14

We first realize that the Gaffer might be after us

It took Ben and Charlie a second before they realized that I was pointing at the entries for the scarecrow competition. Ben looked at me, smiled, and then before I had a chance to tell him how it was going to work, he raced off shouting, “Bagsy Batman!”

That wasn’t happening—no way was he getting Batman. It was my fantastic solution, so I should get to choose. Ben did not agree with my reasoning—he picked up Batman and ran off with the super-scarecrow under his arm, trailing straw behind him. He wouldn’t stop even when he could see I was getting mad. He’s a really good runner. I was never going to catch him. So in the end I said, “Fine, you take it if you’re going to be so childish.”

That left Spiderman and Supergirl.

Supergirl was not an option.

Charlie must have realized that at the same time as me, because he launched himself at the Spiderman scarecrow, yelling, “Spidey’s mine!”

I tried everything to get the Spiderman scarecrow out from under Charlie but, on account of his sturdiness, my efforts were futile.

I ended up stuck with Supergirl.

I was furious but, on reflection, Charlie would never have fitted into the Supergirl outfit, so I guess it was a foregone conclusion I’d end up wearing it. I was not going to pretend to be happy about it though.

“Don’t look so miserable,” Ben said. “It actually really suits you. The skirt sort of flicks out when you walk.”

“Shut up.” I turned my back to them and the skirt did a pleasing flutter as I spun. I wanted to do another little spin, but I waited until Ben and Charlie weren’t watching.

“Are we keeping the masks?” Charlie asked. “I don’t feel complete without the mask.”

“You bet we’re keeping the masks,” Ben said, putting his on top of his head.

“Fine,” I said with a fake sigh, because there was no way I was leaving mine behind, but they didn’t need to know that.

We put the scarecrows back as best as we could. One of them had lost an arm and Supergirl’s head was drooping to one side in a way that was not anatomically possible, so I wouldn’t say our presentation was of award-winning quality.

I still feel a little guilty about destroying Clementine’s hard work. But frankly, we needed something to wear more than the scarecrows did.

Unfortunately, superhero costumes do not come with pockets, which is a massive oversight. Everybody needs pockets, even superheroes. But fortunately, the material is super clingy, which meant that when we put our money into our underpants it felt like it was being held in quite securely.

Before we left the park, there was one thing I had to do. I pulled the two gold swan rings out of my underpants and stuffed them onto one scarecrow’s hand.

Ben looked at me, wide-eyed. “You took those?”

“I did. But by mistake. I kind of panicked. What with the gun and all . . .”

“You stole priceless rings from a thief with a gun? Do you have a death wish?”

“I told you, I wasn’t thinking. The thief won’t know it was me who took them. If we just leave them here, maybe they’ll be handed in to the police.”

Charlie looked confused. “Dude, that’s a scarecrow, it’s not going to hand anything in.”

“I figured Big Trev and his mom would hand them in. See, I think there’s a reward. If it’s fifty pounds, that would make up for Ben getting Big Trev disqualified yesterday. Guys, we have totally ruined the whole Barry Festival for them.”

“I wouldn’t say I got him disqualified as such.”

I gave him a look that said, You’re not kidding anybody.

“Are we sure leaving the rings here is a good idea?” Charlie asked.

“We can’t exactly take them to a police station ourselves, can we? We’d have to tell them about how we found them and that would mean confessing to breaking and entering. And then I could forget about going off to find Alan Froggley.”

“Alright,” Ben said. “Let’s just leave them and go.”

We left the three sorry-looking scarecrows and headed into the center of Barry. As none of us had working phones, we had to find out the old-fashioned way what time the buses went, by checking the schedule at the bus stop. We’d done timetables in fifth year so we were well prepared. However, we were not prepared for the fact that there was no direct bus route from Barry to St. David’s.

“What now?” Charlie gave me a look like our situation was all my fault, which was incredible as he was the one who cooked our clothes.

I slid off the narrow bus-stop bench for the umpteenth time. Lycra and smooth surfaces = zero traction. “I guess we keep heading west. The first bus is in twenty minutes and it’s headed to Gileston. The timetable reckons it’s a thirty-two-minute trip.”

Ben kicked an empty Coke can in my direction. “Wow. What a plan.” His tone wasn’t helping the situation in the slightest.

“What’s your plan then?”

I think I wobbled my head in a slightly patronizing way because he wobbled his head back at me and said, “What about a taxi?”

I hadn’t thought about a taxi. I couldn’t deny it, it wasn’t a bad idea.

Charlie must have thought so too because he said, “Good plan, Batman.”

Ben gave me this scrunchy-faced smile and said, “And that’s why I got to wear the cool costume.”

He led the way to the taxi stand with this smug little swagger. I waited until he was a few feet in front and then stuck my tongue out at him behind his back. I only did it once though. Okay, twice.

There was only one cab at the stand. It was silver and had BIG T’S CABS written in black across the hood. Ben and Charlie suddenly got shy and pushed me forward to speak to the hairy man sitting in the driver’s seat. I peered in through the window. He had a full-sleeve tattoo that included a picture of the Welsh flag, a dragon, and a detailed map of Wales, which must have been very useful for a taxi driver.

I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, sir. How much for a taxi to St. David’s?”

He looked me up and down and said, “One hundred and fifty quid, but for you, princess, I’ll make it one forty-five.”

While I was flattered that my Supergirl outfit had got us a five-pound discount, we had nowhere near that kind of cash.

“Guess we’re bussing it,” Charlie sighed.

As we turned to leave, the cab’s radio buzzed.

“Go ahead, Dave, what you got for me?” the hairy man said into it.

“Stu, the Gaffer wants all drivers to keep a lookout for three boys seen running from his boat in the early hours of this morning.”

My stomach lurched and I almost vomited through the taxi window. It was very obvious that we were three boys. Charlie, Ben, and I exchanged worried glances.

Stu pressed his radio button. “Any description?”

We quickly pulled our masks down to cover our faces after he said that.

“Er, yeah. They’re only wearing their underpants. One of them is a bit overweight.”

I gulped and tried not to look at Charlie, who was doing his best to suck his stomach in, but Lycra is an unforgiving material to wear.

“Reckons they’re between the ages of eight and sixteen.”

Eight? Eight! I wasn’t sure who he thought was eight! In hindsight I think he was probably talking about Ben. He does have an immature way about him sometimes.

“What they gone and done?” Stu asked as he picked his teeth.

“Dunno. But the Gaffer is pretty anxious to find ’em. He don’t sound happy.”

“Okay, Dave. I’ll keep ’em peeled. Got three kids with me at the moment. But they’ve definitely got clothes on and one’s a girl.”

I didn’t know whether to be insulted or relieved.

When Stu put his receiver away, I said, “Thank you for your time,” in my best girl-like voice. Then we ran as fast as we could to the bus stop.

As we rounded the corner we saw that the 303 bus to Gileston was signaling to pull away from the bus stop. Ben raced ahead and managed to bang on the window. The driver let us on but he seemed grumpy about it, even though we were his only passengers.

“Guys, what’s a gaffer?” Charlie panted as we made our way down the bus aisle. “Is it something to do with that sticky-tape stuff?”

Ben said, “A gaffer is another word for a boss, you doughnut.”

“Oh, that makes more sense. Do you think the gaffer they were talking about owned the boat? Do you reckon he knows we stole his stolen goods?”

I flopped down on the back seat and Ben and Charlie sat on either side of me. “I dunno . . . yes, maybe. But I’m glad we’re not sticking around to find out.”

“I thought we were done for back there. Lucky Fred’s got such a pretty face,” Ben said, squishing my cheeks.

“Get off.” I batted him away. I wasn’t in the mood. “This morning has been a total nightmare.”

“It hasn’t been great,” Ben agreed.

Charlie pulled his Spiderman mask back up so that it sat on top of his head. “You don’t think he’ll come after us—the Gaffer?” His face had gone the same greenish-white color it went before he threw up after a ride on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the Andover fair.

“Nah, there’s no way he’ll know it was us,” I said, but my brain had started whirling.

Charlie’s face changed back to its normal pinkish color. “Yeah, you’re right. Hey, anyone want a peanut?” He magically produced a bag of peanuts from somewhere inside his costume.

I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. I didn’t want peanuts. I just wanted quiet for a bit. I needed to think. “That was more than enough excitement for one day.”

“You sound like my grandma,” Charlie laughed. And then his face fell. “Ah, sorry, Fred. Forgot your Grams is dead.”

“That’s okay.”

“Hey, Fred.”

“Yes, Charlie?”

“Do you reckon there’s a Giles finally resting in Gileston?”

“Charlie, do you think we could have some shush?”

“Okay, Fred.”

I settled back into my seat and closed my eyes. To start with, I enjoyed the little bit of peace and quiet, but then I began to go over the events of the morning in my mind. And then I began to quietly freak out.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a chance the Gaffer would figure out that it was us who’d been on Llywelyn-the-Great, broken a door, started a fire, ruined his toothbrush, and stolen his rings. We’d probably left fingerprints all over the place.

The smart thing to do would have been to give up and go home. But when I thought about going back without ever meeting my biological father, especially after every thing we’d been through to get here, I got this horrible aching feeling in my belly.

I realize now that the aching feeling was more about Grams. I guess when you’re lost in a strange place it’s not so easy to figure things out. At the time, though, my mind was set on one thing—finishing my journey to find Alan Froggley. For that to happen, we’d have to be way more careful and keep a low profile. That meant no more breaking and entering, no more accidental arson, and no more robbery.

But keeping a low profile turned out to be much harder than I had anticipated.