by Susie Bower
‘“Felix Gold. At last,” he said. “Now I have you all.” And he began to laugh again, crazy, evil laughter. And as he laughed, more flames poured from his mouth, and I knew he had set the fire, that he would stop at nothing until he had destroyed our whole family. And at that moment, as our eyes locked together, he shapeshifted and escaped through the roof of the tent.’
‘What did he change into?’
Mr Gold didn’t seem to hear me. He sat with his head in his hands.
At last, I whispered: ‘What happened then? What about Fred and Leonora and the children? And Kula?’
It was as if my voice brought him back to the present moment.
He raised his head. ‘I am sorry. I should not have told you these things. They are not for a child’s ears.’
He stood up suddenly and picked up his stick. ‘Miss Cruet will be waiting.’
And he limped out of the Amphitheatre.
‘But what happened to Fred and Leonora?’ I shouted. ‘Did they escape the fire? Where are they now?’
Mr Gold stopped suddenly. He looked unhappier than anyone I’d ever seen, even Feral last night.
‘They died,’ he said.
‘But—’
‘And that’s the end of the story.’
He turned and limped into the wood.
After a moment, I ran after him and we walked together in silence. Thoughts raced through my head and my heart felt squashed with sadness about Mr Gold losing his twin brother and his family, just like I’d lost mine.
As we went up the path to the school, the breakfast bell rang. Mr Gold stopped, and looked down at me.
‘Sometimes, life takes people away. So the thing to do is to make the very most of what happens now, in the present time.’
‘Is that why they call it the present?’ I said. ‘Because it’s like a special gift?’
Mr Gold smiled then, the crooked smile that made his face look completely different.
‘Yes, child,’ he said. ‘The present is indeed a gift. Use it well.’
‘I will,’ I said.
Every moment with Silver was precious. I couldn’t risk losing her for a second time. Tomorrow was Saturday, and she’d be waiting for me in the Room of Reflection at noon. But the others were expecting me at the rehearsal.
I had to find a way to get to the room. I just had to.
COUNTDOWN TO NOON
Next morning, we had home economics. Most of our lessons involved us doing stuff rather than talking about it or writing it down. So what home economics actually meant was Miss Cruet ordering us to chop vegetables for lunchtime soup.
‘I will stir in the liquorice allsorts and the ginger beer later,’ she said as she swept out.
I glanced up at the kitchen clock. It was already half past eleven. In just thirty minutes it would be noon, and Silver would be waiting for me in the Room of Reflection. Excitement fizzed through me, like lemonade when you shake the can. But how could I get there? Our circus show rehearsal was at noon too. Ideas kept bouncing about in my head like pinballs, but however hard I tried, I couldn’t think of a plan.
Custard, her blanket fastened around her neck as a cloak, was rabbiting on about the rehearsal. The more she did, the more I fidgeted.
‘Ants in your pants again?’ said Rule Boy.
The others all turned to look at me.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Custard. ‘You’ve gone a funny c-colour. Don’t you feel w-well?’
Why, oh why couldn’t I tell them I had a tummy ache or a cold? Only I didn’t tell lies. I put down my knife and the potato I was chopping.
‘I can’t come to the rehearsal,’ I said.
There was a long silence.
‘What do you mean, you can’t come?’ said Rule Boy. ‘You arranged it!’
‘Why c-can’t you?’ said Custard.
‘Yeah, why?’ said Saddo.
‘Why?’ echoed Feral.
The fizzing made my head fuzzy. I’d go pop if I didn’t tell someone about Silver soon. And after all, Silver hadn’t said I couldn’t tell the other children. I took a deep breath.
‘Because… because I’ve found my twin!’
‘Your t-twin?’ said Custard, her eyes wide.
And then the words poured out of my mouth higgledypiggledy.
‘She’s-at-the-school-next-door-just-like-I-said-she-was-and-I’ve-talked-to-her-and-she’s-called-Silver-and-we’re-going-to-be-together-soon-and-she-wants-me-to-meet-her-at-noon-and-that’s-why-I-can’t-come-to-the-rehearsal—’
Rule Boy smirked. ‘Your twin, eh?’ he said. ‘It’s bad enough that there’s one of you, Antsy, let alone two.’
Feral gave a low growl.
‘Anyway,’ said Rule Boy to the others, in his most superior way, ‘she’s obviously making it up.’
‘I am not making it up!’ I said. ‘I saw her. I talked to her. She was there, in the mirror.’
‘What mirror?’ said Saddo.
‘The mirror in the Room of Reflection,’ I said.
‘So you saw your twin in a mirror.’ Rule Boy started to laugh. He turned to the others. ‘Now we know she’s lying. There is no mirror in the Room of Reflection. I should know—I was in there just the other day. The room’s empty. She really is crazy.’
‘Don’t you dare call me crazy!’ I shouted. ‘I did—I saw her. She was real!’
‘Crazy,’ said Rule Boy. ‘Mad as a box of frogs.’
I pushed my shaking hands behind my back and gripped my fingers together. All my excitement about telling them about Silver drained out of me. I might have known Rule Boy would make it all go wrong.
And the kitchen clock was ticking. It was quarter to twelve.
‘Anyhow,’ said Rule Boy, ‘even if there was a mirror—which there isn’t—’
‘There is!’
‘Even if there was, it only proves she’s making it up,’ said Rule Boy. He looked around at the others, like one of those barristers in a courtroom. ‘What do you see when you look in a mirror?’
‘You see y-yourself,’ said Custard.
‘Exactly!’ said Rule Boy triumphantly. ‘Her so-called twin is just a figment of her imagination.’
‘Maybe she’s made up an imaginary friend,’ chimed in Saddo. ‘I had one of those, when I was little. He was called Archibald. I thought he was real for years.’ His mouth turned down in its customary frown. ‘Only he wasn’t. He was just a fig of my imagination.’
‘Figment, dimmo,’ said Rule Boy.
I couldn’t stand it any more. The fizzing in my body had turned black, into thunderbolts and fury. How dare Rule Boy accuse me of lying when I never lied! How dare he call me crazy! He was just jealous, because I had a bigger, better secret than him, with his stupid metronome and sheet music hidden away in an old shed.
‘You’re the one who’s dim!’ I yelled at Rule Boy’s smug face. ‘You’re so stuck on rules and facts that you can’t see anything else. You can’t see magic, or mysterious things. You’re jealous of me, aren’t you? Because I’ve got a twin and you have nobody. You don’t even know where your dad is—’
‘I do,’ said Rule Boy, who had gone pale. ‘I know exactly where he is.’
‘Where is he then?’ I said.
‘In prison,’ said Rule Boy. And he turned and walked out of the kitchen.
We all looked at one another. I hadn’t meant to be horrible about Rule Boy’s dad—he’d just been so mean to me that I sort of burst. Then I saw that the kitchen clock said ten to twelve. It was no good—I’d have to dash up the stairs now. I’d say sorry later.
I yanked open the door—and ran slap bang into Miss Cruet, who fell over backwards. We lay in a tangle on the floor.
‘S-sorry, Miss Cruet,’ I gasped, scrambling to my feet and helping her up. I was just about to run for the stairs when she grabbed my arm.
‘Not so fast, young lady!’ She adjusted her toppling bun and looked round at us all. ‘I heard raised voices. And one of you appears to be missing. Would
someone care to tell me what’s going on?’
There was a long silence.
‘I’m waiting.’ Miss Cruet tapped her knitted boot.
Saddo looked at me. ‘She said she wasn’t coming to our rehearsal, miss. And then there was a big row.’
‘About?’ snapped Miss Cruet.
No one spoke.
‘I will impose a very severe punishment unless someone explains in the next ten seconds. Ten… nine… eight…’
Custard pointed at me. ‘Sh-she said she f-found her tw—’
I kicked her ankle. No way must Miss Cruet know about Silver.
‘OW! She k-kicked me, miss!’
‘Sorry,’ I muttered to Custard.
Miss Cruet grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the door. ‘Room of Reflection. One hour. And after that,’ she added ominously, ‘we will have words.’
I’d never felt so happy to be punished. I followed Miss Cruet as she plodded slowly up the stairs, every step using up precious seconds.
At last we climbed the spiral staircase. My ears strained to hear the church clock. Was it noon yet? I tried to see Miss Cruet’s watch, but it was upside down and back to front. Did it say five to twelve or five past? My heart was thudding unpleasantly. What if Silver was there already, waiting for me in the mirror? What if she turned away forever, just before I got there?
Hurry up. Please, hurry up.
Outside the Room of Reflection, Miss Cruet began jiggling the bolt. After what seemed like hours, she opened the door, pushed me inside and bolted it behind me.
My heart pounding, I ran over to the mirror, just as the church clock began to strike twelve.
TRUTH AND LIES
Miss Cruet’s footsteps faded down the stairs as I placed my palm against the mirror. The church clock finished striking twelve. My breath misted the surface of the glass. Any minute now, Silver would appear.
Only she didn’t.
The mist cleared, and there was only me in the mirror, my palm still pressed to the glass.
‘Silver!’ I cried. ‘I’ve come! I’m here!’
But there was no reply. Surely I hadn’t got the time wrong? Or the day? Maybe Silver was ill—or maybe…
Her last words to me ran, over and over, in my memory: ‘I thought I could trust you. It looks like I was wrong…’
My hand was no longer resting against the glass, but banging on it. I had to make her hear me. But then I remembered that if I broke the glass, I’d lose her forever—if I hadn’t lost her already—and my hand slid down to my side.
My reflection in the mirror wavered in the tears leaking out of my eyes and running down my cheeks. I blinked them away. My burn looked redder and uglier than ever. Who could blame Silver for changing her mind about me?
Then something moved in the mirror.
‘Silver!’
But it wasn’t Silver. The cabinet had appeared on the wall behind me, and the movement I’d seen was its door, slowly creaking open. I whipped round to face it. Inside the cabinet, its yellow eyes fixed upon me, perched the Bird.
‘So, missy,’ it croaked. ‘We meet again.’ And the foul smell crept about the room.
‘Where’s Silver?’ I said. ‘I was meant to meet her here, at noon.’
‘Think I don’t know it?’ said the Bird. ‘Think there’s anything about you I don’t know?’ It shuffled along its perch, and the smell got worse.
‘Please, then,’ I said, ‘tell me what’s happened to Silver?’
The Bird chuckled.
‘Come a little closer,’ it wheedled. ‘Else you might not catch what I have to say.’
Reluctantly, I stepped towards it.
‘Closer,’ it said, its head on one side.
Trying not to breathe in the smell, I moved nearer.
The Bird stared at me with its cruel yellow eyes. Its feathers were dull; one dropped down to the floor, spiralling in the air. It opened its beak and began to speak.
‘You want answers,’ it croaked. ‘About your twin. Is this correct?’
‘Yes,’ I whispered.
‘Speak up! Or I may give you answers to the wrong questions.’
‘Yes.’ I raised my voice. ‘I want to know what’s happened to Silver.’
‘Silver.’ The Bird gave an evil chuckle. ‘Such a pretty name. A pretty girl. Much prettier than you.’
I knew that, of course, but it still hurt. I waited for the Bird to speak again.
‘Silver is safe,’ said the Bird. ‘She has been delayed.’
‘But I will see her—soon?’
‘If you pass the next test.’
‘What is it?’
‘Not so fast, missy!’ The Bird poked around in its feathers as if searching for a flea. It stabbed its beak somewhere in its nether regions. Another feather floated down. Then it raised its head and stared at me.
‘First, I will give you your answers.’
‘But I haven’t asked—’
‘In the Room of the Mirror,’ said the Bird, ‘answers may come before questions.’
It suddenly launched itself from its perch, flapped its tattered wings, and landed on my shoulder. Its hoarse breath tickled my ear and I shuddered.
It laughed. ‘Doesn’t the ugly girl like the ugly Bird?’
I screwed up my toes to stop my feet from running away. The Bird laughed again, as if it knew what I was doing.
‘You want to know about the Shapeshifter, don’t you?’
I nodded. Silver must have sent the doves, just as I’d guessed. And she must have talked to the Bird, her guardian, about the message.
‘Come on, missy.’ The Bird’s talons dug deep into my shoulder, and I winced. ‘You already know the answer. There is only one among the freaks and the Nobodies who could be a Shapeshifter. Who growls and roars? Who claims his mother is a lion? Who cares more for his mane than for any living person?’
My tummy knotted up. I didn’t want it to be Feral, even though I knew it must be. The Bird suddenly grabbed my ear in its beak and twisted it.
‘Pay attention, missy! I have more answers for you. I warned you, did I not, about the Nobodies?’
I nodded reluctantly.
‘I warned you, yet you chose to ignore me.’ The Bird lowered its voice to a whisper. ‘This is my final warning. Ignore it at your peril. The boy is evil. But not nearly so evil as the man.’
‘What man?’
‘Felix Gold,’ spat the Bird.
Suddenly I wanted to stuff my fingers in my ears, like Custard did, so I wouldn’t have to listen to any more.
‘He tells you many tales, does he not?’
‘He… he tells me about the circus.’
‘Tales, missy, are not necessarily truths. Do you understand me?’
‘Mr Gold wouldn’t lie!’
I felt a sharp pain in my ear as the Bird tweaked it again. ‘Doubt my word, do you?’
I raised my chin defiantly. ‘Yes. I do doubt it. Mr Gold is good. He wouldn’t lie to me!’
‘Good as Gold, hey?’ The Bird winked its yellow eye. ‘Poor, trusting child. Tell me, has he spun you a pretty tale about his love for animals? About how he and his brother saved the poor little lion cub?’
‘He did save Kula!’
‘He stole her. He shot her mother and ran away in the dead of night, like the coward he is.’
‘Mr Gold is not a coward!’ I shouted. ‘He saved Kula from Merrick Murgatroyd. He—’
‘Lies! All lies! Liars have no conscience. The finest exterior can hide the deepest evil.’
‘I don’t believe it! It’s you who’s lying.’
‘So, missy, you’re calling me a liar?’
The Bird suddenly leapt from my shoulder and began to flap around the room, its wing tips slashing at my face, hissing words at me.
‘He’s a liar… a thief… a coward…’
I covered my head with my hands. I couldn’t think straight with all the hissing and the flapping. The only thing I was sure of was that the Bird was
wrong. Mr Gold was none of these things.
‘And a murderer—’
‘NO!’ I shouted. ‘Mr Gold didn’t murder Mabel. It was Murgatroyd!’
‘Never mind the old lion,’ hissed the Bird. ‘Felix Gold has killed far, far worse than she.’
‘Who, then? Who did Mr Gold murder?’
The Bird landed on my shoulder once again. It cackled, and I nearly passed out with the smell of its breath. Then it leant to my ear and whispered.
‘He murdered his very own family.’
My legs almost gave way with shock; my mouth opened and closed like a goldfish’s. No words came out. Then, with all my strength, I shoved the Bird off my shoulder.
With much flapping and hissing, it flew back into the cabinet and perched there, glaring at me with its yellow eyes.
At last, my voice came back.
‘I don’t believe it! Leonora and Fred and their children died in a fire—the fire Murgatroyd set.’
‘And who ran away and left them to die? Felix Gold!’
‘No! Mr Gold ran into the tent to save them!’
‘So he says,’ whispered the Bird. ‘Why, then, did he alone survive the fire? Why was he the only one who got out alive?’
‘I… I don’t know.’
‘I told you, did I not, that he’s a coward?’
I said nothing.
‘Felix Gold murdered the way that all cowards do. He murdered by running away. He ran, and left his family to perish.’
‘He wouldn’t do that! I know he wouldn’t.’
‘Did he tell you that he tried to save his family?’
‘I… No, he didn’t.’
I remembered how Mr Gold had stopped. How he’d refused to tell me the rest of the story. A horrible, niggly, shivery feeling was moving about inside me. It made me want to cry. What if I’d been wrong all along about Mr Gold? What if I couldn’t trust him after all?