The Four-Fingered Man (6 page)

Amelia didn’t even bother to say ‘shut up’ this time.

They walked past several more doors until they came to the room Miss Ardman was using.
Amelia knocked quietly. There was no response.

‘Housekeeping!’ squealed Charlie in a piercing falsetto voice, pounding on the door
with his fist.

‘Be quiet!’ whispered Amelia, her voice shrill with fear. But when no-one answered,
she had to admit, she was glad Charlie had checked properly.

‘She must be still outside,’
said Charlie. ‘It’s safe to go in.’

Amelia gripped the key. She told herself they
had
to do this, that Mum and Dad were
so convinced Tom was trustworthy, the only way they were going to convince them otherwise
was if they had some hard evidence he was up to … well, whatever he was up to.

She took a deep breath, and unlocked the door.

Inside, the room was empty. It was better than a lot of the other rooms in this wing,
but still shabby, dusty and musty.

Amelia wondered again why anyone would come to stay in this dump.

‘Look at that,’ Charlie whispered, stepping past Amelia and into the room.

On the dressing table, where hairbrushes and vases of flowers would usually be, was
a small glass tank. Like a fish tank, but not for fish. This tank was filled with
enormous, glistening centipedes. The room was so quiet, Amelia could hear the sound
of their hundreds of legs as they crawled over one another.

She turned away, trying not to gag. ‘Just find the bag. Is it still here?’

Charlie didn’t answer. He was pacing towards the enormous canopy bed at the far end
of the room, a funny look on his face.

‘Do you feel that?’ he murmured.

‘Feel what?’ said Amelia, moving to join him. Then she paused, a strange sensation
washing over her as she approached the bed, like a gust of warm spring air. She glanced
over at the window, but it was shut tight.

‘It’s coming from here,’ said Charlie, crouching at the foot of the bed. He dragged
out Miss Ardman’s little case. ‘Wow – it’s warm. Touch it!’

Amelia knelt beside him and put a hand on the case. It was definitely warm. Whatever
was inside it was hot – or being heated. They hauled the case onto the bed and Amelia
felt her head spinning slightly, that strange warmth drifting over her again. Quickly,
she unzipped the case and threw back the top of it. A cloud of sweet, perfumed air
rose to the ceiling as they stared at what was inside.

‘Jewels!’ said Charlie breathlessly.

There were twenty or perhaps thirty shining globes, about the size of mandarins,
but perfectly round and golden. At first Amelia thought they were reflecting the
light that fell on them, but as she leant closer she realised that the jewels themselves
were shimmering – light was glowing from them.

She was too mesmerised to check Charlie’s face, but she heard him sigh. ‘Wow.’

Amelia leant even closer, so close the jewels warmed her cheeks.

She smiled with happiness just to see them. As she breathed in their delicious fragrance,
she was filled with a wonderful knowledge: that if she could touch one of those jewels,
just hold it in her hand for one moment, she would never feel sad, or lonely, or
worried, or angry again.

As she gently reached out her hand, the jewels seemed to reach back to her. They
wanted
to be with her. They wanted her to have them!

Amelia heard Charlie laugh with joy beside her. And then, as her fingers tingled
with anticipation, she suddenly felt a massive, vice-like hand seize her by the shoulder
and jerk her back from the jewels. It was so fast and rough that Amelia lost her
balance and fell to the ground in shock, blinking. Charlie stumbled and fell beside
her.

A voice, raw with anger and danger, roared over them, ‘
How dare you?
’

Once, Amelia had done a handstand in her grandparents’ living room and lost her balance.
As her feet came down, so did a very beautiful glass vase her granny had been given
for her sixteenth birthday. When Granny saw the smashed pieces all over the floor,
her face had gone white with shock and Amelia had felt so bad she wanted to die.

But that moment – with all the terrible sadness, guilt and shame that Amelia had
felt – was
nothing
compared to how bad this moment was. In fact, ‘moment’ didn’t
cover it. This nightmare seemed to go on forever.

First there was the utter shock of being sprung by Miss Ardman. Then that had turned
to a steady, throbbing terror as Miss Ardman started shrieking and wailing so hysterically
that Amelia was sure she’d gone mad.

But then, when Mum and Mary burst in to see what was happening, Miss Ardman had collapsed
into a sobbing mess on the floor, and Mary had taken over the shouting instead. Mostly
at Charlie, but Amelia knew she was included. Mary dragged Amelia and Charlie out
by the collars of their shirts, berating them all the way to Amelia’s room.

Amelia felt so remorseful, so humiliated and so, so
angry
– angry at Charlie for
talking her into it, and even angrier at herself for letting him.

Mary left them there, and went back to help Mum calm down Miss Ardman. It had taken
ages before the awful crying stopped. At last, Amelia’s door opened again and three
severe and disappointed parents came into the room.

‘Amelia,’ said Dad. ‘Mum and I are so shocked. What were you thinking?’

Amelia just shook her head. All the reasons that had made sense when she and Charlie
were talking seemed like nonsense now.

‘What you did,’ Mum said, ‘going into a guest’s room – our first guest! – well, I
only hope you understand how wrong it was. And
why
it was wrong.’

‘I do,’ Amelia whispered miserably.

‘I don’t,’ Charlie said.

Amelia stared at him.

‘I don’t,’ he repeated. ‘I mean, I know it wasn’t
right
, but was it really that big
a deal?’

Mary gaped at him. ‘You stole a key from the front desk, broke into a guest’s room
and went through her personal belongings. That’s a big deal!’

‘We only borrowed the key,’ said Charlie. ‘And we were just looking.’

‘For what?’ Mary asked. ‘And what gave you the idea you had any right to look in
someone else’s room, Charlie? That’s trespass!’

Charlie’s eyes widened. He obviously hadn’t thought of that. Amelia felt her own
shame deepen another notch – she’d committed a real crime. Not even James had done
something that bad.

‘Well,’ Dad twitched slightly, ‘I’m not sure we need to get the police involved
just
yet. But you do get it, don’t you, Charlie?’ Dad squatted down so he was eye level
with him. ‘We have to work together as a team if this hotel is going to run properly.’

Charlie fidgeted under Dad’s gaze.

‘Charlie?’ Mary snapped when he didn’t answer straight away. ‘Do you get it? Do you
know what Mr Walker is saying?’

Charlie looked at Amelia’s dad. ‘I think so.’

‘You’d better know so,’ said Mary. ‘He’s saying that if you can’t behave yourself,
we will be off the team, Charlie. I will lose my job. Do you understand
that
?’

Dad pulled back a little. ‘Well, uh, I wasn’t exactly … I’m not threatening …’

But Mary was staring hard at her son. If Dad wasn’t threatening, Mary surely was.
‘I’m not joking, Charlie,’ she said quietly. ‘I need this job.’

Charlie dropped his head and nodded.

Dad clapped him on the shoulder, and stood up. ‘It’s all good, Mary. I’m sure both
kids have got it straight now. We’ll be smooth sailing from now on.’

Amelia glanced at Charlie’s hunched shape, and some of her anger at him shifted.
Before she knew what she was doing, she heard herself say, ‘Well, what about Tom?’

‘What about him?’ said Mum.

‘Is he part of the team, too? Does
he
have to change his behaviour – because there’s
something up with him!’

Dad and Mum swapped awkward glances, and Amelia could swear they had both tensed
up.

‘What are you talking about, Amelia?’ Mum asked.

‘Tom’s up to something. We saw him breaking into Miss Ardman’s room!’

‘Which you so strongly disapprove of,’ said Dad, ‘that you decided to break in yourselves.’

Amelia blushed, but kept her chin up.

‘We were looking for proof of what Tom was up to. We think he’s a thief! We were
trying to prove it to you to protect the hotel.’

‘But you can’t stop a bad thing by doing that thing yourself,’ groaned Mum. ‘I thought
you understood that. Dad and I trust Tom, and yes – he’s part of our team. You might
not like him, and who knows? Maybe he doesn’t like you, but we have to work together.’
She took a deep breath, and said, ‘Right, we’ve made our point, I think. Now, when
Miss Ardman’s had a chance to recover, I’m going to take you to her, and you can
apologise for what you’ve done.’ She let out a sigh, and some of the hardness slipped
from her expression. ‘With any luck, we can smooth this whole thing over.’

The three parents left the room, closing the bedroom door behind them. Amelia and
Charlie stared glumly at each other, neither of them speaking.

Then suddenly, Charlie stood up straighter.

‘What?’ said Amelia.

‘Shh!’ hissed Charlie, jumping up from the bed. ‘Listen!’

He crept across the room and pressed his ear to the door. Amelia followed, and heard
Mum speaking in a hushed voice.

‘I told you it wouldn’t work,’ she said.

‘It will,’ said Dad. ‘There’s nothing to panic about.’

Amelia’s eyes narrowed.

‘The kids messed up,’ Dad went on. ‘In a kid way for kid reasons. Nothing’s changed.’

‘I agree,’ said Mary. ‘They’re worried about Tom; he’s the only issue here. It’s
Tom we need to sort out for them.’

Their voices were fading away now. Amelia heard footsteps creaking down the stairs,
and strained to hear as Dad said, ‘I’ll talk to him. Ask him to be more careful.
I really don’t want the kids finding out any …’

But his voice faded away, and Amelia couldn’t make out the rest. She turned to Charlie,
a chill snaking up her back. ‘Did you hear that?’

Charlie nodded mutely, and Amelia felt the cold sink deeper into her bones. Mum and
Dad
knew
what Tom was doing – and they were keeping it from her.

Whatever was going on, they were all in on it together.

‘I still think Miss Ardman was overreacting,’ Charlie said, as they walked home from
school the next day. ‘Get cross about kids in your room – fine. Yell a bit – whatever.
But
crying
for half an hour?’

‘Charlie …’ Amelia said warningly.

‘I’m just saying. It’s weird.’

Amelia knew it was weird – weird, and also awful, because she couldn’t forget that
the crying had been their fault. But she didn’t want to talk about Miss Ardman. Who
cared about Miss Ardman when she’d just found out she couldn’t trust her own parents?

You’re being stupid,
she told herself.
Mum and Dad are good people. If they’re keeping
a secret from us, that doesn’t mean they’re bad …

Unless Tom was blackmailing them into doing something.