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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE ROBBERS

The harpies flew so fast through the gump that Ernie Hobbs mistook them for out-of-date turkeys and would’ve tried to eat them were it not for Mrs Partridge pulling him back so they could slide through the wall and hide. The last thing the ghosts wanted was an encounter with Mrs Smith.

Unfortunately, being in a wall, the ghostly pair didn’t see where it was the harpies were going, and of course they instantly worried about Lina and Odge. And they were right to be worried, because that’s exactly why the harpies had come to London. The rock monsters had been gossiping again and had revealed that the human girl and Odge Gribble had made their way through the gump with the last of the rebels. While all the others believed Odge had given up, Mrs Smith knew better. Believing Odge was headed to London to recruit enough magical creatures to storm back through the gump, she had decided it was time to stop Odge’s meddling, once and for all.

The harpies stuck to the roof of King’s Cross station, briefly flying outside before swooping into another part of the building that had a sign above it reading St Pancras International.

Mrs Smith, Miss Witherspoon, Miss Green and Miss Brown all bowed their heads in respect, mistaking the sign to be a tribute to Saint Pancreas, the international saint of eating pancreases and other body parts – a harpy favourite.

Below the arched glass ceiling, baked goods, chocolates and colourful sweets spilt across tables in shops like delicious jewels. There were clothes shops and gift shops and, in the middle of it all, a woman screamed.

‘IT STOLE MY COAT!’ she cried over and over again. ‘THE BIG BIRD WITH THE HUMAN FACE STOLE MY COAT!’

It wasn’t long before a shop worker telephoned the police, mistaking her for a madwoman. That’s the problem when a harpy steals your coat – there is absolutely no way of informing people without them deeming you insane.

Mrs Smith had plumped for the woman in the fancy coat, leaving the other three to steal the raincoats from three men, who were instantly taken more seriously when they shouted about half-birds with human faces.

Talons can make quick work of unravelling a human from their coat, and so they were at the other end of the station before the humans realized they were gone. No one stopped to question why the woman in the expensive coat was walking so strangely – with an impossible curve of the spine as if she were nothing but a head, neck and sack of flesh, wobbling under a coat.

They stumbled into a coffee shop and waited in line. They had no intention of getting coffee. When they got to the front of the queue, Mrs Smith barked, ‘HAVE YOU SEEN A HAG AND A LITTLE GIRL?’

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The man almost laughed, which was a mistake. Mrs Smith had no time for jokers. She poked a talon out of the coat, startling the man.

‘A HAG,’ she repeated again, slowly so he could understand. ‘AND A GIRL.’

‘With all due respect, so many people pass through this station every day. I can only tell you for certain, I have never seen a hag.’

Mrs Smith narrowed her eyes. ‘She looks quite human. Blue boots. She arrived at platform thirteen at King’s Cross.’

‘This is a different station,’ the man explained. ‘And I don’t think anyone uses platform thirteen these days – do they, Kevin?’ He turned to look at his colleague, but when he looked back the strange old woman had gone.

Ernie Hobbs and Mrs Partridge were discussing the harpies back on platform thirteen.

‘No, Ernie – Miss Jones wasn’t with them just now,’ Mrs Partridge insisted. ‘She’s the one with the big hats, remember? The harpy who, last time the gump opened, asked to borrow some suitcases for little furry pets she had, or something like that. She’d got the idea from somewhere that they liked sleeping in them – you remember her!’

‘Was she the one who smelt of rotten intestines?’

Mrs Partridge tutted. ‘They all do, Ernie.’

Ernie was about to ask Mrs Partridge what she thought the harpies were doing in London when Mrs Smith landed with a thud in front of them.

‘Where’s Odge and the human girl?’ she seethed.

Ernie Hobbs was no good at lying, and so Mrs Partridge had given him one of her looks. He knew it meant, Say nothing, or there will be hell to pay.

‘We haven’t seen them,’ Mrs Partridge said firmly. Being dead already, she wasn’t afraid of Mrs Smith.

Mrs Smith swayed in her coat, turning so red and getting so furious, she could barely spit the words out.

‘Oh, actually,’ Ernie Hobbs said, making Mrs Partridge visibly wince, ‘I do remember where they went, Mrs Smith.’

‘Where?’ she demanded, curling a talon under his squidgy ghost chin. Even though he knew it couldn’t hurt him, he recoiled.

‘Borough Market,’ he said joyfully, the thrill of deceiving them all too obvious in his voice. ‘THEY WENT TO BOROUGH MARKET!’

‘I’ll get you a cab,’ Mrs Partridge said with a smirk.

And so the ghosts got back to work, delighted the harpies had been distracted and deceived. The only problem was that Plomtee was swimming his way back to Lina and Odge with a location for Aunt Maureen and, though Ernie Hobbs couldn’t have possibly known it, he had just made a terrible, terrible mistake.