Authors: Gabrielle Lord
December (9 page)
Where could I hide? Where could I go? I was trapped!
I spun around. The whole airport erupted into chaos. Travellers were dropping their bags and rushing to catch a glimpse of the airport TV screens, talking and gesturing excitedly to each other.
What was happening?
‘Look!’ cried Winter, pointing to a smaller screen in the quarantine area.
The four of us squinted up at the screen. It was a news report. A breaking news banner ran beneath the newsreader.
‘Teen fugitive, Callum Ormond,’ I read, ‘leads police on wild chase. Police Commissioner calls for calm.’
Winter grabbed my arm.
‘We interrupt this broadcast for breaking news,’ the newsreader announced. I strained my
ears to hear her words over the hubbub around me. ‘We’re going live to our on-the-scene reporter. Tell us, Anton, we’ve had reports that Callum Ormond has been located and is leading police on a
car
chase? Where is he and what is happening as we speak?’
‘It’s a baffling scene here, Julia. It appears that shortly after two o’clock this afternoon, wanted fugitive, Callum Ormond, rammed a car into the doors of the city police headquarters. He then jumped out and fled
on foot
, and was captured just moments ago outside Town Hall. The entire
incident
was caught on closed-circuit TV and police have confirmed that they have arrested Ormond and that he has been taken into custody.’
What?
Boges, Winter and Sharkey stood rooted beside me, staring at the screen.
‘What on earth is going on?’ hissed Boges. ‘They’ve arrested Callum Ormond? But—’
‘Ryan!’
I softly cried, with unspeakable relief. ‘Ryan must be behind this! He knew I was flying out today! He’s done this to make sure I get out of the country!’
Overhead, we could hear the helicopters that were hovering near the airport move away, towards the city.
The officer who had called us over earlier
waved us on hurriedly. ‘We’d better make our move right now,’ said Sharkey, confidence
returning
to his eyes.
He beamed as he led us towards the distracted customs counter. He knew we were safe. No-one would be looking for me now.
We’d made it. The four of us slumped into the stiff chairs of the boarding lounge, exhausted, drained, relieved. We’d be on the plane within minutes.
I pulled out my phone, preparing to switch it off, when I noticed an unread message sitting in my inbox from about an hour ago.
cal, it’s ryan. i’m about to do something pretty crazy … i really hope it helps u make it through the airport & onto that plane. who knows, it may even force our mother into seeing me. hopefully the cops believe me when i tell them it’s just an innocent driving lesson gone wrong! safe trip, bro! see u when u get back!
The freezing-cold air of Christmas Eve was a shock, even though we’d anticipated it. We hailed a taxi to take us to our small hotel in Temple Bar, in the south-west of Dublin. Christmas lights lined the riverside quays and the driver
commented
on several points of interest, including the Liffey River, the Abbey Theatre and the blue lights of the Garda—police—Station. We were too exhausted to take much notice, although it was good to know that the Garda wouldn’t be looking out for Psycho Kid.
At the hotel, we all checked in under our fake names. Boges and I were sharing a room, while Winter had a tiny attic room above us. She could barely turn around in there, but was more than happy with it. Sharkey’s room was just across the
corridor from us. Other Sharkeys from all over the world had also arrived in Ireland for their huge Christmas reunion. Their celebrations were starting tomorrow, at a place called Roscommon, so Nelson was only staying one night. In the morning he would be heading off, then meeting up with us again after a few days.
After we’d settled in, Boges and I called Dr Theophilus Brinsley, the Keeper of Rare Books, to let him know we’d arrived.
‘Tomorrow’s Christmas Day,’ he said. ‘How about we meet on Boxing Day? The library will be quiet, because of the holiday. Meet me outside on the stairs at ten o’clock.’
‘Perfect. See you soon. Oh, and merry
Christmas
,’ I added, before hanging up.
I looked over to Boges. He’d already collapsed back into his bed, softly snoring. I wanted to do exactly that too—sleep. On a
bed
. A bed. With sheets and a pillow and a clean pillowcase. For the first time in almost a year, I felt safe enough to sleep soundly.
Before I drifted off, I pictured my dad. I shoved all of my recent suspicions and uncertainties out of my mind and visualised him as I remembered him on the day he left for Ireland. Being here, I
was feeling closer to him than ever. Soon I would go to Clonmel Way Guest House and retrace his last known steps.
The breakfast room was festooned with coloured lights, and two wooden reindeer stood by the entrance—their antlers decorated with shiny baubles hanging on golden threads. We were the only people in there.
Sharkey had shared a quick cup of coffee with us before leaving to go and meet his relatives for lunch. He’d looked a bit unsettled, and I guessed it was because he was missing his kids. Boges, too, was looking a bit down. He’d called his mum and gran earlier, but had never been happy about leaving them alone at Christmas.
‘As soon as we get back home, we’ll have to have our own Christmas lunch together. With lots of presents and a big roast with lots of potatoes,’ I said, wishfully.
‘Can’t wait,’ said Winter.
‘Me neither,’ said Boges, ‘especially for the feed.’
Past Christmases with Mum and Dad had always made me and Gab think about how lucky we were. I knew Gabbi would be missing me today, but I wondered how my mum felt and whether she’d met Ryan—her lost son—yet. Then I looked at this amazing girl across from me now, Winter, who’d lost so much and yet had such fierce determination to recover what was rightfully hers, while also helping me recover what was rightfully mine. I then turned to Boges, my loyal mate and ally. He was as solid as a rock.
‘What’s this?’ asked Winter, picking up a small white envelope from the table, left where Sharkey had been sitting.
‘Open it,’ I urged.
Winter carefully eased it open and out slipped a small plastic sleeve, the size of a credit card. Inside was a flat-pressed four-leaf clover.
‘How sweet,’ exclaimed Winter, holding it up for us to see. ‘He must have been too shy to just give it to us, so he left it behind. I hope it really is lucky!’
‘That’s cool,’ said Boges, examining it closely.
I looked down at the clover Sharkey had left behind. He was doing for us what I was sure he wished he could do for his own kids. Maybe I could somehow help him reunite with them, once we were back home.
We’d decided to check out the location of
tomorrow’s
meeting with the Keeper of Rare Books, so we rugged up and headed out into a bleak Christmas morning. We strolled along the
cobbled
streets, past pubs and convenience stores, following the map the hotel owner had given us for Trinity College.
Winter walked briskly beside me, wearing a long white coat and a red woollen scarf tied around her neck. The green beret sat crookedly on her head and she tugged on it to straighten it. Boges and I were both wearing long, black woollen trench coats and beanies.
Being in Ireland, so far away from home, had definitely made me relax more than usual, but I was still very aware that Sheldrake Rathbone could be anywhere.
Church bells chimed as we walked through the quiet streets and through the huge Trinity College gateway. On the other side was an almost deserted quadrangle dominated by a bell tower in the middle of the large open square, surrounded by grand buildings. Only a few people, heads buried in their collars against the cold air, crossed the pathways through the perfect lawns. We paused at the bell tower and then followed the sign pointing towards the old library.
Standing on the steps outside, shivering in the cold, we smiled at each other. It was finally happening after all these months. We’d made it to Ireland and we were almost ready to take the prize. By tomorrow afternoon we could have the last two lines of the Ormond Riddle, and maybe we’d even know the location of the ruins in the photos Dad had taken. We could be way ahead of Rathbone in just twenty-four hours.