Riddle Gully Secrets (2 page)

As Will gathered up the snail and spitballs between his palms, Mayor Bullock winked at him. ‘Females don't have the stomach for spitballs, lad, but you really ought to have a go some day.' He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Don't tell your stepfather who put you up to it, mind!'

Will opened his mouth but no words came.

Mayor Bullock's smile slipped from his face, his goodwill exhausted from extravagant use. He opened his car door. ‘Pray, continue to languish in the sunshine while the glow of youth still alights upon you. You'll have arthritis and debts up to your neck soon enough.' He slid into the driver's seat, revved the engine and rumbled off down the street.

Will hurried to a bin outside Sherri's shop and tossed the pen barrel into it. ‘I'm not waiting around for Mayor Bullock to notice his car's new paint job!' he squawked. ‘Let's go! Let's get out of here!' He began waving both arms at Pollo like he was mustering cows.

Just then the shop door opened and a thin figure, head down, rushed out, copping Will's arm fair in the face. The young customer reeled and fell to the kerb, a canvas shopping bag skidding across the ground. Will bent to retrieve it as his victim lurched to get up. They clunked heads and both sprawled backwards onto the ground.

Will sat up, rubbing his forehead. ‘Heck, sorry! I didn't see you coming.' He looked at the boy. Something about him didn't add up. He was wearing a school uniform, for
starters – and school was still a week off. His polo shirt and grey shorts looked clean, but his long hair was like a bird's nest, and his legs and arms were a mess of scratches.

The kid said nothing, just rubbed his jaw and stretched his neck, moving his head in slow circles.

Pollo picked up his bag and a book that had spilled from it –
World's 100 Most Hilarious One-liners
. She watched him get to his feet and brush off his clothes, working his way over them like they were the best he'd ever owned. He looked vaguely familiar.

‘You okay?' Pollo stepped closer and handed him his things. She sniffed the air. ‘Phew, what's that smell?'

The boy's eyes flickered like a wild animal's. Suddenly he darted away, leapt onto the wall they'd been sitting on and raced into the park. He'd disappeared by the time Will got to his feet.

A terrible thought hit Pollo. She ran to Sherri's shop and flung back the door. ‘Sherri! Are you okay?'

Sherri, sitting behind her computer screen, jerked her head back, her pen clattering to the floor. Bublé, her budgerigar, skittered atop a filing cabinet and flapped onto a lampshade. Sherri blinked at Pollo beneath her pile of bright crimson hair, her earrings swaying. She slipped a crossword under her computer. ‘Pollo? What on earth …?'

‘Have you called the police?' Pollo puffed.

Sherri retrieved the pen and eyed the bird. ‘Do you know what she's on about, Bublé?'

‘Didn't you just get robbed?' said Pollo. ‘That kid just now …'

‘Him?' Sherri laughed. ‘Not likely!' She pointed to a chair on top of which were some neatly stacked clothes. ‘Those old school uniforms over there – I had them ready to take to the charity shop in Maloola. He wanted to buy some shorts and a polo top and wouldn't hear of me giving them to him. Said he was no charity case. So I charged him fifty cents and he counted out his money to the last five-cent coin. He seemed tickled pink with himself.'

‘Then why did he rush out like his pants were on fire?' said Pollo.

Sherri winced. ‘That might have been my fault. He went out the back to change into his new things and when he returned I said he was welcome to use the wash basin out there. To be frank, he was a bit on the nose. I thought I was being subtle, but he took off like a greyhound, poor kid.'

‘I thought it was the rubbish bin that smelt,' said Pollo.

‘Any idea who he was?' asked Sherri. ‘It's unusual for
a young person to buy a school uniform.'

‘Let alone wear it when they don't have to,' Will added.

‘I think he's in the year below us at school,' said Pollo. ‘Aa-ha! I've got it! No … hang on … the person I'm thinking of is a girl.'

‘It
could
have been a girl,' said Will. ‘The long hair and everything. Just not a very girly-girl, if you know what I mean.'

‘I suppose I was largely going on the clothes he picked out in thinking he was a boy,' said Sherri. ‘His hair was certainly longer than usual.'

‘But the person I'm thinking of is all flowery and colourful,' said Pollo. ‘Never wears all her school uniform at once. And I've
never
seen her in shorts, let alone school shorts.'

Sherri's eyebrows lifted. ‘You should have seen what this kid was wearing when he – or is it she? – came into the shop! Baggy, bright-patterned long pants and a grubby orange T-shirt. Like a young hippy. I thought I was back in the City Theatre Cooperative.'

Pollo scrunched up her eyes and put the clothes Sherri described onto the figure she'd seen on the footpath. They fitted nicely. ‘Come to think of it, it probably
was
Ash Swift.'

‘That's young Ash?' said Sherri. ‘Her mum Ellie's in the repertory club with me. She joined soon after they moved here. She's great to have around – just quietly organises everything backstage. No fuss.'

‘I don't think I know Ellie,' said Pollo.

‘She works at the Town Council. She and Ash sound like they're from different universes, if you ask me. Ash is a free spirit, to use Ellie's words. She likes to go bush every now and again, whereas Ellie likes things done properly. Ash worries Ellie awfully, but poor Ellie's learned they're both happier in the long run if she lets Ash have her freedom. Ash is off stargazing at the moment, I believe.'

‘I don't know Ash but I've met Ellie,' said Will. ‘She came round to our place when they were new in town. HB had to organise a search for Ash. They found her camping at the rubbish tip, watching the lunar eclipse.'

‘Ellie mentioned that little episode,' said Sherri. ‘The tip? Why you'd want to watch the moon from there beats me.'

‘No street lights,' said Will. ‘And there are some pretty comfy old couches to stretch out on – if you don't mind a spring jabbing you every now and again … and spiders.'

‘Yurk!' said Sherri. ‘My backyard's just fine, thank you.'

Pollo pulled out her notepad and pencil. ‘Did Ash buy anything else?'

‘There was a joke book,' said Sherri.

‘Aah,' said Pollo. ‘
World's 100 Most Hilarious One-liners.
'

‘That's the one.' Sherri leaned back in her chair. ‘I must say, this Ash isn't what I'd expected. She seemed skittish like a kitten, whereas the daughter Ellie told me about is dreamy and a bit of a loner – not the joke book type.'

Pollo jotted something in her notepad and underlined it twice.

Will grinned. ‘Maybe there's a brainwasher on the loose!'

‘Brainwashing …' Pollo tapped her pencil on her chin. ‘You know, I'm beginning to think there's some snooping to be done. This could be just what I need for my news column!' She grabbed Will's arm. ‘Come on, let's get out of here!'

‘Not so fast!' said Sherri. ‘What about tomorrow night? Will, are you coming?'

Will's eyes darted around the room looking for clues. ‘Umm …'

‘You mean you've forgotten the Repertory Club's production of
Les Misérables
?' Sherri grinned.

‘Oh, that,' said Will. ‘Angela and HB are making me … err … I mean, I'm going with them.'

‘You never know, you might enjoy it. And there's supper afterwards. Your dad's still coming, eh, Pollo?'

‘Yeah, course. Oh, and sorry about the mix-up with the tickets.'

‘Nonsense. Too eager, that's me! We'll find someone to take the spares.'

‘Dad said he's looking forward to hearing you really belt it out.'

Sherri blushed. ‘Well, let's just hope a horse doesn't fall in a ditch or anything. I'd hate him to miss the show.'

‘He won't,' said Pollo. ‘By the way, what's it been like rehearsing with Mayor Bullock? If you ask me, His Wondressness has been a bit odd lately.'

‘To tell the truth,' said Sherri, ‘he's been astonishingly chirpy.'

‘Exactly! It's disturbing.'

‘I'm sure it will pass,' said Sherri. ‘I'm in his good books because I donated an old map to his tourist centre museum … and of course he's loving playing the lead role of Jean Valjean.' A devilish smile tweaked the corners of Sherri's mouth.

‘And?' said Pollo.

Sherri chuckled. ‘Well, he claims that Valjean would
have had a similar hairdo to Elvis Presley! He's taken to wearing an Elvis wig to rehearsal instead of his usual toupée. He can't pass by a mirror without stopping.'

‘He probably wears it round the house!' said Will.

‘If only I could get a picture of
that
for my column!' said Pollo. Which reminds me …' She flipped shut her notepad and began edging away. ‘Will and I need to go see what Ash Swift is up to.'

Pollo called to Sherri, her hand on the doorknob. ‘I'm still helping you set up at the Town Hall tomorrow at five?'

‘Oh, yes please! It's always a bigger job than I expect.'

‘I'll come too,' said Will. ‘It'll help make up for the stuff I broke washing your windows.'

Sherri smiled. ‘You've got a deal!'

Pollo was squatting, head down, tracing her hand over the footprints that Ash Swift had left in the garden bed at the edge of the Rotary Gardens.

‘See anything?' said Will.

‘From the angle of the toe indentations,' she announced, ‘we can conclude that she came from the direction of the footpath.'

‘Yeah, well, we kinda saw that,' said Will.

‘And observe the way the great toe print is elongated? This tells us that –'

‘Pollo?' Will interrupted.

Pollo cranked her head around to frown at Will. ‘This requires total concentration, Will!' She turned back to the footprint. ‘It tells us that she was running –'

‘Pollo, I think you should look up.'

‘– in a north-easterly direction,' Pollo persisted. She sprang to her feet and began striding off, beckoning Will to follow.

‘Pollo!' Will hissed. ‘She's over there!'

‘Who?' said Pollo.

‘Ash Swift!'

Will pointed at a rest spot fifty metres away. There were a seat and fountain from Victorian times, built in honour of some old hero, with a pretty garden bed and rosemary hedge surrounding them. Ash was at the fountain, stretching her new polo top away from her body, washing herself with water cupped in her hand.

‘Yes, well, she obviously circled around to get there,' muttered Pollo.

They hovered behind a tree. Ash ran wet fingers through her shaggy mop, combing it as flat as she could. She then crossed to the hedge, broke off a piece of rosemary and rolled it between her palms. She tucked her hands one at a time under her shirt and rubbed her armpits vigorously.

‘Holy moly!' said Will. ‘My mum just uses deodorant.'

Pollo frowned. ‘Why would she wash at a fountain when she has a perfectly good home to go to?'

‘And a mum who's worried about her.'

Suddenly Ash picked up her bag and headed back to
the street. As she walked along, Will and Pollo darted from one hiding spot to another, following. A few minutes later she was scampering up the steps of the Community Library.

‘The library?' groaned Will from behind a postbox. ‘Of all the places she could lead us! Do we have to go in? It's school holidays!'

‘They've got comics in there,' said Pollo. ‘Besides, it's air-conditioned.' She trotted up the steps, Will trudging behind.

They spotted Ash at a desk in the far back corner of the Local History section. After a moment, she ducked behind a returns trolley. She emerged holding a computer tablet, an iPad by the look of it. Her fingers working fast, she began pressing buttons and swiping the screen, staring intently.

‘I didn't think Ash Swift would know iPads even existed,' whispered Pollo. ‘Looks like she's been charging it.'

‘Weird that she's charging it here,' said Will. ‘Do you reckon she's run away from home?'

‘A runaway wouldn't go shopping and visit the library in their home town,' murmured Pollo. ‘None of it adds up.'

‘Do you think we should call someone?'

‘It's not like she's doing anything illegal,' said Pollo, ‘and she's not in actual danger yet, as far as I can tell. She's just acting differently. Would you like it if Angela and HB came chasing after you just because you were acting differently?'

‘I guess not,' said Will.

‘Let's just watch her a while longer and see where she leads us.'

But after ten minutes of studying Ash on her iPad, even Pollo had had enough. They were about to abandon surveillance when Ash abruptly rose and tucked the tablet into her bag. The hairs on the back of Pollo's neck prickled.

Pollo and Will watched as Ash headed for the exit. She paused to study a large photo taken the previous summer from the Town Hall roof to mark Riddle Gully's sesquicentenary – before Will and his mum Angela had come there to live with HB. All the townspeople were arranged in the shape of the numerals one, five and zero. Pollo and her dad were on the zero's bottom curve. Ash was running her fingertips over the upturned faces when a librarian approached. She withdrew her hand like the photo had nipped her and hurried away.

In the late afternoon, Ash walked along the main street of town with quick steps, head down and skittish
as though wary of something. Yet from time to time she stopped and gazed around as though seeing everything for the first time.