Secrets at Silver Spires (12 page)

“Oh wow!” Georgie made us all come and look at what was on a table all on its own. “I want this!”

It was a silver necklace on a plaster-of-Paris bust, only it didn't just go round the neck, it hung in strands right round the shoulders like the tassles of a scarf. It was truly beautiful.

“Yes, I know,” said Katy, pouting, pretending to be fed up. “This is so going to win a prize, and don't worry, guys, I know my bracelet won't get anywhere, but I loved making it and I can't wait till you see it.”

We still hadn't found it and I was getting more and more intrigued.

“Look at this wall, Jess,” said Naomi. “There are some lovely pictures here.”

“Yes, this one's…” I stopped and gasped. I was staring at a black sheet of A3 paper with silver bracelets of all sorts of different designs painted all over it, only one of them wasn't painted. It was real. And on the bottom right-hand corner were Katy's initials,
K.P.

“Wow, Kates!” said Naomi, swinging round and hugging Katy, who was grinning from ear to ear. “It's amazing!”

“Oh, Katy,” I breathed. “It's…” I was searching for the right word and it popped into my head in next to no time. “It's exquisite!”

“Thank you, Jess! That's a really big compliment because of you being such an artist.”

I felt a tightness in my stomach. Could I still count myself as an artist when I'd just chucked away my latest piece of art?

Grace squeezed my hand. Maybe she'd noticed my sad look. “Let's look at everything all over again,” she whispered. “We've got an hour till the judging.”

So that's what we did, only this time we stopped and read all the little plaques – at least the others did, and Grace read them out loud for me. It was such a lovely relief not having to worry any more about not being able to read when I was with my friends.

At three o'clock everyone assembled on the lawn on the other side of the drive that scooped past the main building. I looked up and saw the tall thin spires spraying sparkles into the bright sunny sky, and when I looked back down again Mr. Cary and the other art teachers were approaching the platform on the lawn from the art block, with a tall slim-looking man. He had short silver hair and was wearing a loose white shirt, grey trousers, a black waistcoat with yellow braiding round it, and a thin chain round his neck. My heart beat faster. This was Brian Hodgson.

Everyone cheered like mad when Mr. Cary introduced him and he grinned round, and said, “What a welcome! Thank you! And what a lovely school with talent sprouting everywhere. I think you should be very proud of yourselves.” There was more cheering then. “I've had great difficulty choosing my winners and my two runners-up in each category,” he went on in a more serious tone, “but I've finally managed it. I'd like to start with the senior category, if I may, simply because the three winning entries are within ten metres of me.”

We all started looking round but there was nothing to be seen within ten metres of where we were standing, so I was a bit confused.

Brian reached down and took something out of a large canvas bag. “Here is the work of the second runner-up,” he announced, turning it round with a flourish to face us. “Would Tessa Phillips please come and receive her prize?”

Tessa was in Year Eleven and she'd done the most brilliant illustration for a children's book. She'd used a photograph for the background and painted cartoon characters on the top. It was atmospheric and amazing and I clapped like mad along with everyone else as she shook Brian's hand and he gave her an envelope.

When she left the platform, we all fell quiet and Brian began to speak again. “Now I said that all the winning entries in this category could be seen within ten metres of where we are standing and you all dutifully looked round, but no one thought to look up.”

So then of course the entire school looked up at the old oak tree, since there was no other place where the artwork could be, and, sure enough, half hidden by leaves and hanging between two branches was a great brown bat, that looked as though it was made of the finest spun silk. It wasn't just the bat that was so impressive, it was the way the artist had thought to camouflage it like that.

A girl called Helena went to collect the first runner-up prize for the bat as the applause rang round, and then everyone was still and silent, waiting to hear who had won the senior category.

“This might not come as a surprise to any of you,” Brian announced with a grin, as he carefully took from his canvas bag the plaster-of-Paris bust with the silver necklace draped around it. “Congratulations to Ayesha Gala!”

Katy nodded and whispered, “Told you!” as Ayesha got an even bigger round of applause than the other two. I noticed that Brian was mouthing something to Mr. Cary, who nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

“Good,” said Brian, when we were all quiet again. “We're ready for the junior category. I have a confession to make. I couldn't decide who should be runner-up number two and who should be runner-up number one in this category, so I'm having a joint runners-up prize. First, let me show you this magnificent mosaic of cut glass, every single shape melted in a kiln by Celine Farrier and placed in the most beautiful pattern.” He held up the mosaic for us all to see and I felt happy that it was a winner because I'd guessed it might be when I'd spotted it in the art block. Where did Celine get the glass from? Maybe she'd just asked for it. Why hadn't I done that? I was so stupid.

After Celine had received her prize, Brian said he was sorry but he couldn't whip the other runner-up's entry out of his bag, because it was far too big, and neither could we look around and see it because it was too far away. “But,” he went on, “if I were to say the word ‘Hidden', what would spring to mind?”

Georgie's voice rang out loud and clear. “That tree house thingy!”

There was instant laughter and when it died down Brian chuckled and said he thought
“That tree house thingy”
didn't quite do it justice, but yes, that was the other runner-up. “So, many congratulations to Claudia Driver!”

I was trying to work out in my mind who would be the overall winner of the junior category. It would have been so amazing if it was Katy, but I guessed that Brian wouldn't choose two pieces of jewellery. Maybe it would be that fabulous gargoyle.

“And finally, the winner of this junior section.” Again, the rustling and chatting dissolved into a deep silence.

“Now, many of you might not have even seen this winning entry as you've been looking round today, but I'm sure you'll all go and see it once I tell you about it. I didn't see it myself at first because it's way over there…” He pointed. “Near the place where you keep your pets.” He paused and grinned round, and then a murmur went round the audience. “But Mr. Cary pointed me in the right direction and I found myself at the school rubbish dump…”

I felt a gasp rising up inside me and I swung round to look at Grace, but she was staring straight ahead, her shoulders tensed right up.

“On the rubbish dump were four figures made of twisted wire and dressed fantastically in painted bubble wrap. They were lying there as though they'd been chucked off the edge of the world, and I can honestly say that the sight of those figures, who seemed to be staring tragically up into the sky, had more effect on me than any piece of art I've seen for a very long time.”

My throat felt tight and tears were coming into my eyes. Grace stood closer to me and I saw that her face had gone a bit red, but she kept her eyes straight ahead, and I did the same because Brian was carrying on.

“I'd like to read you what was written on the plaque beside this piece of art.”

He produced a card from his pocket and I bit my lip, my heart thumping fearfully as Brian's voice rang out. “This is a bunch of people on the rubbish heap who can't see properly. Why can't they see?”

My hand shot to my mouth.
No! Don't read any more. I can't bear it.
These were the words I'd written in a big temper. But then I realized Brian had stopped reading and he was looking round his audience very slowly. “That's all it says,” he announced finally. “And that is part of the genius of the piece.
Why can't they see?
The artist has left the audience to give whatever meaning they want to these frail wire people. I have my own feelings about it, but…they may not be the same as the artist's. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the beauty of art. There
is
no right or wrong!” He smiled round and I felt shivers rushing all over me. It was like a dream. Perhaps I
was
dreaming. Perhaps I would wake up any minute now and plummet into my real world.

A murmur was rippling through the audience.
But who won? Who did it? Who's the winner?

And then my name was announced and I realized it definitely wasn't a dream because I was being shoved forwards by my friends as everyone else clapped and cheered.

“Go on!” whispered Grace.

“You total genius!” squeaked Katy.

I felt hands patting me on the back and the shoulders and the arms as I tried to find a path through the crowd. “Congratulations!” “Well done, Jessica!” “Brilliant!”

And then Isis's voice, loud and clear. “You're so clever, Jess. Well done!”

I was gobsmacked, and fully expected to see a mocking look on her face, but when our eyes met I saw something I'd never seen in Isis before. It was real admiration, and I walked on air all the rest of the way to the front, where Brian Hodgson's big friendly smile seemed to guide me right up to him. As we shook hands, with the clapping and cheering and whooping and whistling going on all around us, Brian gave me a thoughtful look. “You've got a rare talent there, Jessica. Take great care of it, won't you?”

I nodded and smiled. I
would
take great care of it.

Brian had convinced me that I wasn't completely useless at everything. I might be no good with words, but I had enough artistic talent to be praised by a great artist – and that was something to be truly proud of.

Then he handed me an envelope and wished me the best possible luck for the future. “Not that you'll need it. You're a rising star,” he added, which made my heart sing as I walked on air again, back to my friends. By the time I got there the clapping had finally faded and people were starting to move away.

“Look, everyone's gone to look at your art, Jess,” said Naomi, clapping her hands together like a little girl. “See you in a minute!”

And that was when I started to step out of my dream and to wonder what on earth had happened to bring my card into Brian Hodgson's hands. The last time I'd seen it was just before I'd put it under my pillow. I just didn't get it.

As soon as Grace and I were completely on our own I swooped on her. “I don't understand what happened with my card!”

She bit her lip. “I…I saw you writing something last night in bed, because I was wide awake, only I pretended to be asleep. And I saw you put whatever it was under your pillow, and I could tell you were in a state. So this morning when you went to the bathroom I took it out and read it, and it made me sad… In fact, it made me so sad that I was suddenly determined to do something about it.”

I gasped. “But what about my terrible spelling?”

“It's okay. I got the first two sentences in my head, then I rubbed out the whole thing and wrote out just those first two sentences so they filled up the card nicely. Are you…cross?” She looked as though she was holding her breath, waiting for my reply, and it suddenly hit me that she was the very best possible best friend in the world.

I gave her a hug and felt the tears at the backs of my eyes again. “No, of course not. How could I be cross? I've just won the exhibition, thanks to you.”

“When I went to Mr. Cary at morning break and said you'd changed your mind, he looked as though he didn't believe me and I went red and suddenly found myself telling him the truth – I mean the whole truth, about everything. I hope…you don't mind. Then I handed him the card and said you'd written it after lights out. I didn't tell him I'd changed it a bit.”

My hand went to my mouth in horror. “Wh…what did he say?”

“He asked me to show him your piece and I took him to the rubbish dump and he just stared and stared. He had tears in his eyes and he asked me where I thought we should put the card, and I said ‘What, so we're leaving the figures here? I think Jess wanted them to lean against a tree looking out in all four directions.' And he said, ‘No, what Jess wanted in the end was to chuck them on this rubbish heap. So that is exactly where we'll leave them.' Then he took the card and placed it really carefully between the fingers of the smallest figure.”

Grace put her arm round me. “I told the others what I'd done at lunchtime, because I couldn't bear to be the only one keeping such a massive secret!” She smothered a nervous giggle. “They couldn't believe it. Georgie called me a black horse, until Naomi pointed out that she actually meant
dark
horse!”

I laughed then. It was a big spluttery laugh of relief and joy.

Grace grabbed my hand. “Come on, Jess. Let's go and join the others to look at your piece.”

We jogged all the way and I couldn't believe that so many people were still congregated around the rubbish dump.

“Aha! Here's the artist!” said Brian, seeing us approaching. “There are a lot of people here wanting to be put out of their misery, Jessica. Everyone wants to know what
you
think is the answer to your question
‘Why can't they see?'
”

I spotted Naomi and Katy and Mia at that moment and they all looked at me with waiting, wondering eyes, and then Georgie was grinning at me, and Grace shuffled a bit closer to me, and I suddenly realized how lucky I was to have these special friends, and also how silly I was ever to have thought they wouldn't stand up for me no matter what I'd done. And on the other side of the rubbish dump stood Mr. Cary. Our eyes met and he broke into a big smile as he gave me a thumbs up and a little nod.