Midnight for Charlie Bone (Children Of The Red King, Book 1) (14 page)

            "Good idea," said Charlie.

            He ran back across the street, eager to tell his uncle everything that had happened. Paton was standing, very conveniently alone in the hall, but he was in no mood for secrets. He was about to go out. He was wearing a very smart black suit and, amazingly a purple bow tie. His hair had been cut and his face looked very white and freshly shaven. He smelled of something spicy rather than the usual mixture of ink and old paper.

            "Wow!" said Charlie. "Where are you going, Uncle Paton?" Paton looked embarrassed. "You asked me to get a key for you," he said, "from Miss Ingledew." "We don't need it now,” whispered Charlie. Paton took no notice. "I er..." he cleared his throat. "I'm taking Miss Ingledew out to dinner."

            "Really!" This was news indeed. As far as Charlie could remember, Paton had never, ever taken anyone out to dinner.

            His uncle lowered his voice and, leaning close to Charlie, he said, "Grizelda's not very happy about it."

            "She wouldn't be," said Charlie with a grin.

            Uncle Paton patted him on the shoulder, winked, and left. It was a very dark night.

            Charlie felt quite excited for his uncle. He silently wished him good luck and an accident-free night.

            Grandma Bone had shut herself in her room, so there was a nice peaceful atmosphere in the kitchen. Maisie and Charlie's mother were both reading magazines. They looked up when Charlie came in, eager to hear all about his first week at the new school. Charlie told them the funny interesting bits. He left out Gabriel Silk and his strange assertion that Charlie's father was not dead. He also left out the part about the cape. He would have to find an explanation for that later. He was allowed to stay up much later than usual. With Grandma Bone out of the way there was no one to insist on an early bedtime. Besides, it was Sunday the next day and his mother assured him he could stay in bed as long as he wanted. But at length Charlie's eyes began to close, he yawned several times, and had to admit that he was in danger of falling asleep. Kissing Maisie and his mother good night, he went to bed. Charlie couldn't have said how long he'd been asleep before he became aware of something strange going on. There were slow steps outside his door. Up and down. Up and down. The stairs creaked and someone crossed the hall. Tired as he was, Charlie slipped out of bed and tiptoed downstairs.

            Uncle Paton was sitting at the kitchen table, where a single candle flickered mournfully He had flung his coat and tie on the floor and his face was buried in his folded arms.

            “Uncle Paton, what is it?" Charlie whispered. "What happened?" His uncle wouldn't reply He just groaned. Charlie pulled out a chair and sat opposite his uncle, waiting for him to recover from whatever it was that had caused such terrible despair.

            At last Paton lifted his head and said, "Charlie, it's all over."

            "What is?" said Charlie.

            "I couldn't help myself," Paton said pensively. “It was bound to happen. Our friend, Miss Ingledew, looked so stunning. She wore a black dress and her hair was piled on her head, and her neck was as white as a swan's... well, I was bowled over."

            "Of course," said Charlie.

            "I restrained myself until the pudding."

            "Oh. That was good."

            "No, it wasn't," moaned Paton, "although I suppose she did enjoy most of the meal."

            "What did you have?"

            "Oysters. A Caesar salad. Roast duck and a pavlova pudding."

            "Yum!" said Charlie, who didn't know what any of it was, except the duck.

            "But the wine went to my head, and I was so intoxicated, so happy," Paton sighed hugely. "There was a candle on our table, so that was all right, but behind Julia, on the wall, there was a light in a red shade and poof-off it went. Glass everywhere. All over her hair and her lovely black dress. I jumped up and another one went off at the next table. Imagine my distress."

            "But they didn't know it was you," said Charlie.

            “Ah, that's when I made a fool of myself. ‘Sorry sorry,' I cried, and another lamp shattered. Then another. I rushed out, still apologizing. I was so embarrassed. I couldn't stay in there, every light in the restaurant would have exploded."

            "Never mind," said Charlie soothingly. “I'm sure you'll think of an explanation for Miss Ingledew."

            "But, Charlie, I didn't pay the bill!" cried Paton. "Imagine her disgust. She thinks I'm a coward, frightened of a few popping lightbulbs, and I left her to pay the bill."

            "You'll just have to tell her the truth," said Charlie.

            "Nooo!" Uncle Paton gave a thundering moan of despair. "We're doomed, Charlie. You and I. Doomed in our differences. In our horrible family afflictions."

            "We're not," said Charlie fiercely. “Please pull yourself together, Uncle Paton. I've got something very important to tell you, and I really need you to concentrate." Uncle Paton laid his head on his folded arms again, and this time he didn't seem inclined to move. So Charlie began to recount everything Dr. Tolly had said on the tape. At last Paton lifted his head, and Charlie had his full attention.

            "Good Lord," said Paton, as Charlie came to the part that concerned the organist, "Lyell!"

            "It was my father, wasn't it?"

            "Must've been," said Paton. "Go on, Charlie." By the time Charlie had finished the strange story of Dr. Tolly Paton was beginning to look much more lively.

            "My dear boy this is all too extraordinary for words," he said. "Tragic, too. So tragic. That poor child. And your father -how I wish I could have prevented that. There's no doubt at all, in my mind, that in trying to save the child, he sealed his own fate."

            "But Uncle Paton, my father's still alive," said Charlie.

            "What? No, I'm sorry Charlie, you must be wrong." Charlie told his uncle about Gabriel Silk, the blue cape, and his father's tie. "I don't see why he would lie," said Charlie. "You should have seen him, Uncle Paton. He knows these things. Just like I hear voices and Manfred can hypnotize... and you can explode light-bulbs."

            "I suppose I must believe you, Charlie. But I saw the place where the car went into the quarry Your father couldn't have gotten out, and if he did, where is he now?"

            Charlie gave a gloomy shrug. He didn't know the answer, but it was interesting to learn that no one had found his father's body. "I think Grandma stopped them from finishing Dad off because he was her son. But she let it happen, the accident and everything, because she couldn't make him do what she wanted. They were all in it, the Bloors and the Yewbeams, all except you, Uncle Paton. If anyone stands in their way or does something they don't like, they finish them off, or hide them, or make them forget who they are."

            "Oh, dear boy!" Paton suddenly banged the table with his fist. "I blame myself. Keeping one's head down is just not good enough. I knew something was going on, I can't deny it. Those sisters of mine were plotting and whispering; they had secret meetings, and there were visits from Dr. Bloor and his ghastly grandfather Ezekiel, and I took no notice."

            "Grandfather?" said Charlie, somewhat surprised.

            “Yes, grandfather," said Paton. “An evil old man if ever there was one. He must be over a hundred by now. One evening I got a phone call from Lyell. He had discovered that something was going on and he wanted my advice. In those days he lived on the other side of the city with you and your mother. I said I would meet him outside the cathedral." Paton covered his face with his hands. "I didn't go, Charlie," he moaned. "I forgot. I was working on my book, you see. But what's a book compared with a life? I never saw your father again."

            In spite of the dreadful and mysterious events surrounding his father's disappearance, Charlie felt rather proud. His father had tried to prevent something evil from happening.

            "Uncle Paton, tomorrow I'm going to take Dr. Tolly's tape to Miss Ingledew,” he said. “And while I'm there, I'll try and explain things for you about the exploding glass and everything."

            "It's very good of you," Paton said sadly, “but I'm afraid my prospects there are doomed."

            "They're not," Charlie retorted. He suddenly realized that he and his uncle had been making quite a noise. Why wasn't Grandma Bone thumping the floor or stomping downstairs to poke her nose into things?

            "What's happened to Grandma?" he asked.

            Paton smiled for the first time that night. "I put something in her milk. She won't wake up for hours. Probably not until teatime tomorrow" Charlie burst out giggling. He couldn't help himself Laughing merrily he and his uncle climbed the stairs together, their problems forgotten. For now.

CHAPTER 14

BILLY'S DARK BARGAIN

            When Billy Raven told Charlie that he didn't mind being alone in the long dormitory it wasn't strictly true. In fact, Billy dreaded Saturday nights. He found it difficult to sleep knowing he would have to spend another whole day and night on his own.

            True, Blessed kept him company in his way but the old dog's knowledge of humans was limited. His conversation was full of animal events and animal feelings and, now that he was getting old, he moaned constantly about his ailments. Billy sympathized, but he would rather have had another boy to talk to, or even a girl.

            There were other orphans at the academy Billy knew this, but they had all been adopted by nice, friendly families. Billy often wondered why no one had ever wanted to adopt him. He decided it was because he looked so strange; perhaps people were afraid of his white hair and dark red eyes.

            Across the courtyard, the candles in Manfred's room shone like eerie little stars. Billy watched them for a while, then, leaving the curtains open, he climbed over Blessed and got into bed. His head had barely touched the pillow when the old dog gave a snort and sat up.

            "Billy's wanted," said Blessed.

            "Who wants me?" asked Billy slightly alarmed.

            "Old man. Now I show"

            "Now? But it's dark and ... and ... why does he want me?"

            "Blessed not know Come now"

            Billy put on his slippers, took his flashlight from a drawer, then, wrapping himself in his bathrobe, followed Blessed out of the dormitory The battery in Billy's flashlight had run very low and he could barely see Blessed's tail as it swung in front of him. Billy kept meaning to ask one of the other boys to get him a battery but he wasn't sure who to ask. Next weekend he would be going home with Charlie. Charlie would get him a new battery he was sure.

            Blessed was walking much faster than usual and Billy had to run a few paces to keep up with the old dog. When Blessed came to a staircase, however, he slowed down. He heaved himself upward, panting desperately At the top of the staircase the air was thick and warm. Now they were entering the Bloors' family quarters. Billy shuddered to think what would happen if Manfred found him outside his door.

            “Are you sure this isn't a mistake?" Billy asked the dog. "Do you think you could be wrong?"

            "Blessed never wrong," snorted the dog. "Follow" Billy followed, along passages that reeked of candles, and then up another staircase and into a shadowy area where flickering gas jets hissed and popped from the wall, and cobwebs hung limply from the dark, crumbling ceiling.

            "Nice smell," Blessed commented.

            "Nice?" said Billy. “It's like bad eggs and ... and dead things."

            "Nice," said Blessed. He had reached a black door with a huge brass handle. The paint was scarred by a patch of deeply scored lines and, as Blessed lifted a paw and began to scratch at the door, Billy realized what they were. Obviously the old dog came here often.

            After three scratches, a cracked and haughty voice said, "Enter!"

            Billy turned the handle and went in. He found himself in an extraordinary room. The only light came from a fire that burned in a massive stone fireplace at the end of the room. Beside the fire sat an old man in a wheelchair. Strands of thin white hair hung limply from a red woolen cap, and beneath the cap the old man's bony face protruded like a skull; the eyes were so deep and dark, the cheeks so hollow, and the lips so thin they were hardly there, and yet the dreadful mouth smiled when Billy came in.

            "Come closer, Billy Raven." The old man beckoned with a long, twisted finger.

            Billy swallowed and approached. The heat in the room was stifling and Billy couldn't imagine why the old man wore a woolen shawl around his shoulders.

            He took a few steps into the room and stopped. Blessed waddled past him and lay beside the fire, panting.

            "It's very hot in here, sir," Billy said, gasping for air.

            "You'll get used to it. My doggie loves a fire, don't you, Percy?" The old man grinned fondly at the dog, though it was hard to tell. He might have been scowling.

            "I thought he was Cook's dog, sir."

            "He thinks he's Cook's dog because I can't take him for walks anymore. Can I, Percy?"

            "He told me his name was Blessed." Billy ventured a little farther into the room.

            "His name is Percival Pettigrew Pennington Pitt. He just thinks he's Blessed." The old man gave a cackle. "Do you want some cocoa, Billy?" Billy had never had cocoa. He didn't know what to say.

            "It's hot and sweet and gives you wonderful dreams. The old man's crooked finger beckoned again. "There's a saucepan of milk warming by the fire. And on my little table there, you'll find two blue mugs with cocoa and sugar in them, already mixed. You just pour that milk into the cups and stir away and then we can have a nice little chat, can't we, Billy?"

            “Yes," said Billy He carried out the old man's instructions and soon he was sitting in a big, comfortable chair, very much enjoying his first cup of cocoa.

            The old man took a few noisy slurps and then said, "Well now, Billy I expect you're wondering who I am. I'm Mr. Bloor Senior Senior. Ha, ha!" There came another unhealthy-sounding cackle. "But I am also Ezekiel.You can call me Mr. Ezekiel."

            "Thank you," said Billy.

            "Good! Good! Now, Billy you've got a problem, haven't you? You haven't been adopted, have you? No. And that's a pity isn't it? Would you like to be adopted, Billy? Have nice, kind, cheerful parents?"

            Billy sat up. "Yes!" he said.

            There seemed to be a small flicker in the fathomless eyes. "Then you shall, Billy I've got just the mom and dad for you. They're wonderful people and they're very very excited to have you."

            "Really?" Billy could hardly believe it. "But how do they know me?"

            "We've told them all about you. They know how clever you are, and what a good boy you've been, and they've seen your school photo."

            "So they know about..." Billy touched his white hair. Mr. Ezekiel gave one of his sinister smiles. "They know you're an albino, and it doesn't worry them at all."

            "Oh." Billy felt quite dizzy with excitement. He took a long gulp of the sweet, rich cocoa to steady his nerves.

            Mr. Ezekiel was now staring at him intently. “If we arrange this adoption for you, Billy you will be expected to do something for us in return."

            "I see," Billy said uncertainly.

            "You've made a new friend, haven't you? A boy in your dormitory called Charlie Bone?"

            The old man's tone was kind and gentle, and Billy was reassured. "Yes," he said.

            "I want you to tell me everything he does; where he goes, who he talks to, and, most important of all, what he says. Do you think you can do that?" The old man leaned forward and fixed Billy with his chilling black eyes.

            "Yes," Billy whispered. "I'm going to stay with him next weekend, if I'm allowed."

            "You will be allowed, Billy It would be perfect. And now you can tell me everything that you have learned about him so far." With the prospect of living forever with kind and wonderful parents, Billy eagerly told the old man everything he wanted to know He didn't think that it would hurt Charlie, and even admitted his own part in spying on Dr. Bloor in the Da Vinci tower.

            Mr. Ezekiel frowned when he heard this and cursed under his breath; but he quickly assumed an expression of kindly interest while Billy continued to recount all the details he could remember. There was one thing about Charlie that he didn't tell the old man.

            He couldn't tell him that Charlie knew his father was alive because Billy had not heard Gabriel's conversation with Charlie about the blue tie.

            "Thank you, Billy,” said Mr. Ezekiel when Billy had finished. "You may go now The dog will take you back to your dormitory Percy get up!" Blessed blinked and stood up, rather shakily.

            Billy slid out of the comfortable chair and put his empty mug on the table. "When will I see my new parents, sir?" he asked.

            “All in good time.’ The old man's voice had lost any trace of warmth. "You have to keep your part of the bargain first."

            "Yes, sir." With Blessed panting at his side, Billy walked to the door where he turned and said, "Good night, sir. When shall I..."

            "The dog will bring you." Mr. Ezekiel dismissed him with an impatient wave. When the old man was alone, he pointed his deformed finger at the saucepan. Slowly the pan lifted into the air and, as the old man beckoned, it flew  gently toward an empty mug. "Pour," said Mr. Ezekiel. The pan tipped forward and poured a few drops of warm milk into the mug, the rest dripped on the old man's woolen shawl. "Fool!" shouted Mr. Ezekiel.

            "Will you never learn?"

            The hot room seemed to have exhausted Blessed. It took him a long time to reach the dormitory by which time Billy's flashlight had lost all its remaining strength, and he had to walk with his hand on the old dog's head. Blessed knew the way even in the utter darkness and stopped only once, to say. “Ears bad. Don't touch."

            "Sorry,” said Billy.

            "Need drops," muttered Blessed. "Billy get some?" Billy didn't see how he could. "I'll try,” he said. When they reached the dormitory they found Cook pacing anxiously outside. She was a small, round person with dark, graying hair and very rosy cheeks. The sort of person you would expect a cook to be.

            "I've been looking everywhere for that blessed dog," said Cook. "He's got to have his medicine."

            "He says he needs drops for his ears," Billy told her.

            "Does he?" Cook knew about Billy's relationship with Blessed. "He needs drops for just about everything, doesn't he? WhereVe you been, young Billy?"

            "I've been to see the old man."

            "You poor thing." Cook gave a kindly sigh. "I'd get back to bed if I were you."

            Billy said good night to Cook and Blessed and went to bed. He lay awake for a long time, trying to imagine what his new parents would be like.