The Secret Five and the Stunt Nun Legacy (22 page)

The children were horrified at all the secret lurking and copious notes! Old Hag had overheard their secret plans to go to 1980 and stop Sampson de Lylow being driven into the arms of the devil himself! This called for some sort of urgent action! Ricky, in a burst of urgency that was unknown where food was not involved, took charge. ‘Hurry up!’ he urged, grabbing the key from the pale lady. ‘We have to get to that room to stop Old Hag!’

But they were stopped in their tracks by Amy. ‘Look!’ she said, pointing. ‘Uncle Quagmire has left Sampson’s autobiography! It’s on that chair.’

And, sure enough, there on a chair was the book!

‘Let’s take it with us,’ suggested Betty. ‘You never know when we’ll need it.’

Daniel grabbed the book and stuffed it down the front of his trousers, suspecting that it might be important to the story at some stage. They all said goodbye to the pale inquisitive lady and hurried upstairs to her room. Whatshisname bounded after them. It was ages since he had been involved in any sort of bounding activity and it made him feel good, especially to be able to get some distance between the pale dog-murdering lady and him.

‘This is my room,’ the pale lady said as they reached her room.

‘Er, sorry, I thought we’d all said goodbye to you in the reception,’ whispered Daniel.

‘Woof woof woof!’ agreed Whatshisname.

‘Oh,’ whispered the pale lady. ‘My mistake. I’ll go then, shall I?’

They all nodded their heads and the pale lady hurried away from the narrative, again. Daniel glanced up into thin air and shook his head in disbelief. Then, quickly, they let themselves into the pale inquisitive lady’s room. There, in a pale corner of the room, stood a wardrobe! But, to their utter dismay, there was no sign of Old Hag.

‘There’s no sign of Old Hag,’ confirmed Ricky. ‘But look! On the bedside cabinet. A contraption! She must have already gone to 1980!’

And, sure enough, on the bedside cabinet, was a clock-like contraption! It was a wooden box with a dial and big red digital numbers, and looked quite a lot like a clock.

Feeling important for a change, Ricky opened up the sheet of paper that Uncle Quagmire had given them. They all gathered very closely around him as he followed the detailed instructions. Carefully, he rigged up the clock and the wardrobe. Unfortunately, due to the fact that they were gathered very closely around him, no-one else could see exactly how all the up-rigging was done. So, damn it, it has to remain a mystery to all except the children and Whatshisname.

‘All secretly and carefully done,’ said Ricky, standing back and admiring his work. ‘I did have a few problems with the tensile modulator and the economy-mode regulator toggle switch but, apart from that, it’s all quite easy really. All it needs now is to set the year and we’re done.’

‘Well done, Ricky. Let’s get into the portal wardrobe,’ suggested Amy. She opened the wardrobe door and peeked inside.

‘I’ll now set the year,’ Ricky volunteered. ‘I’m good at setting years.’

‘Oh, all right,’ said Daniel, slightly grumpily. He was thinking that his role as alpha male was slipping away, not realising that he himself was closer to a delta or epsilon male. But Daniel thought that Ricky was definitely a born beta male and should know his
place when it comes to doing stuff like this. ‘And hurry up, won’t you, Ricky?’ he grumped.

Amy, Betty and Daniel headed for the wardrobe as Ricky set about setting the clock to 1980. But Whatshisname was growling, the hackles on the back of his neck standing up out of respect.

‘What’s up, boy?’ asked Ricky.

‘Ha!’ a voice said. They looked to where the voice seemed to be coming from, and suddenly realised that it was from the bed! At first they all thought it was a talking bed, but soon they realised that Old Hag was hiding under the bedclothes!

She struggled to untangle herself and get to the wardrobe. ‘I’m coming with you!’ she yelled, then fell flat on her face on the floor. ‘Ouch! Wait! I bet you’ve got some sprouts! Wait for me! Ha! I have my own secret mission to attend to!’

‘Stop her!’ Betty yelled.

With no thought for his own safety, Whatshisname grabbed the leg of Old Hag’s trousers and pulled and pulled, giving Ricky time to hurriedly finish setting the clock and climb into the wardrobe. To their dismay, Old Hag clambered in after him, dragging a growling Whatshisname, who was still attached to her trouser leg.

‘Get her out!’ Amy yelled. ‘I don’t like these plot reversals!’

Ricky, who was slightly strong for a boy of his spineless character, and Amy, who wasn’t, grabbed hold of Old Hag. Carefully, yet brutally, they dragged her out of the wardrobe.

‘Ricky! Amy! Whatshisname!’ shouted Betty. ‘Come back in! Quickly!’

Whatshisname, thinking Betty had shouted
I’ve got a ham sandwich! With pickle!
let go of Old Hag and jumped into the wardrobe! Meanwhile, Ricky and Amy held on very firmly to her as she struggled and wriggled.

‘Catch us up later!’ shouted Betty. She slammed the wardrobe door just as a strange and unearthly whirring sound began to happen. Betty, Daniel and Whatshisname were on their way to 1980!

Or so they thought!

In which even more troublesome things happen; Old Hag has a fine reason to chuckle; the chapter ends on a bit of a cliffhanger; so that’s what you call it; yes.

In the bedroom, Old Hag suddenly stopped struggling.

‘Why have you suddenly stopped struggling?’ asked Amy. ‘Is there something we should know?’

‘It’s a trick!’ said Ricky. ‘She’s an awfully devious old hag. Keep struggling with her, even though she’s not struggling herself!’

‘Ha!’ said Old Hag, struggling to stop them struggling. ‘You’re right, Ricko, I am rather devious and proud of it! I’d have already gone to 1980 and settled this mission if I’d have had some Brussels sprouts! But, silly children, take a look at the time-travel clock! Ha! and ha! again! Look at it!! I’m so unbelievably happy that I could have a crack at the world record for the number of exclamation marks in one paragraph!!!’

They stopped all the unnecessary struggling and looked at the time-travel clock on the bedside cabinet.

‘Does that say what I think it says?’ asked Amy.

‘I don’t know,’ said Ricky, letting go of Old Hag. ‘What do
you
think it says?’

‘It looks like 1880,’ said Amy, quite confused.

‘Ha!’ said Old Hag gleefully. ‘You’ve sent them to the wrong century! What a laugh! I’m so utterly gleeful!’

Amy and Ricky stared at the numbers on the clock, then at each other, then back to the numbers on the clock. Old Hag stood examining her fingernails as they did all the staring. Eventually, fed up of staring, Ricky spoke. ‘Er . . .’ he said.

Old Hag chuckled. ‘
Er?
Is that all you can say?
Er?
They’ve gone backwards to 1880 and all you can think of is
er
? Ha! Silly children. My mission is becoming easier by the hour. This stopping you from saving the world is a doddle, it really is.’

‘But . . .’ said Amy.

‘Erm . . .’ said Ricky.

‘While you’re standing there, butting and erming,’ cackled Old Hag, ‘I’m off to find Bartle. I want to make sure he’ll do the necessary with Clarissa the stunt nun. I’m going to see that they’re happy ever after and that she is soon big with stunt child. Ha! Take your time,
losers
!’ She made an L sign with her finger and thumb and waved it around in front of Amy.

‘Erm . . .’ said Amy.

‘But . . .’ said Ricky.

Old Hag hurried out of the room, chuckling to herself, which has been proved to be the most effective way to chuckle. Amy and Ricky both examined the clock, just in case it was a typo. But no, it still read 1880.

‘How did that happen?’ Amy asked. ‘Gosh! Did you make a mistake, Ricky?’

Ricky hung his head in shame. He shuffled over to the wardrobe and peeked inside. It was empty, apart from a faint aroma of creosote and pineapple. He sank down on the edge of the bed.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said, quite mournfully. ‘They’ll be trapped in 1880. They’ll need a digital alarm clock to get back. And it’s all my fault.’

‘That’s true,’ Amy said, brightly. ‘I’m quite happy to blame you totally for their loss. I’m all for a blame culture in The Secret Five.’

‘I feel like hankering,’ Ricky said.

‘What?’

‘I said I feel like
hankering
,’ Ricky said. He was glad of the opportunity to use the word at last. ‘Do you have one?’

‘One what?’ Amy was confused.

‘A hanky,’ Ricky said.

‘No! And I’ve no idea what you’re on about, Ricky,’ Amy snapped. ‘Sometimes, honestly! Pull yourself together and just accept the fact that you’ve probably killed the other three. Now, shall we go and find Uncle Quagmire to explain what’s happened? Do you think he’s finished questioning Clarissa and mending her radiator by now?’

Ricky wondered how he could have made such a silly mistake. Then he had a thought. He shot to his feet and looked up into thin air. He looked quite stern! Oh oh.

‘What’s up there?’ enquired Amy, looking up at exactly the same bit of thin air. ‘Daniel’s always looking up there. I don’t understand.’

‘It’s
him
, you know,’ he murmured. ‘I’d have been all right without
him
. He never lets me eat when I feel hungry, and he always makes me look
so
pathetic and mediocre and spineless.’

‘Who?’ said Amy, who was a zealous defender of mediocrity. ‘Ricky, you really do behave strangely sometimes. I’m wondering if I’m safe being left here with you. Let’s go and find Uncle Quagmire before I become too worried to continue the adventure.’

Ricky gritted his teeth in the direction of the thin air, not a very effective gesture, but it made him happy, so we’ll let it go for now.

And off they went in search of Uncle Quagmire. He would know exactly what to do, and they both had the luxury of several chapters to think how they could save the world and rescue their pals!

In which we meet a strange man; there’s a pathetic bit of a brooklet of consciousness which is quite confusing goodness knows why it’s there I do need a haircut oh yes I do; they discover that they are not where they are supposed to be; the kangaroo, typically, stays very quiet indeed.

‘Gosh!’ exclaimed Daniel as he landed with a big thump in the middle of a strange churchyard. ‘Is it 1980? This is exciting, isn’t it, Betty?’

But there was no reply! Daniel looked around him. No Betty, no Whatshisname! He removed his spectacles and tried looking around him again. Still no Betty! Still no Whatshisname!

‘Gosh!’ he exclaimed again, but louder. ‘This is exciting, ISN’T IT BETTY?’

No reply again! What a waste of capitals. He slipped his spectacles on. They felt good, reassuring. But he was alone and that wasn’t good. To add to his aloneness, it started to rain as he hunched up against a cold grey gravestone. A crow began to caw at him from the top of the yew trees that surrounded the churchyard. ‘Caw, caw,’ it cawed, as if it were laughing at him, which it was, as crows have an excellent sense of humour due to their tendency to bump into each other at night.

Quietly, very quietly, he wondered if Betty was somewhere else. Maybe she had landed in another chapter! This was awful, awful, awful. She might be lost forever! What a terrible thought! And Ricky and Amy, where were they? They would also be somewhere else, and probably incapable of saving the world! Worryingly, he was now The Palpable One and would have to save the world on his own. He did
not
fancy the idea of that. He just
didn’t feel up to it, no, no, not up to it at all. He sat for quite a while, sitting, wondering, sitting, wondering, feeling in his pockets for anything that might help, anything. Yes, some sprouts he had so must chew sprouts would that help help it might help funny old life I certainly need to trim my toenails that’s what I need to do yes that’s what I will do as soon as I can maybe I’ll just trim every other toenail for a change I hate the smell of rain I wonder if I can ever be a gentleman farmer when I’m grown up maybe I might look into it when I feel up to it but not now I don’t like being alone like this still all this being alone at least gives me the chance to indulge in a bit of stream of consciousness just like Ricky does only a bit better then again it’s hardly a stream I suppose maybe more like a streamlet of consciousness or no perhaps a creek of consciousness or no not a creek how about a rill or beck or gill or yes more like a brook or even a brooklet yes that was it a brooklet of consciousness.

But, glory be, the sudden onset of a brooklet of consciousness faded away as quickly as it had begun, and he was back to being treated as a third-person with punctuation and without any insight into his pathetic fragmentary thoughts whatsoever.

Just then, Daniel the Third Person suddenly heard a scampering noise and saw a flash of pink collar!

‘Whatshisname!’ Daniel exclaimed in a rather girly voice. His favourite dog had appeared at his side! Daniel got to his feet and patted Whatshisname’s head. Daniel was, for the first time in his life, really glad to see him. They were now The Palpable Two – himself and this fat ugly dog with a fluffy pink collar. Together, with their combined resources, they could save the world! How, he hadn’t a clue.

‘Where’s Betty?’ Daniel asked, not really expecting an answer that didn’t include the word
woof
.

‘Woof woof woof!’ said Whatshisname.

‘I’m over here!’ called Betty from over here.

He looked up and saw Betty as she came scurrying down the
path between the gravestones. He was really pleased to see her, and told her so. ‘I’m really pleased to see you,’ he said. ‘And I
love
the scurry!’

‘We landed over there and . . .’ Betty stopped, then looked hard at Daniel. She frowned. ‘Daniel, can I ask something? While you’ve been here on your own, all alone, have you been indulging in some interior monologue? Bordering on a stream of consciousness maybe? Please tell me you haven’t.’