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Clara was convinced the appearance of the van in her street was somehow connected with the Gypsies and she would find the driver somewhere near the camp, but first she flew a wide sweep over the woodland to narrow down her search area. She was unable to pick up any traces of a human creeping around. She then went back to the start and tried again, this time looking for evidence of someone having left the main path and gone through the undergrowth. She still couldn’t find anything.
Hmm, she thought. Tricky customer, eh? I’ll find you eventually. I might need a bit of help, though. Clara landed on a tree at the hilltop. She was going to try something with her gift that she’d only done once before. It was a part of her abilities that she didn’t tend to use because she was worried about how it would affect the animals. It made her aware of their fragile little brains and she didn’t want to overload them. She thought that this situation was serious enough, though, that it was justifiable. She closed her eyes and called on all the animal life nearby to help her track a large human either passing through or hiding in the area. She felt the animals become alert to her thoughts, and she sensed they understood what she wanted.
Clara knew she was taking a risk. The last time she’d tried this was when Bob had been lost, and she’d asked the local wildlife to help her find him. On that occasion she’d been left so exhausted and drained by the exercise she’d been almost unable to move afterwards. However, time was of the essence, so she thought it was worth the risk. She suspected the stranger was nearby, and the animals would find him quickly or might already know where he was. She was right. Not long after she sent out the call, she received several responses from squirrels and birds who’d seen a shadowy figure walking slowly through the woodland then hiding behind a bush, some distance from the Gypsy camp. And that was where she found the man moments later.
Quickly, she realised he’d picked a spot downwind of the camp to prevent the Gypsies’ dogs from detecting him. As Clara flew silently a few feet above, she saw him looking at the camp through night vision binoculars, then writing something down, before raising the binoculars once more. Curious about what he was doing, Clara banked and flew over him again. This time she got a glimpse of the dim screen of an iPad. On it appeared to be a map of the camp showing the number and position of the caravans. Clara’s gut clenched. The map seemed to be practically complete. I could just swoop down and snatch the iPad away, thought Clara. But what if it doesn’t work? What if it’s too heavy for me, or he clings on to it? I’ll have lost the element of surprise and he might leg it.
She landed on the branch of a nearby tree and watched the man while she thought about what to do. While she watched, the man peered through the binoculars and added minor amendments to the drawing. Apparently satisfied that his work was complete he switched it off, stored the binoculars away and heaved himself stiffly to his feet. Clara followed him discreetly as he made his way back to the street. She perched on the roof of a house as the man climbed into the van. There was movement inside the van for a few minutes, then it fell silent and still. Clara continued to watch the van for another half an hour, but the man had apparently gone to sleep, and there was no further movement or sound.
Clara was troubled by what she’d seen. All those mornings I’ve been flying about the woods and scrubland, I completely missed what was going on here. What if this is the man’s last visit? What if he’s accomplished his mission? Clara knew she had to tell the Gypsies what was going on. They could then decide how to deal with it.
Clara flew back to the hilltop clearing, transformed into her human self and dressed in her emergency stash of clothes. They were a bit damp, but she put them on anyway and raced down the hill and into the camp. Clara went straight to Luke’s bedroom window, which was open to the warm summer air.
“Luke,” Clara whispered loudly. “Luke, are you awake?”
There was no sound from within. Clara peered down at the ground, looking for a pebble to throw, but the ground was covered in grass, with not a pebble to be seen. Clara sighed. Then she remembered that Luke had spoken to her with his thoughts, twice. Maybe it’ll work this time, she thought.
Luke, she thought in his direction. Luke, LUKE!
“Whaa?” she heard from inside the bedroom.
“Luke, it’s me – let me in,” whispered Clara urgently.
“Clara?” he said, then there was a shuffling as he slid out of bed and made his way to the door. Clara ran around the caravan and slipped through as it was opened.
“You need to wake your dad,” Clara said urgently. “No, don’t put the lights on, it’s too dangerous.”
Luke’s hand froze in mid-air. He nodded and disappeared into the other bedroom. Clara heard some grumbling coming from the room, which then stopped abruptly. Luke reappeared, Des close behind him, pulling on a T-shirt.
“Clara, what are you doing here so late?” asked Des in a low voice. “What’s going on?”
Clara told Luke and Des about the white van, and how she’d found the stranger in the bushes and what he’d been doing. Des and Luke listened intently. When Clara had finished, Luke swallowed and looked nervously at his dad. Des put a reassuring hand on Luke’s shoulder.
“Can you show me where the van is, Clara?” Des asked.
Clara nodded.
“Wait here a sec,” he said and disappeared out of the caravan door. A couple of minutes later he returned with two other Gypsies. “Okay, let’s go,” he said. Clara and Luke jumped down from the caravan and the small group trotted out of the camp. Clara led them by the shortest route to the alley beside her house and pointed to the van at the end of the street. Quickly, Des assessed the situation and instructed the other two Gypsies to go back down the alley and come out of the woods at the bottom of the street, next to the van. He wanted its number plate, and any other information they could glean without being discovered. He didn’t want them to be seen. Nodding in understanding, the two men disappeared. Clara and Luke stood in the alley behind Des, who was watching the van and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. A growth of stubble scritched when he rubbed it, sounding loud in the silence of the alley.
“Okay, let’s go,” said Des after about ten minutes of silent observation.
“What?” asked Luke in a loud whisper. “Aren’t we going to do something about the man in the van?”
“Ssh,” hissed Des. “Not here, Luke.” He grabbed Luke’s arm and pushed his son back towards the trees. They met up with the other two Gypsies in the woods and made their way silently back to the camp. When they got there, Clara was surprised to see Grams sitting on the steps of her caravan. Des, however, did not seem surprised, and he changed direction, moving the group to Grams’ caravan instead of his own. Once inside, Clara and Luke were instructed to close the curtains tightly. Grams lit a lamp, turned down low, so they could see each other. In the low light their faces seemed drawn and eerie. Grams, Luke and Clara sat at the table, while the men stood in the small kitchen space. Des told Grams an edited version of what Clara had told him – after all, the two men from the camp didn’t know about Clara’s abilities – then described the mission they’d just undertaken. The two men reported that the van had no markings on it. All they could say was it was ten years old and there’d been stickers on it at some point, but they’d been scraped off. They’d taken down the number plate of the van.
“It sounds like, whoever they are, they don’t want to be identified,” said Grams. “So, you’re going to let him go on his way and see what happens?” she asked Des.
“I’ll get a couple of our guys to follow him when he leaves,” said Des. “Maybe he’ll lead us to wherever they have Riley.”
The other two Gypsies bobbed their heads eagerly.
“What?” exclaimed Luke. “You’re just going to let him get away? Why don’t we take him now and question him? He could tell us where Riley is and then we can go and get him!” Des’s expression hardened, and he glared at Luke. Luke glared back. He was sick and tired of being the cause of the clan’s problems and he wanted things to go back to how they used to be. He was sure that capturing the spy would help. At least it was something he could get involved in, to help fix things.
“This is not open for debate,” Des said fiercely to Luke. Clara cringed at his dark expression. Then to Grams: “I’m going to make some calls tomorrow. I think we need to bulk up our numbers, so we can be ready for anything that might happen.”
Grams nodded. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything else we can do tonight, so why don’t we try and get another few hours of sleep? Tomorrow is going to be busy.”
Everyone started to make for the door. Outside the caravan, Des gave the two Gypsies some final instructions and sent them on their way. Then he turned to Luke and Clara. “You did well tonight, Clara – thank you,” he said.
Clara blushed. “No problem,” she said. “Any time.” And she looked fondly at Luke.
“Will you get home okay on your own?” Des asked, frowning.
“Yes, no problem,” replied Clara. “See ya.”
She trotted into the night, conscious of Luke and Des watching her as she faded into the darkness. True to her word, Clara went straight back to the hilltop clearing to return her clothes, transformed into an owl and flew straight home. She suddenly felt weary after all the excitement of the night, and she gratefully crept into bed and fell into a deep sleep.
***
Clara slept late the following morning and only woke when her brother thumped noisily up the stairs.
“Oh, there you are,” he said. “I didn’t think you were ever getting up.”
“It’s only half past ten,” said Clara, yawning as she came down for breakfast. “Anyway, why’re you here?”
Peter normally went to one of his friend’s houses during the holidays when their mum was at work, leaving Clara to her own devices.
“Sam’s gone away for a couple of days for a family wedding,” Peter replied, screwing up his nose in disgust.
Clara ate her breakfast quickly then pulled on her trainers. “I’m going out,” she said.
“Aw,” said Peter, “you’re always going out. Can I come?”
“No, you can’t,” said Clara. “I’ll see you later.”
She went out the back door and down the path. She went straight to the Gypsy camp, to seek out Luke and find out what was happening.
When the camp came into sight, Clara could see it was bustling. People were busy at all sorts of chores. A couple of groups jumped into trucks and roared off across the scrubland.
When she neared the site a voice called out to her from behind a bush. “Halt, who goes there?”
Clara stopped, startled. She recognised the voice as David, one of the teenagers from the camp. “It’s me,” she said. “Clara.”
David appeared over the top of the bush and he screwed his face up, as if considering whether to allow her to pass. “Proceed,” he said, and disappeared behind the bush once more. Bemused, Clara went on her way.
Luke had seen Clara coming and was waiting for her at the edge of camp. He looked tired and anxious, but he smiled in welcome and handed her a mug of hot tea. They sat on a bench and watched the goings-on for a while. Luke explained his dad had held a camp meeting first thing, and the Gypsies were all busy working on defensive strategies. They were laying traps and tripwires around the camp to confuse and slow down the unwary, that would sound an alarm if the camp was attacked.
“Nothing too obvious,” he said. “’Cause we want the element of surprise. Something which the attackers think they’ll have.” He grinned at Clara.
“Why don’t you just move on?” asked Clara anxiously. “Go somewhere where they can’t find you?”
Luke shook his head. “Dad thought about that, but he said he’d rather stand and fight than spend his days looking over his shoulder all the time.”
Clara sighed. She could understand Des’s decision, but she got a knot in her stomach every time she thought about her Gypsy friends coming under attack and possibly getting hurt.
“Don’t worry,” Luke said, gently knocking his shoulder against Clara’s. “We can take care of ourselves.”