Poppy Pym and the Beastly Blizzard Page 3

  “What accident?” Ingrid asked.

  “There was a runaway van,” I said, waving my hand as though it hadn’t been a big deal. “It was going to crash into the library but I managed to jump in and stop it. It would have hit Riley though, if someone hadn’t saved him.”

  “Who was it?” Ingrid’s mouth was hanging slightly open.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “It happened so fast. Whoever it was just … vanished.”

  “And do you think that’s the person who put the note under the door?” Ingrid asked.

  I shrugged. “It could have been,” I said finally. “I wish there was some way to know for sure.”

  “You definitely didn’t see who it was?” Ingrid looked hopeful. “Nothing about them at all? If it was a man or a woman or how tall they were, or…”

  “Nothing,” I said heavily. “They were just a blur. It was all happening too fast.” We fell silent, and I simmered with annoyance that an eagle-eyed detective like myself had missed out on an opportunity to provide essential witness testimony.

  “So, what do we do now?” Ingrid asked after a moment.

  “I don’t know.” I heard my voice shake with frustration. “Unless a real emergency comes along. There’s no point phoning the number, because we obviously won’t see whoever is behind it unless they want us to, not if they’ve managed to check up on us once while remaining hidden.”

  “And they might get cross if we ignore their instructions again,” Ingrid agreed. “We don’t want to scare them off for good.”

  “If only there was something more!” I exclaimed, shaking the envelope again to check that no other mysterious clue was about to fall out.

  “We’ll find another way to solve this,” Ingrid said, squeezing my arm, and her voice sounded so certain. “We’ll work out who’s behind it all. We’ll find out what they know about your mum.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, injecting my voice with some of her certainty. “We’ve solved tougher mysteries than this.” I wasn’t certain that was true, but it felt like the right thing to say. I also liked the way Ingrid kept saying “we”. I felt so much better knowing that she and Kip were by my side. Together I felt like we could tackle anything – after all, we’d brought more than one rascally criminal to justice. The thought buoyed me up like a pair of imaginary armbands, helping me to swim through the sea of doubt.

  Ingrid interrupted my thoughts with a frown. “You don’t think Miss Susan knows anything more about it, do you? Maybe we should show her the clues? She’s seen the other ones, after all. You showed them to her when we were at Crumley Castle.”

  “I’m not sure,” I said hesitantly. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I didn’t really want to share this new information. “I did show her but we never told her about dialling the phone number or anything. She says she’s told me everything she knows, but she is very good at keeping secrets. Maybe there is something she isn’t sharing.” I paused here, thinking about how much I still had to learn about my new aunt. “Either way, I still don’t think we should show her these clues,” I said finally. “It all seems pretty top secret, and exactly like the sort of stuff the grown-ups would try and take over. Whatever is going on here, we have to figure it out ourselves.”

  Ingrid nodded.

  “I can try and do some more digging with Miss Susan,” I continued, “see if she does know more than she’s letting on. And in the meantime, we’ll just have to be on high alert. We don’t know who’s behind the notes but they seem to know who we are and where we are. It could be anyone, they might even be watching us right now!” We both jumped a little at this, casting our eyes about in case someone was about to spring out from behind the curtains.

  Nothing happened.

  Both of us let out the breaths we had been holding in and gave way to nervous giggles.

  I looked over at Ingrid whose glasses were practically steaming up because she was thinking so hard and I felt a big fat wave of affection crash over me.

  “Oh, I am glad to see you, Ing,” I said then, because in all the excitement we hadn’t even really properly said hello … aside from the awkward handshake, of course, but the less said about that the better.

  “It is good to be back,” Ingrid agreed. “Especially after weeks with my parents moving from stamp fair to stamp fair, talking about stamps, hearing about stamps, singing songs about stamps, reciting the Stamp Collectors’ code and swearing oaths of loyalty to secret stamp-collecting societies… I even started having a recurring dream that a big, killer stamp was chasing me around.” She shuddered. Ingrid’s parents are both philatelists, which – in case you hadn’t already guessed – means that they collect stamps. They’re really into it, but sadly for them Ingrid definitely does not share their passion. “They were showing off their beloved Penny Black, of course,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I know they love that old stamp more than they love me.”

  “Don’t say that!” I cried, seeing the hurt in her face that she was trying to hide.

  “Oh! I almost forgot,” Ingrid exclaimed lightly, changing the subject. “I have something else for you.” My heart thumped expectantly for a moment, thinking that she was about to provide another clue about my secret history, but instead she picked up a parcel from her dressing table.

  “What is it?” I asked, but I was already tearing eagerly at the paper, so Ingrid didn’t exactly have a chance to answer.

  What I unwrapped, after clawing at the paper like a possessed tiger with a particular hatred of wrapping paper, was a picture frame made of seashells, and inside the frame was a photograph that made me beam like a million-watt light bulb. It was taken at the beginning of the summer when Kip and Ingrid had come to visit, and it showed all of us in front of the big top tent. My whole circus family – Luigi, Buttercup, Doris, Fanella, Tina and Tawna … everyone – together with my best friends and my new family. Kip was standing on his tiptoes next to Boris the mighty tall strongman, and Luigi the lion tamer was watching lovingly as Buttercup the lion chewed on a very nice high-heeled shoe. Fanella was standing next to them with her hands on her hips, her mouth was open as if she was about to start shouting about how much she loved her shoes, and how lions are terrible but not as terrible as silly men who let lions do whatever they want. Doris, the tightrope walker and magician’s assistant, was explaining the maths behind some difficult magic trick to Ingrid and Miss Susan on a whiteboard while Marvin the Magnificent, magician extraordinaire, watched on admiringly. Tina was standing on one leg on top of Tawna’s shoulders (Tawna, it should be mentioned, was standing on one leg too), showing off the pair’s acrobatic skills, Sharp-Eye Sheila was brandishing her knife, preparing to throw it at a red-and-white stripy target and Chuckles and Bobo the clowns were juggling a variety of things including a pineapple and several teapots. And in the middle of it all Pym and I stood with our arms around each other, big shining grins on both our faces. I felt my shoulders relax as I looked at the picture. Here were my family in all their funny, eccentric brilliance. It reminded me that in a way, it didn’t matter who had left this mysterious note for me. Whatever happened, I would always have them.

  Very carefully, I propped the photo up on my bedside table. “I love it,” I said, a warm snuggly glow settling like an electric blanket around my heart.

  “So shall we unpack?” Ingrid asked. “Or shall we go and find Kip?”

  “I think we should go and fill Kip in on the latest developments,” I replied, wiggling my eyebrows meaningfully. “We need a plan. It’s about time we solved this mystery once and for all.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  We found Kip in the dining hall. To be honest, it wasn’t much of a mystery, trying to track him down. The hall was pretty quiet, as most of the students seemed to be settling into their rooms, but there were still a few people milling about, sipping coffee and eating fat slices of lemon drizzle cake. Kip was sitting at one of the long tables with three empty plates in front of him and a guilty look on his face.

 
; “Oh, hi, guys!” he exclaimed brightly, jumping to his feet.

  My eyes lingered on the empty plates and Kip’s face flushed slightly.

  “OK,” he said quickly, “I know what you’re thinking, but I really tried to save you both a piece of cake. I mean, you know how it is when you’re distracted. One second there are three pieces of cakes and the next you look down and…” He gestured feebly to the plates and then ruefully patted his stomach.

  “Never mind,” I said, slipping into a seat across the table.

  Ingrid peered short-sightedly towards the table laid with cake and coffee. “It looks like there’s still some left; I’ll go get us a couple of slices.” She turned and walked away.

  “And maybe one for me…” Kip called after her, his eyes suddenly bright. “Just a sliver, don’t want to be greedy.” He frowned. “Then again, Ing… NOT TOO SMALL,” he yelled after her, and I could see Ingrid shaking her head in despair.

  “So, what’s up?” Kip asked, and I leaned in to tell him, in a low voice.

  By the time Ingrid arrived, precariously balancing three plates of cake (huge slices, I could see Kip note with approval), I had pretty much filled him in.

  “So someone could be watching us … right now?” Kip hissed through clenched teeth, like a bad ventriloquist. His gaze swung from side to side and his eyes narrowed as he took in the new faces around the room.

  “We don’t know,” I said. “There’s a lot of stuff we don’t know. But I think there’s an obvious place to start looking for answers…” I trailed off.

  Ingrid was murmuring in agreement but Kip looked puzzled.

  “Is it right here in the dining room, next to the cake table?” he asked hopefully through a mouthful of crumbs. My eyes widened as I realized his fourth piece of cake had been well and truly hoovered up. I looked more closely at his face… How did he do that? Was it possible that he could unhinge his jaw like a snake?

  “Poppy means we should ask Miss Susan about who else could have written the notes, apart from Poppy’s mum. Miss Susan has invited us all to tea,” Ingrid piped up, interrupting my ponderings.

  “Excellent, excellent.” Kip nodded, clearly approving the plan. There was a short pause. “Do you think she’ll have biscuits?”

  A few hours later we were making our way towards the planned interrogation. Miss Susan’s room was located down one of the twisting corridors in the girls’ dorm and, when she opened the door to greet us, it was, as usual, neat as a pin. There wasn’t a huge amount to see, just some simple furniture and a book case stuffed with Dougie Valentine novels. (My aunt and I have more in common than you might expect!)

  “Hello, children,” she greeted us.

  “Hello, miss,” Kip boomed, bustling into the room without any ceremony. “I hope you’ve got something to eat in here; I’ve barely had a bite of anything today.”

  Ingrid and I exchanged an incredulous look.

  “Haven’t you just had dinner?” Miss Susan asked.

  “Sandwiches!” Kip blazed. “They gave us SANDWICHES for dinner. That’s hardly a meal, is it?”

  “Um…” Miss Susan began, but Kip was on a roll now.

  “It’s almost as bad as BRUNCH,” his voice was indignant. “What’s the point of that? Just call it breakfast, and then you can have lunch as well. It’s just trying to cheat people out of a meal, that’s what it is. What a scam.” He began muttering darkly and it was clear he’d been burned by this in the past.

  While this important exchange was taking place I was running my eyes around the room, desperately searching for any kind of clue. I don’t really know what I was hoping to find; after all, I had been here many times before, but something told me that my aunt knew more about my arrival at the circus than she was letting on. We settled down around a small table and Miss Susan poured steaming tea into pretty china cups and offered up a plate of biscuits while we made small talk. Perhaps the direct approach was going to be best, I decided.

  “I wanted to ask you something… About my mother,” I began abruptly.

  “Oh,” Miss Susan said faintly, her eyes drifting towards Kip and Ingrid.

  “It’s OK,” I said quickly, nodding at my pals. “There’s nothing you can’t say in front of them. I’d only tell them afterwards anyway.”

  A smile tugged at Miss Susan’s mouth. “I suppose that’s true,” she said. “It’s nice that you have such good friends to rely on.”

  “Yes,” I agreed firmly. Ingrid smiled, but Kip’s head swivelled as he watched our conversation move back and forth like a tennis match.

  “The thing I wanted to know was… Was she the one who left me at the circus?” I asked.

  Miss Susan frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked. I searched her face but only saw confusion there.

  “I mean, did she give me to anyone else?” I asked carefully. “Could someone else have left me at the circus?”

  My aunt shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Poppy,” she said helplessly. “I have no idea. Evangeline and I weren’t speaking at the time – which is something I’ll never forgive myself for.” She swallowed then, her eyes filling with tears. “I wish she had been able to come to me,” she finished quietly.

  I reached over and squeezed her hand. Miss Susan shook her head, as though to shake out all the sad thoughts, and gave a funny little laugh. “Anyway,” she said, sniffling, “I don’t know if your mother was the person who actually brought you to the circus, though of course, she did write the note.”

  I froze. “The note?” I squeaked, the air feeling squeezed out of me again.

  “The note pinned to your blanket, and those other things that were left with you.” Miss Susan nodded. “They were all in her handwriting.”

  “But they can’t have been,” I blurted out.

  Miss Susan looked confused by my outburst. Kip and Ingrid sat completely frozen (or, at least, Ingrid sat completely frozen – Kip was mostly frozen, apart from his arm which was verrrrry slowly lifting a biscuit up to his face).

  “I mean,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I thought maybe someone else had written those notes.”

  “Someone else?” Miss Susan’s forehead scrunched up. “Why would you think that? The note was signed by E… E for Evangeline.”

  “I don’t know,” I cast about wildly, “I just thought maybe there was someone else involved. Maybe they signed the letter from E for my mum, or … or maybe their name began with an E.”

  “ERIC.” Kip burst out. His voice was too loud, and made the rest of us jump. “Sorry,” he said at a more normal volume. “Eric is another name that begins with E.”

  “That’s right,” I nodded eagerly. “Or Elizabeth or Edgar or … Ermintrude.”

  “Ermintrude!” Kip snorted.

  I glared at him. “Yes,” I said and my voice was as cold and pointy as an icicle. “Ermintrude.”

  “OK, I get the point,” Miss Susan said, “lots of names begin with E, including mine. Let’s not go through the whole list, shall we?”

  “Right,” I agreed. “We don’t need to go through all the possibilities … but you have to admit there are LOADS.”

  “But where has this come from, Poppy?” Miss Susan was obviously perplexed. “Why would you think someone else wrote the note? For starters, I’m almost certain it was in Evangeline’s handwriting, and for another thing the note said ‘this is my baby’.”

  I had to admit this was pretty damning evidence, but what about the new note in the same handwriting? There was no way it could have been written by my mother. A silence fell over the room as I debated with myself whether to reveal all to Miss Susan or not. It felt strange not to tell her. I mean, we were supposed to be family after all, and family don’t keep secrets from each other … do they? In the end I didn’t have time to make up my mind because I was interrupted by Ingrid changing the subject. She and Miss Susan began discussing some kind of chemistry experiment with great enthusiasm. It was probably for the best, I thought, chewing my lip; I reall
y didn’t know what was the right thing to do.

  Eventually the subject of the near-miss accident with the van came up. My aunt was clearly still upset about it and her mouth went all small and pinched, as if she’d been sucking on a lemon slice.

  “I rrrrreally don’t know what you were thinking,” she said impatiently.

  “If it hadn’t been for Poppy’s quick thinking then there could have been a terrible accident,” Kip said, earning a stern glare from Miss Susan. He swallowed nervously.

  “Well, I think that man with his delivery van should be held accountable,” Miss Susan huffed. “I must trrrrrry and track down that laundry company and give them a piece of my mind…” She trailed off, an avenging glint in her eye that made her look like the sort of woman you definitely didn’t want to pick a fight with.

  I let the rest of their chatter wash over me and it wasn’t long until we were leaving. Miss Susan gave me a quick hug and Ingrid and I walked Kip down to the front door of the dorm.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Kip piped up, suddenly.

  “That’s always dangerous,” Ingrid teased, but she was cut short by Kip’s serious expression.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Kip wrinkled his brow. “It’s about what you were saying, about having someone watching over you, protecting you … and then, Miss Susan talking about the almost-accident earlier.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Maybe the person who pushed Riley out of the way of the van is the same person watching me.”

  “But that’s just it,” Kip spoke hesitantly. “It’s the thing with the van that’s been bothering me.”

  “What do you mean?” Ingrid asked.

  “Well, don’t you think it was strange?” Kip said. “I mean that delivery driver said he thought the brakes were working just fine before and then suddenly, it’s hurtling right towards us. Right where we were standing.”

  “What are you trying to say?” I felt a shiver of fear ripple through me.