Leave the Last Page (8 page)

TOM AND GRANDMA PATTY WERE WAITING TO CATCH THE BUS. She felt that the next stop on their adventure would more than likely be in the town centre or thereabouts, considering that it should be a public place if it matched the story. That meant they were a good hour's walk away.

‘Although we're feeling sprightly at the minute, there's every chance the story could wear a little thin in places.' She tapped her walking stick against his legs. ‘And we know what that might mean.'

‘Not so hard, Grandma.' Tom said, clutching the top of his thigh.

‘Not so soft, Master Tommy.' They were sat together in the bus shelter.

‘I'm not being soft, I just don't want you hitting me with the stick!'

‘You seem a little grumpy; what's up?'

He didn't really want to tell her. Truth was, he was more than a little bit scared. Not necessarily of the way his story creations were coming alive and posing mortal threats. It was more the real danger of the world as it was. He'd been blown away behind a set of patio doors, glass flying past his face. How close to losing an eye? He'd used the electricity from live cables to defeat the monster tramp; had he got that wrong he could have easily electrocuted himself. That was all more frightening than fantastical creatures, somehow.

‘I'm okay. Maybe thinking too much.' He pointed to another sticker on her walking stick. ‘Mastodon? Isn't that like, a prehistoric elephant or something? Spooky, seeing as we're after a dinosaur tooth.'

‘You know what I'm going to tell you, don't you?'

‘They're a hard rock band?'

‘One of the hardest.'

‘Like a boulder then!' Grandma gave him a little smirk. Another thought popped into his head. ‘Hey, didn't there used to a band called T-Rex?' He thought he'd seen a
Best of…
CD in his dad's collection.

‘Hmm…music for little girls in pigtails.'

‘Oh…okay.' He thought it might be worth moving the conversation on. ‘So, do you think we'll find a dinosaur tooth?'

‘If we do, it won't be in a museum. The town doesn't have one. There are a few peculiar little shops around that sell just about anything you can imagine, even someone with your imagination. We'll try them.' She stood up and stuck out an arm, but winced a little as she flexed the elbow. ‘Come on – our chariot's here.'

The number five double-decker bus pulled over. They each ascended the high step and paid their fare. The bottom level was pretty full. A young man seated near the front stood up and offered Grandma Patty his seat. She scoffed at him but in a well-meaning way. ‘You're joking, aren't you? We're going upstairs to the back seat! Come along, dearie!' She and Tom scurried up before the bus got moving again.

*

It took ten minutes to get into the town centre. A short walk from the bus station put them in the middle of a busy precinct of shops. Tom knew it well, but it seemed to look a little different from his new upright position compared to being sat in a chair. He did, somewhat bizarrely, feel a twinge of loss for Dodge.
I hope he's found his way back to Mum and Dad.

Grandma Patty waved her stick towards a side street. ‘There's a place down there that might be interesting.'

The place in question was called
Odds, Sods an' Things.
It was a singled fronted store with a large window crammed full with all kinds of bric-a-brac, arranged in no logical order. Tom could see lava lamps, Punch and Judy puppets, a twin-necked guitar, a wall-mounted singing fish, and a collection of painted ships and aeroplanes, amongst other things. No dinosaur tooth. Grandma Patty was looking beyond the wares and into the shop. ‘Doesn't look like there's been a disturbance.' She nodded to the notebook in Tom's hand. ‘If it's anything like the story, we should have just missed him.' She scanned the street around them, looking for any other signs of mayhem. Nothing looked out of place or affected in any way. She turned back to the shop. ‘Let's hope he hasn't been up to too much mischief, but instead has left us a juicy clue.'

Tom, still looking in the window, watched steel marbles on wire continuously clang into each other on a desk toy. ‘Or we're at the wrong place.'

‘Or we're at the wrong place. Let's find out, shall we?' A little bell tinkled as Grandma Patty pushed the door open.

Inside, the store was long and thin. The walls were floor to ceiling with shelves, crammed with all manner of memorabilia and trinkets. Like the window, there didn't seem to be any logical order to it. Along the centre of the shop ran a line of cabinets with glass displays on the tops. Tom could only see the first one at the moment: there was an oversized, ornate smoking pipe in it, resting on a red velvet mound. At the end of the long room was a bare desk, except for an old fashioned till. A bespectacled and balding man sat behind it. He stood, and as they walked further into the shop, he slid out from behind his desk and inched towards them. Tom and his grandma were looking at what seemed to be a crocodile's foot encased in a giant marble, when he sidled up to them.

‘See anything you like?'

‘Not that, for a start,' said Patty. ‘Get much interest in those, do you?'

‘You'd be surprised at people's taste.' He looked at Grandma's outfit. ‘There's no guessing what folk like.'

Tom grinned as he inspected the next display cabinet. It was an old toy robot with a key sticking out of its back. He put his hand on the glass.

‘Don't touch that!' snapped the old man. ‘It's not meant for children!'

‘Ermm…it's a toy robot?'

‘It used to be. Now it's an antique.'

Grandma Patty interrupted. ‘Anyway, that's not the kind of thing we're after. I'm interested in…well, teeth. Anything made from teeth, or maybe bones. Something fossily perhaps?'

Tom jumped in. ‘And has anyone been in already today and bought something like that?'

The old man gave them both quizzical looks. ‘Well, aren't you two a pair?
Teeth
indeed! And you rolled your eyes at a crocodile's foot!'

Grandma Patty thumped her stick against the floorboards. ‘So do you have anything?'

He pushed his glasses up his long nose, then scratched the tip of it. ‘I think I have a goat's skull, but that's about it.' He stared off into the light from the windows. ‘Let me think…'

Tom and Patty stepped further into the shop, browsing shelves as they went. ‘I don't think we're in the right place,' said Tom.

‘What the blazes!' yelled the old man. He strode towards the front door and left the premises. As Tom and Patty followed, they saw him staring into his own shop window, or rather
at
it.

The name of the shop was stencilled onto the glass, and that was what he seemed to be looking at. When they got outside they understood his confusion. It didn't read
Odds, Sods an' Things
any more. Instead it said
Odds, Sugs er thangs.
They glanced up at the larger wooden sign above the shop. It read the same. Then they looked back at the glass. The stencil now read:
Snuggerthang
.

‘We're at the right place,' said Patty. ‘Back inside everyone!' The old proprietor protested but with the help of her stick she ushered him over the threshold. ‘Now then – who else has been in today, and what did they buy?'

He seemed a little dazed. ‘I've…I've had visitors today, but nobody has bought anything. What did you do to my-'

‘Is anything missing?' asked Tom.

‘Not that I know of.' Then his eyes widened a little. ‘Bone, you say? Teeth?' He moved towards the back of the store, Patty and Tom in tow.

The last case along the centre aisle was not made of glass, but in fact was a wooden box. Elephants were delicately carved into the surface. ‘I've got an idea of what's in here, but I haven't got the key to open it,' said the old shopkeeper. ‘I daren't force it open because the box is so beautiful, and I just haven't got round to finding a locksmith I can trust…'

‘Allow me,' said Patty. She took the key from around her neck, the one from the fountain. It didn't look like it was going to be the right size, but as she held the metal next to the opening, it changed its shape and slipped into the slot perfectly. It turned with a satisfying click.

The old man stared agog, but then laid his hand flat on top of the box so that Patty couldn't open it. ‘Allow me, please.' Gently, he eased the lid open. ‘Just as I expected,' he said.

An ivory tusk lay on blue velvet, a jewelled hilt protruding from the flat end. ‘It originated from India, probably around two hundred years ago. Of course, it's not something you should be selling these days –
ivory
. That's why I couldn't allow just anybody to open the box. Now I've seen it though, it definitely isn't for sale.' He reached in and lifted the hilt, then secured the tusk with his other hand. He pulled gently on the hilt. It came free of the tusk, revealing a shining, silver blade. It was a beautiful yet deadly thing. He pushed it back together then returned it to the velvet. ‘Not for sale,' he repeated. ‘However, if you'd like a buyer for that key of yours…'

‘Look at the lid,' said Tom.

The old man closed the box. The ornate carvings of elephants had been replaced. With dragons, or at least creatures that seemed to be mix between dragons and dinosaurs. The old man squeaked: ‘What on earth is going on here? What are you two up to?'

Then the doorbell tinkled.

Stood in the doorway was a pale man in a black suit. ‘Sorry I'm a little late,' he said, removing gloves from his uncommonly large hands. ‘I had some other dealings to attend to. But now I'm here…' He stretched out his arms as if awaiting an embrace. ‘Let's do business!'

A ferocious wind blew through the shop, sending antiques and artefacts toppling. The old man squealed as he tried to prevent things from falling off his shelves.

The wooden box slid off the cabinet. As it hit the floor the lid flipped open. The dagger in its tusk sheath started to wobble. ‘Grab it, Tom!' shouted Patty.

Tom made a lunge for the box. He got his fingers inside, but then the lid slammed shut, crunching against his knuckles. He screamed in pain.

The man in black chuckled as he walked through the store. ‘An old lady and a boy? Really? Is that all I have to contend with?' He swirled his long fingers. The box lid sprang open, and then snapped down again. Tom gritted his teeth as tears formed. When it opened again he removed his hand swiftly and tucked it under his armpit.

The tusk lifted out of the box and flew towards Kildark's outstretched hand.

It never got there though. A whack from a walking stick sent it flying onto an empty shelf.

Grandma Patty stepped in front of him. ‘Before you take something else, I think you have something to return. To me.'

He smiled. The corners of his mouth stretched unnaturally wide and exposed sharp teeth. ‘I'm rather taken with your mother's necklace. I think I'll be keeping it.'

He moved his arm towards the tusk, but Patty batted it down with the stick. Kildark withdrew his arm, looking mildly irritated like you would at a buzzing fly. She sidestepped to catch his eye again. ‘What do you want with the necklace? Do you even
know
?'

This seemed to annoy him. ‘Get out of my way,
hag
!' The force from his booming voice sent her flying backwards; she landed in a pile of rare books that had toppled from one of the shelves.

This time when Kildark stretched out his arm for the tusk, nothing stopped it. His long fingers closed around the horn shape. With the other hand he unsheathed the blade. ‘I do like shiny things!'

He was about to fit it back together, but stopped as Tom got closer. ‘You're brave!' shouted the boy. ‘Taking on pensioners! Sending them sprawling!' Tom had just dragged the old man out from under a collapsed shelving unit.

Amused, Kildark exposed the full blade of the dagger. ‘And should I now take on a young boy? Slit his soft throat?'

‘If that's the kind of coward you are!' The weapon did look frightening in Kildark's hands though. Tom did his best to control his frantic breathing. ‘I'm ready for you!'

The man in the black suit laughed. ‘Oh dear! I think you've watched too many movies, my lad. The odds are against you here, and you don't get to win. I don't care about being cowardly, or about not being
brave
. You see, that's the concern of heroes, and I am clearly a villain.' Then the smile fell from his face. His voice became gritty. ‘I could gut you before you felt the first bite of cold steel. I could eat your heart while it was still beating.'

Tom involuntarily took a step back.

However, Kildark sheathed the blade fully, and tucked it inside his jacket. ‘But I'm not going to do that. It would be too easy. Instead I fancy more of a sport. Perhaps an enraged father and a persistent policeman? Their struggle – albeit brief – would be more satisfying than you mismatched pair!' Patty had hobbled over to Tom and now stood beside him. ‘How comical you both look.'

A voice squeaked from behind them. ‘Get out of my shop!'

They turned to see the old man, spectacles askew on his long and reddened nose, advance towards them. Held out in front of him was the oldest looking shotgun Tom had ever seen. ‘You might want to duck!' shouted the shopkeeper.

They ducked.

The sound of the shot boomed around the room, and the shop window exploded outwards.

The man in the black suit was nowhere to be seen. ‘Where'd that rapscallion go?' bellowed the old man. ‘He disappeared into thin air!'

Patty uncovered her ears. ‘I think he tends to do that.'

They heard a car engine roar outside, then a large black shape whizzed past the window.

Patty and Tom helped each other to their feet. She noticed Tom's red and swollen fingers. ‘Are you okay?'