Invisible! (14 page)

Nothing much happened for a few days after the barbie. Saturday they all slept late. Sunday they discussed what they should do about Kippax and decided gloomily that there wasn't much they
could
do without proof. Conrad's bandage came off on Tuesday. Thursday night Charlotte brought Teresa Walsh's jotter to prove Split le Beau
had
visited his old school, and then it was Friday. Friday's always the best day at school, but this one was going to be really special.

While the children were at lunch a blue van came nosing into the yard. On its side in white letters were the words
ROBERT KIPPAX – JOINERY &
GENERAL PROPERTY REPAIRS
. Kippax senior was an old pupil of Inchlake School, and the van called about once a month to drop off a sack or two of nogs and offcuts the children could use in Design and Technology. When he saw the vehicle arrive, Mr Beecroft strode into the dining area and chose four volunteers to carry the wood into the DT store. One of these volunteers was Rosie.

The driver was sliding sacks out of the back of the van and dumping them on the tarmac. Rosie was relieved to see it wasn't Kippax himself, but one of his workers.

‘Right.' The Bee organized his posse. ‘Two to a sack. Four sacks. That's two journeys each.
Don't
try to carry one by yourself – there are no Arnold Schwarzeneggers at Inchlake School.' The volunteers tittered dutifully. The Bee smiled at the driver. ‘Thanks. And thank Mr Kippax for me, will you?'

‘I will. Tarra.' The man swung himself into the cab and drove off, anxious to be clear of the yard before the kids came swarming out.

Rosie's partner was Carl Foxcroft. She'd tried to team up with the other girl, but The Bee had suggested girl-boy pairs and he was the boss.
Carl smiled nastily as they lugged their burden through a side door. ‘You wanna take this lot home, gipsy. Make a lot of clothes-pegs, this would.'

‘We don't do pegs, you moron, and we're not gipsies.' She eyeballed him. ‘
You
could use it though – fill that empty space between your ears.'

As they dumped the heavy sack on the floor it collapsed sideways, spilling a few nogs. Rosie squatted and scooped them up. As she went to tip them back in the bag, she saw a strip of gold-painted wood sticking out. It was pretty, with a pattern of curly leaves glistening along its length. She pulled it out. It was about a metre long. At either end was a short, ungilded section cut at an angle. It reminded her of…

‘What is it?' Carl Foxcroft peered at the strip.

Rosie shrugged, though her heart was racing. ‘Dunno. Nice though, isn't it? Think I'll have it.' She straightened up.

The boy leered. ‘I'll get you done.'

Rosie stared at him. ‘You've got a short memory, Foxy. Remember that day on the field?'

‘What day? What you on about, gipsy?'

‘Oh come
on
– you remember. Clothes,
walking by themselves?
'

‘Oh … yeah.' He looked uncomfortable, as though he'd been reminded of something he'd rather forget. ‘What about it?'

‘
This
about it, moron.' She thrust her face into his. ‘That stuff's nothing – absolutely
nothing
, compared to what'll happen if you grass me up to The Bee. You got that?'

‘Uh … yeah. Yeah, OK.'

‘It
better
be OK.' She hid the gilded strip in a corner, right at the back of the store where it was dark. She leaned it against the wall behind a stack of cardboard boxes. The place wasn't kept locked. She could slip back later and get it.

She smiled to herself, going back for the second load.
I could be wrong I suppose, but I think that strip's what we've been waiting for. I think we've got our proof
.

Bob Kippax was agitated. He kept coming outside, glancing around and going back in the Portakabin which served as his office. After a bit he called across the yard to a young man in overalls who was stacking new timber. ‘Where's Leonard gone with the van, Malcolm?'

The young man slid a board onto the stack and turned. ‘It's the first of the month, Mr Kippax. He's down the school with the offcuts.'

‘Ah, right. Where did he take 'em from, d'you know?'

‘Well – all over, I suppose, same as usual. I mean, this delivery had just come in so I wasn't taking much notice. Why?'

Kippax ignored the question, gesturing towards a dilapidated shed. ‘Did he take anything out of there?'

‘He might have. Like I say, I wasn't watching him. I was busy.'

‘OK.'

He was halfway up the office steps when he heard a motor. The van swung into the yard. He waited while the driver parked and got out. ‘Leonard?'

‘Yes, boss?'

‘The stuff for the school. Did you get any of it from the shed?'

‘A few bits, yeah.'

‘Any
old
stuff?'

‘Don't remember, could've been. Why – is something up?'

‘The frames from those flipping pictures're in the shed, only there's a piece missing. You've not taken
that
to the school, have you?'

Leonard shook his head. ‘Don't think so, boss, but I couldn't swear to it.'

‘You couldn't
swear
to it?' Kippax glared at the hapless driver. ‘You know what'll happen if you have and somebody spots it, don't you?'

‘Sure, boss, big trouble. Want me to go back there and check?'

‘Oh yeah. What you gonna say?
Excuse me Mr Beecroft, d'you think I could take a look at those off-cuts I brought just now – I might have put stolen property in by mistake?
No.' He continued up the steps. ‘You've screwed up enough for one day, Leonard. Get back to your work. I'll sort it.' He went in the office and picked up the phone.

First period after lunch one of the little kids knocked on the classroom door and came in. ‘Please, miss, can Lee Kippax go to the office? He's wanted on the phone.'

Miss Blackburn sighed. ‘Yes, all right. Off you go, Lee, but don't be all afternoon.'

‘Hello?' The school secretary had left the office to give him privacy.

‘That you, Lee?'

‘Dad. What's up?'

‘Listen. Do you know where they keep the wood?'

‘What wood?'

‘The wood I send round for CDT or whatever they call it nowadays.'

‘Oh, yeah. The DT store. It's sort of round the side of the …'

‘I don't want to know how to
find
it, you dummy. Can you get in there?'

‘Well yeah, but…'

‘It's not locked?'

‘No.'

‘Right. Get yourself round there,
now.
Leonard's just dropped a load off. Four bags. I want you to search 'em. You're looking for a piece of picture frame, gilded, about a metre long. You got that?'

‘Yes, Dad, but I can't go now. We're in the middle of Geography.'

‘I don't care if you're in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, you cretin. Get round there and find that wood, unless you want to be visiting me in jail.'

The prospect of seeing his father locked up for a year or two appealed to the boy, but he was a dutiful son. ‘I… I'll do my best, Dad. Tarra.' He hung up.

I
can't
go now. Old Blackbum'd come looking for me. She'd think I was either dodging her lesson or
nicking from the store. Both, probably. I'll go at half three.

‘Finished?' asked the secretary as Lee emerged.

‘Oh – yes, miss. Thanks.'

‘Not trouble at home, I hope?'

‘No, miss.' He returned to the classroom.
Dad's trouble is, he panics. Never get anywhere if you panic.
He picked up his pencil, made a dot in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and smiled.

Me.

Half past three. The moment Miss Blackburn dismissed the class, Rosie headed for the DT store. She'd just slipped inside and pulled the door to behind her when it opened again to admit Lee Kippax. He scowled at her.

‘What's your game, gipsy?'

Rosie looked at him. ‘What's yours?'

‘The Bee sent me to tidy up in here.'

‘Oh. Well, I was just looking for something.'

‘What?'

‘Doesn't matter, it's not here. See you.' She slipped past him.

Blast! Now what do I do?
She went out into the yard.
The Bee never sent him, he's after that bit of
wood. That's why he was wanted on the phone. Our bit of proof's about to disappear.

She glanced around, hoping to spot Peter or the twins among the departing pupils but it seemed they'd already gone. All she could think to do was hide behind the bike shed and watch the door till Lee came out. Maybe he wouldn't find what he was looking for.

He didn't. At a quarter to four he emerged empty handed, looking glum. Rosie's heart soared.
You can't hide a metre of wood in your pocket, but I can't
believe
he missed it.
She watched as the boy trailed disconsolately out of the yard, then slipped back inside.

It was there, in the corner where she'd propped it. She grabbed it, peeked round the door to make sure no cleaner was about and left the building, intent on catching up with Peter and the twins. She was in such a hurry that she jogged right past the phone box without noticing that Lee was inside, and that he'd clocked her.

As Rosie approached the phone box, Kippax senior was blasting his son's eardrum. ‘OF
COURSE
SHE WAS LOOKING FOR THE SAME THING AS YOU, YOU DAFT LITTLE GROMMIT. SHE'S PROBABLY IN THERE RIGHT NOW SHOVING IT IN HER …'

‘Dad!' The boy goggled through the glass. ‘You're
right
, she's just gone past with it in her hand.'

‘WELL WHAT YOU
WAITING
FOR, YOU PILLOCK? GET
AFTER
HER – GET IT OFF HER. GO
ON
!'

‘OK, Dad. I'm off.' Lee slammed down the handset and burst from the kiosk. Rosie was
disappearing round a curve, pumping the bit of frame up and down like a relay runner with the baton. He raced after her.