Poppy Pym and the Beastly Blizzard Page 6

  However, the mystery hanging over us was weighing heavily on my mind. The discovery that the toy beetle contained spying equipment seemed like too much of a coincidence when we thought we were being watched. But who would be watching us with those kind of resources? If it was someone trying to hurt me then it would have to be someone very well off, who really didn’t like me. My eyes slid over towards Annabelle again, who was sitting on the floor, unlacing the ribbons on her ballet shoes. She looked the picture of innocence, but of all the people I knew she had the best motive… After all she did seem to hate my guts, and she was always going on about how much money she had. But would she really try and hurt me? It seemed unlikely. I made my way over to her and sat down on the ground beside her, beginning to carefully untie the bits of loo roll still dangling from my arms.

  “What do you want?” she muttered without even looking up.

  “I just … er … wanted to say I liked your dancing,” I floundered. After all, what was I supposed to say? Oh, hi, Annabelle, I was just wondering if you were spying on me with a robot beetle and did you, perhaps, try to have me run over by a van? Maybe not. Annabelle lifted her face now, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “What are you up to?” she asked. “Why are you being nice to me?”

  “It must be the festive spirit,” I said brightly. “Speaking of Christmas, are you getting any nice presents this year?”

  A look flickered across Annabelle’s face so fast it was like one of Marvin’s sleight of hand tricks. It looked almost like … sadness. Seconds later I knew I must have imagined it, as Annabelle’s scornful voice filled the air.

  “Well, obviously I’m getting loads of presents this year,” she said. “My parents just love to spoil me. They say I’m a princess and that I can have whatever I want.”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “That’s nice,” I said carefully. “So any toys that you’re after? Anything remote-controlled?”

  Annabelle snorted – a most un-princessy sound – and treated me to another look of disdain. “I don’t play with toys any more, Poppy. Unlike some, I’m very mature for my age.”

  I tried again. “I don’t mean to bug you,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows. “Perhaps you want a CAMERA. You can’t BEETLE a good picture.”

  “Did you just say beetle?” Annabelle frowned.

  “I don’t think so,” I said airily. “Why? Have you got beetles on the brain?”

  Annabelle just looked at me blankly for a long moment. “I’ve had enough of this,” she said finally, getting to her feet. “Weirdo,” I heard her mutter as she walked away.

  I twirled my imaginary moustache. I thought I was pretty sneaky there, but I hadn’t managed to find out anything conclusive. Annabelle seemed genuinely confused by my questions, but then I suppose she could just be a good actress.

  Ingrid appeared at my elbow. “What were you talking to Annabelle for?” she asked, coming to sit down beside me.

  “I was just trying to find out if Annabelle had a particular interest in beetles,” I said.

  Ingrid’s eyes widened. “You don’t think she’s involved, do you?”

  I shrugged. “Probably not, but she’s pretty much the only enemy I know I have, and she’s always bragging about the pots of money she has.”

  Ingrid paused for a moment, thinking this over, and then she shook her head. “Annabelle might be a bully,” she said, “but I can’t imagine her trying to actually hurt you.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” I admitted. “And after all, for all we know the beetle-bot could have been looking out for us. Doesn’t seem like Annabelle would go out of her way to take care of us either.”

  “No.” Ingrid shook her head. “Anyway,” she said, her voice brightening, “we don’t even know if the van was meant to hit you; it could still have just been an accident. Our investigations have been inconclusive.”

  Kip appeared then, back in his elf-free school uniform, just as the bell rang.

  “Finally, it’s dinner time!” he exclaimed. “These rehearsals really build up an appetite.”

  “Don’t think you need rehearsals for that,” Ingrid said as we walked through the entrance hall.

  And that’s when things went very, very wrong.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Kip and Ingrid were walking slightly ahead of me when, without any warning, all the lights went out.

  “What—” I heard Kip’s voice flutter out into the unexpected darkness.

  An ominous creaking sounded above me and suddenly something slammed into my side, pushing me skittering across the floor. A whooshing sound filled the air, followed by an absolutely enormous, ringing crash. Then the shouting started.

  “Poppy!” I heard Ingrid yell through the hubbub.

  “I’m here!” I called, sitting up and gingerly rubbing my elbows. I had certainly hit the floor with a mighty thump, and by the sounds of it something else had as well. Now that my head had stopped spinning, my eyes had a chance to adjust to the darkness and I saw the outline of a hulking object just to the side of me. Reaching out I touched it with my hands and felt the cool smoothness of iron. A rushing sound seemed to fill my ears as I realized what it was – the huge, wrought iron chandelier that hung from the high ceiling. And it had crashed to the ground, right where I had been standing.

  Just then the lights came on and I sat, blinking at the brightness, as footsteps thundered down the stairs. I found myself looking up into the faces of our headmistress, Miss Baxter, and the beetle-browed maths teacher, Dr MacDougal.

  “In the wars again, Poppy?” Miss Baxter asked, holding out her hand to me, but the lightness in her voice didn’t match the frown in her eyes. She flashed me a smile as she helped me to my feet, and I was struck again by how different she was to the sort of head teacher I’d imagined before I came to Saint Smithen’s. Instead of a stern, miserable creature, Miss Baxter is funny and friendly. She has a round, open face covered in a smattering of freckles and long dark hair that she scrunches up in a bun with at least one pen sticking out of it at all times. She always seems a bit messy and disorganized, but she keeps Saint Smithen’s running beautifully, and she always has a mint humbug to hand when you really need one. I think she’s pretty great.

  Dr MacDougal was being her usual unruffled self, barking instructions at the other students who were all standing around with their mouths hanging open in surprise. Miraculously, it looked as though no one had been hurt.

  Kip and Ingrid came rushing towards me, their faces pale and pinched.

  “Are you OK?” Kip asked breathlessly, as Ingrid flung her arms around me.

  “I’m fine,” I squeaked through Ingrid’s tight embrace.

  “We thought you’d been splattered!” Kip exclaimed. “You were standing right there!” He pointed to where the chandelier lay on the ground.

  Miss Baxter flinched a little. “Goodness…” she murmured under her breath, and her arm came around my shoulder and gave me a little squeeze. “What a terrible accident,” she said, addressing the rest of the students who were now crowding around. “It’s a good job all of you are safe and sound.”

  “Why did the all the lights go off?” someone asked from the back of the crowd.

  “I’m not sure,” Miss Baxter frowned, “but I think one of the fuses must have been tripped.” Her gaze rested once more on the heavy iron object in front of us. “I can’t understand it. How did this happen?” She was quiet for a moment, and then she seemed to catch herself, and turned her smiling face on the crowd. “Well, I think that’s quite enough excitement for one evening!” she said brightly. “Let’s get you lot into the dining hall for some dinner. I hear Mrs Barnfield has made her famous toad-in-the-hole.”

  A murmur of appreciation ran around the room and the crowd dissolved very quickly. Kip looked like he was being tortured as he hovered by my side. If I hadn’t known it already, this was proof that Kip really was a true friend. Toad-in-the-hole was one of his favourite things, and he usually had the
days that Mrs Barnfield served it marked on his calendar.

  “Now, Poppy, are you sure you’re all right?” Miss Baxter turned back to me.

  “Yes,” I said quickly. “I’m absolutely fine.” Now that the shock was wearing off I could feel my brain waking up. I was replaying the moment the lights went out in my mind and I was certain that someone had pushed me out of the way of the falling chandelier. Someone had saved my life. But who?

  Miss Baxter, meanwhile, was giving me an eagle-eyed stare and then she nodded briskly. “OK, if you’re sure, then you can go as well.”

  “Thanks, miss,” I said and I grabbed Kip and Ingrid by the arms, hustling them towards the dining hall.

  I could feel them both crackling with anticipation as they walked beside me. “Someone pushed me out of the way,” I said in a low voice.

  “What?” Ingrid exclaimed, and Kip came to an abrupt stop.

  “Keep moving,” I whispered, “and look casual – we don’t know who’s watching.”

  Kip and Ingrid both plastered enormous grins over their faces. Kip also seemed to be doing some sort of funny, bouncy walk.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed. “I said look casual, not deranged!”

  “I think I’ve forgotten how to walk,” Kip whispered desperately, his eyes wild. “I’ve over-thought it now. Nothing feels normal.” He continued his bouncing, rolling walk until we got to a table and he collapsed into a chair, a look of relief smeared across his face.

  Ingrid and I both sat down as well. “So someone really pushed you out of the way?” Ingrid asked quietly.

  I nodded. “I would have been in real trouble if they hadn’t.”

  Kip’s eyes were wide. “So who was it?” he asked.

  “I have no idea,” I admitted, rubbing my arm a little sheepishly. “There were so many people around and it was so unexpected. And with the lights going off, my mind was all muddled.”

  “Well, whoever it was didn’t stick around to get the credit,” Ingrid pointed out.

  “Just like whoever saved Riley from the van,” Kip said, slowly. “Do you think it was the same person?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I just know that if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be here!” The world seemed to wobble around me again then, and Ingrid placed one of her cool hands over mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “And the chandelier…” Kip piped up now, with the words we were all thinking. “Was it just an accident or…”

  “Did someone do it on purpose?” I whispered, and I could hear the tremble in my own voice. Was someone really trying to hurt me? A feeling settled in my stomach like a heavy, frozen watermelon. This just wouldn’t do. I had a very firm word with myself. I had been in dangerous situations before when caught up in a particularly testing mystery, but I had never hidden from a challenge. I straightened my spine, and raised my chin. “If someone really is after me,” I said more firmly now, “then they’re in for a real shock. Because I have you guys, and we’ve faced tough criminals before!” Ingrid and Kip both nodded. “We’ve beaten the odds and we’ve solved mysteries all by ourselves,” I cried, like a coach, revving her team up for the big match.

  It seemed to be working as Kip and Ingrid grew taller right before my eyes. “Whoever is doing this … they messed with the wrong kids!” I finished, bashing my fist on to the table in front of me. It was time to get serious. Whoever this villain was, as I looked at the fire blazing in Kip and Ingrid’s eyes, I knew that we were going to eat them for breakfast.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Unfortunately, my fiery speech was all well and good, but the reality of this mystery was that we were getting absolutely nowhere. The days passed and all of our attempts to find out what had happened to the chandelier were thwarted. Everyone seemed happy to accept that it was an unfortunate accident, and no one had seen anything out of the ordinary.

  “Don’t people think it’s at least a little bit suspicious that the lights went off right before that thing fell?” I fumed over breakfast one morning, shovelling cornflakes into my mouth.

  “Apparently it was the chandelier that blew the fuse box.” Ingrid shrugged. “It makes sense that the lights would go out if the wires were being ripped from the ceiling before it fell.”

  I huffed and muttered darkly into my glass of orange juice.

  “I guess it could have just been an accident,” Kip said, and then held his hands out in front of him when I spun angrily in his direction. “I mean, it might have been a coincidence that you were standing there,” he finished weakly.

  “There are no coincidences in mystery solving!” I exclaimed. “That’s one of the very first rules!”

  “I’m just saying…” Kip persisted. “Maybe people think it was an accident because it was.”

  “There’s still the mystery of who pushed Poppy out of the way,” Ingrid pointed out.

  “YES!” I exclaimed. “Thank you, Ing! That’s exactly right.”

  “Well, I’d be a lot happier investigating the mystery of who saved you from being squished, than the mystery of who tried to squish you.” Kip’s words came from around the sides of the bacon sandwich that he was shoving into his face.

  I had to admit, however grudgingly, that Kip had a point there. I supposed our investigation needed to focus on the one thing I was sure of – that someone had been on hand to rescue me … but who? I stared moodily into my bowl, toying with the spoon in my hand. It was frustrating to have so many questions and absolutely no answers.

  “Oh no,” I heard Kip groan under his breath, and I looked up to see Mei standing in front of us, a tray in her hands.

  “Hi, Mei!” I said with a broad grin, enjoying Kip’s discomfort. (Well, that would teach him to be so sensible and annoyingly right about things.) “Won’t you join us?” I said with an elaborate wave to the empty seat next to Kip. He shot me a furious glare which I pretended not to notice.

  Mei smiled and slipped into the seat. Kip suddenly became very fascinated by the bit of table that was straight in front of him.

  We’d seen quite a bit of Mei over the last few weeks, and I actually liked her a lot (even if she did have strange taste in boys). But her effect on Kip hadn’t diminished at all – he still became a red-faced, bumbling ninny every time she was around.

  “I heard about the accident, Poppy,” Mei said, and I tried not to wince at the word “accident”. “Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “It sounds like you were very lucky,” Mei said, looking at me over the top of her drink.

  “Weren’t you there?” Kip suddenly blurted out.

  Mei looked surprised, possibly because that was about the longest sentence Kip had managed to put together in front of her. “No, I wasn’t,” she said, turning slightly towards him. “I was in my room. It sounds scary though.”

  “Oh, I thought I saw you,” Kip said, and then his face turned beetroot red. “Not that I was looking for you, or anything. I mean, you could have been there or not been there for all I know. I don’t even notice these things. I mean who’s who or where’s where…” He trailed off, his voice little more than a croak as we three girls stared at him in silence.

  “I have to go,” he announced suddenly, scraping back his chair and legging it out of the dining hall. I noticed that he still had his wits about him enough to grab an extra sandwich on the way out, so I wasn’t too worried.

  “I hope it wasn’t something I said.” Mei’s voice was wistful as she stared after Kip.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Ingrid put in. “He’s in a bit of a funny mood this morning. I think it’s the pressure of rehearsals.”

  “Oh, of course,” Mei smiled. “It’s almost time for the big festive performance. How are the rehearsals going?”

  “It’s a bit of a circus,” I said. “And I should know!” I looked at my watch. “And speaking of the circus, I’d better go and give them a ring before classes start. Make sure you check out the show on Friday, M
ei,” I called over my shoulder as I hustled off towards the library. “You wouldn’t want to miss seeing Kip in his tights.”

  The reason for this particular phone call was an important one … it was to finalize our Christmas holiday plans. It wasn’t just Ingrid and Kip who were going to Burnshire Hall with us; Ingrid’s parents and Miss Susan and Mr Grant were all coming too. (Mr Grant is another teacher at Saint Smithen’s and he’s pretty much the coolest. He’s a real-life explorer and botanist and Miss Susan calls him her “friend”, but she always blushes really red when she says it so I think that’s grown-up code for boyfriend. Plus, when we were on our school trip in the summer, we saw Mr Grant kiss Miss Susan right on the lips. True, it was just after she’d been kidnapped, but still, you didn’t need to be a top detective to realize there was serious romance in the air.)

  I needed to talk to my family to make sure they were still coming to the school to pick us up as planned on Friday. I also wanted to check that all of the important supplies were in place. It was crucial to have an accurate idea of the mince pie quota, and I knew that these kind of details would be high on Kip’s list of priorities.

  **Beginning of transcript**

  Fanella: HELLO? Leaky Sue’s place. There are ghosts here. Is very spooky.

  Me: Hello, Fanella, it’s me!

  Fanella: Tomato! I am so glad you call. Let me tell you about what moonhead Marvin do now…

  Marvin: (in the background) Stop telling tales, Fanella, you know it was a perfectly innocent mistake.

  Fanella: Innocent? Bah! You can not fool me. I know you were seeking revengeance after I accidentally let poor little Otis fall to sleep in your bed.

  Marvin: Well, how would you like it if you got into bed and then a SNAKE wriggled up your pyjama leg?

  Fanella: BA HA HA! Is hilarious! You were so funny jumping about and screaming like little baby.

  Marvin: (hotly) Well you won’t be laughing when you’ve looked in the mirror.