The Arrowhead Moor Adventure

by Fleur Hitchcock

  Ava stopped. “Oh.” She breathed out slowly.

  She could still only see a few metres, but it was obvious where she’d drifted off, going the wrong way round a large tussock at the side of the path, while the track snaked away to the right.

  She heard the crow call again – or was it a crow?

  And again.

  And was that a bark?

  The sound came from somewhere further down the track. Was it possible that she’d veered off to the left and Aiden had pedalled straight on? He wouldn’t have been able to see where he was going. She glanced down at her green jacket. It wasn’t especially bright. It wouldn’t show up much in the mist, particularly if Aiden’s glasses were wet.

  She pushed the bike along the track, keeping the tussock on her left this time and peering down in case there was any sign of Aiden’s tyre marks. The ground rose and fell and the whole track began to tip downhill. Stopping, she listened to the misty rain falling on her waterproof and all the leaves.

  There was that crow again.

  “Aiden!” she shouted.

  Her voice didn’t really travel, but Aiden couldn’t have gone far. They’d only been apart about ten minutes.

  “Aiden!” she screamed, pulling her hood off so that she could hear.

  “Ava!”

  And barking. Bella barking.

  “Where are you?” She stared into the rain.

  “Here!”

  She pushed the bike down the track and stopped. “Where?”

  “Here!”

  His voice was much louder this time. Staying on the track, she wandered down a little further, listening.

  “I’m stuck!” he shouted. “Help!”

  “Stuck in what?”

  “In a bog,” came the reply.

  Ava moved closer to his voice and scoured the track for any sign of him. “Which side?” she asked, no longer needing to shout.

  “I think I may be on the right,” he called, and at that moment she saw Bella, a paler blob in the white, and behind her something waving.

  “Oh my god, Aiden,” she said, spotting him. “You complete idiot.”

  He appeared to be waist deep in grass, but she knew from Josh falling in one a couple of years ago that bogs were often invisible. They looked like large grassy tussocks, but beneath them the ground simply disappeared. She also knew that the more you struggled, the deeper you got.

  “Where does it start?” she asked, standing back from the grass on the definitely solid gravel.

  “Quite a long way out,” said Aiden. “I am an idiot – I should have seen it.”

  “Yeah, but the fog,” she replied, lying down and crawling forward, pushing the ground experimentally.

  Alongside her, Bella sniffed and then let out a little yelp. “You know this is a bog, don’t you?” said Ava. Bella shuffled and stood back from the grass.

  “My bike’s underneath me,” said Aiden. “I rode it straight in. I’m dead glad to see you, Ava. I thought you’d never hear me.”

  Ava didn’t say anything. She was trying to think of the best way to get him out.

  “Does your phone work up here?” he asked.

  Ava shook her head. “Going to have to work this out ourselves.”

  “Try pulling me out with your bike?” Aiden said.

  Now that she was close she could see that Aiden’s glasses were completely obscured. He really couldn’t see a thing. But he was staying amazingly calm considering he was effectively blind and waist deep in a bog. “I haven’t got a rope or anything to tow you with.”

  “Not like that,” he said. “If you put it flat on the bog and pulled from your end, I could hang on to the other end and maybe you could tug me out.”

  “What about your bike?”

  “If I can, I’ll hook my knee round the crossbar. It’s not very heavy…”

  “Seriously?”

  Ava lay her bike flat across the bog, pointing the front wheel towards Aiden. The wheel reached him easily and he took it in both hands.

  She sat on the ground and, bracing her feet against a lump of grass, Ava took the back wheel in both hands and began to pull.

  Bella raced around behind her, a sort of doggy encouragement.

  “Slow,” said Aiden.

  Ava tried to keep pulling, but nothing seemed to be moving except Aiden’s arms, which appeared to be getting longer. “Think I need to try plan B,” she said.

  “What’s plan B?” asked Aiden, looking more than slightly worried.

  “Going to try standing,” she said, scrambling to her feet. “I’ll be pulling the weight of the bike and you, but this isn’t working.”

  “And what if that doesn’t work?” said Aiden.

  “We’ll have to try plan C.”

  “Which is?”

  “I dunno yet.”

  “Can we use the phone, please?” asked Chloe as she sat on the steps of the barn and pulled back the plaster that covered her blisters.

  Josh prodded her.

  “What?” She glanced up at him, frowning.

  Grandma looked from Chloe to Josh. “Is it important?”

  “Nah,” said Josh. “Don’t worry. It’s just some people acting suspiciously. Chloe wanted to ring the police.”

  Grandma sat back, laughing. “Oh, you are a hoot, Josh – your stories. They do make me laugh. And where were these suspicious people?”

  “At the barrow on the moor,” said Josh. “And the phone box in Damsel thingy.”

  Grandma continued to laugh and rose to her feet. “Anyway, dears, while you’re waiting for the others, why not have a scone? They’re supposed to be for the film club, but I think you could sneak one or two without annoying your grandfather.” She set off towards the house.

  Chloe looked across at Josh. “Why shouldn’t I call the police?”

  Josh shrugged. “It’s more fun if we don’t tell anyone,” he said. “Anyway, I just did, and she didn’t believe me, so we need to get more evidence before we try to tell anyone else.”

  Chloe sniffed the heavenly scent coming from the kitchen and nodded.

  “So, Grandpa, what happens if you eat the cream and jam without the scones?” asked Josh, leaning over the huge pot of cream in the middle of the table.

  Grandpa smiled and flapped Josh away. “Then the film club will have nothing to eat when they come round to discuss the summer programme.”

  “We could maybe get you some more cream?” said Chloe, watching the scones rising in the oven.

  “No need for that,” said Grandpa, reaching into the fridge. “I’ve got plenty of jam, plenty of cream and, actually, plenty of scones. BUT –” he said, as Josh’s hands shot forward – “you can have two each when I take them out, and absolutely no more. OK?”

  Chloe nodded, and glanced across at Josh, who was also nodding but had his fingers crossed behind his back. She poked him and he glared at her before laughing.

  “Promise, Grandpa,” he said, this time without his fingers crossed.

  As Grandpa took the first batch of golden scones out of the oven, Grandma switched on the radio.

  Chloe watched Grandpa’s old brown hands land the tray of scones on a large mat. She watched as he flicked each scone on to a wire rack and she realised that she was really hungry.

  “In local news, a hunt is on across the Dragon Peninsula for several ewes taken from a farm last night. If you have any information, please call…”

  As steam rose from the scones Chloe listened to the news report. “And the headlines again. Police in the London area are hunting for a gang of jewel thieves. The thieves, who broke into safety deposit boxes at Hatchard’s Bank early on Tuesday morning, are believed to have taken the sixty diamonds that make up the famous Eliza Necklace – once owned by Queen Victoria and presented to her by Princess Eliza of Russia in 1851. The necklace had been awaiting repair…”

  Chloe stopped, her hand outstretched. She and Josh exchanged looks. Suddenly the scones seemed less delicious.

  �
��The largest of the diamonds, known as the Well of Beauty, measures more than five centimetres across and sits at the heart of the necklace. Scotland Yard are interested in interviewing anyone with any information. And the weather – further rain is expected…”

  Chloe took a scone and split it. As the steam rose she took a teaspoon of cream and spread it across both halves before landing a small splodge of jam in the middle.

  Jewels.

  Diamonds.

  The Eliza Necklace.

  The second half of the deal.

  “Wow,” said Josh next to her.

  “Exactly,” said Chloe, eating her scone in three scalding bites. “I think we need to talk.”

  “Now?” he said.

  “Yup!”

  “Thanks, Grandpa,” they chorused, rushing from the table.

  “Really?” said Grandpa, whisking away their plates. “You’ve had enough?”

  “They were lovely, Grandpa,” said Chloe, pausing in the doorway, “delicious, and I’d love to have more, but there’s something—”

  “We’ve got to do!” yelled Josh, grabbing her elbow and yanking her back out into the rain.

  Aiden trusted Ava. He trusted her completely. It was just that so far plan A and plan B weren’t working very well.

  “OK – two more goes, and then I think I’ll go for help.”

  “Good,” said Aiden.

  He didn’t want to make a fuss, but he was beginning to wonder what had happened to his legs. They’d gone completely numb, and where earlier he’d been able to feel the crossbar of the bike with his foot, it seemed to have gone. He wasn’t even sure if he was moving his foot any more. Leaning forward, he felt the water slosh up around his armpits. He’d sunk lower in the bog, but he was so cold the water seemed almost warm. Almost nice. He could just fall asleep.

  “OK,” said Ava, turning the bike round the other way. “Hang on to the crossbar; I’m going to pull the saddle. Might work better than the wheels.”

  Aiden hoped she was right. He’d worked out that it would take her half an hour to pedal all the way uphill to the village, then probably another half an hour to come back with a search party – and that was if she could even find her way back to him in this fog. He wasn’t sure he could hang on for that long.

  Although his fingers were so cold he could barely feel them, he clamped them round the crossbar. It was definitely easier to hold than a wheel. Holding the other end of the bike, Ava was balanced on a grassy lump, and it occurred to him that in a couple of minutes they might both be stuck in the bog. And then who would rescue them?

  “One, two, three – go!”

  Bella danced and barked as Ava pulled.

  Aiden gripped as hard as he could and he leaned forward, willing himself out of the bog. “Nearly,” he muttered. “Just…”

  “Yup,” she whispered, closing her eyes and putting in another massive effort.

  Squooooooooch. A long, low sucky sound came from the bog as it began to release him. Ava leaned backwards, pulling the bike right up over her chest, and Aiden scrabbled at the tussock to haul himself out. His arms were flailing, his legs almost useless. Looking down, he was amazed to see the bike following. Black and dripping with mud it rose from the water, jammed between his knees.

  “Yay!” gasped Ava, falling backwards across the track.

  Bella raced all the way round the bog, yelping.

  Aiden couldn’t speak. He was so relieved, so exhausted, that words escaped him. Instead he lay in a widening pool of black water, and was suddenly overtaken by shuddering as the cold ran through his whole body.

  “Can you stand up?” asked Ava, staggering upright.

  She leaned over and set Aiden’s bike vertical, kicking some lumps of mud and grass from the chain and shaking off some of the ooze.

  “Think so.” Aiden knelt, before lifting one leg, then the other. Tottering, he balanced on his dead legs. Pins and needles crept up his calves, and he had to stamp his feet to stop the combination of cramp and shivers that ran up and down them.

  Ava peered at him. “Cycle? It’s a long way to walk.”

  Aiden nodded and slung his leg over the saddle. He tried to pedal, surprised to find that after its ordeal the bike was still perfectly functional. “Yes,” he said, still struggling to form words. “Yes. Bike.”

  Ten minutes later, and all the while keeping an eye on the cottage at the clifftop, Chloe and Josh had established a pretty good tree house in the branches of one of the old apple trees that overlooked the bay. A pallet rescued from the beach last summer, draped with two blue tarpaulins and lined with feed sacks, made a fine viewing platform almost completely protected from the sea mist that came and went.

  “I’ll take the first watch,” said Josh, climbing up into the den. “You can go and get supplies.”

  “I’m not getting supplies,” said Chloe, passing him a milk crate that she had taken from the bike shed. “You can do that – you’re the one that’s always hungry.”

  “Aw,” moaned Josh, sitting on the crate.

  But Chloe wasn’t going to give in. She climbed up into the tree and nestled alongside Josh, butting against him so that they could both sit on the crate and so that they could both see the cottages on the clifftop.

  Rain dripped off the tarpaulins, but they were cosy inside. Never mind that they had got wet setting it all up and that their soggy waterproofs were lying in a pool at their feet.

  While Josh looked down towards the sea, Chloe found herself glancing uphill towards the moor. She was desperate to share what they’d discovered about the diamonds and the theft with the others. She wanted them all to talk it through together, to design a proper strategy. She knew Josh would just race down and bash on the door of the cottage and demand the diamonds back, but they needed to be cleverer than that or they’d end up in trouble.

  “Do you think the other two are all right?” she asked, peering up the hill for the millionth time in the hope of seeing them.

  “I’ve been wondering that,” said Josh, stripping the bark from an apple twig. “I reckon… Oh, look!”

  Bella galloped down into the farmyard, followed seconds later by two bikes: one shiny with Ava on top, the other grubby and black with a matching filthy person on top.

  Chloe leaped down from the den and raced across the orchard. “Where have you two been? What happened?”

  “The rain happened,” said Ava.

  “And a bog,” said Aiden.

  “And getting … lost,” she said.

  “And a rescue,” he continued.

  “We had scones,” said Josh from the tree. “They were delicious.”

  Ava stuck her tongue out at him. “Well we didn’t,” she said.

  “And,” said Chloe, “we know where those diamonds are from and we know there are more.”

  “Good,” said Aiden, peeling a long strand of grass from the mud streaks on his cheek. “But can I change my clothes first?”

  While Chloe brought cushions from the conservatory, and Aiden had a shower and found two more milk crates, and Josh dug out the coconut drops that his mum had sent him with, Ava kept watch. No one came or went from the house on the clifftop and she began to wonder if the men had left, but she didn’t think they could have done – not unless they’d sneaked off somewhere on foot, because the car was still parked outside the cottage. She shuffled across the pallet and peered round the corner towards Sunny Grange House. It stood on its own, a small house with a huge conservatory that was open to the public because it had once belonged to someone famous. They’d normally have visited this holiday, but it was closed for restoration. No. No one would escape that way; that road didn’t really go anywhere, and anyway the men in the cottage wouldn’t think anyone was watching them. They didn’t need to be furtive.

  Chloe threw some cushions in and ran back to get more, while Aiden and Josh squeezed in, and the three of them sat in the tree house listening to the rain pattering on the tarpaulins. Josh shifted and pushed ag
ainst the lower of the two covers and a long string of water dropped past the opening, just missing Chloe, who was halfway up the tree. Out of breath, Chloe stuffed a final two cushions in through the entrance and threw herself in afterwards.

  “Right—” said Josh.

  “The two men,” interrupted Chloe, “are down there, as you—”

  “The men that must actually have stolen the jewels that is,” butted in Josh.

  “Stolen?” said Aiden. “How do you know that?”

  “Because of the radio,” said Chloe. “And the woman—”

  “Wait,” said Ava, holding up her hands. “Start at the beginning.”

  “So,” said Chloe, “turns out that this really—”

  “Really—” said Josh.

  “Really—” said Chloe.

  “Valuable necklace was stolen from a bank in London,” finished Josh.

  “We never saw a necklace,” said Ava.

  “It was in bits – just the diamonds, on their own. It’d been taken apart for cleaning or mending or something,” said Josh.

  “There are sixty of them altogether,” said Chloe. “Plus this huge one called the well of something – and it used to be Queen Victoria’s.”

  “It’s called the Eliza Necklace and it came from Persia.”

  “Russia,” Chloe said, correcting Josh.

  “Sixty? I don’t get it,” said Ava. “We saw twelve. How do we know it’s the same necklace?”

  Chloe and Josh both opened their mouths ready to speak. Chloe won. “When we were at Arrowhead Moor House I overheard the woman talking to someone on the phone.” She pointed down the hill to the cottages. “To those two, I think, and she said something about discretion, and meeting up tomorrow for part two –” Chloe took a coconut drop – “at eleven, and, really importantly, when we were in the barrow the men also said part two.”

  “So…” said Ava, leaning forward.

  “So we think that the twelve we found in the phone box are part one – you know, like a sign of quality – and that the woman in the red car—”

  “With the money bag—” said Josh.