Burning Secrets (7 page)

Chapter 11

L
OUIE WAS STILL
up when he let himself in. She had been experimenting: her hair, and in addition her ears, forehead, neck and much of her T-shirt were now an uncompromising shade of red.

“You've been ages,” she said, curiously.

“We walked miles. It was good, but I'm freezing.” He had no trouble keeping his word to Helen. Keeping secrets was something that came naturally to him.

“I thought I'd dye my hair,” said Louie, pointing at her head as if he might not have noticed. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it's great – if you want to look like Ronald McDonald,” said Daniel.

When he awoke it was mid-afternoon and the house was quiet. He found Louie in the sitting room applying a set of extra-long false nails over her bitten ones. She waggled a set of talons at him. “What do you think?”

“Horrible,” he said. It wasn't so much the look of them, but their habit of dropping off. They would turn up in the bottom of the bath or stuck to Chet's fur like giant ticks. Either she was doing something wrong or she needed stronger glue. In daylight her hair looked even more alarming, but he didn't risk any more McHair jokes: Louie was quite capable of shaving the whole lot off.

Outside in the garden Mum was splitting logs for the stove, her teeth clenched each time she brought down the axe. Daniel went out and took the axe off her. It was such a simple, brilliant tool – unimproved over thousands of years. The logs fell open like books at its touch. Soon he had amassed a pyramid of neatly split wood; the sight of it reminded him of the bonfire in the Centennial Gardens.

“I'm going to the fireworks at Port Julian tonight,” he said. “Can I have some money?”

“Might be some in my purse,” his mum said, vaguely. “Is Louie going with you?”

“Don't think so,” said Daniel. It was just the sort of thing she'd hate – crowds, strangers, fire – and he didn't really want her hanging around.

“What were you saying about me?” Louie demanded, appearing at the back door.

“Daniel says you're not going to the fireworks tonight,” Mum replied, ignoring Daniel's agonised signals.

“Yes I am,” said Louie indignantly. She turned on Daniel. “I was invited too.”

“I just thought it wasn't your sort of thing,” he said.

“Well, being stuck at home bored out of my head isn't exactly my sort of thing either,” Louie retorted, planting her hands on her hips. She turned to her mum. “If he's going, I'm going.”

“Fine!” said Daniel, bringing the axe down so that the blade sank into the chopping block with a thud.

 * 

The centre of Port Julian had been closed to traffic for the evening, and the approach roads blocked off with bollards, so Daniel and Louie's mum had to drop them on the edge of the town. She scrabbled in the dashboard compartments for loose change, handing over a fistful of coins with instructions to get something to eat, before driving off.

Even though they were early, there were already crowds of people milling about. Pinpoints of torchlight glimmered in the dusk like fireflies and there was a distant sound of piped music. Daniel and Louie followed the general drift towards the Centennial Gardens, where fireworks were due to take place, followed by the lighting of the bonfire. To Daniel's dismay Louie had decided to cover up her hair with a hat that he'd bought her as a joke present from Camden Market years ago – a fleshcoloured beanie with a Mohican of woolly tufts across the crown. It had looked witty and ironic in London, but here it looked just plain weird.

In the main square there were stalls and mini fairground rides for children: tiny revolving teacups, a carousel of infant-sized ponies impaled on colourful poles and the tamest set of flying chairs Daniel had ever seen.

A long queue had formed beside a giant hog roast which was sizzling on a spit, filling the air with the smoky smell of scorched meat. A man in a greasy apron was handing out chunks of blistered pork crackling to the people waiting.

Louie was appalled. “Oh my God. You can totally tell that it's a dead pig,” she said, pretending to gag. There
was
something slightly tragic about its skewered body and skinny ankles stretched out in the flames, but Daniel joined the queue anyway.

The piped music had given way to a live band on a podium decorated with balloons and bunting. Two elderly violinists and a keyboard player in Stetsons and spangly cowboy gear were playing bluegrass music at furious speed. Louie grimaced. “Why are they in fancy dress?” she sniggered.

Daniel bought a soft floury roll filled with sliced pork and hot apple sauce, and ate it as they walked along. There didn't seem to be a vegetarian equivalent of hog roast, but Louie found a stall selling chestnuts and bought a large bagful, which also served her as a hand-warmer.

Daniel kept glancing at his watch. He wanted to be near the war memorial at seven for Ramsay. Not right next to it as though he was waiting for her or anything, but just keeping it in view. He was half hoping that if he kept his eyes open he might catch sight of Helen Swift. The claim that everybody on Wragge turned up to this event didn't seem to be too much of an exaggeration. It was going to be difficult to move anywhere freely, as more and more people made their way into the Centennial Gardens ready for the fireworks to start.

Suddenly the public address system crackled into life and a woman's voice blasted into the night, welcoming everyone to the 4th of October Celebrations. Looking back towards the podium, Daniel recognised Mrs Ivory talking into a microphone, while officials fiddled with the sound system to adjust the volume.

“I'm very pleased to be opening this event celebrating the life of our founding father Julian Joff Stape, who three hundred years ago established a small community on this wonderful island that we call home.” Some applause and patriotic whooping followed this remark. Mrs Ivory allowed it to die away before carrying on. “You know, we are very fortunate here, very fortunate indeed. There may not be many of us, but we have a strong sense of community. We are all neighbours; our elderly people are respected; our young people are happy and safe; we appreciate our environment and look after it; we all have a job to do and a part to play. We have a lifestyle that is the envy of the outside world.” There was more whooping and whistling.

Is that really true?
Daniel wondered.
Does the outside world care or know anything about Wragge?
Until he came here he had never even heard of the place.

He tuned back in to hear Mrs Ivory say, “What we have is very special. But you know, wherever something exists that is good and precious and special, there are outside forces bent on destroying it.” The crowd quietened. “I am telling you that there are those who would like to ruin what we have here. They are jealous of our success and they want us to fail. But we must be vigilant, and together we can resist these outside forces – for the sake of our young people, and Julian Joff Stape, whose life we celebrate tonight with this terrific display of light and noise! Enjoy the fireworks!”

This speech was greeted with a storm of applause, and then the first rocket tore into the sky and peeled open with a fizz and a crackle, leaving a shower of glitter trails against the blackness. “Ooh,” sighed the spectators in unison, as each firework went up, and then, “Ah!” as it disintegrated.

“What was that all about?” Daniel asked Louie. “What did she mean?”

“I dunno, I wasn't listening,” said Louie. She was concentrating on trying to get the peel off a chestnut without losing a fingernail.

It was the expression ‘outside forces' that made Daniel uneasy. Weren't they always being reminded that they were outsiders? But they were no threat to anyone on Wragge, or anywhere else. He couldn't imagine anyone less likely than his family to interfere in other people's business. Keeping themselves to themselves was practically a religion. Perhaps Mrs Ivory envisaged some form of invasion by a foreign power.
Ridiculous.
Then a sudden memory of Helen Swift's anxious, stricken face rose up before him. Maybe she too had some inkling of a threat to the community? Impatiently, Daniel scanned the spectators, trying to pick her out, but it was too dark and most people had their faces turned upwards to watch the fireworks.

There was a dazzling flash as half a kilo of magnesium exploded above their heads and for a moment the Centennial Gardens were lit up. Daniel found himself staring straight at Ramsay, only a few metres away, positioned at a strategic distance from the war memorial. Even in a woolly hat with ear-flaps she managed to look pretty. She was peering impatiently into the crowd just as he had done. He felt his heart give a sudden kick of excitement as he realised that she was just as eager to find him as he'd been to find her.

Chapter 12

“H
E
'
S NOT GOING
to turn up,” said Fay. “I knew he wouldn't.”

“He might just be late,” said Ramsay, who refused to be pessimistic so early in the evening. “It wasn't a firm arrangement.” She had made so many preparations for tonight: making sure her favourite jeans and top were clean, even though they could hardly be seen under her coat and boots, and doing her hair up in a new way to survive the ravages of her hat. Remembering that he didn't like or approve of Leaf, she'd left her supply at home and cleaned any traces of green from her teeth before doing her make-up. And, most difficult of all, she had managed to give her mates the slip earlier in the evening, in case they scared him off. She'd read in a magazine that boys were especially put off by giggling. On reading this she had resolved never to giggle again. Although laughing at a boy's jokes was allowed – in fact, recommended.

As seven o'clock approached, she found a suitable spot to stake out the war memorial. Ramsay had hardly been aware of the music or Mrs Ivory's speech and now the deadline had passed, time seemed to speed up. With each minute it seemed less likely that Daniel would show up and Ramsay began to wonder if he'd ever received the flyer she'd posted through the door of The Brow. Perhaps it was mistaken for a piece of junk mail and binned unread or maybe chewed up by the dog. She regretted the attack of shyness that had stopped her ringing the doorbell and making the invitation in person.

Then in the dazzle of a brilliant white firework, Ramsay had the odd prickling sensation of being stared at. She turned and there he was; for a second their eyes locked and then they were plunged into darkness again.
I knew you'd come
, she thought, her doubts forgotten, blown away by the energy that seemed to stream from him.

“Hello,” Ramsay said, as he approached, shouldering his way through the crowd. “You decided to come then.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

“This is my sister, Fay,” said Ramsay. “She's been dying to meet you.”

Daniel introduced Louie, who was hanging back in the shadows. Remembering what he'd told her, Ramsay took pains to be friendly and welcoming, complimenting Louie on her interesting hat and her nails, which were looking a bit sooty after their tussles with the chestnuts. She had told Fay to be especially nice to Louie, but not why. Her sister needed no encouragement. The opportunity to make a New Best Friend before anyone else collared her didn't arise very often and Fay had no intention of wasting it. They stood together watching the fireworks for a while and sharing the last of the chestnuts, then Fay noticed some people in the crowd with glow-sticks. “Oh, I want one of those!” she said. “They always have them here!” She went off to find whoever was selling them, dragging Louie along with her.

“It'd be good if they became mates,” Ramsay observed.

Daniel looked at her in surprise. “You read my mind. I was just thinking the same thing. She seems nice, your sister. Do you get on well?”

“Of course,” Ramsay said. “Why wouldn't we?”

“A lot of sisters are always arguing and winding each other up. I mean, me and Louie get on pretty well most of the time. But when she gets into one of her moods, it really kicks off.”

“I suppose we're just not very moody people,” Ramsay said. She smiled, showing white leafless teeth. “I couldn't sleep last night.” Something had disturbed her and then she had lain awake for hours, anticipating tonight and worrying that he wouldn't turn up.

“Neither could I,” said Daniel. “In fact . . . I was walking past your house at about two in the morning.”

“Really?” said Ramsay in surprise.

“I took Chet out for a walk, and I just kind of kept walking.”

“All the way to Stape? At two o'clock in the morning?” It was about that time that she'd woken up; she wondered if it could have been his presence that was the cause.

Daniel nodded. “I like going out when everyone else is in bed. You feel like you're the only person left alive.”

“You're strange,” said Ramsay, pretending disapproval she didn't really feel. It was his strangeness that was so attractive.

“You said that last time!” Daniel protested.

“We've only met twice and I'm already repeating myself,” Ramsay sighed, shaking her head in dismay.

“Three times,” Daniel corrected her. “We've met three times.” He stopped, as if he had betrayed himself with this remark, but they were distracted from any awkwardness by a huge eruption of noise and colour overhead that signalled the end of the fireworks.

There was a smattering of applause and then the crowd began to disperse in the direction of the giant bonfire which was about to be lit.

A few people nodded at Ramsay as they passed, and one woman, who was being pulled along by a large mongrel, and obviously hadn't looked too closely, said, “Hello Ramsay, hello James,” and was dragged off by the dog before they could correct her.

Daniel gave Ramsay a sidelong look.

“That was my neighbour,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “She is a bit blind.”

“Where is James, anyway?” Daniel asked.

“Oh, I don't know. Somewhere about, I expect,” said Ramsay vaguely. She wasn't sure how to mention that she and James had broken up, without making it screamingly obvious that she wanted Daniel to know she was Very Much Available. “I haven't seen him much lately,” she added, hoping that this was a broad enough hint.

Daniel seemed to be looking out for someone – for James perhaps, or Louie, or just someone more interesting, Ramsay thought with dismay. “I could introduce you to some people if you want,” she offered, brightly, remembering that this was the original purpose of the invitation. “Friends of mine. Nice people.”

“OK, if you like,” said Daniel, “but I'd rather just talk to you.”

“Or we could go and watch the bonfire?” Ramsay suggested, backtracking. She didn't really want to share him unless she had to.

“Bonfire sounds good,” he said.

But before they had gone more than a few steps they were waylaid by a bunch of Ramsay's friends. They were wearing rows of fluorescent glow-sticks around their wrists and ankles. Ramsay hoped they weren't going to start giggling.

“This is Daniel,” she said, running through the register for his benefit; “Amy, Ellen, Rebecca, Sian.” His gaze flickered momentarily over the faces of the girls as they greeted him, and came to rest on Ramsay with an intensity that made her blush.

There seemed to be some delay with the bonfire; someone had left the taper on the grass and it was now damp and refusing to light. Cigarette lighters were offered and refused by the official in charge, and there was some slow handclapping from some of the crowd. At last a long spill made of rolled newspaper was produced, and its flame was held against the meths-soaked rag protruding from the base of the pyre.

They watched, mesmerised, as the bluish flame travelled along the rag and gradually the balled-up paper and twigs inside the wigwam of planks began to catch. Within thirty seconds the base of the bonfire was ablaze, fanned by a gusty wind, and flames were darting and leaping almost halfway up the structure.

“I like watching fire,” Ramsay said dreamily.

“I saw James with Grace earlier,” said Amy casually, and Ramsay felt Daniel grow suddenly attentive.

“Are they going out now?” asked Rebecca, turning to Ramsay for confirmation.

“Certainly looked like it from where I was standing,” Amy replied.

“I didn't even know you two had split up,” said Ellen.

“Forgot to mention it,” said Ramsay, grateful to Amy for bringing up the matter in Daniel's hearing. “I think they're very well suited.” She didn't feel a grain of possessiveness about James. The sooner he got a new girlfriend the freer she'd be.

The burning woodpile creaked and shifted, collapsing gradually as kitchen chairs and ladders and fence panels and the frightened-looking rocking horse were consumed in the flames. The wind changed direction, sending dense billows of smoke into their section of the crowd. They backed away, spluttering and covering their streaming eyes. Sparks rained down, and above their heads shreds of blackened paper danced in the night sky.

Watching the fire, Daniel was hit with a sudden panic. “Oh my God. Where's Louie?” he said, looking around wildly.

Through the smoke and commotion they saw Fay pushing through the crowd towards them. “Daniel! You better come. Something's happened.”