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Clara couldn’t put their conversation with Grams out of her mind, and she continued to question Luke about Gypsy politics whenever they met up.
“Have you been to any Gypsy gatherings?” Clara asked Luke when they were sitting on a rock in the shade of a tree at the hilltop clearing.
“Yeah, a few,” Luke replied. “To be honest, I wasn’t really that interested in what they were about – all those people!” He shuddered, and Clara chuckled. “I mostly went out and about on my own, looking for animals. I was forever coming back with pockets full of slow worms and frogs and things like that. Of course, I was made to release them before I was let back into any of the caravans. But I generally didn’t have a clue what everybody else was doing. Sometimes...” Luke started then stared down at his feet, scuffing a stone on the ground. “Sometimes I’d bump into small groups of kids from other camps, but they thought I was a weirdo with pockets full of frogs, so they’d generally ignore me or call me names in the hope of starting a fight. Gypsies love to wrestle and box, and they tend to start at a young age.” Luke rolled his eyes. “So, I learnt to avoid other people as much as possible. We must be due another one soon – the last one was a couple of years ago.”
Then he changed the subject by suggesting they go to the newsagents to buy some sweets.
The next day Clara asked Luke about the Gypsy council. “Who’s on it?” she asked.
“There are twelve members plus a chairperson,” said Luke, his face screwing up as he tried to remember. “They’re made up of clan leaders and healers, or wise men and women. They’re nominated by members of the clans in a sort of election, and then, if there is more than one person put forward for a seat, the council votes to decide which one is elected to council. Once on the council you can only be removed if you die, voluntarily retire or are forced to step down by a unanimous council vote – which never happens. Spots on the council only tend to come up when one of the existing members die.”
“Interesting,” Clara said. “And what are they responsible for?”
“For any changes to the Gypsy Code and enforcing the code. They’re also often used to settle disputes between clans – usually arguments about money, assets or marriages,” replied Luke.
“Is Grams on the council?” asked Clara.
Luke chortled. “No! Grams always said she was too smart to sit on the council and graciously declined when she was offered a spot.”
“Hmm,” said Clara.
The two silently finished off the picnic that Clara had brought. Anything they didn’t want, they lobbed over to Bob who swallowed the morsels with hardly a chew. As Clara was clearing up the remnants of the picnic, Bob growled, his hackles rising.
Suddenly alert, Clara and Luke peered into the trees to see if they could see what had alarmed the dog. Clara opened her special hearing senses, her eyesight and her sense of smell. She also opened her mind to see if Bob’s concern was about another animal. She could sense no animals nearby. A concern in itself, as there were usually several animals and birds nearby at all times.
Clara couldn’t see anything suspicious, even with her enhanced eyesight. She heard some twigs cracking, but thought that could be caused by the wind blowing through the trees. But she did pick up a strange scent. That must’ve been what made Bob growl, she thought. The scent was fading rapidly, though, as if whatever had made it was already gone. Clara instructed Bob to investigate, and the mongrel took off into the trees like a flash.
“What is it?” asked Luke.
“Probably nothing,” said Clara, slightly distractedly as she mentally followed Bob’s progress through the trees.
“Clara,” Luke said, grabbing her by the arm to get her full attention.
“Erm...” said Clara, then she looked into Luke’s eyes, which were full of concern. “Whatever it was has long gone,” she said. “I’ve just asked Bob to track it and let me know what he finds.”
Luke frowned and glared back into the trees. The whispering of the wind soughing through the leaves suddenly sounded ominous.
“Maybe I should get back to the camp,” he murmured.
Clara’s heart was still thumping wildly. “That’s probably a good idea,” she agreed. The two walked quickly down the hill and back to the Gypsy camp, sending frequent furtive glances over their shoulders as they went.
By the time they arrived, Bob had sent Clara the message that he’d lost the scent trail along the road on Clara’s estate. Clara relayed this message to Luke.
“It was probably just someone out walking,” said Clara. “Nothing to worry about.”
Luke took a deep breath. “You’re right,” he said. “We’re just being paranoid.” And he grinned weakly.
“Yeah, paranoid,” replied Clara. She walked Luke right up to the edge of the campsite before saying goodbye and heading home. Despite their agreement that they were being oversensitive, Clara felt as if every tree on the way home had sprung a pair of spying eyes. She shivered and broke into a run, not relaxing until she was inside her home, the door firmly shut behind her.
***
The next day, they laughed off the incident, which – after a good night’s sleep – seemed ridiculous. Clara, having relaxed her morning surveillance routine over recent days, had been out that morning in dog form, and completed a thorough sweep of the area around the camp to assure herself there were no strange people hanging about. The strange scent from the day before had completely disappeared.
The pair spent the next few days enjoying the mild dry weather and each other’s company. The more time that passed, the more relaxed they became.
One day, Clara was waiting for Luke at their clearing when she spotted him jogging from the camp towards the woodland. Not long after, she heard him chuffing up the hill. When he arrived, he looked grave.
“One of the clan is missing,” he said without preamble.
Clara’s eyes widened. “Who?” she asked.
“Riley,” replied Luke. “He went out with Chris on an information-gathering mission. Chris says they split up to follow different members of Uncle Simon’s clan. They were supposed to come back the day before yesterday, but Chris came back alone.” Luke didn’t need to say that Des and Grams were worried something had happened to Riley. “I have to get back,” Luke went on, “to find out what Dad’s going to do.”
“Of course,” said Clara and she watched as Luke jogged back down the hill.
Clara sat down on the hard ground and hugged her knees. Try as she might, she could not come up with a plan that might help Luke and his family find Riley. She could only hope he was all right and would eventually find his way home.
***
Luke jogged back to the camp, his mind in turmoil.
Where is Riley? What could’ve happened to him? Has he been captured? Or is he still following the man he was assigned to? How are we going to find him?
As he reached his caravan he bumped into his dad, who was just leaving it. “Dad! What’s going on?” he asked.
“Meeting at Grams,” Des replied, pushing past Luke.
“Can I come?” asked Luke.
“No,” Des replied. “Get inside and stay there until I come back.”
“But...” stammered Luke, but the words died on his tongue as his dad glared at him. Luke dropped his eyes to the ground, turned slowly and stepped up into the caravan. Inside, he was too anxious to sit. He wanted to do something, or at least find out what was happening at Grams’. He paced backwards and forwards, his anxiety turning to anger. I’m fifteen now – an adult in Gypsy culture, I should be at that meeting. I’m sure I could help if they’d let me. He grunted in frustration and sent a dark look in the direction of Grams’ caravan. Then he sighed and collapsed onto a bench seat. There’s no way I can sneak my way in. I’ll just have to wait for Dad to come back.
It was dark when Des returned. He was a little startled to find Luke sitting silently in the gloom, waiting for him.
“What’s wrong with you, lad?” Des asked. “Have you put something on for dinner?” Seeing that he hadn’t, Des tutted and moved to the kitchen.
“What’s the plan to find Riley?” Luke asked.
Des frowned as he peered into the fridge. It was a few moments before he replied. “We’ve decided to send three of the guys out to look for Riley and bring back news.”
“That’s it?” asked Luke. “That’s all we’re doing?”
“That’s all we can do!” Des barked. “We don’t have the manpower to do more.” He gave Luke a significant look. Luke flushed. Because of me, he means, he thought. Because so many people are needed here to guard me. “I don’t need to be watched over all the time,” Luke said vehemently. “I’m not a child.”
“No, you’re not,” agreed Des. “So don’t behave like one. Here, peel these potatoes.” And Des turned his back on Luke to turn the oven on and season some pork chops. Luke clamped his lips shut and took his temper out on the potatoes. There wasn’t much left of them to cook by the time he’d finished. The pair spent the rest of the evening in silence. Des was preoccupied with Riley’s disappearance and Luke was trying to think of ways to prove to his dad that he could look after himself.
***
The next day, after completing her morning surveillance, Clara went to the campsite in search of Luke – and news. Luke hadn’t yet returned from working with his dad, so Clara went to Grams’ caravan instead.
“Hello, Clara,” said Grams, smiling warmly at Clara.
“Hi Grams,” replied Clara, noticing the black smudges under Grams’ eyes, and how weary she appeared generally. She clearly hadn’t had much sleep recently. “Any news?”
Grams shook her head slowly, “I’m afraid not.” She put a mug of tea in front of Clara and sat down opposite her with a heavy sigh. Clara wanted to ask what was being done to find Riley, but at the same time she didn’t want to upset Grams further by discussing what was clearly a distressing subject.
“I’ve noticed that you’ve been busy lately,” said Grams, her eyes twinkling.
“Me?” asked Clara innocently.
Grams nodded. “You usually see buzzards in pairs,” she said. “I’ve noticed a single buzzard flying round these parts, at more or less the same time each morning.”
“Oh,” said Clara. “Yes, that was me. I’ve been keeping an eye out.”
“Have you seen anything unusual?” asked Grams.
It was Clara’s turn to shake her head. “No,” she said. “Nothing at all.”
Grams sighed. “Well, maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe we are being paranoid, after all.”
“It doesn’t hurt to be careful, though, does it?” asked Clara.
“No, it doesn’t. Quite right, Clara,” replied Grams, gazing down into her mug. “I can’t shake the feeling that something’s coming, though.”
Clara was surprised at Grams’ openness. “How can you tell?” she asked.
“The signs,” replied Grams. “The tea leaves, the ashes, the feedback from our spies. I just can’t figure out what’s going on. Simon is being very careful. In fact, I suspect he’s deliberately blocking us.”
Clara looked at Grams in confusion.
“He has his own healer,” Grams explained. “Someone who knows the old magic. Someone who knows how to hide the truth. And that’s extremely worrying.”
Clara frowned. She didn’t know much about Gypsy magic, but she did know it could be tremendously powerful. The curse that had been placed on one of her ancestors had lasted for generations before Clara had managed to break it. Grams glanced over Clara’s shoulder, out of the caravan window.
“Luke’s back,” she said.
Clara thanked Grams for the tea and slid out of her seat, jumping out of the caravan door. Seeing her, Luke waved and said he’d be right with her, he just needed a quick wash. Clara sat on the steps of his caravan and waited for him to reappear. When he did, they went for a short walk across the scrubland, never losing sight of the camp, as Luke didn’t want to go too far and miss the arrival of any news.
“I’m surprised you went to work this morning,” started Clara. “What with everything that’s going on.”
“Yeah, Dad thought long and hard about it. But the people he’s working for give him contracts every time we come to this site. He has a good relationship with them and didn’t want to wreck it by leaving them in the lurch. He’s told them that when we finish our current refurb he’ll need to take some time off for a family emergency, and they’ve agreed to that. He’s gone back this afternoon and we should be finished by lunchtime tomorrow. As the leader of the clan, he can’t go looking for Riley himself; he needs to be here to hold the clan together. He’s sent a few of the men off to try and find out what’s happened to Riley, and we’re waiting to hear from them. He can’t send too many, though, otherwise the camp will be exposed.” Luke scratched his head as if in consideration of the difficulties his dad was having to manage.
Clara looked back towards the campsite and sighed. She was glad she wasn’t responsible for all these people, like Des was. Then Clara saw movement. A truck approaching. She tugged Luke’s sleeve and nodded in its direction. On seeing it Luke took off at a sprint, Clara not far behind him.