Читать книгу Gabriel and the Phantom Sleepers - Jenny Nimmo - Страница 10

CHAPTER THREE

The Woman in the Red Coat

Gabriel was still on the train. He dared not turn around to see who was behind him. He stared straight ahead, telling himself that there was no one there, no one with such an overpowering stink it made him feel sick. He held his nose and closed his mouth. As long as he didn’t see the thing that smelled so bad, as long as he didn’t look it in the eye, he hoped that it might just disappear.

But a person can’t last forever without taking a breath, and eventually Gabriel had to release his nose. The smell lingered but it was gradually fading. Gabriel stood up and looked along the carriage. It appeared to be empty. Suddenly, above his head, the conductor’s voice informed passengers that, due to a fall of snow ahead of them, the train could go no further. However, a bus would arrive within the hour.

Gabriel pulled out his mobile and tried to contact his uncle. There was no signal. ‘Of course not,’ Gabriel said with a sigh, ‘we’re in the wild.’

The door at the end of the carriage opened and the woman in the red coat came in. She walked briskly down the aisle, saying, ‘Oh, there you are.’

‘The train seems to be stuck,’ Gabriel remarked, a little nervously.

‘We must get off right now,’ she said.

‘Must we?’ said Gabriel. ‘But it’s cold outside, and the bus might not arrive for an hour.’

‘We’re not waiting for a bus,’ said the woman.

‘Er,’ Gabriel said hesitantly, ‘my friend hasn’t come back from the toilet.’

‘If you mean that man with the white moustache,’ said the woman, ‘he got off at the last station.’

Gabriel gaped at her. ‘But he can’t have. He never said goodbye.’

‘The train probably arrived at his station sooner than he expected. Never mind. Let’s get off now.’

‘I saw him,’ she went on as Gabriel continued to look uncertain. ‘I asked him why you weren’t with him and he told me to mind my own business. We’re getting off now.’

Maybe she had decided to try and escape the hooded man, Gabriel thought. ‘OK,’ he said.

The woman lifted Gabriel’s bag off the table, but he jumped up, crying, ‘No. You can’t. It’s mine.’

‘Ssh!’ the woman hissed. She handed the bag to Gabriel. ‘I’m sorry, you must be very confused.’ She smiled again and said, in a hushed voice, ‘I’m Hetty Bean, a friend of Cook’s, you know, at Bloor’s Academy. She asked me to watch over you, and so I’m what she calls a Guardian now. Please trust me. We must get away from that stinking stranger as soon as we can.’

Gabriel nodded in agreement. ‘I think I’ve seen you in the dining hall at Bloor’s.’

Hetty smiled. ‘That’s me. Cook’s assistant – well, apprentice, really.’ She picked up Albert’s black hat. ‘Is this yours?’

‘No, it’s Albert’s, my companion. He must have left it behind.’

Hetty thrust the hat into her pocket. ‘Come on, then,’ she said, and hurried down the aisle.

Gabriel followed, hugging his bag. Hetty was already opening the train door when he reached her. She stepped down on to the platform and held up a hand to help with the bag. Gabriel clung to it and jumped out. The cold wind wrapped itself round their legs, and flurries of snow drifted into their faces. Gabriel turned his back to the wind and gulped. ‘I’m not sure about this.’

Hetty patted his shoulder. ‘Everything will be fine. I called my father before we lost signal. He won’t be long.’

Gabriel stared at the train. It looked very cosy in there. He couldn’t see the hooded stranger in any of the windows. Where was he? And why had Albert got off without saying goodbye? It didn’t make sense. Gabriel turned away from the train and looked over the platform railing. Fields of grey snow stretched into the darkness. ‘We’re nowhere,’ he said.

‘We’re in Humbledown.’ Hetty pointed to a sign, halfway down the platform. ‘We had to get away from it, Gabriel. Hopefully it doesn’t know we got out, but you’d better stand back, out of the light from the windows.’

Gabriel shuffled backwards into the shadows, and Hetty squinted at her watch in the weak beam from a lamp post. ‘Come on, Dad,’ she muttered.

‘Just now, you said IT,’ said Gabriel. ‘It?’

‘You know what I mean,’ said Hetty.

Gabriel nodded. ‘It smelled like something dead.’

‘I think it was, Gabriel.’ Hetty grimaced. ‘Dead but dangerous.’

Gabriel stared speechlessly at Hetty’s friendly face. And then, through the whine of the wind he caught the distinct sound of an engine.

‘Here he comes,’ said Hetty.

The engine noise was accompanied by a loud crunching sound, and then, between two rows of snow-laden hedges, a large vehicle rolled into view.

‘It’s a tractor,’ said Gabriel. For all that it was decked out in fairy lights, tinsel and holly, there was no denying that the big vehicle in the car park was a tractor.

‘Only thing in this weather,’ said Hetty. ‘Come on!’ She dashed to the end of the platform and began to descend the steps.

For a moment, Gabriel found himself gazing at the falling snow. There was something unusual about those elegantly dancing crystals. They seemed to be watching him.

He ran to the end of the platform and down the steps; there he found Hetty embracing a large man in a green boiler suit.

‘Gabriel!’ Releasing Hetty, the big man grabbed Gabriel’s hand and shook it so vigorously Gabriel thought his arm might fall off. ‘Fred Bean,’ the man said in a rumbly voice. ‘Pleased to meet one of the gifted ones, and one with SUCH a big responsibility.’

‘It’s only for a few days,’ said Gabriel, wondering how Fred Bean knew so much.

‘Indeed, but what a privilege.’

Unsure as to which of them was privileged, Gabriel allowed himself to be bundled up into the cab of the tractor. Hetty hauled herself after him, and Fred climbed into the driving seat. It was a bit of a squash, but at least they were dry.

The tractor bumped its way round the small parking area and then they were off, down the narrow lane, the snow thickening around them and the large wipers squeaking across the windscreen.

Fred Bean began to sing carols and Hetty explained that her father always did this for at least a month after Christmas. She invited Gabriel to join in. ‘Everyone knows a carol,’ she said cheerfully. And so they sang their way through the silent countryside with the wind whistling at their backs, and the headlights sweeping across glistening drifts of snow. Gabriel found that he felt completely safe with two people that he really didn’t know at all. He even forgot to ask where they were going until he saw the lights of a small town twinkling ahead of them. Behind the town, the lower slopes of a mountain could be seen, before it disappeared up into the dark sky.

‘Here we are, Meldon itself,’ Fred happily announced.

Gabriel suddenly realised he hadn’t told either of his rescuers where he wanted to go. ‘How did you know?’ he asked Hetty, who was squeezed into his side.

‘Cook,’ she said. ‘You might not have needed us at all, but your father rang her, just in case. And she did the rest.’

They were now rolling along Meldon High Street. The tractor made a difficult manoeuvre round a corner and then they were driving down a long steep road, with snow piled at the kerbs, and terraced houses with holly wreathes on their brightly painted doors. After the lonely wilderness of the fields, it was a surprise to see Christmas lights still twinkling in windows, and trees festooned with coloured globes and tinsel.

They came, at last, to three older buildings, timber-framed and roofed in lichen-covered slate.

‘Number twenty-nine, if I’m not mistaken,’ said Fred, bringing the tractor to a grinding halt. ‘The Carpenter’s Cabin.’

‘You knew the number.’ This time Gabriel wasn’t surprised.

‘Dad knows your uncle,’ said Hetty, climbing from the cab. ‘Jack Silk made him a table.’

‘A fine table,’ said Fred.

Gabriel thanked Fred for the lift and jumped out. Hetty followed him down the path to the front door, and waited while he rang the doorbell. His uncle’s Christmas wreath was hung with strong-smelling cloves and wrinkled tangerines. ‘Sadie’s work,’ Gabriel said with a grin. ‘My cousin,’ he told Hetty.

The door opened and there was Sadie, with the widest smile Gabriel had seen in a long while.

‘Gabriel!’ she shrieked and, flinging her arms round his neck, dragged him into the hall.

‘Hold on, Sadie,’ Gabriel said through slightly embarrassed giggles.

Sadie caught sight of Hetty, lingering on the doorstep. Releasing Gabriel with a squeak of surprise, she said, ‘Who are you?’

‘This is Hetty Bean, who rescued me,’ said Gabriel. He pointed to the tractor and added, ‘And that’s her dad, who brought us here!’

In a tractor,’ cried Sadie, delightedly. ‘Hetty, do you want some tea? And your dad, in the tractor, would he like some?’

Hetty shook her head. ‘I’ll just come in and make sure Gabriel’s safe.’

‘Of course he’s safe.’ Sadie led the way into the kitchen.

Uncle Jack gave Gabriel a hug and shook Hetty’s hand, and then Hetty gave a brief account of the stranger on the train, Albert’s disappearance and her role in Gabriel’s rescue.

Mr Silk looked concerned. ‘I don’t like the sound of this hooded stranger,’ he said. ‘What do you mean about his smell?’

Hetty struggled for an answer and Gabriel said, ‘He smelled like something rotten, you know, dead.’

‘And he knew you were the Keeper?’ asked his uncle.

Gabriel nervously pinched his nose and nodded. ‘He said I’d failed in my duty –’ he shrugged – ‘and then he vanished.’

‘Vanished? Just like that?’ Sadie raised her hands questioningly. ‘Pouff ! Into thin air?’

‘That’s just about it,’ Gabriel agreed.

‘Well!’ Mr Silk sighed. ‘Stranger things have happened, I suppose. These are mysterious times.’

‘Indeed,’ said Hetty.

Mr Silk wasn’t quite satisfied. ‘Wait,’ he said as Hetty turned to go. ‘So you’re a friend of the cook at Gabriel’s school?’

‘I’m the assistant cook,’ she admitted. ‘Sort of apprentice really, learning on the job. I love cooking. And then, because I live in Meldon, Cook recruited me, so to speak.’ Hetty began to look nervous. ‘This is my first assignment, and I hope I haven’t made a mess of it. I’ve done my best, I’m sure.’

Uncle Jack was still looking puzzled, so Hetty went on to explain that Cook had gathered together a group of people who could be trusted to watch out for vulnerable children. ‘Not that Gabriel is at all vulnerable,’ she added quickly. ‘But because of his great . . . responsibility, I was chosen to watch out for him, and his bag, of course. His designated companion, Albert Blackstaff, appeared to have deserted him.’

Uncle Jack stroked his chin and said, ‘I see.’ Gabriel noticed that his uncle looked very pale and anxious.

‘I think I am what is called a Guardian,’ said Hetty, now looking rather flustered.

Sadie suddenly piped up, ‘We should look in Gabriel’s bag. I mean, it is in your bag, isn’t it, Gabe? The great responsibility?’

‘The cloak, yes.’ Gabriel put his bag on the table and unzipped it. Everyone watched as he took out his father’s old jacket and unrolled it. There lay the folded cloak, glimmering softly under the kitchen light.

‘Wow!’ said Sadie. ‘All that magic lying on our old table.’

Gabriel grinned. He passed his hand over the velvet and felt – nothing. But it was surely the king’s cloak, just as it had been when his father had folded it into the jacket. ‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘There it is.’ But was it? A chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong. He caught Sadie’s eye. She looked puzzled.

‘Thank goodness,’ said Hetty. ‘I thought perhaps I hadn’t been vigilant enough.’

‘All’s well, Hetty,’ said Mr Silk, looking very relieved, ‘and thank you for delivering our Gabriel.’

‘It was such an – an exciting experience,’ said Hetty beaming, ‘but I must dash now. Dad will be freezing. I’ll be up at Swallow Farm for a while – so if I’m needed . . .’

‘We know where to find you,’ said Mr Silk. He saw Hetty to the door and came back holding a black fur hat. ‘She gave me this,’ he said.

‘Albert Blackstaff ’s hat!’ Gabriel exclaimed. ‘Hetty put it in her pocket.’

‘That man should have told you he was leaving the train,’ said his uncle, frowning. ‘Your father will have something to say about this.’

Sadie took the hat from her father and hung it in the hall. ‘I’ve cooked your favourite supper,’ she told Gabriel when she came back. ‘But first I want to show you your room.’

Gabriel laid the cloak carefully in his bag and followed Sadie up the narrow staircase. At the top she led him along a corridor and into the low-ceilinged room he remembered so well. He was unprepared for all the glitter inside, however. Fairy lights hung from the wide oak beams, tinsel decorated the window frames and holly had been slung across the bed’s headboard.

‘Wow!’ said Gabriel.

‘It’s still Christmas,’ Sadie explained.

‘It looks great.’ Gabriel put his bag on the bed.

Sadie grinned and flicked her long pigtail over her shoulder. ‘I’ll go and warm up the casserole.’

‘Can you wait a minute?’ Gabriel drew the cloak out of his bag. ‘Something’s not right.’

Sadie hovered in the doorway. ‘Not right?’

‘Sometimes, when I’m feeling a bit down,’ said Gabriel, ‘I put the cloak on. Dad doesn’t mind. And the cloak always changes my mood.’

‘Do you feel like the king is there, with you?’ Sadie hesitated. ‘I know you can sometimes become other people when you put on their clothes. But the king? That would be amazing.’

‘Sometimes I see him, but mostly I just feel a great happiness. Not an ordinary happiness, but something very, very powerful.’ As he said this Gabriel drew the cloak around his shoulders. ‘Oh, Sadie,’ he groaned, ‘it’s gone. There’s nothing – nothing.’

Sadie pulled back her pigtail and regarded it with a thoughtful expression, almost as though it were giving her ideas. ‘Maybe it was the journey,’ she suggested. ‘All that shaking about and travelling so far from where the cloak has been living.’

‘But I don’t feel anything, Sadie. The cloak looks just the same but . . .’ he hesitated. ‘I can’t reach its power. I . . . I can’t sense anything.’

‘Then perhaps it’s you,’ Sadie suggested.

Gabriel was silent. Not once, since he was four years old, had he ever lost his seventh sense. He had often wished to be free of it, but now, when it was so vital to know what had happened to the cloak, had his seventh sense abandoned him?

‘To tell the truth, it does seem a bit – not quite itself, if you know what I mean,’ Sadie admitted.

Gabriel nodded dumbly.

‘Come and have some supper,’ Sadie suggested. ‘You’ll feel better after you’ve had some food, and then you can try again.’

‘OK,’ Gabriel said uneasily. He laid the cloak carefully on his bed

‘By the way, if you think Dad’s a bit down, it’s Cecily, the sorceress. She swooped in on us at dawn this morning.’

‘Not the awful stepmother?’ said Gabriel, deeply sympathetic. ‘And was Septimus the septic mouse with her?’

Sadie nodded. ‘And brother dog. Come on, let’s forget them.’

Mr Silk had returned to his workroom, but when he smelled cooking he came back into the kitchen. ‘Cold weather always makes you extra hungry,’ he said.

Sadie’s casserole was as delicious as usual, but Gabriel couldn’t enjoy it because of a nagging worry about the cloak. Halfway through the meal he decided to try to contact his parents.

‘Bad signal here,’ said his uncle. ‘Try the landline when you’ve finished your supper.’

Gabriel bolted down the last chunk of chicken and then phoned his father’s mobile. No answer. He tried his aunt’s house and one of his cousins picked up the receiver – the youngest, by the sound of it. When Gabriel asked to speak to his mother the little voice chirped, ‘Your mum is having a crisis!’

‘Crisis?’ Gabriel said hoarsely. ‘What d’you mean crisis?’

‘It’s bad,’ said the squeaky voice.

Gabriel’s stomach lurched. ‘I want to speak to my mum, Annie!’

‘I’m Alice.’ She sounded offended.

‘Well, Alice, PLEASE can you get –’

The receiver must have been snatched out of Alice’s hand, because, to Gabriel’s great relief, his mother said, ‘Gabriel, love, are you all right?’

‘Yes, yes. I got here, Mum. Why are you having a crisis?’

‘Oh, Gabriel, it’s dreadful. We’ve only just heard about poor Albert. They rang us from the hospital. And you went all that way alone.’ Mrs Silk spoke very fast, on she went, and Gabriel could only stand there, listening to his mother’s jerky sentences in bewilderment. ‘Oh, Gabriel, love, are you all right? And the – you-know-what? Dad is so concerned. He’s already in Belgium, but he wants to get back as soon as he can.’

Gabriel shook his head and turned a frowning face to Sadie and his uncle.

‘Gabe, what’s wrong?’ Sadie jumped up and came over to him.

Mrs Silk was still rattling on, and Gabriel had to speak over her to say, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mum. Albert was on the train.’

This brought Mrs Silk to a dramatic halt. Gabriel heard a gasp, then silence. His troubled face brought his uncle to the phone. Taking the receiver from Gabriel, he said, ‘What’s up, Kate?’

More bubbling chatter from Mrs Silk. Gabriel and Sadie retreated to the table and sat down, but even at a distance Gabriel could hear the hysteria in his mother’s voice. At length, his uncle said, ‘That’s dreadful. A vicious attack, you say? Let us know if anything . . . you know. Yes, Gabriel is quite safe.’

There was another burst of sound from the phone, and Mr Silk said, ‘Calm down, Kate. We have the cloak. If this false Albert tried to take it, he didn’t succeed. Yes, yes. Goodbye, Kate.

‘Bad news,’ Mr Silk told the children. ‘The real Albert Blackstaff was found in the toilets at Euston Station. Unconscious, his hands tied, in a stall locked from the inside. So you were accompanied by an imposter, Gabriel.’

‘He’s not going to die, is he, the real Albert?’ cried Sadie.

‘No, no,’ said her father, ‘and the cloak is safe, so . . .’ He attempted a smile. ‘It is safe, isn’t it, Gabriel?’

Gabriel stared grimly at his uncle. ‘No, it’s not safe,’ he said. He ran up to his room and lifted the cloak into his arms. It looked so familiar, so very like the one he knew, and yet, now, when he held it, the velvet gave him nothing, no warmth, no comfort. This cloak was cold and heavy, as though it had been made by someone without a heart. Holding it as far from his body as he could, he went back to the kitchen. ‘It’s the wrong one,’ he said. ‘I knew it.’

‘Looks like the cloak I remember,’ said his uncle.

‘Well, someone has made another one, just like the original. Someone who knew exactly what it looked like.’ Gabriel tried not to sound panicky, but he couldn’t stop his voice from rising like the whine of an anguished dog. ‘The false Albert must have swapped the cloaks while I was getting tea. And then he got off the train.’ Gabriel threw the loathsome garment on the floor and sank into a chair.

They all stared at the cloak, twinkling deceptively, even in shadow. Mr Silk picked it up. ‘If this isn’t the real thing, someone’s done an incredible job.’

Gabriel shook his head, and went on shaking it, until Sadie told him it might fall off.

‘I lost it,’ Gabriel said dismally. ‘The king’s cloak. What happens now, Uncle Jack? I mean, you’re from the family of Keepers, too.’

Gabriel’s uncle looked worried, and it was Sadie who said they would just have to find the cloak, wouldn’t they. ‘Where did the false Albert leave the train?’ she asked.

Gabriel screwed up his eyes, trying to remember. But he hadn’t noticed the name of the station, only that it had been the last stop before they got off at Humbledown.

‘Hmm,’ Sadie said thoughtfully. ‘The one before Humbledown is Howgrave. That doesn’t help much, I suppose. It’s a big town. So he could be anywhere by now.’ She glanced at her father. He looked utterly downcast.