CHAPTER THIRTY

“Are you sure?” Pym asked, surprised.

“Yes.” Ingrid nodded. “He confessed to the rest but not to the fire. He didn’t do it.”

“And if he had, he would have admitted it.” Kip chuckled. “He was so scared; I thought he was going to wet himself.”

“That’s funny,” said Ingrid, “because someone was sitting next to me making funny, squeaking noises and digging his fingernails into my arm.”

“I just didn’t want you to feel bad if you were scared,” said Kip breezily. “It was very realistic, you know, so I could understand that you might be fooled.”

“So I guess the fire must have been an accident, after all,” I said slowly. “I really thought Lucas had done it all, but he was just taking advantage of the fire and all the talk of the curse to get people to drop out of the play.”

“But that’s good news,” said Pym after a pause. “You still got the saboteur. I could hear lots of shrieking through the door but I just told people that a rehearsal was taking place.”

“It was BRILLIANT,” Kip said, solemnly.

“How did you do it?” Ingrid asked, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I don’t blame Lucas for being scared – it was incredibly believable.”

Marvin appeared from the side of the stage. “It’s called Pepper’s Ghost.” He grinned.

“Of course,” breathed Ingrid. “Genius!”

“Pepper’s Ghost?” asked Kip.

“A trick named after John Henry Pepper,” said Ingrid. “He famously performed it in 1862.”

“But how does it work?” Kip sounded intrigued.

Marvin walked further forward on to the stage and then, suddenly stopping, reached out and tapped on something. Only then, looking really closely, could you see that there was actually a big sheet of glass on the stage set at an odd angle.

“It works just like a mirror,” Marvin continued, smiling down at his captive audience. “Here in the wings we dress up an actor as a ghost and shine a light on him so that he—”

“Or she!” a voice interrupted from the wings. “Ghosts can be girls too!”

“Very right, very right. So that he or she will appear to glow. The actor is reflected in the glass, and when the glass is moved around at an angle, then the reflection is seen by the audience. Only because the glass is see-through and invisible from down there, a transparent glowing ghost appears to be standing in the middle of the stage!”

Fanella and Boris bustled out in their costumes. “It is us all along,” Fanella cried jubilantly. “We trick everyone! And I was so scary!”

“Not as scary as me,” muttered Boris.

“WHAT IS THAT YOU ARE SAYING?” Fanella turned on him.

“You were both very scary,” I said. “It was brilliant. And we might have been wrong about the fire, but we did catch the saboteur, so that’s the main thing, I suppose.”

At that moment Ingrid’s parents stuck their heads around the door. “Ah, Ingrid, there you are,” said her dad. “There’s time for a quick tea break before we go back to the hotel to get ready for the big Halloween party this evening. Are you coming?”

“Tea?” Kip’s head whipped around. “Is there cake?”

Mr Blammel looked surprised. “Um, I think there were some biscuits,” he said.

“Biscuits?!” Kip wrinkled his nose. “Well, I suppose that will have to do, but come on, everyone, let’s hustle or all the chocolate ones will be gone,” and he tore out towards the dining hall, quickly followed by the others.

I hung back with Pym. “Now, Poppy,” she said, “there’s something else going on with you, isn’t there? Something’s wrong. Do you want to talk to me about it?”

This was the moment I had been waiting for, and I knew it was time to ask the questions that felt like they were taking up more and more room in my brain every day. My stomach did an impressive somersault. “Er, yes. I think so. Yes,” I stuttered.

Pym smiled at me expectantly. My heart was skittering like a hyperactive kangaroo and I reached for the right words.

Then I reached for any words.

“Well, the thing is,” I began, rubbing my sweating palms on my school skirt, “the thing, well . . . the thing is. . .”

“Yes, love,” said Pym. “What is the thing?”

“It’s about Parents’ Weekend,” I blurted. Pym’s smile dimmed a little, but she nodded encouragingly. “I suppose it made me think about my parents,” I continued. “My real parents, I mean. Not that you’re not my real parent, Pym!” I gasped. I was doing this all wrong. It was like my brain and my mouth weren’t connected.

My brain was yelling. Say something! Tell Pym you love her and you’re scared and you don’t want to hurt her feelings, but you need some answers. Did your parents really not want you? Why? What’s wrong with you? Why did they leave you behind?

My mouth said, “I – I. . . The. . . I mean, my. . . What I. . .”

Then my brain said, Nice one, Poppy. Great job! (My brain can be a bit sarcastic when it wants to be.)

Pym squeezed my hand gently. “You want to know more about your birth parents?” she asked, smiling a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. I nodded gratefully. “Well,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t know very much, but I do have—”

But I didn’t find out what Pym was going to say just then because we were interrupted by Letty blasting through the doors. “There you are, Poppy!” she yelped. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. We’ve got to get ready for the Halloween party . . . you know getting into my costume is a three-person job.” She trailed off as she caught sight of our faces. “Sorry! Am I interrupting?”

“No, no!” I exclaimed brightly. “We were just. . . I mean. . .”

“Poppy and I can finish this conversation later.” Pym squeezed my hand again and I returned the squeeze, gratefully. “I think I have something that may help,” she whispered in my ear. “I’ll give it to you tomorrow morning. Meet me at the tent, early.” Then she turned to face Letty. “Now you two run along, I want to see you looking really gruesome!”