| |
Several hours later, Clara’s mum and Peter picked her up from the train station and drove her home. Peter spent the entire – thankfully short – trip telling Clara about how he’d progressed through a dozen levels of his game while she was away, and he’d got loads of cool stuff for his warrior to fight with.
“Really?” asked Clara, distractedly. “That’s cool.” She was looking out of the car window at the familiar surroundings. She loved going to stay with her aunt, but she loved coming home even more.
After unpacking her things, Clara left the house and walked up to the hilltop clearing. As she breasted the hill she was disappointed, but not entirely surprised, to find Luke wasn’t there. What did I think? she thought. That he’d be sitting up here pining for me?
“Tch,” she said walking to the back edge of the clearing. She peeked, nervously, out in the direction of the scrubland. She wasn’t sure if she was more afraid the Gypsies would have moved on, or that they would still be there. She held her breath as she gazed out. Then she let out a whoosh of relief. Happiness bubbled in her stomach as she gazed fondly down on the eight caravans in the clearing and saw several familiar figures moving about the campsite. Okay, so they were still there – she still had the opportunity to speak to him. Clara’s knees gave way in relief and she flopped down onto the grass.
Then she heard a bark behind her. She didn’t have the chance to turn before Bob pounced on her and started licking her frantically. It appeared that he’d missed her and was glad she was back.
“Argh!” said Clara, throwing her arms up in defence as the dog pushed her over on to her back in his enthusiasm. “Bob, stop it.” And she started to splutter with laughter. Bob was a heavy dog and she could hardly breathe with his weight on top of her. She rolled onto her side to make him slip off. Not to be put off, he jumped back to his feet and continued to try and lick her.
Clara took a handful of his scruff in both hands and held him steady. She gazed into his eyes. “Calm down,” she said as sternly as she could while trying not to laugh, then pulled him into a big hug. He did calm down after that, sitting with his body leaning against her, his tail thumping periodically, as he gazed up at her with his soft brown eyes. After a while, he lay down and dozed off. Clara stroked him absentmindedly as she wondered what to do about Luke.
And then, as if her thinking about him had conjured him, he appeared over the brow of the hill.
Clara’s heart leapt. Where had he appeared from? How had he known she was here? Gosh, it was good to see him. He had the same floppy haircut, the same jeans and T-shirt, albeit a bit grubbier than they used to be, with what looked like oil stains on them. He was breathing heavily from the climb.
Luke stopped a few steps away from Clara and peered down at her pensively. Feeling at a disadvantage, Clara got slowly to her feet.
“Hi,” she said nervously, wiping grass from her jeans.
“Hi,” he replied. Bob lifted his muzzle, peeped over his shoulder at Luke and said “Yowp” before putting his head back down and going back to sleep.
Luke put his hands on his hips, appearing to find the situation awkward. They stood, looking at each other in silence, neither of them knowing what to say.
Clara cleared her throat. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you and stormed away.” She flushed.
“No, it’s okay,” replied Luke, taking a step towards her. “I shouldn’t have stood you up. It was rude.” And he gave her a nervous, crooked grin. Clara felt her heart swell. She swallowed, unable to say anything due to the emotions sloshing inside her. She sat back down on the ground, momentarily turning away to pull herself together. Luke walked up to her and, out of the corner of her eye, saw him sit down, curl one leg under the other and start fidgeting with one of his trainers.
“So,” he said. “Where’ve you been lately?”
“Aunt Selina’s,” replied Clara.
“How is she?” asked Luke.
“Okay,” replied Clara. “She tires easily and can’t do as much as she used to. But she’s okay.”
“Does she still shape-shift?” asked Luke.
Clara shook her head. “Only in emergencies,” she replied, and told Luke about their adventure seeking the missing child. When she’d finished, she glanced over at Luke and saw admiration glinting in his eyes.
Clara flushed. “So,” she said, to deflect his attention, “what’ve you been up to?”
A shadow fleetingly crossed Luke’s face. “Working,” he said shortly. “With Dad.”
Clara tensed. She could sense by his curt response he was keeping something from her again. She felt the hurt and resentment she’d felt before she went away rushing back, and she tried to swallow the feelings away.
“Oh?” she said as brightly as she could muster. “That’s nice.”
Luke sighed. “To be honest,” he said, “it’s been difficult to get away from him. And when I’m not with Dad, then someone else is always watching me.” He frowned over at Clara. “It’s pretty annoying.”
Clara frowned. “Why are they watching you so closely?” she asked, although she suspected she already knew the answer.
Luke shrugged. “They think Uncle Simon is up to something again.”
“Do they know what?” Clara asked.
“No,” said Luke. “It might not have anything to do with me, but they’re not taking any chances.”
Clara’s heart quickened. If they thought Luke was in danger, then he shouldn’t be here with her now. She jerked around quickly, as if kidnappers were lurking in the nearby bushes.
Luke snorted. “Don’t you start getting paranoid, too,” he said.
Clara felt a wave of pity for him. He was a loner, like her. She knew how she would feel if she was never left on her own – if she was constantly being watched. She put a hand on his arm in sympathy.
“I should probably get back,” Luke said despondently. “Before they notice I’m missing.” And he stood up. Clara also stood, as did Bob, and they escorted Luke to the bottom of the hill. Clara watched Luke and Bob walking back to the camp before taking one last thorough look round. Satisfied that all was fine, she returned to her own home.
“And just where have you been?” her mum asked sternly as Clara arrived home.
“Walking in the woods,” Clara replied truthfully.
“And did you see anyone while you were out?” her mum asked.
“Yes,” said Clara nervously. “I spoke to Luke.” She gulped and held her breath, hiding her expression from her mum while she pulled her trainers off. Clara had told Aunt Selina about her row with her parents over Luke, and her aunt had agreed to call Clara’s mum and speak to her about it. Clara was desperately hoping Selina had persuaded her mum to let Clara and Luke be friends. There was a tense silence.
“I want to know when you are going out to meet him,” her mum said finally. “And you are not to be out late. You have a nine o’clock curfew from now on, is that understood?”
Clara nodded. “Okay,” she said solemnly. “I understand.” She flicked a glance in her mum’s direction. Her mum was turning away to deal with a boiling pot on the stove, so she missed the look of pure joy and intense relief on Clara’s face. Clara hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room, where she punched the air.
“Yesss!” she whispered. “Yes, yes, yes.” And she collapsed on the bed with an exaggerated sigh. She couldn’t wait to tell Luke the news.
***
When the pair met up the following day, Luke had some good news of his own. It seemed that, after he’d left Clara the day before, he’d told Grams they were friends again and Grams had persuaded Des to let Luke go out of camp on his own, as long as he was meeting Clara. Clara gave a little cheer. Luke was going to work with his dad in the mornings then meet up with Clara in the afternoons.
While Clara was disappointed she couldn’t spend the whole day with Luke, the arrangement gave her an unforeseen opportunity. Since Luke had told Clara about his uncle’s suspicious activities, Clara had been worried about him. She wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, to protect him from anything his uncle may be up to – but now she had the chance to do some sleuthing on her own. While Luke was working with his dad, Clara could investigate whether anything suspicious was going on near the camp. And if nothing seemed to be suspicious, she could relax and enjoy the remainder of her holidays with Luke.
And so it went. During the mornings Clara transformed into various animals to scour the woodland, farmland and scrubland to see if she could identify any signs that Luke or the camp were in danger. She took the form of a buzzard and flew high over the camp, her keen eyes scouring the land below as she soared. She took the form of a squirrel and bounded from branch to branch, looking for broken twigs or gouged bark where cameras may have been placed. And she transformed into her dog form and sniffed under the bushes for any trace of human scent. She found nothing suspicious, which allowed her to relax and enjoy her afternoons with Luke.
During her surveillance Clara noticed that some of the Gypsies stayed at the camp during the day, always watchful. Some camp members went away to ‘visit relatives’ in other camps to collect any information they could about Uncle Simon’s clan. On their return, they would join Des and Grams for private, lengthy meetings. Clara often caught frustrated looks from Luke when, on his dad’s instructions, he had to curtail their time together and, from time to time, he would sigh for no apparent reason.
When they met, Luke was often quiet, and Clara would have to cajole him into telling her the latest news from the camp. Luke reported that, since they weren’t a large group, the guard rotas were proving taxing to maintain and making everyone tense and irritable – particularly as they had to be surreptitious about it. The local townsfolk tended to avoid the scrubland, knowing the Gypsies were there, and Des knew it would cause no end of trouble if someone reported to the police that the Gypsies were acting aggressively or suspiciously in any way. They didn’t want to provoke any attention from the local authorities if possible. Des had also implemented drills, ensuring each member of the camp knew what to do when the alarm “DEFEND, DEFEND!” was called. Oddly, this news comforted Clara. While she sympathised with Luke, who was feeling responsible for the camp’s troubles, and who desperately wanted things to get back to normal, she felt better knowing Des was taking the threat to Luke seriously, and that the camp was prepared.
Mostly the pair stayed as far from the camp as they could get, wandering the woodland, finding animals to observe, or walking to the local shop to buy magazines or sweets, which they took to their clearing. If it was raining, Grams would invite Luke and Clara to her caravan for a cup of tea. She’d tell stories about all the places she’d visited over the years, and the Gypsies she’d treated with her home-made medicines. One day, she mentioned something about a Gypsy gathering.
“What’s that?” asked Clara.
“Well,” said Grams, “Gypsy clans largely keep to themselves. If we get together in large numbers for long periods it tends to cause problems. But Gypsies have a code—”
“A code?” interrupted Clara.
“A set of laws that we abide by,” explained Grams. “We get together every once in a while to discuss the code – to vote on whether any of the laws should be amended, or added to, or if any of them are no longer needed, for instance. Clans who are not adhering to the code are discussed, to see whether sanctions are needed to bring them back into line.”
“Sanctions?” asked Clara, her eyes widening.
Grams chuckled. “Well, we don’t have any kind of Gypsy police service,” she said. “We expect the clans to moderate their own behaviour. But sometimes bad behaviour by one clan can affect all of us, and that’s when the Gypsy council puts pressure on the offending clan to sort themselves out.”
“And what if they don’t?” asked Luke.
“There are sanctions we can put on them,” replied Grams. “Often clans are reliant on each other for certain specialist skills, engineers, blacksmiths, carpenters and such like, and these can be denied. It’s more of a warning the council is taking a clan’s breach of the code seriously. A clan can manage without the support of others, if they have to. But the sanctions are designed to give them pause and make them mend their ways.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” asked Clara.
“Well, the council can force the disbanding of a clan as a last resort, if it feels it’s for the greater good of all Gypsies. This rarely happens, though, and would need a unanimous vote of the council. Usually the threat of it is enough to temper the hot-headed.”
“When was the last time it happened?” asked Clara, glancing at Luke then back at Grams.
“Not for a long time,” replied Grams. “As I said, most clans moderate their own behaviour. It did happen once, when I was a young girl. I don’t know what the clan did to deserve it, as I was too young to be included in the council meetings at the gathering. But I do remember everyone was very angry at them and the decision was taken to disband them.”
“What happened to them?” asked Luke.
Grams shrugged. “Most of the clan members were invited to join other clans, either because of family ties or because they had skills the other clans wanted. The clan leader took off on his own – he turned his back on the council and never came to another gathering. I heard that he left the country and went off to Europe. He hasn’t been heard from since.”
Luke and Clara were silent as they considered what Grams had told them.
“How often is there a gathering?” asked Clara.
“Every three years, usually,” said Grams. “Although one can be called in the meantime if something serious happens.”
“Where does it happen?” asked Clara.
“Several different places,” said Grams. “By necessity. There are usually thousands of Gypsies who attend, and towns and villages nearby don’t like having that many Gypsies on their doorstep. We usually hold them in areas where there is an existing permanent Gypsy site – it doesn’t come as such a shock then.”
Clara tried to imagine what it would be like to have several thousand Gypsy caravans descend on this piece of scrubland. While she thought it would be exciting, she grimaced as she thought about how the townsfolk would react.
“Does the council know about what Uncle Simon did?” asked Luke.
Grams nodded. “Yes, we told them when he tried to kidnap you. Unfortunately, we didn’t have any proof as the kidnappers all got away, so the council were unable to take any action.” Grams sighed. “They’ve been informed, however, and are keeping an eye on Simon as best they can. Now, it looks like the rain’s stopped, why don’t you two go out for a while? You’ve been cooped up in here with me for far too long.” And Grams chuckled as she ushered them out of the caravan.