognized her instantly. Her heart started to pound, and she began to tremble.

  ‘Odd, I can’t do this. This is just . . .’

  Odd put the pendant in her hand and gently closed her fingers round it.

  ‘It’s all right, Mirabelle. You’ve done it already.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Or at least you will. The truth is I’m getting a slight headache thinking about it.’

  Mirabelle launched herself at him and squeezed him tight. ‘Thank you, Odd.’

  Odd patted her on the back, his voice muffled against her neck. ‘You’re welcome.’

  Mirabelle hugged Tom next, which took him by surprise. She reserved her strongest hug for Jem.

  ‘Thank you, Jem, for everything.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything,’ said Jem, pulling away from her and wiping her eyes.

  Mirabelle shook her head. ‘That’s not true.’

&n
bsp; ‘Go to her,’ Jem said.

  Mirabelle nodded and steeled herself. She clutched the pendant tightly in her fist, then walked out from behind the bush.

  Her legs felt like lead, and her heart was pounding even harder.

  She saw the woman turn. Saw her smile.

  Mirabelle suddenly felt as if she were floating on air.

  And now she stood before her mother. She had grey eyes and dark hair.

  ‘Hello,’ her mother said.

  ‘Hello,’ said Mirabelle.

  ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m Mirabelle.’

  ‘Mirabelle. That’s a lovely name. My name’s Alice.’

  ‘I know,’ said Mirabelle.

  Piglet

  Piglet sees everything now.

  He sees the people of Rookhaven.

  He sees Alfie Parkin approaching the baker’s, clutching a bunch of flowers. He can hear Alfie’s heart beating fast just before he opens the door. He can see the look of delight on Amy’s face when the door opens.

  He sees Mr and Mrs Smith working in the greengrocer’s. Mr Smith stops what he’s doing for a moment and stares at the photo of his sons on the wall. Mrs Smith goes to him, and squeezes his hand.

  He sees Dr Ellenby sauntering up the main street. People salute him as he passes by and he greets them warmly in return. Then Dr Ellenby stops with his hands in his pockets and looks around at the village, and Piglet can see the pride in his eyes.

  He sees the Fletchers by the river. Mrs Fletcher is sitting on a picnic blanket. She watches Mr Fletcher and Freddie bait their fishing hooks. Mr Fletcher ruffles Freddie’s hair and Mrs Fletcher smiles.

  Piglet can see the house too. He can see Enoch looking out over the estate, a faint look of satisfaction on his face. He sees Eliza in front of her dressing table, examining her make-up in the mirror. Dotty and Daisy are dancing and singing in the Room of Knives, and Piglet can tell the ravens aren’t impressed but they tolerate it.

  And because Piglet doesn’t belong to time and space, because Piglet is different, he also sees the house at a different time, at a time when he was younger.

  He sees Odd, Jem and Tom hiding behind a bush. He sees Mirabelle tentatively approaching a woman sitting on a bench. He can hear Mirabelle’s heart pounding.

 

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