rush out and exchange the photo,’ he waved the orange envelope. ‘I’m sorry I forgot about the mice.’
‘Yellow cats, red cats?’ said Grandma Bone, with a catch in her voice. Charlie could have sworn that she was afraid.
‘Well, I suppose they did a good job,’ said Maisie, beginning to forgive Charlie. ‘I’d better tidy the little bodies.’
Grandma Bone was not in a forgiving mood. ‘I knew it,’ she muttered angrily. ‘You brought them here, you wretched boy. You’re like a magnet. Bad blood mixed with endowed. It never works. I shan’t rest easy until you’re shut up in Bloor’s.’
‘Shut up? You mean I won’t be coming out?’
‘Weekends,’ snapped Grandma Bone. ‘Unfortunately.’ Out she swept, her black boots rapping on the floor like drumsticks.
‘I didn’t know that I would be shut up,’ cried Charlie.
‘Nor did I, love,’ puffed Maisie, busily disinfecting the floor. ‘What do I know of these fancy schools? Your mother shouldn’t bring home so much fruit and veg. Beats me how the Pest Control knew about it. I never told them.’
‘The cats,’ said Charlie. ‘They knew.’
‘You’ll be telling me next that cats can fly,’ muttered Maisie.
Perhaps those cats can, thought Charlie. Aries, Leo and Sagittarius were not ordinary cats, that was for sure. And Charlie had a suspicion that Grandma Bone knew this. But why was she afraid of them?
He went to his room to make the birthday card. But he found it hard to concentrate. The card went crooked, he left the ‘h’ out of birthday, and then the speech-balloon slipped over Runner Bean’s ear. Charlie flung down the scissors. Ever since he’d discovered he could hear photographs, his world had been turned upside down. If only he’d been able to keep quiet about the voices, he wouldn’t have had to go to a horrible school where he’d be imprisoned for weeks at a time, with a lot of weird children who did peculiar things.
He heard his mother come in and call to Maisie. If only she would take his side and fight the Yewbeams. But she seemed to be afraid of them. Somehow, Charlie would have to fight them himself.
Maisie had cooked vegetable spaghetti for lunch. Charlie wondered about the mice in the larder, but kept his thoughts to himself. His mother had brought him a sapphire blue cape, which she made him try on as soon as the spaghetti was finished. The cape reached almost to Charlie’s knees. It had slits at the sides for his arms and a soft hood hung down the back.
‘I’m not going to wear a cape in the street,’ said Charlie, ‘and that’s final. Everyone’ll laugh at me.’
‘But Charlie, there’ll be other children wearing them,’ said his mother. ‘And some will be in purple or green.’
‘Not in our part of town,’ said Charlie, pulling off the cape. ‘They’ll all be from the Heights.’
The Heights sprawled up the side of a wooded hill that looked down on the city. The houses were tall and grand and the people in them lacked for nothing. The large gardens were full of flowers that seemed to bloom all year.
‘I know for a fact that not every child will come from the Heights,’ said Charlie’s mother. ‘There’s a girl just two streets away, Olivia Vertigo, she was in the papers. She’ll be in Drama, so you’ll see her in a purple cape.’
‘Huh!’ muttered Charlie. ‘If you mean Dragon Street, that’s just as smart as the Heights.’ He decided he’d tuck the cape under his anorak until he reached the academy.
Even Maisie was beginning to give in. ‘It’s really cute,’ she said of the blue cape. ‘Such a nice colour.’
Charlie grudgingly took the cape up to his room and stuffed it in a drawer. (Later his mother would come up and carefully hang it in the wardrobe). Then he put Benjamin’s birthday card in the orange envelope and ran downstairs. ‘I’m going to Benjamin’s birthday now,’ he called to his mother.
Runner Bean greeted him with a loud barking. He wouldn’t even let Charlie through the front door.
‘What’s the matter with Runner?’ he shouted as Benjamin came bounding down the stairs.
‘It’s that case you left,’ said Benjamin. ‘He hates it. I pushed it under the bed like you said, but Runner growled and snarled and tried to pull it out again. He’s chewed up the bag and scratched the lid with his claws.’
Charlie managed to squeeze past the door while Benjamin hauled Runner Bean away. At length the dog gave a great howl, ran down the passage and banged through his dog-flap into the back garden.
Now that Charlie had arrived, Benjamin wanted to open his present. He ran upstairs to get it.
There was absolutely no sign that a party was about to take place. Benjamin’s parents worked every day of the week and Saturdays as well. Charlie wished he’d asked Maisie to make a cake for his friend, but he’d had too much on his mind.
‘It looks really exciting,’ said Benjamin, shaking the box. ‘Come on, let’s go into the living-room.’
No sign here of a party either.
Benjamin sat on the floor and opened the box. ‘Wow! A dog!’ he said.
Charlie pulled the dog’s tail and Dr Tolly’s voice rapped out the instructions.
Benjamin was so excited he could hardly speak. At last he managed to say, ‘Thanks, Charlie. Thanks. Wow, thanks!’
‘I should have got you a new tape,’ said Charlie, ‘then you’d have . . .’
He was interrupted by Runner Bean, who tore into the room barking madly. He paced round the metal dog, glaring at it, and then he began to whine.
‘He’s jealous,’ said Benjamin. ‘That’s all.’ He flung his arms around Runner Bean, saying, ‘I love you, Runner. You know I do. I couldn’t live without you.’
The big dog licked Benjamin’s face. He was everything to Benjamin: mother, father, brother and grandparent. He was always there when Benjamin’s parents were out. And the boy could go anywhere, at any time of day or night. As long as Runner Bean was with him, he was safe.
Charlie gave Benjamin the birthday card. ‘I made it after all,’ he said.
Benjamin didn’t notice any of Charlie’s mistakes. Gazing at the picture, he told Charlie it was the best card he’d ever had in his life. And then Runner Bean looked up at the ceiling and howled.
Tap! Tap! Tap! The sound was faint but definite. Benjamin’s room was right above them.
‘It’s that metal case,’ said Benjamin. ‘I wish you’d take it away. There could be a bomb in it, or something.’
‘Miss Ingledew didn’t look like a terrorist,’ said Charlie. ‘Nor did Dr Tolly.’
‘How d’you know?’ said Benjamin. ‘Terrorists are good at disguises. Let’s go and have a look.’
Runner Bean followed the boys upstairs, growling softly. This time he wouldn’t even come into the bedroom.
Charlie pulled the bag from under the bed and, together, the boys drew out the metal case. The tapping had stopped. Charlie undid the clasps on either side of the handle, but the case wouldn’t open. It was locked, and the key was missing.
‘Didn’t that woman tell you what was inside?’ said Benjamin.
Charlie shook his head. ‘She said she didn’t want to know. Whatever it is, it was swapped for a baby. Her very own niece.’
‘A baby?’ Benjamin’s mouth dropped open. ‘That’s terrible.’
Charlie was beginning to feel guilty. ‘We’ll put it in the cupboard under the stairs,’ he said.