Authors: Poppy Inkwell
Alana Oakley
Copyright © Poppy Inkwell
First published 2015
Copyright remains the property of the authors and apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission.
All inquiries should be made to the publishers.
Big Sky Publishing Pty Ltd
PO Box 303, Newport, NSW 2106, Australia Phone: 1300 364 611
Fax: (61 2) 9918 2396
Email:
[email protected]
Web:
www.bigskypublishing.com.au
Cover design and typesetting: Think Productions
Printed in China by Asia Pacific Offset Ltd
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Creator: Inkwell, Poppy, author.
Title: Torment and trickery / Poppy Inkwell.
ISBN: 9781925275216 (paperback).
Series: Inkwell, Poppy. Alana Oakley ; no 2.
Target Audience: For 11 to 13 year old girls.
Subjects: Detective and mystery stories.
Dewey Number: A823.4
For five more reasons why the world is an extraordinary placeâ¦
Kylie, Kelvin, Stuart, Meg and Cailean
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
While editing this book I had a car accident. I was very lucky and walked away with only a broken arm and wrist. A couple of scenes in the book treat road accidents rather casually â I use humour as a tool and it is deliberately absurd and over-the-top â so allow me this opportunity to be serious for a minuteâ¦
Speed kills./Real mates don't let mates drink drive./ Be alert don't get hurt./Stop. Revive. Survive./ Drive now. Text later.
We all know the safety slogans and after being in a REAL accident I can tell you that there is NOTHING funny about them. So please, please, please, stay safe and where possible, keep your loved ones safe, too.
To this end, I'd like to
T
hank all of the extremely
H
eroic men and women of the police force and accident and emergency services. It takes real guts to turn up to work every day not knowing what strife people have gotten themselves into. As well, the
A
mazing orthopaedic doctors, nurses and surgeons of Nambour Hospital who kept me pain-free and then spent 5½ hours fixing my wrist â I'd give you a thumbs-up but we all know that radial nerve damage prevents me from doing it. Thanks in advance to the physiotherapists and osteopaths who will help me achieve that goal. Next, thanks to the
N
oble teachers who supported my family and I while I was incapacitated. My
K
indest friends and family deserve special mention also. All the wonderful people who helped me look after the children until their dad returned, Allison, Cheri, Jacqui, Jason and Todd, but most especially the Wilson family who took us in after the dreaded call: To Nick for his awful puns, to Kerri for taking it all in her stride, to Alice for her wicked humour (Q: How do you get Poppy out of a tree? A: Wave), to Sophia whose free spirit is a thing of wonder and beauty. And PJ for being PJ. Last, but not least, the
S
elfless strangers, those anonymous Good Samaritans who helped untangle my arm from the steering wheel, held my hand, kept me calm and convinced me that I'd look much cooler with my new scar. Thank you Bro âDreads', Dr âMoon' and Mrs âHeart' for being my guardian angels for the day.
THANKS!
The Shakespeare Rap. Copyright © 2014. William Brien. Reprinted with kind permission of William Brien.
CONTENTS
 | |
“And though she be but little. She be fierce ⦔ Shakespeare. | |
fate
/fe
Ä
t/
n. & v. ân.
1
a power regarded as predetermining events unalterably.
2 a
the future regarded as determined by such a power.
b
an individual's appointed lot.
c
the ultimate condition or end of a person or thing.
3
death, destruction.
4
(usu.
Fate
) a goddess of destiny, esp. one of three Greek or Scandinavian goddesses.
[The Australian Concise Oxford Dictionary, 1993]
PROLOGUE
Fate.
What did it
really
mean?
If Alana had worn blue laces instead of neon; if her bike had had a flat; or if she'd stepped in gum (the stubborn, sticky kind) and been delayed five minutes picking it off; then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have met the âtall, dark, mysterious stranger', as Sofia's cousin predicts. Or uncovered his secret â¦
Secrets ⦠sometimes they conceal something fiendish and deceitful, and other times something truly miraculous.
A thousand random moments. A thousand different choices. A thousand different outcomes.
Was it fate?
Alana didn't know, but she
did
know things were not always what they seemed.
Alana Oakley parked her bicycle in the grounds of Gibson High. A few older students, some of whom she didn't know, waved as they passed the girl whose long, normally dark flyaway hair contained a new streak of plum. It was tied back in a high ponytail with neon shoelaces. Alana smiled broadly, the dimples which she'd inherited from her father, Hugo, deepening in reply. It was great to be in Year Eight and no longer at the Bottom of the Food Chain. It also helped that last year Alana and her friends won the Original Song Contest, scoring tickets and backstage passes to see Slam Guru and Jet Tierbert, two of the world's hottest music acts. That she'd reportedly shown teen heart-throb Jet âa thing or two' on the guitar after the concert had set school tongues wagging and eyes agog.
“Lana!” three voices called out at once. Alana's dark ponytail swung in response and she broke into a grin. Alana's closest friends, Khalilah, Maddie and Sofia, bounced over to her. Khalilah, plumper than the other two, lagged slightly behind. Alana admired Sofia's new yin and yang pendant, even though it was hard to see amongst the plethora of lucky charms she still wore.
Maddie's sea-coloured eyes sparkled with good humour as she teased their friend. “I thought you'd given up all that superstitious stuff for Hard Science?”
Sofia flicked back her hair â now dreadlocks, dyed three different shades of purple â and laughed. “I already told you. It can't hurt, right? And with Coach Kusmuk for P.E., I need all the luck I can get.”
“I heard a rumour she was leaving the school,” Alana said hopefully.
“Not this year,” Sofia said with a crestfallen face. All the same, she gave her lucky Medallion of Hopeless Causes a determined rub.
The other girls groaned. Not Coach Kusmuk again!
Khalilah slung an arm around her friend's shoulders. “I've been thinking about that, Maddie, and I've got a great idea,” she began, but everyone was already shaking their heads an emphatic âNo'. They knew all about Khalilah and her Great Ideas. Who else would have thought of trapping last year's magic eight-ball thief with âunwet' water, drenching the P.E. teacher in the process?
“You know my cousin, Erin, the Psychic?” said Sofia. None of them did, but they nodded anyway. “She came over last weekend and said a tall, dark, mysterious stranger would be entering our lives,” she declared dramatically. Before Sofia could explain further, a group of girls in their year clustered around. Soon everybody was chatting animatedly about music, teachers and their timetable. Younger students stood on the fringes in awe.
The Year Sevens were soon herded away for a formal welcome by Gibson High's Acting Principal, Mr Turner. Alana and her friends remembered his speech from last year. No doubt the new batch of Year Sevens would also be urged to “explore, experiment and enjoy” by the rotund, rosy-cheeked man students good-naturedly dubbed, âSanta'.
A quick glance at the school calendar in their diaries revealed some striking differences to last year: âShakespeare Week' in April sounded intriguing, so did the new elective, âForeign Languages'. One thing that hadn't changed was the mid-year exams in July, which Alana hoped would not be too stressful. It looked like their game against the Soccer Academy was scheduled around the same time. With their new team they had a real shot at winning. Alana began mentally calculating how many soccer practice sessions they could fit in before the match.