The Kneebone Boy (28 page)

Dr. Azziz was short and dumpy. He had very pretty white teeth and apart from pockmarked skin—which always looks so sinister but, if you think about it, simply means that the person was probably a very spotty, unattractive teenager—he was not the slightest bit terrifying. He arrived in the courtyard soon after Casper, tipped off by a nurse who had spied the Hardscrabbles. Dr. Azziz had looked at the stunned and confused face of Casper and then at the confused and stunned faces of the Hardscrabble children.

“Would you like a nice, quiet place to chat with the children, Mr. Hardscrabble?” he asked.

Dr. Azziz recognized a giant muddle when he spotted one, and giant muddles are best tackled in nice, quiet places.

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea,” Mr. Hardscrabble said faintly. He turned to his wife and handed her the hatbox. Then he bowed.

“Excuse me, Your Highness,” he told her, “but with your permission I need to confer with . . . with the other advisors just now.”

Tess Hardscrabble waved away his appeal. “Of course, I understand.” She turned her eyes on her children and smiled so sweetly at them that they wanted to run straight into her arms. Max was the only one who actually did, though. He threw his arms around her waist and pressed his head against her chest. She just stood there, her arms at her side, not moving.

If you don’t hug him back, Mum, Lucia thought, I will hate you forever, I will hate you forever, I will hate you forever!

Tess’s arms slowly lifted and then, as though she were afraid she would hurt him, she gently wrapped them around her youngest child. A tiny sigh came from Casper, but whether it was of relief or sadness or joy, no one will ever know.

They stayed that way for a long time until Tess finally drew back, her hand stroking Max’s hair (oh, Lucia remembered how wonderful that felt!).

“You will all come back and visit me again,” Tess told them. “This palace is not as luxurious as the palace at Juwi, of course. The gardens are not so large, the views are not so beautiful. And of course, there are no peacocks. You do remember my peacock, don’t you?”

Otto, Lucia, and Max all nodded.

Tess smiled again, satisfied. Then she turned and stepped back into the fountain, climbing the angel to the tippy-top and grabbing her egg on the way.

The Hardscrabbles followed Dr. Azziz into the hallway and up three sets of stairs to his office. It was all lovely with caramel-coloured walls and chocolate-coloured armchairs and a huge messy desk. Dr. Azziz offered Casper his desk chair and Otto, Lucia, and Max sat in the chocolaty chairs.

“Before I leave,” Dr. Azziz said, “I would love to know how you children managed to sneak into the castle.”

They told him. They didn’t need to exaggerate a single thing, either. At the end Dr. Azziz whistled in appreciation.

“Extraordinary,” he said.

Casper, however, was not so impressed. He had regained his composure somewhat, and now his eyebrows mashed together as he said, “I can’t believe Haddie let you go. That was completely irresponsible of her.”

“She didn’t know that we were going,” Max said, which we all know is a bold-faced lie, including Casper.

“She most certainly did!” Casper shot back. “When I arrived this morning and asked her where you all were, she told me you were ‘storming the castle.’ Called you her ‘brave knights,’ or some such rubbish. I honestly think the woman is completely mental.”

Considering that they were sitting in the Snoring-by-the-Sea Psychiatric Hospital (they found that out later,
of course), this was probably not a stellar choice of words. Still, Dr. Azziz patted Casper on the shoulder, smiling very kindly.

“Well, it’s all come out right in the end, Mr. Hardscrabble,” Dr. Azziz said brightly. “Let’s focus on that.”

He left them alone then. For a full minute there was utter silence in the room. No one knew where to begin. It was Lucia who asked the first question.

“So has Mum been here the whole time, ever since she went missing?”

Casper stared down at his fingers, which were nervously rolling a pen back and forth on the desk. “Well . . . not the whole time. When she first went missing, I honestly didn’t know where she was. She was just . . . I woke up one morning and she was gone. It was awful. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces that morning.” He looked up at them for a moment, as if he were worried that what he’d said was too personal, before looking down at the pen again. “I looked everywhere for her. I was terrified she had done something violent to herself. I knew she wasn’t well, even back then, though I tried not to admit it. When I couldn’t find her on my own, I hired a private investigator and he was the one who finally found her. She was sitting at the top of a fountain in Regent’s Park in London, telling passersby that she was the Sultan of Juwi. I brought her to different hospitals—good hospitals with good reputations—but she was miserable at all of them. They pumped her body full of medication. They tried to convince her that she was Tess Hardscrabble, not a sultan. I did too.
I wanted my Tess back so badly. I still do.” He pressed his hand against his mouth for a moment before going on.

“Then I heard about this hospital. It seemed like the right place for her. A place where they’d let her be who she felt she was—the Sultan of Juwi.” Casper looked up at his children as if to gauge their reaction.

“Does she know who we are?” Max asked after a moment.

Casper thought about this before he answered. “It’s hard to say. I believe she knows that she loves us. And today, when she was with you three, there was something in her eyes so like the old Tess that I nearly . . .” He shook his head quickly as if to rid himself of a thought. “No, Max. I don’t think she
really
knows who we are.”

“And all the other people . . . the patients in the courtyard,” Lucia said. “Why did you tell us they were royals?”

“So you knew the Duchess of Hildenhausen was Harriet, did you?” he said. He was clearly more chuffed than embarrassed about the lie. “Well, the funny eye gave it away, I suppose. But Prince Alexei? Without his beard even. I suppose the likeness was quite good . . .” He stopped smiling when he saw his children’s solemn faces staring back.

“Yes, well.” Casper cleared his throat. “All those times I went to visit your mum . . . well I had to explain it somehow, didn’t I? And painting royal portraits seemed like such a beautiful lie.”

“But it was
all
a lie,” Lucia said angrily. “Why? Why did you hide the truth about Mum all these years? It wasn’t fair, Dad, it wasn’t right.”

This, of course, was the question that Casper had been dreading and the one he knew that his children would, one day, ask him. He’d never imagined that the day would come so soon, though.

“I kept meaning to tell you . . . ,” he stammered.

“Well, what good is
that
?” Max stormed at him. “All this time we might have known her. We might have visited her. We might have—”

“Did
you
know?” Lucia asked Otto suddenly.

They all looked at Otto, including Casper.

Otto said nothing at first. Then slowly, hesitantly, his hands began to move. “I didn’t know where she was. But I knew there was something wrong with her. I remember when she began to change. All the strange things she did and said. And then she’d become herself again for a while, so you’d think you had imagined it all.”

“
Did
he know?” Casper looked to Lucia for a translation. “I was never sure.”

Otto nodded at his father and Casper buried his head in his hands.

“It was massively wrong of you to keep it from us, Dad!” Lucia said.

“I know.”

“Beastly selfish!”

“I know it was,” Casper groaned miserably. “Every year I’d say to myself, this is the year I’ll tell them. They’re old enough now. They can surely handle it. But just as I was about to sit you all down and tell you, I’d always become
afraid that if I did . . . if I told you . . .” He stared at them helplessly, at a loss for words.

Ironically, it was Otto who found the words for him:

“He was afraid that if he told us about Mum, it would have made it all true.”

The Hardscrabble children have many faults, I don’t have to tell you that. But they have several very fine qualities as well and one of them is that they have a deep appreciation of how frail all human beings are, especially when it comes to the people they love. Also, they nearly always try to avoid stepping on ants when they can help it and they hardly ever drink straight from the milk container.

“I suppose we understand,” Lucia said.

“Really?” Casper looked at all his children.

They all nodded, and Casper shook his head in wonder that such a gigantic muddle could have turned out so well, all things considered.

Right at this moment I could make a very happy ending. Mr. Dupuis says that it’s best to end on a happy note.

Still it feels like there is more to say so I think I’ll just carry on a little longer. Anyway, I am beginning to question if Mr. Dupuis really knows what he’s talking about. I don’t believe he’s ever written a book, he only reads them, and writing them and reading them are very different things as I’ve come to find out.

“Look at the time,” Casper said, checking his watch. “We’ll have to get started if we’re going to catch the two-fifteen train.”

“The train?” Lucia said, feeling suddenly quite deflated. “Back to Little Tunks you mean?”

“Well, where else?” Casper said.

“I don’t know . . . ,” Lucia said, frowning. “It just feels too soon. It feels like . . .”

“Like something more should happen,” Max finished for her.

“And what about Haddie? We have to say good-bye to her at least,” Lucia said.

“Oh, right. Haddie.” Casper sighed, as if just saying her name exhausted him, and he reluctantly pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. “She asked me to give you this. I hate to think what it says. She’s an odd one, that Haddie.”

“Good odd,” Lucia said as she reached for the envelope. Otto got it first though and he tore open the envelope, which was carefully sealed. The letter inside was written on the same light blue paper as her letter to Casper had been. The Hardscrabble children pulled their chairs close together and read it. Here is what it said:

Dear Otto, Lucia, and Max,
in no particular order,

Congratulations! If you are reading this it means that you are not dead, decapitated, or
otherwise mortally wounded. It also means that you have probably met your mother. She’s terrific, isn’t she? Yes, I know she’s mad as a hatter but she is still the most dazzling person I’ve ever known. And somewhere deep, deep down, she remembers all three of you. Why else would she have slipped out of the hospital when she spotted Lucia and Max on the siege tower (I was positive you’d go up there when I expressly told you not to. I would have done exactly the same and we are related after all)?

Now listen, there’s nothing I hate more than weepy good-byes, so don’t bother coming back to the folly because I won’t be there. But I did want to tell you this. You might be feeling disappointed right about now because you have faced dark tunnels and high cliffs and grave danger, yet nothing has changed. You are still the Hardscrabble kids who live in Little Tunks with their dad and not their mom. Though you have risked life and limb, you still have to clip your toenails every so often. Your lives will feel pretty blechhy for a while. All heroes feel that way after their adventure is over. But not to worry. You’ve had a big adventure before the age of fourteen, and now your lives will never be the same. Adventure is addictive, my friends. Before long you’ll find some other way to risk your necks. Poor old Casper!

This won’t be the last time we see each other (again, poor old Casper!). I have become very fond of the folly and Snoring-by-the-Sea and even of Saint George (we shared five packages of strawberry Twizzlers and seven packages of Ring Dings while we were waiting for your return. I even got him to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and he didn’t gag but I think he was just being brave). I plan on renting the folly at Christmas and again next summer and you can stay as long as you like. The Sultan of Juwi would be overjoyed. So would I.

You will find Chester in a cat carrier at the train station, being tended to by the guy at the ticket booth, who was feeding him salt-and-vinegar crisps last I saw. So heads-up for some unpleasant smells on the way back to Little Tunks.