Clifftoppers, page 2
“Oh Stanislav, do be quiet,” said Felicity. She ran forward, plucked Stanislav’s coat from his shoulders and threw it in the cloakroom with the others. “We’ve had the most stunning luck. Here’s marvellous Martha, at last, and, rather handily, we have the children from Clifftopper Farm. They can do all that lights and sound stuff – isn’t that wonderful?”
Bella took one look at Stanislav and growled.
Chloe shuffled forwards to trap her between her calves and surveyed the man. He was tall, bearded, and had a large nose. His coat was orange, his suit was orange, his shirt yellow, his tie red. He seemed to need more space than was necessary and he was definitely glowering. Glowering at Bella. In fact, glowering at the whole collection of people in the room. He even appeared to glower at the Christmas tree.
He took a long breath. He breathed in for longer than Chloe thought was possible, and then breathed out. But he didn’t speak.
Instead, he swept his scarf from his shoulders, sending lumps of ice across the floor, and flounced from the room. “Lead on, Martha, Felicity. Follow, children. Follow, dog!”
“This is so weird,” said Ava, reaching up to the ancient phone screwed on to the wall. They’d been directed to Felicity’s landline phone so that they could call their grandparents and explain the situation. “We can still say no. Everyone?”
Josh shrugged. “I suppose we could stay, as long as we can still sledge,” he said, looking up at Aiden. If Aiden decided they shouldn’t stay then that would be good enough for him.
He watched as Aiden considered the group of chattering adults. “I think we should stay, if we’re helpful,” said Aiden. “And I feel like something’s going on here. What do you make of that beardy man – Stanislav Jones?”
“Apparently,” said Chloe, “he’s a famous theatre director – so what on Earth is he doing here in sleepy old Drake’s Bay? That in itself is a mystery.”
“Eating biscuits,” said Josh. He pointed to the rest of the cast who, after hugging each other, and then hugging each other again, were settling around a huge fireplace in a collection of battered sofas and armchairs. They were making themselves comfortable with hot chocolate, freshly baked ginger biscuits, and little sticky waffle things. He rubbed his stomach. “Stanislav Jones is eating a LOT of biscuits.”
“I definitely want to stay,” said Chloe “I want to know more about Martha and her burglaries, and I’d love to find the ghostly passages, and we won’t know any of it if we stay at Clifftoppers.”
Aiden murmured agreement.
“I’m up for it,” said Ava.
“Perhaps we’ll find the ghost of Lady Anne?” giggled Chloe.
Josh felt less enthusiastic than the others. He wasn’t sure about being in a castle with a howling ghost and no one had offered him a biscuit. He sighed again – hoping his sister would hear it. But the others were too excited. He took out his notebook and began to draw the adults while he waited for Ava to actually make the phone call.
“Right – let’s get going!” announced Felicity.
“Um – s’cuse me,” said Martha. “I’ve left my script in the car? And some chocolates I bought for Felicity. Halfway down the hillside?”
“I can get them!” called Josh, stepping forwards. He could run down to the car, do a quick bit of sledging, and spend a joyous day in the snow!
But instead, Harry Hobhouse leapt to his feet and struck an unnecessary heroic pose. “I’ll get it. Tell me where to go.”
“What, right now?” said Stanislav. “Can’t we just start?”
“Thank you, Josh. Go later, Harry,” ordered Felicity. “For now, you can share your script with Martha.”
Harry slid along the sofa so that he was sitting right next to Martha and glowed.
Josh drew a picture of Harry in the margin of his notebook. Next to it he drew a picture of Martha. Over their heads he drew a heart and wrote the word YUCK.
“Oh, oh!” There was a sudden, loud cry. “I’ve lost my necklace! Oh no!” Martha had stood up and was spinning around, patting her chest and neck and staring at the floor. “But I had it earlier.”
“It’ll be here somewhere,” said Felicity, examining Martha’s cardigan.
“The chain must have broken!” said Martha as she shook her scarves out one after another. “It has to have done. There’s no other explanation.”
“What does it look like, dear?” asked Felicity.
“Just a – gold chain and a pendant thingy.” Martha answered, distracted. “Sorry everyone – it’s just rather precious to me…”
“We saw it,” said Aiden, stepping forward. “You were wearing it after the car crash.”
“Yes,” said Chloe. “You said it was cursed.”
“Cursed! How funny!” laughed Stanislav.
Aiden dropped to all fours and began to search the floor. He lifted the stupid skirt things that hung around the bottom of the armchair next to Martha in case it had been kicked underneath. It hadn’t. For a moment, Josh fought the impulse to help Aiden search – after all, it was just a bit of jewellery – but he couldn’t help it and seconds later he too was crawling around in the dust looking for the scrap of gold.
“Is it very valuable?” asked a woman who Josh knew as Mrs Edge. She lived next to the post office, had apricotty hair and was eating her way through all the biscuits. She wasn’t helping at all.
“I don’t know if it’s valuable,” said Martha. “It’s just that my uncle left it to me rather particularly.”
“I’m sure I could find it,” said Harry Hobhouse, beaming for a quick selfie, then discarding his phone before rushing to Martha’s side. “Now what am I looking for?”
On the other side of the room, a miserable grey man who Josh hadn’t noticed before let out a long, exasperated sigh but didn’t join the search.
Josh glared at him and then began an inch-by-inch survey of every scrap of the giant carpet, wondering how he had ended up doing this instead of whizzing through a field on a sledge.
It took about ten minutes for Felicity to lose her cool. “OK, everyone!” she hooted over their heads while they all crawled around on the floor. “Please!” she shouted, clapping her hands like a reception teacher.
Noticing that the chaos was subsiding, Ava sat down and tried to look as grown up as possible. She crossed her legs at the ankle and put on what she hoped was a look of mild interest. She would have gone on looking for the necklace, but she could see that Martha had given up. Across the room, the actress sneezed and blew her nose sadly.
“It can’t have gone anywhere. It must be here. But we simply can’t lose any more time looking for it. We have only two days.” Felicity surveyed them all. “Are we agreed?” She cleared her throat. “Welcome to Frost Castle – and thank you so much for coming through the snow – I know the journey has been, um, trying for some. And we’ve unfortunately lost a necklace.” She glanced at Martha. “Anyway, we’re lucky to have the wonderful children from Clifftopper Farm helping us. No matter what, we must perform this play. The community charities depend on the income, so we’ll crack right on.”
Ava watched Josh draw a very rude picture of Felicity and nudged him. He stuck his tongue out.
“Stanislav Jones is the distinguished director of our murder mystery. I’m hoping you’ve all learned your lines?” She snapped a smile at Harry Hobhouse, who was staring at his phone. “Right, so—”
“Who’s going to be murdered?” interrupted Josh.
Stanislav Jones swung around and glared. Josh glared back.
“I will be playing Aunt Maud, and I will be murdered,” said Felicity. “Quite early on. It means I can help do the backstage thingies after I’m dead.” She looked around to see if there were any more questions. “In a minute we’ll have a read-through. Ava – I’ve given you a few lines, darling.”
“Me?” Ava felt a rush of excitement. Acting alongside Harry Hobhouse and Martha Darcy-Court was too exciting! She tried not to punch the air, but she did it in her head.
“The rest of you children, you’re backstage, and I will show you where you’ll be operating.” Below the cast list was a scribbled list of backstage roles. Ava stared down at them, trying to look as laid-back as possible. Chloe and Aiden were doing lighting and sound together and Josh was the runner.
“What’s a runner?” Josh whispered.
Ava flapped her hand at him. She was an actress now. She tried to concentrate on what Felicity was saying, but Josh hadn’t stopped.
Turning to his left, he nudged Chloe and pointed at the description next to his name. She shrugged, pointed at the word sound next to her name and pulled a look of pure horror.
Josh mimed a slow death.
Ava could tell that Josh was building up to something worse, when she noticed everyone had gone quiet and was looking at him.
“How old are you, Josh?” said Felicity.
“Nine,” said Josh. “And she’s ten.” He pointed at Chloe, who giggled and sat up in her chair. “And she’s thirteen,” he said pointedly, staring at Ava, who glared back. “Well, you are,” he hissed.
“And you?” Stanislav Jones peered doubtfully at Aiden.
“Me?” said Aiden. “I’m twelve.”
There was a silence and then, from the back of the room, the grey man spoke. “Are we relying on these children to perform alongside us? Are they our technical know-how?”
“Well, yes – they’re the lovely children of my friends, Primrose and Edward. They rescued Martha from a nasty car accident, and I’m sure they’re highly talented. Although you might not be able to see that right now,” said Felicity, looking doubtfully at Josh.
Stanislav Jones let out the longest and saddest sigh yet. He leaned over, placed his forehead in his hands, and then raised his head and stared at the wall in front of him. “Oh, Felicity. I was so looking forward to this production, but now…” He rose from his chair, stretched his arms out on either side and said in a quiet voice, “We have so much work to do!”
“How does this stupid thing work?” Chloe asked Bella, stroking the dog’s ears while she stared at the sound console.
Ten minutes earlier, bringing her into the makeshift theatre set up in the Great Hall, Felicity had waved vaguely at a balcony halfway up the wall at the end of the huge room. “You’ll find all the sound equipment in the Minstrels’ Gallery. They used to play instruments up there while people danced. The stairs are at the side. I can’t remember how the machine functions, but you’re young, you’ll work it out.” Felicity had wafted out through the panelled doors back into the rehearsal room and Chloe had been left in the huge echoey space alone.
It had taken her five minutes to work out that the door to the gallery was disguised as a piece of wall, the only clue being the small brass door handle. Behind the door, a dusty staircase led to the balcony and to the unpromising machine in front of her. Thick dust coated everything and despite flicking every switch and pressing every button, she couldn’t even get it to turn on.
Perhaps it wasn’t actually plugged in?
Crouching knee-deep in dust and ancient sweet wrappers, Chloe reached underneath the table, her hand making contact with a dangling cable. “Ah, that makes sense,” she said, grasping it and feeling along until she found the plug. Assuming that there was a socket on the wall behind, she placed her hand flat on the panel and fumbled around in search of it.
Clunk.
Chloe sat back. Did the wall just move?
Breathing out across the dusty floor, she lay on her stomach and stretched her arms in front of her. The wall had moved! There was a thin strip of light all the way around the panel. A secret door?
Chloe squashed under the table and pushed the panel back until it swung open, revealing a long passage.
“What do you reckon, Bella?” she asked.
In answer, Bella trotted over Chloe’s head and into the space.
Disappointed by his miserable role as a runner, which he’d discovered meant general dogsbody, Josh had gone to look for Chloe in the Minstrels’ Gallery. But she wasn’t there. Instead there was a tempting hole in the wall. He peered at it. Was this where Lady Anne would do her ghostly walks? But there was light coming from the other side, and it looked so interesting. He shouted, “Chloe?” After three shouts, each louder than the last, he stepped inside.
Much to his surprise, the hole didn’t lead to a spidery stone-walled passage. Its walls were clean and painted yellow, and it was well-lit by daylight coming through a series of small square windows. He looked back to see where he’d come from. The little door was quite obvious. He wouldn’t have any difficulty finding a way back. And it was daytime. Ghosts didn’t hang about in the daytime. Did they?
He wandered along the corridor until it turned a corner. Now he found himself in a long passage lined with picture frames. It would be about the right length for the Great Hall. He stopped and listened for Chloe but there was no sound except for the distant rattling of scaffolding poles. They sounded close, as if the wall was paper thin. It was the strangest feeling, walking along a narrow space that no one could see into. He stopped. No one could see in, but could he see out? Perhaps that’s what the empty picture frames were. Running his hands around the side of one of the frames, he realised it was a flap. He swung it open.
Oh yes! This was brilliant. He could see right down into the Great Hall. He could see the scaffolding poles now and Aiden struggling with the lights. Excellent! Maybe that’s what this tunnel was for – spying on people. He let the flap fall and walked on until he reached a T-junction. “Hmm,” he said, peering down the two new passages which were not quite as brightly lit, and feeling ever so slightly creeped out. “Which way?”
Using the idea that turning left, left and left again would probably bring him back to where he began, he tried it, and soon ended up in a room that seemed to be part of the actual castle tower. “Cool,” he said, enjoying the tiny slit windows that looked out into the blizzard. Opening a door on the far side, he found a spiral staircase. “Up or down?” he said to himself, and he decided on up. He raced up thirty steps, passing a landing on the way, and stopped at a battered wooden door. It was much colder up here, and when he opened it, he found himself in a freezing, dark space. Icy wind whistled through, howling and groaning and flapping some grubby plastic as it travelled.
Above his head a thin female voice called. “Joooooosh! Are you there…”
Josh froze.
“Jooooosh… I’m coming to find you!”
Yikes!” yelped Josh, turning and racing back down the stairs, a thousand imaginary ghosts in pursuit.
Chloe could hear Josh. He was here somewhere; she could hear him skidding down the corridors. No one else ran around like that.
“Josh!” she called, stopping at a junction and listening. Bella stood beside her, also listening.
She heard the skid above her head and ran for a spiral staircase at the end of the passage, but Bella was there first, vanishing up the steps, yapping.
“Josh! Are you there?”
Thumps sounded from overhead and Bella barked.
“Josh! I’m coming to find you!” yelled Chloe.
A long skid ended with a thump and a giggle and Josh stumbled away from the staircase and flopped on to the floor, where Bella immediately stood over him, licking his face.
“Why didn’t you stop?” asked Chloe.
“I thought you were Lady Anne – get off, Bella!”
“For real?” laughed Chloe.
Josh scowled and changed the subject. “Have you looked through those?” he said, pointing up at the line of holes in the wall.
“Ooh, look, you can see the rehearsal room!” Chloe peered down, watching the actors bustling about. “Josh, do you reckon Martha’s necklace could have been stolen?” she said, suddenly.
“A hundred per cent I do!” said Josh. “I mean – where is it otherwise? We looked everywhere for it. It’s brilliant you think so too! I’m going to make notes on the suspects.”
She heard Josh open his notebook and peeked over his shoulder. There were some very unflattering drawings of the cast. She watched as he wrote: Stanislav Jones. Director. Bossy, but funny, though not on purpose. Horrible orange suit. Bearded. Angry. Doesn’t like Bella. BIG BLACK MARK. Keeps on staring at Martha. He sucked the end of his pencil and then wrote. Fish out of water. VERY fishy.
“What do you think about Harry?” asked Chloe, looking back at the rehearsal room as Harry began to read his part. She was disappointed. He didn’t seem either interested or talented and just kept taking selfies of himself and Martha all the time. She looked over at Josh’s notebook. Objectionable he wrote, stabbing a hole in the paper with his pencil. And Self-obsessed.
“Ava’s staring at Harry like a love-sick cabbage,” he said in disgust.
“But do you think he could be a thief?”
“Too stupid,” said Josh, drawing a huge mobile phone next to Harry. Next, he wrote, Martha. Red nose, keeps sneezing. Car in hedge. “Would she steal her own necklace?” he asked.
“No – nor Mrs Edge. Nor Felicity. I mean, she’s a friend of Grandma’s.”
Chloe looked along the line to the grey man at the end. “There’s Robin Baird. What about him? He doesn’t look a bit like an actor. More like a bank manager or something.”
Very dull, wrote Josh. And then he added an extra very. Very very dull. “None of them look like robbers,” he said, studying the pages in his notebook.
“And no sign of Lady Anne, either,” said Chloe, crouching down and giving Bella a hug. She was disappointed, she’d hoped for a ghost.
“Wrong time of day, I s’pect,” said Josh, looking around slightly nervously.
