Another piece of the jigsaw had fit into place, but there were still so many missing. In search of another, after breakfast Annie left Mr. Fairbrother to clear snow from the back courtyard and headed out to Undercastle.
The forest was beautiful and pristine with its fresh blanket of snow. Annie took a deep breath, feeling the cool air in her lungs, marvelling at the vastness of the nature around her. A bird darted through the trees, startling her, and reindeer tracks crisscrossed the path.
But were they really the tracks of the reindeer? Could one set be the tracks of a girl, slipping from the house back into the forest?
Mr. Fairbrother’s revelation about Isabella had only raised more questions. Mrs. Growell, who had apparently acted as the girl’s de facto mother, probably had more of the answers, but getting them out of her would be like chipping fossils out of ancient rock. Maybe … with enough time.
In the meantime, though, Annie’s grandfather’s secrets would be more easily yielded … with the right tools.
In the village, Annie headed to the Wonder Toy Studios and asked for Dave Wilson.
‘Davvy Sprinkle-Toes at your service,’ Dave said, giving Annie a flourishing bow. ‘Lovely to see you again so soon. What can I help you with?’
Annie frowned. ‘I’m looking for some kind of tool. I need to break into my grandfather’s suite.’
‘And you don’t have a key?’
‘It appears both the original and several spares have gone missing.’
‘That’s too bad.’ With a grin, Dave opened a drawer behind the counter and lifted up a heavy object. ‘May I suggest a hammer?’
‘I was thinking of something more subtle. You know, to pick the lock? You guys are specialists, aren’t you? You must have something I can use … or at least be able to make something.’
Dave grinned. ‘I’m sure we can come up with something. Give us half an hour. In the meantime, why don’t you take a wander, get some coffee or something?’
‘Sure.’
Annie left Dave to his work and wandered up the street. She hoped to stop in and see Diane, whom she’d taken a liking for, but the pancake house was closed with a sign on the window saying OUT TO (A VERY LARGE) LUNCH.
A little further along was Frank’s Fudge, which she’d not yet visited. As she pushed through the door, a little tinkle of Christmas music sounded and a delicious sugary smell wafted out.
‘Well, hello,’ came a voice from a kitchen behind the counter, and a moment later a middle-aged man with a kind smile appeared, wiped his hands on a towel, and leaned on the counter. ‘Miss Collins, it’s lovely to have your business. Everything is on the house for you, of course.’
Annie smiled. ‘Literally charged to the house account?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then I’ll have a large fudge sundae with extra whipped cream. Actually, can I have two, and can you put them in boxes for me to take back? They’re for Mrs. Growell and Mr. Fairbrother. Actually, I’ve got a couple of places where I want to stop and say hello, so could you have someone run them up to the hall for me?’
‘Got a young lad who helps me out. Sure he wouldn’t mind,’ Frank said. ‘And for yourself?’
‘I’ll have a solitary cube of low fat, low cholesterol, zero sugar, plain fudge, please.’
‘So … an empty plate?’
‘Sod it. Give me a fat chunk of whatever it is you’re cooking. And do you do coffee?’
‘Of course.’
‘And a large one of those, please.’
‘Coming right up.’
As Frank got to work, Annie smiled again. ‘By the way, why are you wearing a Christmas hat?’
Frank chuckled. ‘Well, I heard that thanks to your graceful kindness, we’re finally going to get some customers. You know, I’ve been living here ten years, getting paid a stupid amount of money, and all I’ve ever done is package my fudge up in boxes and watch it loaded into the backs of lorries. I’m sure there are people all over the country enjoying it, but I don’t get to see it. And there’s nothing better than fresh fudge. As soon as you package it up, the flavour starts to fade. What made you decide to overrule your grandfather’s law and open the village at long last?’
Annie shrugged. ‘I’ve never been in charge of anything before,’ she said. ‘I work in a rubbish bank job where I get verbally—and occasionally physically—abused by customers who can’t get loans or mortgages or overdrafts, and the main word in my vocabulary is “no”. No to this, no to that. No, no, no. And then I come here, and I get told I’m in charge of everything. And look at this place. Who wouldn’t want everyone to visit it? It’s just lovely. I didn’t know my grandfather at all, but I’m starting to think he was crazy.’
Frank gave a nervous chuckle. ‘He was certainly unique. You know, we all miss the old guy because he was friendly enough, but we’re craftsmen, artisans. I’ve spent twenty years perfecting fudge recipes, and I left a successful business in Edinburgh to come here, on the promise that I was moving to a bustling tourist village where thousands of people would get to enjoy my fudge. So … when do we finally open?’
Annie smiled. ‘On Saturday.’ She couldn’t help but giggle as she remembered a meeting with the station master yesterday. Diane, introducing them, had referred to the rotund man in the black top hat as Bill, but he had introduced himself to Annie as Willy Whistle, Station Master. ‘Um … Mr. Whistle said the Undercastle Line has been checked and cleared to resume service, so the first load of tourists should be arriving in the afternoon. Will you be ready?’
Frank spread his arms and looked behind him at a glass display case filled with delicious fudge. ‘I’m ready now,’ he said. Then, picking up a plate overloaded with chunks of freshly baked fudge in a rainbow of different colours, he handed it to Annie and said, ‘However, fudge is best when it’s fresh, so let’s not go wasting any. You get stuck in, and I’ll bring your coffee in a sec.’
Annie stared at the fudge, her nose going crazy with the aromas of chocolate, marshmallow, caramel, cinnamon and others she couldn’t place. She looked up at Frank and grinned.
‘I think I’m going to pass out,’ she said. ‘But I’ll see how much I can eat first.’
Half an hour later, feeling a couple of pounds heavier but several degrees happier, Annie staggered back to the Wonder Toy Studios, absently wondering whether Undercastle had a dentist, and if not, whether she should see if they could hire one. It might prove necessary for anyone staying longer than a couple of days.
Dave was waiting for her behind the reception desk. As Annie came in, he looked up and smiled.
‘Ah, there you are. Did you survive?’
Annie patted her stomach. ‘Just about. I think I’ll need to take the scenic route back if I want to have any space left for dinner.’
Dave chuckled. ‘The one via Scotland?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Well, if you do make it back, this should help.’ With a triumphant grin, Dave reached under the counter and lifted up a small pine box, the wood washed with blue paint. Holding it out to Annie, he slid a cover out of grooves in the top to reveal a gold key sitting on a bed of diced pine cones. Despite the lavish packaging, the key was large and chunky, far too big to open any of the locks in Stone Spire Hall, not least the one on her grandfather’s door, which was much smaller.
‘Ah … that’s wonderful, but I’m not sure—’
‘This,’ Dave said, ‘is a magic key. Capable of opening any lock, anywhere.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Trust me.’
‘Well, what about this cabinet? That takes a key.’
Dave shook his head. ‘This key only opens doors.’
‘You said it opens everything.’
Dave gave a sheepish grin. ‘Well, that’s the blurb on the packet, isn’t it?’
‘So it won’t open my grandfather’s door?’
‘Oh, it definitely will.’
‘But what if it doesn’t?’
Dave spread his hands. ‘Look, here’s my promise. If it doesn’t open that door, come right back here, and I’ll give you a refund.’
‘I didn’t pay anything!’
‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Look, if it really doesn’t work, I’ll buy you a fudge lunch. As much fudge as you can eat, and as much coffee as you can drink.’
‘Do I get whipped cream?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’d still prefer it if this key worked.’
‘Just trust me.’
Annie wasn’t sure whether Dave was pranking her or not, but even so, the key looked nice. If it didn’t have any function at all, it would still make a nice Christmas present for someone.
After wandering around the village for a little while longer, meeting a few more local people and ducking into a few of the quaint shops which sold everything from homemade hats to garden ornaments, she headed back to Stone Spire Hall, determined to finally get some answers.
Evening was already approaching, the sun low in the sky, leaving patches of snow that hadn’t melted away glittering with orange and yellow, with the lake in the distance brightest of all. Annie was almost relieved by the shadows under the trees as she followed the forest path back towards the house. Much of the snow here still remained, and she passed several lines of animal tracks most likely belonging to the reindeer. She glanced nervously into the trees, wondering if the animals would come to inspect her again, promising herself not to panic if they did.
Then, not far from the house, a line of tracks crossed the path that were too large for reindeer.
Annie stopped. Too small for Mr. Fairbrother’s boots, they were nevertheless clearly belonging to shoes of some kind. Narrow at the front, with the heels leaving flattened circles, Annie imagined Cinderella fleeing from the ball in glass slippers, only this time it had been snowing and she had managed not to lose one.
The line of tracks led into the trees. With barely a hesitation, Annie stepped off the path and began to follow.