On and on.
‘How d’you know where to go, Auntie Pearl?’ Henry’s voice sounded small and fearful.
‘A map in my head,’ she said. ‘My sister put it there.’ And there was the ghost of a smile in her voice. ‘We’re looking for an arch with carvings on it, birds and beasts and flowers and things.’
Henry became aware of a wall beside them. Not the usual kind of wall, but a screen of trees, laced with stone. A wall that vanished now and then, like a memory, a dream, a wall that could never be touched, a wall that would never let you through. And, all at once, there was the arch that would allow them into a place that had appeared to be forbidden.
‘Not birds and beasts,’ Henry whispered. For the carvings in the pale stone pillars of the arch were not birds, they were the bones of sad, fragile creatures that perhaps no longer existed.
‘It’s nearly midnight,’ said Pearl. ‘We’re just in time.’
‘Midnight already?’ Henry sat up very straight in his seat. Pearl accelerated a little, as though she wanted to get through the arch as soon as possible. They passed under the big, ghostly stones and emerged into total darkness.
The engine stopped. The headlights went out. Perhaps they were not in the car at all, for Henry couldn’t feel the rim of his seat, or his safety belt. He could hardly breathe. The darkness all about them was so dense and so black it seemed to smother them.
Enkidu growled.
Henry reached for Pearl’s hand. He could feel nothing.
‘It’ll be all right, Henry.’ Her voice came from a long way away.
Slowly the impenetrable darkness began to lighten. The smothering feeling lifted and Henry could hear the reassuring purr of the engine. They were moving again, and as they moved a peculiar thing happened. Ahead of them the sun began to rise; higher and higher, faster and faster. The night clouds melted away, leaving the sky a clear ice-blue.
‘There,’ said Pearl, pulling down her sunshield. ‘All is well.’
‘Is it?’ Henry was baffled by the sudden appearance of the sun. What had happened to the hours between midnight and sunrise? ‘You said there were birds on the arch. Those weren’t birds.’
‘Treasure’s writing is a little . . . untidy.’ Pearl gave an unconvincing chuckle.
They were travelling along a road that ran between rows of warehouses. Beyond them a vast forest stretched as far as the eye could see. The huge doors in every warehouse had been thrown wide open, as though in expectation of some giant delivery.
‘Weird,’ said Henry. ‘We seem so far from anywhere.’
‘The equinox,’ his aunt murmured.
‘The equinox?’ Henry inquired.
‘The sun tips over the horizon,’ she said, ‘and night is as long as day.’ It was the only explanation that she seemed prepared to give.
When they had passed the warehouses, a church spire came into view, and then a cluster of roofs. Pearl was driving dangerously fast, Henry thought. Perhaps she was trying to catch a mirage before it disappeared. But as they drew closer to the buildings, Henry could see that it was a mirage; they were about to enter a small town.
‘Timeless’ said a sign beside the road.
Henry could see nothing special about the place, except that the frost and sunlight made it look very bright.
‘There it is,’ cried Pearl. ‘I’m dying for a cup of tea.’
They stopped outside a cafe with a pink and orange awning. Above the awning, the words, ‘Martha’s Cafe’ had been painted in blue and orange, the top of each letter decorated with a pink cupcake. Behind the cafe, trees loomed – their naked branches festooned with ivy.
Henry was hungry again. Pearl ordered eggs on toast for them both, tea for herself and hot chocolate for Henry. Her mood had changed again. Her smile had gone. She ate quickly and when she had finished her breakfast, she stood up, saying, ‘I’m just going to tidy my hair.’ And then she came round the table and kissed Henry’s cheek.
It was the first time that Pearl had kissed him before going to the toilet. He hoped she wasn’t going to make a habit of it.
Henry finished his meal and drained his cup. Pearl was taking a long time. Her hair had looked perfectly tidy. After all she’d been inside a car all day, or was it all night? He noticed two children sitting at a table by the window: a boy and a girl, about his age. They wore purple-coloured sweaters and grey trousers. The girl had long brown hair, a small nose and a wide, serious face. They boy looked exactly the same, only his hair was short. They were both staring at him.
Henry returned their stare and then, feeling self-conscious looked down at his plate. Several minutes passed. What was Pearl doing? He didn’t like to go and look in the Ladies’ cloakroom.
The children were still staring at him. Henry felt uncomfortable. All at once the girl stood up and came over to his table.
‘Are you meeting someone here?’ she asked.
‘Er, no,’ said Henry.
‘Was that your gran who just went to the cloakroom?’
‘My aunt,’ said Henry.
‘Well . . .’ The girl swung from foot to foot. ‘I think she’s forgotten you.’
‘No, she hasn’t,’ said Henry indignantly. ‘She’s just taking a long time.’
The girl shook her head regretfully. ‘We just saw her get into a blue car that was parked outside.’
‘I expect she was fetching something she’d forgotten,’ said Henry, wondering why Pearl had gone out without telling him. He had his back to the entrance and couldn’t see the cloakroom door.
‘She drove away,’ said the girl.
Henry felt a bit sick. He chewed his lip. ‘She couldn’t have.’
The girl pulled out a chair and sat opposite him, then the boy came over and stood between them. He had a calm, confident expression. ‘She hasn’t come back,’ he said. ‘I’ve been watching.’
Henry was slightly annoyed. What business did these children have, watching him and his aunt? He felt his heart thumping and told himself he wasn’t worried.
‘D’you want to come home with us?’ asked the girl.
‘No,’ Henry said fiercely. ‘I’ll wait here. I know my aunt will come back.’
‘We’ll wait with you.’ The boy pulled a chair across from another table and sat down.
Henry could see now that the boy was older than the girl; he was also quite a bit taller. He obviously liked to take control of certain situations.
‘My name’s Peter,’ said the boy. ‘Peter Reed. And this is Penny.’ He nodded at the girl who gave Henry a weak smile.
Henry thought it would be churlish not to give them a bit more information about himself, so he told them his name and where he had come from. When he described the hurried drive through the night, Peter gave Penny a slightly furtive smile. Henry kept his secret to himself. In the friendly school at home, they were used to him and never pried. But now he was in unfamiliar territory and he knew he must be ‘on his guard’.
‘We always come here early on Sunday mornings,’ said Peter. ‘You get the best doughnuts.’
‘Want one?’ asked Penny.
Henry