Invisible! (15 page)

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Authors: Robert Swindells

BOOK: Invisible!
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At first he did well because the girl didn't know she was being chased. She jogged up the road, swerving through kids dawdling homeward, expecting any minute to see Peter and the twins in front of her. Lee, going full pelt, was closing the gap. Then, when he was no more than twenty metres behind, some daft kid swerved into his path and they collided. ‘Hey!' cried the startled child. ‘Why the
heck
can't you watch where you're going?' Normally Lee would have taken time out to flatten him, but Rosie had heard the kid's cry and glanced back. As soon as she saw Lee she knew what he was after and put on a spurt. Raised in the country, she could run like a hare. In seconds the gap had widened to thirty metres, then forty, then fifty. The thought of what his dad would do to him if he let the gipsy get away acted as an accelerator to Lee, who pounded after her.

Rosie was lean and fit but Lee was desperate and she couldn't shake him off. She was blowing hard and getting a stitch in her side when she saw Peter and the twins ahead.

‘Hey, wait!' They recognized her voice and turned. Rosie lolloped up to them, gasping. ‘This.' She held out the gilded wood. ‘Proof, I think. Off up the Manor … make sure. Grab
him.
' She jerked her head towards Lee, who had spotted her in company and slowed. ‘Give me a start, OK?' She staggered on.

Lee swerved into the middle of the road to avoid them. They spread out to block him and he ran roaring at Carrie, thinking she'd chicken out. She didn't. As he charged her she lowered her head and rammed him in the pit of his stomach. He collapsed onto his knees, hugging his middle while his face turned purple. As he toppled sideways the two boys threw themselves on him, pinning him to the ground. Carrie glanced up the road. Rosie was well clear but limping. They'd need to hold Lee for a minute or two but it wasn't a problem. Badly winded, the bully lay spread-eagled like a dead starfish under Con and Pete. She'd just permitted herself a faint smile when she heard the sound of a motor moving at speed. A blue van came zooming up the road and screeched to a halt. The driver's door was flung open. Bob Kippax emerged looking murderous. He strode towards them.

‘GERROFFIM! LERRIMUP!' The two startled boys rolled off their victim as his father stormed towards them. Lee sat up, wrapped his arms round his stomach and rocked. Kippax glared down at him without sympathy. ‘Where's that bit of wood, you useless lump – don't tell me you didn't
get
it?'

‘I … she ran off, Dad.'

‘She's a GIRL, you plonker. Girls don't
run
, they flap about. Which way's she gone – where does she
live
, for Pete's sake?'

‘She's not gone home,' blurted Peter. ‘She's …'

‘SHUT IT, PETE!' This from Carrie.

Peter clapped a hand to his mouth. ‘S … sorry.'

Kippax eyeballed him. ‘Where
has
she gone, boy? Spit it out or I'll shove two fingers up your nose and pull an eyeball down.'

‘I … I dunno, Mr Kippax.'

‘Yes you do. I bet it's the
police station
, isn't it?'

‘No.'

‘Good.' The man smiled tightly. ‘So what does
that
leave?' He frowned, thinking.

Peter and the twins started backing away, ready to run. Lee had risen to his knees and was knocking dust off his uniform. He gave his father a sulky look. ‘Bet
I
know where she's off to.'

Kippax senior glanced at his son. ‘Come on then, Einstein – enlighten us.'

‘What – in front of
them?
' Lee nodded towards the three children.

Kippax glared at them. ‘Make yourselves scarce NOW, or I'll report you for assault. GO ON!' He watched as they pelted up the road, then turned to his son. ‘OK – where? And
do
get up out of the dirt, you boneless twit.'

Lee clambered to his feet. ‘That bit of frame – it's off a painting, isn't it? One of those nicked from the manor.'

‘'
Course
it is. Why else would I care if someone got hold of it? Where's she
gone
with it?'

‘Up the Manor.'

‘The
Manor?
What the heck
for?
'

‘To make sure.'

‘Make sure of
what
, you prawn?'

‘To make sure it
is
off one of the Turners. She'll show old Miss whatsername – Massingberd – then take it to the police.'

The man's eyes narrowed. ‘D'you think so? D'you think she's that smart – a ruddy
gipsy
?'

‘She's not a gipsy and she
is
pretty smart. I'd bet a year's pocket money that's where she's gone.'

Kippax chuckled unpleasantly. ‘You just
did
, sunshine. Come on.' He strode towards the van.

They ran till Lee, his father and the van were way behind. When they stopped, panting and swiping sweat from their foreheads, Conrad gasped, ‘D'you reckon Lee
does
know where Rosie's gone?'

Peter shrugged. ‘Dunno. His dad called him Einstein, but Frankenstein's more like it.
I
don't see how he could know.'

Carrie pulled a face. ‘He might
guess
though, and I wouldn't want to be Rosie if he does. I think we'd better get up there in case she needs help.'

Peter looked at her. ‘How could
we
help, Carrie? You saw what old Kippax is like when he's mad. We need the police.'

Carrie sighed. ‘Yes, Pete, I
know
we need the police, but the police need evidence and
we
haven't got it –
Rosie
has. We're
kids
– they wouldn't believe a word we said.'

‘So
you
suggest something.'

‘OK.' She gazed at the two boys. ‘I know we can't stand up to Kippax as we are
now
, but it'd be different if we were invisible, right?'

‘Ugh!' Conrad shivered. ‘No more invisible for
me
, Sis. Not after what happened to me last time.'

‘You were being a div last time, Con. Messing about. There'd be none of that this time.' She turned to Peter. ‘Tell him, Pete.'

Peter pouted. ‘Actually I'm not keen myself, Carrie. Stuff can happen when you're invisible. Bad stuff. I vote we tell a grown-up – our parents or The Bee or somebody.'

Carrie snorted. ‘Waste of time, Pete. Nobody'd
believe
us. Listen – we're supposed to be a gang, aren't we? Well –
aren't
we?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I suppose.'

‘And the point about gangs is that members stick together, right? Help one another.'

‘Uh … yeah.'

‘Hmmm…'

‘Well then –
Rosie's
a member, she could be in trouble – in
danger
– so it's up to us to help her. Am I right?'

‘Haaar.'

‘Umph.'

‘Is that a
yes
, or what?'

‘Ah … yeah.'

‘Uh … mmm.'

‘Well come
on
then – let's go.'

‘Where?'

‘The
ice house
, of course. How
else
do we go invisible? Move.'

‘Just when I'm
dying
for my flipping tea,' groaned Conrad.

Charlotte dawdled along the road feeling glum.
OK, so it's Friday. No school tomorrow, but it's also the first weekiversary of
not
getting Split le Beau's autograph, so it's a bummer.
Everything's
a bummer, and invisibility's the biggest bummer of them all.
She aimed a kick at a drift of fallen leaves, turned the corner and stopped dead. Right in front of her, not twenty metres away, stood a long silver Mercedes. Beside it, leaning on its gleaming roof, smoking a cigarette, was Split le Beau.

She couldn't believe it at first, but stood gaping as her jaw dropped and her knees turned to jelly.
It isn't him. It
can't
be. He's a superstar. He wouldn't hang around this dead hole for a week.
She
was gathering her courage to go up to him and say,
Excuse me, but has anybody ever told you you look just like Split le Beau
? when he noticed her and smiled across the polished roof.

‘Hello.'

‘Huuu … uuu … hello. Is it
you
, really?'

‘It's me, really' The cigarette wagged as he spoke. ‘What's
your
name?'

‘Charlotte. Charlotte Webb. I…' She'd been about to say
I saw you at school
, but changed it to ‘I missed you at school. Last week. I was away.'

He grinned round the cigarette. ‘Shame. Still you've caught me now, haven't you?'

‘Uh … yes.' She giggled, feeling her cheeks flame. ‘Can I… would you mind… ?' Fumbling with her bag.

‘An autograph?' He smiled. ‘Don't worry about paper, I've got some snapshots somewhere.' He opened the driver's door and stooped to the map pocket. Here y'are.' He rested the photo on the roof and spoke the words he was inscribing as Charlotte moved closer. ‘To Charlotte – sincerely – Split.' He looked up. ‘What's today's date?' She told him in a hoarse whisper and he added it with a flourish. ‘There. That all right for you,
Charlotte?' He handed her the glossy photo.

She glanced at it, nodding. ‘It's … fabulous, Split. Fabulous.'

The superstar chuckled. ‘Good. Well – better get on. Got an appointment at four. ‘Bye, Charlotte.'

‘Oh, yes. Bye, Spl…'

He was swinging himself into the driver's seat when there was a sound of running footsteps and Rosie came tearing round the corner. She saw the car, then Charlotte, and as he leaned across to get the door, she saw Split le Beau. ‘Wha… ?' The shock broke her rhythm. She came to a panting halt, looking from Charlotte to Split and back to Charlotte. ‘Charlotte, how the … what're
you
doing with … oh, heck!' She glanced behind, held up the bit of frame. ‘Gotta go. The Manor. Kippax behind. I'll phone later. See you.' With a last yearning glance in Split's direction she ran on, sweat glistening on her forehead.

His chuckle diverted Charlotte's attention from her friend's flight. ‘What was all
that
about?'

‘Oh…' She shook her head. ‘It's nothing. That's Rosie. We're just…' She broke off as a
blue van came screeching round the corner. Split had to slam his door to keep it from being torn off its hinges as the vehicle swerved by. He shook his head. ‘Crazy folk you got around here, Charlotte. You better …'

‘
Please
, Split…?'

He looked up at her. ‘What
is
it kid? What's going on?'

‘I'm not sure, but I think that van's after Rosie. D'you think you could … ?'
Never get in someone's car
, hissed her mind, but surely … Split le Beau…

‘Sure, hop in.' He leaned across, opened the passenger door. ‘Did I hear your friend mention the Manor?'

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