The House of Puzzles (3 page)

Gerald adjusted the sling on his arm and followed after him. It was only five o’clock
in the afternoon, but the Scottish night had dropped over the camp like a sodden
blanket. Gerald stepped into the starless evening and shivered at the bite in the
air. The pack dragged on his shoulder and he grimaced. The injury still hurt from
his adventure a fortnight ago on the Swedish island of Ven when he had gone head-to-head
with a mercury-addled madman who thought he was a 450-year-old Danish astronomer.
Gerald shook his head at the memory. Since inheriting a fortune from his great aunt,
his life had become somewhat complicated.

He shouldered his pack more evenly and trudged down the path. Excited boys rushed
past him in search of their cabins. The girls were housed on the far side of the
camp, supposedly beyond the range of ‘strong emotions’. Soon Gerald found himself
alone, hauling his
pack into the night. Despite the cold and the twinges of pain,
a smile spread across his face. Ahead of him was the prospect of ten whole weeks
away from normal school, and away from his bizarre life. And the chance to spend
a whole lot of time with Ruby Valentine…

Oh yes, indeedy, on that count Dr Crispin was right. Gerald had no intention of squandering
this opportunity.

The path ahead turned to the left, skirting a grove of trees. Gerald reached the
bend, and suddenly everything went black. A bag was dragged over his head. Rough
hands grabbed him by the collar. Before he could do or say a thing, the world’s youngest
billionaire was crash-tackled to the ground and bundled into the trees, swept from
sight as if he had ceased to exist.

Chapter 2

White-hot pain flared in Gerald’s right shoulder. It felt like a branding iron had
seared into his flesh. His pack went flying as he was slammed onto the muddy ground,
jolting his injured arm. Lights burst inside Gerald’s eyes, a barrage of fireworks
detonating in his brain. A knee crushed into his chest, squeezing out whatever air
remained in his lungs.

Gerald tried to move but strong hands held him down. Another shunt on his shoulder
and he howled in agony.

Then a voice sounded in Gerald’s ear.

‘Do not go out for the Triple Crown.’

The voice was haggard, short of breath.

‘Do not go out for the Triple Crown or you’re dead.’

Gerald’s eyes popped open in surprise. In the dark he could barely make out the cloth
that shrouded his face. Gerald had been terrorised before. But this voice in his
ear, threatening his life, was truly astonishing.

It was a boy.

Gerald stopped struggling and lay back in the muck. The cold crept through his clothes
like a million burrowing ice worms.

‘D’you understand?’ The voice demanded an answer. ‘Do not try for the Triple Crown.’

Gerald nodded. But with his head inside a bag, his attacker could not see the response.

‘Well?’ The boy pushed harder against Gerald’s shoulder.

Gerald cried out. ‘Yes!’ Then he swore, a broad Australian curse that would strip
the paint from the back of a ute.

‘Good,’ the boy said.

Then the knee lifted from Gerald’s chest and the hands released his shoulders.

Gerald sat up and pulled the bag from his head. It took him a moment to realise it
was a pillowcase. He blinked to clear his vision and looked to a gap in the trees.
But, in the smudgy darkness of a winter’s evening, there was no sign of his attacker.

‘Someone seriously blindfolded you with this?’ Sam held up the pillowcase. It was
still soiled with mud and rotting leaves from Gerald’s roll in the mire.

‘Yep,’ Gerald said. ‘I couldn’t see a thing.’ The clatter of knives and forks on
plates rang around the cavernous dining hall where Gerald, Sam, Felicity and Ruby,
along with the rest of the year nine students of St Cuthbert’s and St Hilda’s, were
eating their evening meals.

‘But it’s got Hello Kitty all over it,’ Sam said. He screwed up his face. ‘Who threatens
somebody with a Hello Kitty pillowcase? It’s not natural.’

Felicity nibbled on a carrot stick and frowned at Gerald. ‘And you’re not going to
tell a teacher about this?’ she said. ‘This is just the type of bullying that Dr
Crispin was talking about. You could have rebroken your collarbone, or worse. Don’t
you agree, Ruby?’

Ruby held a forkful of macaroni cheese in front of her mouth and shrugged. ‘In my
experience, getting Gerald to do anything sensible is like trying to teach a monkey
to read or a crocodile to see reason. It doesn’t matter how much you tell him to
do the smart thing, he’ll just go ahead and do the boy thing. It’s genetic—it’s what
they do. Besides, as if anyone would actually kill him just for taking part in some
school camp challenge.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Felicity said. ‘He was attacked. He was threatened. He was—’

‘Blindfolded with a Hello Kitty pillowcase,’ Sam said, interrupting. ‘Do you really
think Gerald wants
everyone to know that he’s frightened of someone who attacked
him with a brushed-cotton pussycat?’

Felicity regarded Sam blankly. ‘You are kidding, aren’t you? He won’t report it because
it will somehow make him look like a bit of a wuss?’

‘Actually,’ Sam said, shoving a spoon-load of peas into his mouth, ‘it would make
him look a colossal wuss. A prize princess. He may as well dress in a lilac tutu
with matching tiara for the next ten weeks.’

Felicity looked to Ruby in exasperation, but Ruby just laughed. ‘It’s simple mathematics,
Flicka,’ Ruby said. ‘Boy equals stupid.’

Felicity turned her frustration back onto Gerald. He held up both his hands, as if
defending a punch. ‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked. ‘I have no idea who attacked
me. I didn’t see a thing.’

Sam leaned over and patted Gerald on the arm. ‘Is that because the nasty pussy cat
had his ickle wickle paws over your eyes?’

Felicity gave him a filthy glare. ‘You are not helping,’ she said.

Sam shrugged and took another mouthful of peas. ‘I’m just giving him a taste of what
to expect if he tells a teacher about this. He won’t be able to move for all the
purring and the meowing.’

Gerald cracked a smile. If he was honest with himself, his shoulder did not hurt
that much from his wrestle in the woods. The greater injury was to his pride. Besides,
he was quite enjoying being the subject of some pity. Not that Ruby was doing quite
as much pitying as Gerald would have liked.

‘I didn’t even recognise the voice,’ Gerald said. ‘All I can say for certain is that
it was a boy.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Or a really strong girl with a head cold.’

Ruby swallowed her macaroni cheese and gazed around the room of diners. ‘So who among
this lot would be so desperate to win the Triple Crown that they’d threaten your
life?’ she asked.

‘Apart from you, you mean?’ Gerald said.

Ruby gave him a ‘Who, me?’ look.

‘Don’t try to pretend,’ Gerald said. ‘I saw you when Mr Beare was talking about the
Triple Crown. You were ready to kick down the door. You’re not exactly hard to read,
you know.’

Ruby’s cheeks blossomed pink. ‘Maybe I might like to be the first to complete it,’
she said. ‘Maybe not. But I do know one thing, Gerald Wilkins.’ Ruby opened her blue
eyes wide and leaned in close to Gerald.

Gerald’s heartbeat ratcheted up a notch. ‘And what’s that?’ he said.

‘I’m not going to be beaten by some sooky boy wearing a Hello Kitty head-dress.’
Ruby flashed her fingernails and murmured, ‘Meow…’

Fortunately, Gerald’s response was drowned out by Sam and Felicity’s laughter.

Gerald adjusted his sling and stifled a wince at a
twinge in his shoulder. He looked
around the dining hall at the other campers, clustered on benches at long wooden
tables, scoffing their way through their first meal together. Someone in that crowd
had tackled him to the ground, covered his head in indignity and made some stupid
threat about—what?—a school camp scavenger hunt? Gerald shook his head. After all
he had been through over the past eight months, the stakes could not possibly be
any lower.

After dinner, the students split into groups of twenty for some get-to-know-you activities.
Gerald was more than happy that he and Ruby were in the same group as they and eighteen
others gathered in a cosy room lined floor-to-ceiling with bookcases. All the tables
and chairs had been pushed back and everyone formed a circle on a colourful Indian
rug on the floor.

A slender woman, her black hair cut in the style of a 1920s flapper, sat in the middle
of the circle and smiled at the students.

‘For those who don’t know me, I am Miss Davenport,’ she said. ‘I have been a teacher
at St Hilda’s for five years.’

A boy sitting opposite Gerald piped up. ‘What do you teach?’

Miss Davenport arched an eyebrow and peered across at the boy. ‘I teach young girls
how to become young ladies, part of which involves teaching them not to interrupt
people.’

The boy wriggled in his place. ‘But what if I don’t want to be a young lady?’ he
said, winking at his friend next to him.

Miss Davenport arched her other eyebrow. ‘And who might you be?’ she asked the boy.

‘I’m Charlie Blagden,’ he said, grinning.

‘Well, Charlie Blagden,’ Miss Davenport said, ‘if you agree not to interrupt me,
I’ll agree not to turn you into a young lady. Surgically, or otherwise.’

Charlie’s grin faded a touch, but he nodded nonetheless.

‘Excellent,’ Miss Davenport continued. ‘The next ten weeks will bring a lifetime
of memories. The people in this room will be your camp group for the term. We’ll
take classes together and do extra-curricular activities together. Now is the chance
to get to know a little bit about each other. I’d like each of you to introduce yourselves
to the group. Tell us who you are, one interesting thing about you and what you
want to achieve in life.’ She clapped her hands together and pointed to a blond boy
sitting across from Gerald. ‘You can start.’

Gerald had only been at St Cuthbert’s for a single term so he was yet to meet everyone
in his year level. But he knew the boy well enough by reputation alone.

‘I’m Alex,’ the boy said, casting his eyes around the circle. ‘Alex Baranov. But
I expect a few of you from St Hilda’s know that already.’ A knot of girls sitting
near Ruby started to giggle. Alex smiled at them. ‘An
interesting thing about me?
Well, my family owns a few oilfields in Siberia so I guess you could say we’re pretty
well off. In fact,’—he looked straight at Ruby and winked—‘we’re
really
well off.
Put it this way, my father’s a member of the Billionaires’ Club and they don’t invite
you to join that place just because you’re good looking.’ He paused for a moment
to comb his fingers through his hair. ‘Though, as luck would have it…’ The girls
next to Ruby giggled again. Alex tilted his head their way. ‘When I leave St Custard’s
I want to be just like my father: good looking and stupendously wealthy.’

He sat back with a satisfied grin.

Ruby leaned close to Gerald’s ear and whispered, ‘Ten whole weeks?’

Gerald smothered a smirk.

‘Thank you, Alex,’ Miss Davenport said. ‘That was very…revealing. Now, Ruby, you’re
new to Hilda’s this term. Let’s hear from you.’

Ruby propped onto her knees and clasped her hands in her lap. ‘Hello everyone,’ she
said. ‘My name is Ruby Valentine and I’ve only been at St Hilda’s for a week. I was
at school in London before, but I’m really enjoying my time so far. I love gymnastics
and I’m going to try everything I can to be the first person to achieve the Triple
Crown—whatever it is we’re supposed to do.’

‘That’s terrific, Ruby,’ Miss Davenport said. ‘And what do you want to achieve after
you leave school’—she cast a glance at Alex—‘other than being rich
and good looking.’

Alex chucked his chin towards Ruby. ‘She’s halfway there already,’ he said. The girls
next to Ruby sniggered.

Ruby blushed deeply and stared at the rug in front of her knees. ‘I’m not sure what
I want to achieve just yet,’ she said, ‘but whatever it is, it will be something
I do through my own efforts, not something that’s been handed to me by someone else.’

Gerald looked across to Alex. The smug grin had frozen on the boy’s face like a death
mask. His eyes never left Ruby. ‘That’s a bit rich,’ Alex said at last, ‘coming from
someone whose boyfriend inherited everything that he’s worth.’

A crisp silence settled on the room, like a frost over an apple orchard. Miss Davenport
narrowed her eyes on Alex Baranov and was about to rebuke him when Ruby spoke up.
‘Three things,’ she said, directing her gaze straight at Baranov. The boy cocked
his chin and returned the icy glare. ‘First,’ Ruby said, ‘Gerald is not my boyfriend,
though he is possibly my best friend. Second, he is worth more than any sum of money
that even someone as shallow as you could possibly dream of. And third, shut your
stupid face.’

The group burst into hysterics, with most of the girls loudly applauding Ruby. Alex
Baranov’s cheeks burned red, making his ice-blue eyes glow even brighter.