‘Great, great,’ muttered the paramedic in the back. ‘Why not? I read a few myself. Uh, why do you want to go to –’
‘Did I say you could talk?’ yelled Sylvie.
The rest of the journey occurred without conversation. Jules in the front kept glancing back in the rearview mirror, but he didn’t try anything. Ron closed his eyes and took very regular, very controlled breaths. Sylvie watched him like a hawk, her eyes brighter than they should have been for someone so old.
Leaf sat and worried. She could still feel the pressure in her head, but it hadn’t got any worse. She still couldn’t think of anything else to do but call Dame Primus and hope that the Will would help in some way. Preferably by taking the pocket and getting to Arthur so he could destroy the Skinless Boy. Though even that might not help those already affected by the mould.
Even if there was something that Dame Primus or Dr Scamandros could do about the mould, Leaf knew she was going to be in a whole lot of trouble – but hopefully not the kind that ended with her being one more drooling zombie in the slave army of the Skinless Boy.
‘We’re almost there,’ said Jules from the front. ‘Do you want me to pull over?’
‘Yes,’ said Sylvie. ‘Girl, look out the window. See if we’ve got any company. If we have …’
‘I haven’t done a thing!’ protested Jules. Ron took an even deeper, more measured breath, but didn’t open his eyes.
Leaf looked out the tinted windows in the back of the ambulance. She couldn’t see anyone or any other vehicles on the street. But she could see the house numbers. There was Arthur’s house a couple of doors down from where they were parked.
‘There’s no one there.’
‘Good,’ said Sylvie. ‘Go and pick me some flowers, girl. I’ll wait here.’
‘But I don’t –’ Leaf got into the act.
‘I said, go get me some flowers!’ ordered Sylvie with a maniacal giggle.
‘Whatever you say,’ said Leaf.
She climbed out the back, missing the sight of Ron trying to blink an SOS at her.
‘Stop that!’ ordered Sylvie. ‘You just get flowers, girl. Nothing else! And shut the door!’
Leaf shut the door and quickly walked up to Arthur’s house. It was pretty big, but the front door was very visible across the lawn. Leaf ignored that and walked on till she came to the driveway. Ten feet from the garage door, she knelt down and pressed the button on the remote wired in place under a rock, exactly as Arthur had told her.
The remote opened the side door of the garage. Leaf crossed the drive, looking up at the house’s windows as she did, but she didn’t see anyone looking out.
Once inside the garage, it was quick work to get into the house proper and up the stairs. There were three levels above the garage, Leaf knew, and Arthur’s bedroom was right at the top.
She felt a bit weird breaking into someone’s house, and very nervous as well. More nervous than in the ambulance for some reason, though hijacking and kidnapping the paramedics was a really serious crime. Every time she took a step and it sounded louder on the stairs than she’d thought it would, she freaked out, anticipating a sudden meeting with Arthur’s dad or one of his sisters or brothers.
They’re probably all at the hospital, Leaf tried to reassure herself. Or staying with friends or something. The house is really quiet. Only one more floor to go … She arrived on the third-level landing. There were three bedroom doors and a bathroom door. Arthur’s was the first on the left … Or was it the first on the right?
Leaf suddenly doubted her memory. Surely Arthur had said first on the left?
Leaf quietly opened the door on the left and peered in. Then she shut it again as quietly as she could and backed away.
There was a girl in there, with her back to the door and earphones in, listening to music – or maybe the news – while she did something complicated with a light pen and big flat-panel display.
Leaf swallowed and opened the right-hand door, trying to be just as quiet. It was Arthur’s room, exactly as described, though tidier. And on the bookshelf was a red velvet box.
Leaf hurried over to the box, picked it up, and put it on the bed, taking off the lid at the same time. There was a phone inside. An old-fashioned phone, like a candlestick with the mouthpiece on that, and an earpiece on a cord. Leaf took the phone out and held it in front of her mouth, sat on the bed, and pressed the earpiece against her ear.
Even though the telephone was not visibly connected to anything, Leaf heard an old-fashioned, crackly dial tone, which was quickly replaced by a voice.
‘This is the Operator. What number, please?’