Mumbersons and The Blood Secret, The (7 page)

‘No broken window, Billy,’ said Mr Khafoops. ‘If there was one, they have repaired it already.’

‘But I broke it!’ said Olivia, nearly breaking the cup she was drying as well.

Jerry said, ‘They couldn’t fix it overnight, Mahid. Too dark to see what they were doing. Who’d come after hours anyway?’

‘Perhaps they fixed it this morning?’ said Mahid.

‘Be lucky to get a tradesman to do it that quickly on a Saturday.’ He shook his head. ‘I know you don’t lie to me usually, Billy.’ Billy noticed his grandfather give him a warning stare. ‘But things don’t add up.’

‘We have nothing to take to the police,’ said Mr Khafoops.

Mrs Mumberson, still doing the dishes, sniffed. ‘We all know the
police
won’t believe anything out of the ordinary.’

‘You have to have evidence,’ said Jerry.

Olivia grabbed the tourniquet off the windowsill. ‘What about this? It’s the thing they tied round Billy’s arm.’

‘Pretty flimsy evidence, Olivia,’ said Jerry. She frowned severely at him. He paid no attention, and added. ‘You can’t go to the police with nothing.’

‘A boy’s word is
nothing
?’ asked Mrs Mumberson. ‘A boy who never lies?’ She took a plate from the sink and thrust it in the rack hard enough to almost break it in half.

‘Or a girl’s!’ said Olivia, reaching up to put the cup away, and missing the shelf. Mr Mumberson caught it as it dropped. ‘What’s your plan, Jerry?’ he asked. ‘Leave things lying where they are? Ignore Billy’s story?’

‘Of course not. But my hands are tied.’

‘Rubbish!’ said Mrs Mumberson, crashing a large bowl into the cupboard over the top of Olivia’s head.

‘Just like your hands are tied about us staying here,’ said Mr Mumberson, snapping on the electric jug to make himself another cup of tea. ‘Have you heard what he’s doing with us, Mr Ghefood?’

‘Khafoops,’ said that gentleman.

‘He wants to throw us out on the street,’ said Mr Mumberson, ignoring the correction. ‘His own parents.’

‘I’m not throwing you out on the street,’ said Jerry, his face flushed. ‘You need to find your own place, that’s all.’

‘This
is
our own place,’ said his mother, clattering teaspoons into the drawer and slamming it shut.

‘We went through all this the other night,’ said Jerry. ‘It’s not Mahid’s concern.’

‘Oh, I am quite happy to listen,’ said Mr Khafoops. ‘However loud you argue, it is never as loud as the noise of all my children.’

Olivia threw her tea towel on the bench. ‘Billy, show your Dad the text!’ Billy found the text on his phone. Olivia looked over his shoulder, nodding at Jerry because they
did
have proof.

Except there was no text. It had vanished. ‘I must have...deleted it by accident,’ said Billy, appalled. Olivia grabbed the phone and searched back and forth. There was nothing.

Jerry finished off his nearly cold coffee, in silence.

Billy was fed up with not being believed. ‘I’m going for a walk, Dad,’ he said. Which meant, of course, that Olivia would be going too. And the dog, who’d pricked up its ears at the word, ‘walk.’

Mrs Mumberson said, ‘I don’t think you should be going out without an adult, Billy.’

Billy was already halfway out the door. ‘It’s all right. We’ve got Stevedore to protect us.’ No one commented on the fact that Stevedore, being Olivia’s dog, would hardly be likely to protect anyone.

‘Stay away from the Factory!’ said Jerry, but Billy was already gone, with Stevedore and Olivia close behind.

‘Where are we going?’ asked Olivia, racing along beside Billy and the dog, which, though already panting loudly, was enjoying the run.

Billy didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure if what he was doing was such a good idea, especially as his father had told him not to go to the Factory. But he hoped he might discover something that would prove they weren’t lying.

Olivia quickly realised where they were headed. ‘How are you going to get in?’ she asked as they raced along avoiding people on the path, including skateboarders. Skittleton seemed to have an infestation of skateboarders these days.

‘I don’t know. Maybe the main gate will be open.’ They avoided the town this time, and ran straight along the crest of the hill. In the distance they could see three or four Ninja Chickens zipping between the cable cars, shouting at each other, their boards making a chock-thwunk sound as they flipped back onto the road. Their challenge was to make sure they didn’t get the wheels caught in the track, or worse, get hit by a car.

‘Wish I had a board,’ said Olivia, stopping briefly to look. Billy said nothing. He’d never learnt to skate; after too many bruises and scrapes he’d given up. They ran down to the bottom of Habitation Hill where the cable cars meandered up and down. The lower part was a gentle slope, so they carried on running. When they reached the boarders, they slowed down. Liam waved, missed his footing, caught himself again without worry, and carried on skating. ‘Where are you off to?’ he called.

‘The Factory,’ said Olivia, before Billy could warn her.

‘Ah. The Factory. I suppose Stevedore’s going to protect you?’ He laughed.

Hearing his name, Stevedore barked at Liam, then ran over to him. Liam leaned down and rubbed the dog’s head with both hands, hard enough to knock his ears off. Stevedore was so happy he jumped up and licked Liam’s face. Liam pulled back, grinning, and Stevedore ran backwards and forwards between the skateboarders, totally forgetting about Olivia and Billy.

They carried on running up the hill until it got too steep, and then walked as fast as they could manage. By the time they reached the Factory, they were puffing, and they stood near the gates to get their breath back. The gates were shut. ‘Now what?’ said Billy. He hadn’t worked out how they’d get in.

‘We could climb over the wall,’ suggested Olivia, looking as though she was about to scale it without further thought.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Billy, ‘How would you get up there? Anyway you’d fall off the top into the carpark.’ The wall was twice Billy’s height, though at least it wasn’t topped by barbed wire or chunks of broken glass, like some walls. But Billy didn’t want to try and climb it. At the best of times he wasn’t good at climbing, and he hated the thought of falling off something.

Olivia smiled. ‘Come with me,’ she said. ‘I know a better way.’

He followed her along the wall for two or three hundred metres. ‘Where are you going?’

They came to an area where several oak trees grew crammed up against each other and against the wall (the road bent around them). They leaned over the wall towards more oaks growing from the inside, and the ones on the inside responded by leaning back. Over many years, the branches from both sides had entwined with each other inseparably. Beneath the trees were dense bushes reaching up to the lower branches, making it look as though the wall vanished for several metres before appearing again further down the road.

‘I don’t think I want to climb trees either,’ said Billy.

‘You don’t have to,’ Olivia said. ‘I found something yesterday. It’s how I escaped, and then surprised you outside, at the gate.’ She pushed into the thick bushes with some effort, assuming Billy would follow. It was densely dark inside, and their eyes took a few moments to adjust. ‘Look!’ She pointed to the wall.

Gradually Billy made out a small, solid wooden door that someone had built into the wall, long ago. The wood was warped with age, and the lock had rusted away and dropped off. What remained of it was still lying on the ground. Olivia knelt down and pushed against the door. It resisted at first, then silently opened. The hinges weren’t rusty, unlike the lock. ‘Liam told me six months ago there was a door. I didn’t find it until last night. The skaters used to come through and use the carpark at weekends. Then they got too big to get through the door.’

Through the open door Billy could see more bushes growing; it was almost as dark on the inside as on the outside. Only a small amount of light filtered through from the midday sun. Olivia said, ‘Come on!’ She knelt down and pushed through.

Billy was cautious about going through the door, but Olivia had already vanished into the bushes on the other side. She’d go off and do something crazy if he didn’t keep an eye on her. Something
else
crazy. Then he realised that wasn’t fair: if she hadn’t done her crazy thing when he was in the Sick Bay, who knows what would have happened to him?

He whispered, ‘Wait up, Olivia.’ It was harder for him to get through since he was taller than her. The dry lower branches of the old bushes scratched his arms and caught his hair. After a good deal of shoving, he came out into the sunlight under the outermost oak, and stood blinking. Olivia stood behind another of the old trees; Billy guessed they were as old as the mansion, and must have been left to keep the door secret. He peered between two tough but younger branches to get an idea of where they were.

The original mansion, which now contained the Factory offices, was way over to their left. Almost opposite them was the new Extension Building. It had been put up in a hurry some years ago by the Factory’s former owner, the one who’d left so suddenly. To the disgust of people in the town the architect had made no effort to match it to the style of the grand old building. It was not only plain, but ugly. Drivers travelling around on the High Road, which ran along the hill on the other side of the property, and overlooked it, said the Extension was an eyesore, and clashed with the beauty and design of the former mansion.

There were very few cars in the extensive car park to the left of Billy and Olivia because the morning shift had been cancelled. This meant there was little cover for them if they tried to run down towards the entrance to the old building. ‘I wonder if there’s a door at the back we can get in?’ said Olivia.

‘They’ll be security-locked,’ Billy replied. ‘If there’s no one working, the whole place may be locked up.’

Olivia looked up. ‘There are security cameras too. I didn’t think about that last night.’ She didn’t look worried. It might be fun to be filmed by a security camera.

But Billy imagined a security worker sitting in his office with dozens of screens, the same as you saw on TV or in the movies. The cameras would be filming different parts of the building and car park, as well as any children who happened to be where they shouldn’t have been. He searched for cameras on the Extension building.

Olivia pushed his head so that he was looking directly at a camera opposite them. It swivelled from side to side like someone watching a very slow tennis match. They stared at it until they’d worked out which area it
did
cover. It barely glanced in the direction of the trees before it moved towards the left or right, where it lingered much longer, as though it was very interested in what was happening at the back of the old gardens, or up towards the car park where Jerry’s car would normally be.

‘We’ve got five seconds,’ said Olivia, who’d been timing it on her watch.

‘That’s not much,’ said Billy.

‘It’s longer than you think,’ she replied. Next minute she scooted off towards the wall of the Extension building. When she got there she checked her watch again, putting her right hand up with a Stop sign to make sure Billy didn’t move before he should. She mouthed, ‘Wait!’

Billy’s heart beat faster. Olivia dropped her right hand and signalled for him to come with the left. He ran. As he reached her, he looked up above his head and saw the camera shift sluggishly to the opposite view. He’d made it.

‘Now what?’ he said.

‘I thought you knew what you were looking for,’ said Olivia, surprised.

‘I haven’t a clue. I don’t know where to start.’

‘Let’s check the skylight, then. I want to make sure it was really fixed.’ She immediately crept off to the right, towards the mansion and the main gates, keeping her back close to the wall. Billy followed, feeling a bit silly as he stepped along sideways like a crab. Olivia seemed to know where she was going. She must have had a look around last night while he was being taken downstairs. After a minute she whispered, ‘Here it is. These are the steps into the basement and the Sick Bay.’

Billy looked down into the room. It was barely lit. And empty. Olivia had dropped to her hands and knees on the steps to check the skylight. ‘You’d never know it’d been broken,’ she said. She touched the paint. ‘The paintwork looks as old as it did before. It’s not even wet.’

‘That’s weird,’ said Billy. He’d once helped his father repair a window he’d broken when he’d tried to force it open after some heavy rain. The putty had taken at least two days to feel dry, and it had been another weekend before his Dad could paint it.

They peered down into the room, but it was too dim to see anything useful. There was certainly no glass on the floor glinting in the sunlight. But of course that would be one of the first things his kidnappers would have cleaned up. Olivia reached over and touched the putty. ‘It’s dry. And flaky. Like it’s really old.’ She looked puzzled. ‘I
know
this is the window I broke.’

‘This isn’t helping. It’s making things more confusing,’ said Billy.

Olivia got up off her hands and knees. ‘We’ll have to look further,’ she said. ‘We must be able to find some clue.’

‘This isn’t a detective story in a book,’ said Billy, irritated. ‘It’s real. I was really scared last night.’