Invisible! (10 page)

Three forty-five. Rosie arrived home to find a police car parked behind the old ambulance. It was drizzling so there was no fire and nobody outside. The rear doors stood open. She mounted the step and looked in. Her parents and the two officers, sitting on chairs and bunks, practically filled the place.

Mummy Bear smiled. ‘Come on in, sweetheart. Room for a little one.' She budged up and Rosie sat beside her on the bunk, hugging her bag.

One of the officers was talking to Daddy Bear. ‘Before, you said you were here last night. Now you say you were out searching for some kid. Which is true?'

Daddy Bear sighed. ‘I thought you meant like, late. We
were
out earlier, looking for Peter Rabbit.'

The officer gazed at the big traveller through narrowed eyes. ‘I hope you're not pulling my leg, sir, because this is no joking matter.'

‘I'm not pulling your leg. What makes you think I am?'

‘Oh come
on
, sir. Daddy Bear, Mummy Bear, and now Peter Rabbit. Where'd you find the kid – on Mr McGregor's carrot patch?'

‘We didn't find him at all. You should be out looking for him now, instead of harrassing innocent citizens.'

‘He's turned up,' interrupted Rosie. ‘He was at his gran's.'

The officer nodded. ‘They usually are, love.' He turned back to Daddy Bear. ‘So that's why you were seen driving along the Sowerby Road at eight-fifteen last night – you were looking for Peter Rabbit?'

‘Not me, Sergeant. That'd be my wife and young Rosie. I was with the kid's dad in his car.'

‘I see. And the only thing you were interested in last night was finding Peter Rabbit?'

‘That's correct.'

‘So the name Sowerby Old Hall means nothing to you?'

‘Sowerby Old Hall? Not a thing, Sergeant. Should it?'

‘That rather depends, sir.'

‘On what?'

‘On whether you're fond of ancient Greek sculpture. Fond enough to nick a three thousand-year-old life-size bronze statue of Poseidon from the middle of an ornamental pond.'

Daddy Bear pulled a face. ‘Ancient Greek sculpture? I can take it or leave it, Sergeant. Mostly I leave it, because as you see …' He indicated the snug compartment with a sweep of his brawny arm. ‘We don't have a lot of room here for life-size statues, of Poseidon or anybody else.' He grinned. ‘Of course you're welcome to search the place if you suspect the thing's cunningly concealed behind a false wall or something. Far be it from me to obstruct a police officer in the execution of his duty.'

‘Very droll, sir, I'm sure.' The sergeant stood up. ‘We'll be on our way.' He smiled tightly. ‘Wouldn't want to keep you because you never know – you might have to go out looking for Noddy or somebody. G'night, sir.'

Rosie got up and followed the officers out.

‘Excuse me?'

‘What is it, miss?'

‘Sowerby Old Hall. Has it got like a gateway in a high hedge so if you were walking you wouldn't see a car coming out till it was practically on top of you?'

‘It might have. Why? Been there, have you?'

‘N-no. We might have passed it last night though, me and Mum.'

‘Very likely, if you were on the Sowerby road. See anything suspicious, did you? Loiterers, parked motor?'

‘No. We were looking for …'

‘I know. Peter Rabbit. Listen. If you do see or hear anything, you'll be sure and let us know, won't you?'

‘'Course I will. G'night.'

‘OK if I go out after tea, Mum?'

Mummy Bear was mashing potatoes while her husband set the table. She nodded. ‘I suppose so, sweetheart, but it's not a very nice evening. Something important to do, have you?'

‘I think so, yes. I'll try not to be late.'

By six o'clock it was windy as well as wet. She didn't fancy the climb to Inchlake Ring so she used the fairy ring on the school field, packing her clothes in a plastic carrier bag which she hid in the long grass, weighted down with a stone. It would be dark soon, and it was unlikely that anyone would visit the field tonight.

The wind drove a cold drizzle that plastered her hair to her scalp and made her shiver as she hurried towards the Kippax home. This was why she'd decided not to involve the others – they'd have been half-frozen and ready to give up before the job was done.

The place was in darkness. No car stood on
the drive. When the security floodlight snapped on in response to Rosie's movements, the ring of raindrops round the basketball hoop became a circlet of diamonds. The light didn't worry her. In fact it made her task much easier, and if some busybody neighbour wondered what had triggered it and came to take a peek, he'd see nothing.
If old Kippax had a guard dog instead of a floodlight
, she thought,
it would be a different story.

She circled the house, triggering another light round the back. There was a garden shed with a window in the side. She wiped off rainbeads and peered in. The light helped, but the shed held only a clothes-spinner, some tools and a motor mower. No life-size statue of Poseidon.
Who the heck's Poseidon anyway?

She tried to see into the house, but all the curtains were drawn. That left the garage. The double garage.
Plenty of space in there, but no window. Drat!

She was standing, shivering a bit and wondering what to do, when she heard a car approaching. Powerful headlights slashed across the driveway as a
BMW
turned in. Rosie sidestepped as the car came growling up the drive, and seized the opportunity to peer inside
the garage when its doors swung up automatically and the headlights illuminated the interior. She glimpsed a tall, angular object draped in a shroud of shiny black plastic like a giant bin-bag.
That could be a statue
, she told herself.
A life-size statue. It's Daddy Bear's height. A peek under that plastic's what I need. Just a peek.

She wasn't going to get it though. As she stared, the car rolled into the garage and the door began to swing down behind it. If there'd been time to think, she wouldn't have done the crazy thing she now did, but there wasn't. The door was half down when she dashed forward, ducked, scuttled under the descending rim and jumped clear. As the garage door clicked shut, the car doors opened and three people got out. She was trapped with the family Kippax.

‘Are we watching
The Simpsons
, Mum?' Lee hovered by the door which led from the garage to the house as his parents unloaded the car.

‘You can watch in your room. Your dad's got somebody coming in a few minutes.'

‘Who?'

‘Never you mind. Here – take these through.'

Lee took two bulging carriers from his mother. ‘Who's coming? Why can't I see ‘em?'

‘Lee.' Mr Kippax frowned at his son. ‘Don't argue with your mother, OK? Put that stuff in the kitchen and go upstairs.'

‘Yes, Dad.'

Lee went through the door. Rosie, motionless
against a breeze-block wall, watched as Mr and Mrs Kippax picked up their stuff and followed him. Should she go too, or stay here? Would they lock the door and if they did, was there a way she could escape once she'd seen what was under that plastic?

I've
got
to stay, haven't I? Take a peek in the bin-bag
, then
worry about getting out.
Laden with carriers, Mr Kippax followed his wife through the door and pushed it closed with his bottom. Rosie heard a latch click home, and at the same instant the garage was plunged into total darkness.

Drat! Never thought of that. No window. Can't see a hand in front of my face. Don't know where the switches are. Why didn't I bring a
torch,
for Pete's sake? (Because it'd look a bit funny, that's why – a torch floating along the street all by itself.) Still, I should've been prepared in some way.

Gotta
do
something. Can't just stand here freezing. Move.
Where,
though?
She frowned in the blackness, trying to remember the layout of the place. There was a board. Pegboard painted white with tools racked up on it, somewhere to her right. Under the board was a bench with a vice and a power-drill. Shelves below, full of
stuff. A lamp, perhaps. A torch. Matches would do.
Have to search by feel but that's OK – I've probably got all night.

She crabbed right, keeping the breeze-blocks at her back.
Go slow. Don't trip. Don't knock anything over.
When she thought she'd travelled far enough she raised her right arm and felt for the board. It wasn't there.
On a bit, then. Slowly, slowly. Now, try again. Nothing. It's here somewhere though, unless I imagined it. Wish Daddy Bear was here. Shut up. There – I've found it. Smooth and cool, just like me. Now for the bench … there. And underneath, down here somewhere … all sorts of rubbish. Careful then. Lift things one by one, feel ‘em, put them on the floor. That way you won't be looking at the same stuff twice. Looking at! If only.

Time passed. She couldn't identify most of the items her groping hands found, but none of them was a torch or lamp. She'd cleared the top shelf and made a start on the lower one when she heard a click. The lights came on. Mr Kippax, in the doorway, growled an oath as he spotted the stuff on the floor. Rosie shrank away as he strode towards her, murder in his eyes.

Lee laughed out loud and slapped his knees as Bart Simpson pulled down his jeans and mooned the Prime Minister of Australia while a band somewhere struck up
The Star-Spangled Banner. Mega! Way to go, Bart. Best episode ever, this.

‘Lee!'

Oh-oh.
‘Yes, Dad?'

‘I'll give you “yes dad”. Get down here
now.' Oh heck – now what have I done?
‘Coming, Dad.'

‘What you been playing at, eh?'

Lee gaped at the stuff all over the garage floor. ‘Wasn't
me
, Dad. Never left my room.'

‘Don't lie to me, boy.'

‘I'm not. I haven't been in here, Dad. Honest.'