Читать книгу The Ruby Redfort Collection: 4-6: Feed the Fear; Pick Your Poison; Blink and You Die - Lauren Child - Страница 30

PING-PONG WAS BECOMING INCREASINGLY DIFFICULT because the wind was beginning to pick up and the four of them spent most of the time chasing the ball round the park. After a half-hour they gave up. Mouse and Clancy had to head home and Elliot went on over to Del’s place. Ruby said she’d join him, but first she had to pop home to pick up Bug.

‘He could do with the exercise; he’s been taking it easy since I got injured,’ said Ruby. ‘Hey, head on without me, I’ll see you in a while, OK.’

Ruby went home and collected the dog, then hit the streets. The wind made Bug uneasy. He didn’t like it blowing into his ears or ruffling through his fur. It was as if he felt some unknown presence just to his side or close behind him; someone invisible.

He was the same with ghosts, or at least that’s what Elliot believed.

Whenever Bug or any dog for that matter would stop still and bark for no visible reason, Elliot would say, ‘You wanna know why he’s barking? Spooky dead things that only dogs pick up on.’

Unluckily for Bug, the Twinford county region was prone to getting these short-lived but violent wind storms. They blew in fast and blew out fast. Hard to predict, but destined to repeat over and over, gaining in force during the season until they eventually moved on. The locals often referred to them as Twinford gusters – they usually began in mid-October and whirled away till November arrived, but occasionally they arrived early and hit in September. When this happened, they usually culminated in a truly fearsome coming-together of rain, wind, thunder and lightning. It seemed that this year was a year when one might want to batten down the hatches.

When it came to storms, Ruby did not feel the same way as Bug. The storm’s force, only made visible by what it tore up or tossed into the air, terrified the dog, his animal instinct telling him this was bad news. But Ruby loved it. The sheer energy with which it churned the sea and bent the trees; all this she found exhilarating. Sure it was dangerous, but somehow it transferred its energy and made her feel invincible.

Ruby called to the husky, who reluctantly got to his feet and followed her out of the back door. She put him on the leash, not because he needed to be controlled (Bug was a very well-trained husky), but because the wind was already making him anxious, as if he might be required to do something – the result was one on-edge dog.

They walked all the way to Del’s place, skirting through the back streets. The house backed onto the ocean and Ruby could hear the waves crashing onto the beach as she passed through the front gate. She didn’t bother to knock on the door, but instead slipped through the gap to the side of the house where she knew Del would be. Del was an outdoor type and when hanging out at home was usually in her yard fixing something or kicking, throwing, or catching a ball, maybe twirling a hoolahoop or standing on her head. Today she was sitting on the wooden yard chairs with Elliot, both watching the ocean. The sea was bringing in some big waves and there were a lot of surfers out – the sound of the ocean boomed loud and the wind carried their words.

‘Hey Rube,’ Del said, patting the seat next to her, ‘sit yourself down. Bug need a drink?’ She was up and walking towards the kitchen.

‘Sure,’ said Ruby, ‘you got any strawberry-shake?’

Del raised an eyebrow. ‘Your dog drinks strawberry-shake?’

‘Yeah, funny one Del, I might crack a smile one day.’

When Del came back the four of them (dog included) sat there contemplating the ocean. The water was dotted with the surfers who sat astride boards waiting for the right wave to roll in.

‘Do you think Bug could surf?’ asked Elliot.

‘Unassisted you mean?’ asked Ruby.

Elliot nodded.

‘I’ve taken him out with me a few times; he’s just not got the hang of getting up on the board.’

‘But he’s interested?’ asked Del.

‘Oh, he’s got an interest all right. Bug loves the water, he’s just not so dexterous; it’s hard when you don’t have thumbs.’

‘Yeah,’ said Del, ‘I guess he’s not really a grabber.’

‘No, a dog can’t grab,’ agreed Ruby, ‘not even Bug.’

‘He’s pretty smart for a dog,’ said Del. ‘What do you think he would be if he was a human?’

‘I think he would do a job that involved working with the general public,’ said Ruby. ‘He’s a people person.’

While Del and Ruby were discussing Bug’s human career prospects, Elliot was thinking. Finally he piped up.

‘Do you think he could help solve the yellow shoe mystery?’

‘What?’ said Del.

‘Who?’ said Ruby.

‘Bug,’ said Elliot.

‘How?’ said Ruby.

‘What?’ said Del again. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You know, the yellow shoes, the ones that got stolen the other night by that ghoul,’ said Elliot. Del was looking blank.

‘How can you not know this? Where have you been? Mars?’

‘Florida, actually,’ Del pointed to her extremely tanned face. ‘If you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been on summer vacation.’

‘Yeah, well, you’ve missed a lot,’ said Elliot.

‘So exactly how are you proposing Bug help out with this investigation?’ asked Ruby for the second time.

‘By, you know, sniffing around and finding that ghost that took the shoes from the Scarlet Pagoda.’

‘Are you seriously halfway to the planet no-brain?’ spluttered Del. ‘You think a ghost stole the shoes?’

‘It’s what everyone is saying,’ said Elliot.

‘You’re telling me you actually believe in ghosts?’ said Del.

‘Why not? Animals believe in them, they can sense them; humans have lost this ability but dogs and cats can tune into spectre vibes,’ said Elliot.

Del looked at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘It’s what makes the fur go all upwards and stand on end; they just sense paranormal activity and they react.’

Elliot said this like it explained everything – ghosts existed because animals’ fur stood on end from time to time, and there it was, fact.

‘Where do you get your information?’ asked Ruby.

‘From books,’ confirmed Elliot, ‘and this TV show I watched. This man was interviewed about this house he rented and as he was looking around the place, and the dog followed him to every room, until he got to the bathroom and his dog, Buswell, refused to step inside.’

‘Maybe he didn’t need to go,’ said Del.

Elliot ignored her. ‘Buswell stood there and growled and later when the man spoke to the guy who had rented him the place, the guy told him that someone had actually died in there from slipping on a bar of soap.’

‘They died from slipping on a bar of soap?’ said Ruby.

‘Yeah,’ confirmed Elliot.

‘Actually in that bathroom?’ she asked.

‘Not exactly in the bathroom but about an hour later in the emergency room at St Angelina’s, but it was the soap that did it.’

‘So why wouldn’t the ghost haunt the emergency room at St Angelina’s hospital?’ asked Del. ‘Why would it travel all the way back to the bathroom of its apartment?’

‘Because I guess it felt more comfortable there,’ said Elliot.

‘And how did it even get there?’

‘I don’t know, I’m not a ghost expert, maybe on the bus?’ said Elliot.

‘Oh man, that is the lamest story,’ spluttered Del. ‘Rube, is that lame or what?’

Ruby had stopped paying attention and was instead thinking about the evening at the Scarlet Pagoda; would Bug have followed her down that corridor, would his fur have stood on end? Red had certainly experienced something weird, something she couldn’t actually explain. But still she nodded at Del and said, ‘It’s the soap they should be scared of, not the ghost hanging out in the bathroom.’

On her way back from Del’s, inspired by the story of the soap ghost, Ruby turned her mind to the poetry ghost. She decided to call in at the City Library and see if she could borrow a copy of Mr Okra’s favourite book, A Line Through My Centre. However, as it turned out, this was easier said than done.

‘I’m afraid we don’t have a copy. We used to many years back but it’s long since disappeared and no one thought to replace it,’ said Mr Lithgo. He knew a lot about the books the library held, unsurprising because he seemed to have been there since the first stone was laid. Mr Lithgo made calls to the various smaller Twinford libraries, but none of them had ever owned a copy. ‘It was never considered very important and, I have to say, it is very rarely requested.’

Next stop for Ruby was Penny Books, a second-hand store that dealt in any kind of literature; popular, unpopular, in print or out of print.

Ray Penny shook his head. ‘I can do my best to track down a copy, but it may take a while.’

‘Call me as soon as you find one, would you?’ said Ruby. ‘I’ll come right over the second you call.’

‘Will do Ruby,’ said Ray. ‘Sounds real important.’