Читать книгу The 1,000-year-old Boy - Ross Welford, Ross Welford - Страница 20

I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at the back door of the cottage in the woods where they had taken Roxy inside, but eventually I ran.

I meant to get help: tell Dad, or whoever, what had happened, and it would all be OK, but, in my panic, I got lost.

I know, the woods aren’t even that big, but there were no paths, and I kept criss-crossing my way through, passing the big gorse bush at least twice, and then trying to head uphill because I knew that that, at any rate, would be sort of the right direction.

It must have been nearly an hour later when I emerged, sweating and filthy and panting and scared, at the top of the slope, a little way along from Roxy’s ‘garage’. I began running back to our house, and there she was.

I stared, open-mouthed, at Roxy, looking so chilled, sitting in the doorway of the shed beneath the still-flickering –––AGE sign. Shouldn’t she, I wondered, be a bit more traumatised after her encounter with the witch of the woods? She certainly didn’t look it.

‘Your dad was here,’ said Roxy. ‘Well, there. Looking over the fence. He’s nice. He’s called Ben.’

‘Yeah, Roxy. I know. He’s my dad.’ I was thrown by all this. I wanted to know what had happened to her.

‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘If that’s why you look so weird?’

‘Do I?’

She inspected me, head on one side, really considering the question.

‘Yep. You’re covered in mud, your hair’s full of leaves and your face is red and sweaty. That’s weird to me.’

‘But what about you? What happened?’

‘Well—’ she began but was interrupted.

‘There you are,’ said Dad, peering over the back fence, which came up to his chin. ‘Cor! What happened to you? You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards!’

This was far closer to the truth than I actually wanted to admit.

And why was that? Why, at that very instant, did I not say something like this:

‘Wow, Dad – you’ll never believe what’s just happened! Me and Roxy (Roxy, meet Dad, Dad this is Roxy) have just found this amazing house in the woods. Did you know it was there? It’s, like, really well hidden. And this lady lives there that Roxy reckons is a witch, which obviously she isn’t, although she looks like one! And anyway Roxy fell into their backyard and banged her head, but it looks like she’s OK now. Cool, huh, Dad?’

But I didn’t. And I think I know why.

Apart from the fact that we’d been trespassing – all those signs and barbed wire had ensured that I wasn’t even a tiny bit relaxed about our whole adventure – it was Roxy’s casual behaviour that was freaking me out a bit. I had noticed a thick surgical dressing stuck behind her ear by her hairline.

It all made me think that there was something else going on here. Something that could be spoilt if I said too much.

I also felt bad about not rescuing her. About standing still like a shop dummy while Roxy, bleeding, was carried into a strange house. I don’t think Dad would have been impressed by that.

And so I lied – and I am the world’s worst liar. When Dad said his ‘dragged through a hedge backwards’ thing, I just laughed like it was the funniest thing I’d ever heard.

‘Yeah! I know! Just exploring, you know, Dad! Got a bit lost and that, but hey – no bones broken, eh? Ha ha!’

Dad gave me a funny look. ‘Well, get in here sharpish, son. I want your help with the skirting boards.’ He turned to go back in the house.

Wonderful, I thought. More decorating. The house hadn’t been in great condition when we moved in.

We watched him go, before Roxy said to me, ‘You’re a lousy liar, Aidan. If there were prizes for bad acting, you’d win them all. In fact …’

‘Yeah, yeah – all right. Thanks a lot. It did the job. I want to know what happened to you.’

Inside the shed, Roxy sat behind the tatty little desk. Her fingers were together like a tent in front of her mouth, and her elbows were on the table. I swear she was trying to be all cool and intimidating, but she was too small and scruffy to carry it off. Instead she looked like a kid impersonating a stern headmistress.

‘It’s stranger than we thought,’ she said.

‘It’s stranger than you thought,’ I corrected her. ‘To me, it’s some lady and her kid living a quiet life in a secluded house until you fall into their backyard.’

‘She had a cauldron, a black cat and a broomstick,’ said Roxy, counting them off on her fingers, and nodding her head as if that proved everything.

‘No, Roxy. She had a cooking pot, a black-and-white cat and a … I dunno … a brush, like we’ve all got at home.’

‘But you didn’t see inside the house.’

‘Well, no. But I was hoping you were going to tell me. By the way – how’s your head?’

Roxy touched the back of her ear gently and frowned. ‘OK, really. Doesn’t hurt any more. She put some lotion on it.’

‘You mean a potion,’ I scoffed.

She narrowed her eyes at me. ‘If you’re just going to mock me then you can get out of my garage.’ She pointed at the door.

I sighed. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just … well, you do know that witches don’t exist? That magic and stuff aren’t real? It’s all just stories. You do know that?’ I was being sincere, and I was careful to avoid any tone of voice that might have sounded teasing.

Roxy visibly relaxed. ‘I do know that. Or at least I did.’

She reached under the desk and pulled out a laptop computer and flipped it open. Roxy hit a few keys and a film started. As it did, my mouth fell open until my jaw hit my knees. Well, almost. You know what I mean.