Jenny Nimmo - Charlie Bone and the Blue Boa

‘He’s not !’ said Charlie fiercely. ‘His car went into a quarry, but they never found his body. He’s just – lost.’

‘Really? How did you find that out?’

Without thinking, Charlie said, ‘My friend Gabriel’s got an amazing gift. He can feel the truth in old clothes. I gave him my father’s tie and Gabriel said that he wasn’t dead.’

‘Well, well.’ The girl gave Charlie a sweet, understanding smile, but the effect was spoiled by the cold look in her eyes – now a dark grey. And, was it a trick of the light, or did he glimpse a set of wrinkles just above her curved pink lips?

Charlie slipped off the sofa. ‘I’d better help my other gran with lunch,’ he said.

He found Maisie in the kitchen, throwing herbs into a saucepan. ‘All this fuss for a child,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve never heard of such a thing.’

‘Nor me,’ said Charlie. ‘She’s a bit strange, isn’t she?’

‘She’s downright peculiar. Belle indeed!’

‘Belle means beautiful,’ said Charlie, remembering his French. ‘And she is very pretty.’

‘Huh!’ said Maisie.

When the soup was ready Charlie helped Maisie to carry it into the chilly dining room. Grandma Bone was already sitting at the head of the table, with Belle on her right.

‘Where’s Paton?’ asked Grandma Bone.

‘He won’t be coming,’ said Charlie.

‘And why not?’

‘He doesn’t eat with us, does he?’ Charlie reminded her.

‘Today, I want him here,’ said Grandma Bone.

‘Well, you won’t get him,’ said Maisie. ‘He’s gone away.’

‘Oh?’ Grandma Bone stiffened. ‘And how d’you know that?’ She glared, first at Maisie and then Charlie.

Maisie looked at Charlie.

Charlie said, ‘He left a note.’

‘And what did it say?’ demanded Grandma Bone.

‘I can’t remember all of it,’ Charlie mumbled.

‘Let me see it!’ She held out a bony hand.

‘I tore it up,’ said Charlie.

Grandma Bone’s eyebrows plummeted in a dark scowl. ‘You shouldn’t have done that. I want to know what’s going on. I must know what my brother said.’

‘He said he’d gone to see my great-grandpa, your father, although you never go to see him.’

His grandmother’s tiny black eyes almost disappeared into their wrinkled sockets. ‘That’s none of your business. Paton visited our father last week. He only goes once a month.’

Charlie only just stopped himself from mentioning his own visit to his great-grandfather. Because of the family feud it had to remain a secret. But Uncle Paton had never told him what caused the feud or why he mustn’t talk about it. He’d have to tell another lie. ‘It was an emergency.’

This seemed to satisfy Grandma Bone, but Belle continued to stare at Charlie. Her eyes were now dark green and a chilling thought occurred to him. Uncle Paton had gone to stop someone dangerous from arriving. But perhaps that person was already here?

The invisible boy

The rest of lunch was eaten in stony silence. Even Maisie seemed lost for words. But just as Charlie was clearing the plates there was a series of loud barks from the garden, and Runner Bean’s head appeared at the bottom of the window.

Grandma Bone, who had her back to the garden, swung round just as the dog bobbed out of sight.

‘What was that?’ she said.

‘Obviously a dog, Grizelda,’ said Maisie. ‘A stray has probably jumped into the garden.’

‘I’ll go and shoo it out,’ Charlie offered.

As he left the room he noticed that Belle looked worried.

Charlie ran to open the back door and Runner Bean came leaping in.

‘Sssh!’ said Charlie urgently. ‘Not a sound!’ He put a finger to his lips.

Runner Bean appeared to understand this and obediently followed Charlie up to his room.

‘You’ve got to be quiet, or it’s curtains for you.’ Charlie drew a finger across his throat.

Runner Bean grunted and curled up on the bed.

‘Did you catch it?’ asked Belle, when Charlie returned to the dining room.

‘No, I just shooed it away,’ said Charlie.

Belle stood up. ‘I want to go home now,’ she said to Grandma Bone.

‘Very well, dear.’ With surprising speed, Grandma Bone walked into the hall and put on her coat and hat.

Charlie was amazed. His grandmother always had a nap after lunch, even if it was just a snack. The golden-haired girl seemed to have some sort of power over her.

‘Where is home, exactly?’ he asked Belle.

‘Don’t you know where your great-aunts live?’ she said.

Charlie had to confess that he didn’t. He’d never been invited to their home, and never been told where it was.

‘I expect you’ll find out soon enough,’ said Belle mysteriously.

‘There’s no need for him to know,’ said Grandma Bone, helping her into a smart green jacket.

‘Bye-bye, then, Charlie!’ said Belle. ‘I’ll see you at Bloor’s on Monday. I’m going to be on the green bus. Watch out for me.’

‘I’ll be on the blue bus. But I expect I’ll see you some time.’

The strange girl smiled and tossed her golden curls. Her eyes were blue again.

When Belle and Grandma Bone had gone, Charlie went to help Maisie with the washing-up.

‘Where do the aunts live?’ he asked Maisie.

‘Some big house at the end of one of those creepy alleys,’ said Maisie. ‘Darkly Wynd, I think the road’s called. Funny name – perhaps it’s winding and twisty.’

‘I’ve never been there.’

‘Nor me,’ said Maisie. ‘And I jolly well wouldn’t want to.’ She handed him a bowl of leftovers. ‘Here, take this to Runner. I don’t know how long we’re going to be able to keep this up. Grandma Bone’s bound to smell a rat, you know.’

‘As long as it’s not a dog,’ said Charlie, trying to make light of the problem.

Maisie just shook her head.

On Sunday, Charlie managed to sneak Runner Bean in and out of the house before Grandma Bone woke up. They had a good race round the park and then Charlie fried bacon and eggs for their breakfast. Apart from a brief run in the garden after dark, Runner Bean spent the rest of the day on Charlie’s bed.

On Monday morning Charlie’s mother promised to take the dog for a walk when she got back from work, and Maisie agreed to keep him fed. But as Charlie got ready for school he began to worry.

‘You must keep quiet,’ he told Runner Bean. ‘No barking, understand? I’ll see you on Friday.’

With mournful eyes the big dog watched Charlie close the door between them.

* * *

As Charlie and his friend, Fidelio, walked up the steps to Bloor’s Academy, Fidelio said, ‘There’s a very pretty girl trying to get your attention.’

‘Oh.’ Charlie turned to see Belle looking up at him from the bottom of the steps.

‘Hullo, Belle. This is Fidelio,’ he said.

Belle gave Fidelio a dazzling smile. ‘I see you’re in Music. Violin?’ She nodded at the case Fidelio was carrying.

‘Yes,’ murmured Fidelio. He seemed rather lost for words, which was unusual for him.

‘See you later.’ Belle skipped into the hall. ‘I remember,’ she whispered, ‘no talking.’ And off she waltzed, towards the pencil and paintbrush sign. Her green cape floated round her in a particularly stylish way as she bobbed into the green cloakroom.

‘Wow!’ said Fidelio, as soon as they had passed under the two trumpets. ‘Who is she, Charlie?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Charlie muttered. ‘She’s staying with my great-aunts. What colour would you say her eyes were?’

‘Blue,’ said Fidelio. ‘Bright blue.’

‘Well, the next time you see her, they’ll probably be green or brown,’ said Charlie.