Magic Parcel (18 page)

“He does now,” Jimmy returned quickly. “
He
phoned
me
not long ago, remember? If you don't believe me look back in your phone records.”

“Oh, I don't know,” she sighed with a resigned shrug of the shoulders. “I've got too much to do to be proving and finding out. I'm sure he will get in touch when he's good and ready. He always did spend a lot of time travelling. I was always given to understand it was a lot to do with his businesses.”

Jimmy sank back into the big easy chair by the front window, his mind trying to come to terms with the mysterious disappearance of his uncle. It was a good job he was spending time at Ursula's house this coming weekend. Perhaps she might be able to shed some light on this new turn of events. He was looking forward to having someone to talk to, someone to share his thoughts with, about his many concerns. He
would
raise the issue of Omni at some stage with her although he felt he already knew what her response would be. There was only the obstacle of three days' schooling getting in the way. School! Was he going to have trouble with Dwayne again? He didn't think so, but if he did, he thought he would know what to do. How many ways could there be to ‘encourage' him and his soft sidekick to back off?

 

It was a worrying week for Jimmy. School wasn't the problem as he could look after himself, at last, as far as the former bully Dwayne Davis was concerned, and, of course others like him. Classes had become easy to negotiate particularly if you applied the well-tried formula – do all that is expected of you, don't cause any problems, and, above all, remain invisible! He was learning fast which made it easier for him to adapt to any situation that might occur. He might now take most things in his stride, but what was having a profound effect on him was the not knowing what had happened to Reuben.

Inevitably, despite his concerns and apprehensions, Friday arrived. School was no big deal, as they never did much anyway on Fridays, but the excitement of the weekend in prospect was beginning to kick in. What did he expect to achieve by spending the time with Ursula and her parents, and what was he expecting to find in that enormous old house?

“Have you packed clean underwear?” Jimmy's mother asked. “And what about a clean shirt?”

“Mother!” Jimmy sighed. “I'm only staying until Sunday. It's not an expedition to the other side of the world!” Those words kind of rang in his head because he never knew
where
he might end up. In fact, he rather hoped something good
was
going to happen.

“Well, hurry up dear,” she went on matter-of-factly. “Your taxi will be here shortly.”

“Taxi?” Jimmy shouted, not quite believing his ears. “It's only a short distance away. I can walk it in no time...”

“And get dirty and sweaty into the bargain!” she interrupted rather sharply. “If you're spending time in someone else's home, under some one else's sheets, you
will
be clean when you get there.” And that was the end of the conversation. He knew when
not
to answer back, and this was one of those times.

 

The taxi was on time and it dropped him outside Ursula's front gate. Bit of a misnomer really, he thought. More like a portcullis than a gate. He was half-expecting a moat and drawbridge to appear. There was, however, a rather large iron bell-pull handle by the gate, which he felt he ought to grasp, as he didn't want to spend his evening on the pavement. It was actually more akin to a compacted mud path than a pavement, with tufts of grass growing through in places, telling him that the path wasn't well-trodden. He hesitated, touched the bell-pull but shied away before making solid contact with the cold metal. This he did several times until he took courage and yanked the metal downwards with an almighty jerk. It hung loosely by the gate and, as nothing happened, he assumed rather worriedly that he had broken it. However, it did return slowly to its original starting point, but still nothing happened. Five minutes elapsed when a faint whirring sound drew his attention to the slight inward movement of the great gates. They opened, only enough to allow one smallish person to pass through with a squeeze, and suddenly he was in. The gates shut fast once again behind him. He wasn't at all prepared for what he saw within the grounds.

As far as the eye could see, there were grounds of lawn, shrub, and wild grassland. It was reminiscent of his Uncle Reuben's garden, but much grander in scale, with many more trees and a wider variety of hiding and exploration places. He had visited his uncle's house and explored his garden more times than he could remember but even that couldn't compare with the vista now before him. Every time he had been to his uncle's there had been something different to do, somewhere different to explore, but here it was as if
all
those areas had been joined together in one place. The driveway, which could accommodate five or six normal-sized cars, was entirely black-topped. The surrounding paths leading to and from the house were paved with small riven slabs, which had a vaguely worn yellow cast that reflected the hue of the golden pea gravel surrounding them.

The house was altogether something else. It was larger than anything he had ever seen, both in this world and in Omni – save Oompah's and Seth's castles, although he had only ever really seen the
inside
of Seth's castle. Standing at the front of it, as he had come in through the gate, he couldn't see an end to it. He could have been forgiven for believing there was nothing else to this view but house! A mixture of styles and materials, it seemed not to be from any one particular era. Part gothic, part Tudor, part Victorian; it wasn't at all clear when the main foundation to the building had been laid. He could have had an enormous amount of fun exploring both house and grounds, if he had a
year
free to do it justice. He turned purposefully on his heels to head for the front entrance which was blocked by a giant double door, probably cut from an oak tree centuries in the growing, to see the diminutive form of Ursula watching him from the cover of the portico which sheltered the entrance.

“Hello,” she said with little outward emotion. “I'm glad you could come. Please enter.” Whereupon, she turned and disappeared into the gloomy interior, that from where Jimmy was standing, matched the exterior of the building.

The hallway which smelt of still air and baking, must have been big enough to house his own home in its entirety very comfortably. There were four polished oaken doors off to the left and two to the right, hiding goodness knows what treasures to explore. The central staircase raised its magnificently brass-clad oak treads to the heavens, splitting into two galleried landings that shot off in opposite directions at the first floor. The great sweeping curved banisters, which again were fashioned from enormous pieces of wood, ended with flattened and curled newel posts. They would have been ideal for sliding had it not been for five giant, but highly polished, brass studs set at four feet intervals along their lengths, making sliding somewhat hazardous. Jimmy simply stood in the middle of that cavernous room, his mouth ever-so-slightly agape.

“Wow!” Jimmy said at last. “I know this will sound silly, but is this
really
your
house?”

“Yes,” Ursula puzzled, brow frowning slightly. “We've been here for as long as I can remember.”

“Will I get to meet your dad as well as your mum?” he asked.

“My dad, yes. Mum's dead,” she replied quite matter-of-fact.

“Oh, I'm ever so sorry. I ...” he tailed off, a little embarrassed at what he thought to be a huge blunder.

“Don't be,” she replied. “She died when I was very young and so I don't really remember much about her. Mum and dad bought this house before I was born so it's been in the family over twenty years. Dad will be in later, much later usually, because he's a scientist; works for the government or something. Come on. I'll show you to your room.”

The central staircase was magnificent; almost as long, grand and sweeping as the sumptuously carpeted and brass-rodded walk way in one of those grand country houses of the 18
th
century; although definitely not as busy or noisy. The walls on the landings were covered with exquisitely executed paintings, which seemed mainly to be of random countryside, depicting very busy scenes of agricultural activities or battles or fabulous animal interactions. Obviously through a trick of the light the scenes were so cleverly painted that they gave the distinct impression of movement. He particularly liked the one near to his room showing a group of people toiling through a cooling forest on a hot day. The movement was so real, the dappled shade of the forest so soothing and the smell of resinous wood so pungent in his nostrils, that he could have been in ...

“Your bedroom will, I am sure, be very comfortable,” Ursula interrupted his reverie. “If you need anything just ask. There is a bell by the bed to summon Etherington, dad's butler. Please be aware that if you were to wander without me, you would most likely become lost. Mrs Tuliver, the cook, will have something ready for us to eat in half an hour or so. I'll come back for you then.” And with that she was away to her own room.

His bedroom was a surprise. He was expecting some old fashioned place with a four-poster bed and tapestries on the walls, and in that respect he was disappointed. The room was incredibly large by the standard of his own home. There
were
lots of period features – huge sash windows, picture rail, and deep carved skirting boards and doorframes – but essentially it was decorated in a modern style, with an ordinary divan bed and bedroom furniture. What
did
catch his eye were the half-dozen or so very large paintings hanging randomly around the walls, which seemed to him to be a continuation of each other, and which, if hung end to end, would have made a large continuously active mural. There was a new folded bathrobe on his bed, which he didn't know what to do with, and a set of thick towels, which he did. The dark-stained oak floorboards were only partially covered by a huge tapestry-style rug, which seemed to have been woven with much the same sort of pictures as the paintings. So here he was, in a hall of a bedroom, which gave the impression of being in the midst of a wonderfully active and multi-faceted countryside.

 

“Shall we explore a bit?” Ursula rounded on Jimmy once tea had been eaten and was on the way to being forgotten. She knew instinctively that he would agree readily and so it was really a tease on her part. They decided to do all the rooms downstairs first, which should have been relatively quick and easy, but once in the drawing room it was obvious to Ursula that it would take much longer than she had anticipated; Jimmy just had to examine everything hanging on the walls.

Through the drawing room and into the mirrored gallery Jimmy paused in front of a painting. It was a close-up of part of an ancient building, which resembled castles he had seen before. In the distance could be seen lines of cavalry, decked in their splendid armour, carrying multi-coloured pennants and banners which streamed out behind as they cantered into a brisk breeze. Jimmy watched in awe as the breeze touched his face and he felt the brazen hooves thundering the hard earth. He cast a glance sideways towards Ursula to see if she could see what he saw, feel what he felt. But where she had been standing, close to his shoulder, was the knotty bole of some un-guessable high tree with many others beyond. He was beneath the outwardly eaves of a forest he recognised and which he had visited many times before. The flash of sun on a highly polished shield blinded him temporarily and, the instant he unscrewed his eyes, he caught the intent and intense gaze of his companion. He was in the mirror gallery once again.

“You were there, weren't you?” she asked immediately, giving him no time to collect his senses.

“Yes ... No! I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” Jimmy stammered, taken very much off guard. Although he had a ‘feeling' about Ursula and shared a certain bond he had never shared with anyone before, not even Tommy, there was still something mysterious about her.

“Oh yes you do! You know,” she demanded, “that other world; the place where you got that ... that circlet thing you keep in your pocket.”

That revelation staggered him so much that he had to sit down on one of the Chaises Longue close by.

“How did you know?” was all he could say, lamely. Although he wasn't about to give anything away to any Tom, Dick or Harriet, it was obvious to him she
was
special, and it would be safe to share certain things with her.

“It is called Omni,” he started, “you know, the place I've been to?”

They moved quietly back to the drawing room to be more comfortable in the great, deep leather armchairs by the chimney breast fireplace. Its grate by now was glowing fiercely from a log fire which had been set in their absence. Although he missed out no important factor, he gave her a much edited and slicker version of his Omni adventures; otherwise they would still have been there a week later. Even so, late afternoon changed to mid-evening before he had finished his story. Throughout she remained silent, neither interrupting nor asking the sort of questions most other youngsters would have thrown at him. It was almost as if she knew and was simply awaiting his confirmation of her intuition.