The Key to Rondo

by Emily Rodda

And while Leo was still trying to digest this startling information, Mimi began to play, and the room was suddenly filled with glorious sound.

  Leo sat, transfixed. He didn’t know enough about music to know what Mimi was playing. It was something classical, of course. Some piece by Mozart, maybe, or Beethoven, or someone famous like that.

  It didn’t matter. All that mattered were the pure notes, rising and falling, filling every corner of the little room with thrilling beauty.

  I didn’t know she could play like that, Leo thought in awe. He saw that Jim and Polly had come back into the room. They were pulling the door to the bedrooms closed behind them, staring at Mimi, then looking over at the old woman by the fire.

  She was sitting bolt upright. Her eyes were very bright. Her knotted hands were clutching the arms of her chair as slowly her head moved in time with the music.

  The tune ended. The last, throbbing note died away. Mimi lowered the violin with a sigh.

  There was a moment’s silence, then Jim began to clap. Polly joined him, her tear-stained face wreathed in smiles. Leo jumped up and clapped too.

  Mimi hunched her shoulders, suddenly self-conscious. ‘I’m a bit out of practice,’ she mumbled.

  ‘I don’t know how you’d be if you were in practice, then,’ said Jim. ‘That was grand.’

  But Mimi was looking at Grandma.

  ‘Not bad,’ the old lady said, nodding. ‘Not bad at all. But now let’s have something a bit jollier – something a person can sing along to.’

  ‘Like what?’ Mimi asked in her prickliest voice, and Leo’s heart sank.

  ‘What about … “The Pom-Pom Polka”,’ said Grandma. ‘That was one of Charlie’s favourites. Do you know it?’

  She began to hum a rollicking tune in a cracked but surprisingly strong voice. Polly joined her, her voice high and clear. Jim rumbled tunelessly along with them.

  Mimi listened, expressionless, for one whole chorus. Her lips were a straight, hard line. Then she met Leo’s anxious eyes. She seemed to think for a moment. Then she began tapping her foot, tucked the violin under her chin again, and began to play vigorously along with the singing voices.

  Not a note was out of place. Mimi played ‘The Pom-Pom Polka’ as if she’d been listening to it all her life. The sound of the violin again filled the old room – not with beauty this time, but with simple joy.

  Beaming, Jim seized Polly around the waist and began whirling her around the room. She laughed breathlessly. Grandma went on singing, banging her hands on the arms of her chair. The fox grinned, his golden eyes gleaming red in the firelight. Bertha woke up and stared.

  ‘Oh, that was wonderful!’ cried Polly, when the song ended and she’d thrown herself, panting, down into a chair.

  ‘Wonderful!’ Jim repeated, clapping Mimi on the back.

  ‘Not bad at all,’ said Grandma, her wrinkled old face softened, and wet with tears. ‘Oh, how that took me back.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Bertha nostalgically. ‘My brothers and I used to dance “The Pom-Pom Polka” when we were piglets.’

  ‘This old house used to shake with music when Charlie was alive,’ Grandma said, her hooded eyes shining. ‘People would come from all around to hear him. Gosh, he could play, that old cat! We’d dance, and we’d sing. Then we’d eat supper. And afterwards we’d all sit round the fire and the old ones would tell stories.’

  ‘Family stories?’ asked Leo, thinking of Aunt Bethany.

  ‘Sometimes,’ the old woman said, smiling. ‘But mostly made-up stories – ghost stories and Langlander tales and the like.’

  Leo gulped.

  ‘Langlander tales?’ Mimi burst out incredulously.

  Grandma stared at her. ‘You know,’ she said. ‘“Rollo and the Dragon”, “Silly Billy”. “Dorcas Wonders Why” … those stories about magic folk from a world called Langland, who come to Rondo and get into all sorts of …’

  Mimi and Leo both sat shaking their heads stupidly, quite unable to speak.

  ‘Well, glory be!’ said Grandma, flapping her hands. ‘I knew Langlander tales were out of fashion, but I never thought I’d meet a young one who’d never even heard of them!’

  ‘My favourite was “Monty and Ida”,’ said Jim reminiscently.

  Polly shuddered. ‘I don’t like Langlander tales,’ she said. ‘They used to scare me when I was a child. Don’t you go telling them to Rosebud, Grandma. You either, Jim.’

  ‘They never scared me,’ said Grandma with relish. ‘I loved them. Still do. I know they’re only stories, mind, which is more than some folk do. Why, I once met a woman who swore that her cousin’s best friend’s sister had actually been to Langland! Went through a secret Gap full of musical rainbows, she said. And had a cup of tea with Monty himself! Well, I ask you!’

  She cackled with laughter.

  The fox yawned widely. Bertha’s eyes fluttered closed. Polly said something about heating up soup, and moved away. Jim drew the curtains, shutting out the night, then began to put more wood on the fire. The old woman sat staring into space, lost in her memories.

  Leo felt stunned. He watched as Mimi put the violin back in its case on the shelf. Mimi’s movements were stiff and jerky. Grandma’s reminiscences had obviously shocked her as much as they’d shocked Leo. No doubt she was feeling as grateful as he was that she hadn’t told Jim and Polly her last name.

  Langlander tales.

  Leo didn’t want to think about this now. He refused to think about this now.

  ‘How long have you lived here, Jim?’ he asked, rather loudly, as Jim turned from the fire.

  Jim grinned, brushing dirt and bark scraps from his hands. ‘Ever since I married Pol,’ he said. ‘This is Grandma’s house, but Polly was living here when we got wed, and Grandma said she’d put up with my company, rather than lose her granddaughter.’

  ‘You take up a lot of room, though, big lummox that you are,’ mumbled the old woman. But her smile took the sting out of her words, and her eyes, as they turned to Jim, were full of love.

  ‘Polly and I have known each other since we were kids,’ Jim went on. ‘I was born a long way away – over near the mountains – but my parents had to leave that place and we ended up here – or very near here. The village is in ruins now, but you must have passed it on the road.’

  ‘You mean the village with the sunflowers?’ Leo asked.

  Jim’s grin faded. ‘That’s the place,’ he said soberly. ‘Polly’s parents were already living there, with Polly and her older brother and baby sister, when we arrived. My dad set up as a woodcutter, supplying folk in the district with firewood. It wasn’t his trade, but it was a living, you see?’

  Leo nodded. There’s another story behind this, he thought. But clearly Jim wasn’t going to go into any details about why his father and mother had left the place where he was born.

  ‘Anyway,’ Jim said, ‘we were still newcomers – didn’t know anyone very well – when one day my dad was cutting down a dead tree in the forest here and that old wolf you saw today started giving Polly and Grandma a bit of trouble.’

  He glanced at his wife, who was busily stirring something on the stove. ‘Polly had come up through the forest to visit Grandma, you see, and bring her some supplies, because Grandma was poorly.’

  ‘The rheumatics, it was,’ Grandma put in. ‘That wolf would never have got the better of me, otherwise.’

  ‘’Course not,’ Jim agreed amiably. ‘And Polly was just a little thing then. Anyhow, Dad heard the screams. He came running with his axe and scared the wolf off.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘Polly’s family and mine became very close after that. By the end, we were more like one big family than two separate ones. Suki, my – my sister – married Polly’s brother, Walter, and I think everyone hoped that Polly and I would make a match of it too, one day. But of course, by the time we did, they were all … gone.’

  ‘Did the wolf get them?’ Mimi asked, wide-eyed.

  ‘Something worse,’ Grandma answ
ered grimly.

  Mimi had just drawn breath to ask more questions when there was a sharp knock on the door.

  ‘Why, who can that be?’ said Polly, turning from the stove.

  Leo jumped up. He and Mimi drew close together. With a surprised glance at their frightened faces, Jim went to the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ he called.

  ‘It’s the dot-catcher!’ called a voice that chilled Leo’s blood. ‘Conker, the friendly travelling dot-catcher! May I come in?’

  Chapter 19

  Good Advice

  Jim turned to look at Leo and Mimi. They both shook their heads violently putting their fingers to their lips and backing towards the door that led to the bedrooms.

  By now, everyone in the room could see their alarm. Polly and Grandma were staring at them in surprise. Bertha blinked sleepily, shook her head till her ears flapped, and lumbered to her feet.

  ‘Hold on!’ Jim called through the door. He rattled the bolt with one hand, as if he was trying to open it, at the same time waving his other hand at Mimi and Leo, signalling to them to get out of sight. Mimi and Leo slipped rapidly into the bedroom hallway, pulling the door shut behind them.

  They heard the front door bolt slide back, and the door creak open.

  ‘Good evening,’ they heard Jim say heartily. ‘What can we do for you?’

  It was dark in the bedroom hallway, but light gleamed through cracks in the old timber wall. His heart hammering, Leo put his eye to a crack. He saw Jim standing back from the door, and Conker walking in, smiling broadly, with Freda the duck at his heels.

  A third figure, tall and slim, lingered in the shadows outside.

  ‘Don’t stay out there in the cold,’ Jim said, beckoning.

  ‘Jim!’ Grandma muttered warningly. But Jim either did not hear, or chose to ignore her.

  ‘Come in and warm yourself,’ he said to the shadowy figure. ‘There’s a good fire in here.’

  The figure hesitated, then stepped noiselessly over the threshold. As it moved from the darkness into the light, Leo caught his breath.

  The third visitor was a woman dressed in leggings and tunic of fine black leather. A broad belt was slung round her slim waist, and from it hung a dagger in a leather sheath. Her hair was short, spiky and black as shreds of licorice.

  She would have made a striking figure in any company. But it was her face that made her appearance really startling. It was heart-shaped, with huge, watchful golden eyes beneath dark, slanting brows. And it was covered with soft, fine fur – fur as smooth as velvet, striped gold and black, like a tiger’s.

  ‘Tye,’ Mimi breathed.

  Leo nodded in the dark, staring in fascinated fear as the strange woman moved closer to the fire. Her black-gloved hands hung loosely by her sides, the left very close to the jewelled hilt of her dagger. Her feet made no sound on the floor. He could almost see her muscles rippling beneath her clothes, which fitted her like a second skin.

  ‘Well, well,’ said Conker, rubbing his hands and eyeing Bertha curiously. ‘You’re very cosy here, but what a lonely spot this is! Why, we wouldn’t have known this cottage was here, if your music hadn’t beckoned us as we tramped through the forest. “The Pom-Pom Polka”, if I’m not mistaken. A grand old tune!’

  ‘Indeed,’ Jim agreed, smiling.

  Grandma said not a word. She had turned in her chair so that she faced the fire, and only her hunched shoulders could be seen.

  ‘You are – all – very welcome,’ said Polly, rather breathlessly. ‘But I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed in your visit. We don’t need a dot-catcher. Rufus sees to any dots that come here.’

  She gestured at the fox. He was sitting up alertly, his eyes fixed on Freda, who returned his gaze boldly as if daring him to make a move.

  ‘And I see to wolves,’ said Bertha, lifting her chin aggressively. ‘And any other enemies who might come my way.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Conker, smiling even more broadly. ‘I thought I recognised you! You’re the famous Bertha, from Macdonald’s farm, if I’m not mistaken. What brings you here?’

  ‘I am visiting,’ Bertha said haughtily, showing none of her usual delight at being recognised. ‘The hurly-burly life of a star is so exhausting! I enjoy relaxing in the simple company of friends.’

  ‘Of course, of course!’ murmured Conker. His eyes roved restlessly around the room. He cleared his throat. ‘Well, then,’ he said to Jim. ‘I can see you’re very well protected. We’d best be off, and trouble you no further.’

  Tye left the fire and prowled silently back to the door, looking at no one. The duck gave Rufus and Bertha one last, challenging stare, then went to join her. Conker bowed to Polly, turned as if to leave, then made a show of remembering something.

  ‘Oh, I meant to ask you,’ he said casually. ‘Have you seen two young strangers around here today? A boy and a girl?’

  Leo held his breath.

  ‘No,’ Jim said, as Polly turned hastily to stir the soup. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Oh,’ shrugged Conker. ‘They’re young cousins of mine, visiting from the coast. We were to meet hereabouts, but we seem to have missed one another. It worries me to think that they might be lost in the forest.’

  ‘Of course,’ Jim agreed, walking to the door and opening it. ‘Well, if we see them, we’ll tell them that you were looking for them.’

  ‘Oh, no need to do that,’ Conker said hurriedly. ‘I don’t want them to – to feel embarrassed. You know how easily embarrassed young ones are. Hate fuss. Just keep them here and send me a mouse. I’ll come and get them. “Conker the dot-catcher” will always find me. The mice know my travelling ways.’

  Jim murmured and smiled.

  Conker bowed, and then he, Freda and Tye went out into the night.

  Jim closed the door after them, and bolted it securely once more. He pressed his ear against the thick wood and listened for a moment.

  ‘So – now that our visitors have gone, can we eat, Polly?’ he called over his shoulder, far more loudly than necessary. ‘I’m famished – and I’m sure Grandma is too.’

  Again he listened. Then he moved away from the door, apparently satisfied that Conker and his companions were at last on their way.

  Leo and Mimi waited a minute or two, just to be sure, then crept out of hiding.

  Rufus the fox had disappeared from the hearthrug. Bertha now had sole possession of it. She was devouring the contents of a large pottery bowl, snuffling contentedly.

  Grandma was sitting at one end of the table, and Polly at the other. Jim was setting out five bowls of steaming soup. He gestured to Mimi and Leo to sit down. As they slid silently into their places, he sat down opposite them and picked up his spoon.

  There was a long minute’s silence, broken only by the clinking of metal on china and the slurping sounds Bertha was making as she cleaned the bottom of her bowl.

  The soup was tasty and thick with vegetables, but Leo could hardly swallow it. He knew that Jim, Polly and Grandma were waiting for an explanation, and he didn’t know where to begin. He knew they must feel angry and betrayed because he and Mimi hadn’t told them they were in hiding from dangerous enemies.

  Mimi was staring down at her soup, not even pretending to eat, but not making any effort to say anything either. A wave of helpless irritation swept over Leo. Mimi had retreated into her shell as she always did when she felt threatened.

  ‘Well, isn’t anyone going to say anything?’ Bertha exclaimed at last, looking up from her bowl with soup dripping from her snout. ‘If that dot-catcher is your cousin, Leo, I’m a mushroom! I want to know what’s going on!’

  ‘I think we’d all like to know that,’ said Polly a little sharply.

  Leo felt his face grow hot. ‘Thank you for not giving us away,’ he made himself say. His voice sounded as tense as he felt.

  Jim looked up at him. ‘I don’t enjoy lying,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s a sneaking wolf’s trick. But you saved our daughter’s life, and Polly and I woul
d have done far more than lie to protect you, had it been necessary.’

  ‘And it’s a wonder it wasn’t necessary, Jim,’ Grandma burst out, scowling at him. ‘Letting a nasty Terlamaine under this roof! After dark, too. I’d have thought you’d have had more sense!’

  ‘Oh, Grandma!’ sighed Polly.

  ‘Don’t you “Oh, Grandma” me, my girl,’ the old woman growled. ‘You can’t trust a Terlamaine – everyone knows that. They’re unnatural, the slinking, hairy things. They don’t belong among normal people. And I didn’t like the look of that dot-catcher, either.’

  ‘Or that duck,’ Bertha put in. ‘She gave me the creeps! Whoever heard of a duck wearing a mask?’

  ‘It’s not a real mask,’ Leo said, half-smiling despite his uneasiness. ‘It’s just the colour of the feathers around her eyes.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Bertha retorted. ‘Well, since you seem to know all about her, maybe you’ll be kind enough to explain why she and the dot-catcher and the tiger-woman are looking for you.’

  Mimi let her spoon fall with a clatter. ‘They’re looking for us because they work for the Blue Queen,’ she said loudly.

  It was as if she’d thrown a bomb into the middle of the table. Grandma looked thunderstruck. Polly reached out and gripped Jim’s hand. Bertha shut her mouth with a snap.

  Jim took a deep breath. ‘You’d better tell us about it,’ he said in a level voice.

  So Mimi did. In a high, rapid voice, she explained that the Blue Queen had stolen her dog, and that she was determined to get him back. She told of Spoiler’s attack, and Conker’s deceit, and the escape through the forest with the Flitters.

  But she made no mention of the music box, and didn’t say where she and Leo had come from. Those things, she obviously felt, should remain secret, and Leo agreed with her wholeheartedly. It seemed to him very unlikely that Polly, Jim and Grandma would believe them anyway.

  When Mimi had finished, there was silence around the table for a long moment.

  Then, still gripping Jim’s hand, Polly leaned forward. ‘I’m very sorry for you, Mimi,’ she said. ‘I know what it is to lose someone you love – we all do, here.’