CHAPTER 2
"I don't want to go home," James told Rodney. "That Derek's always there these days."
They were sitting in the tree house in Rodney's garden. It was a Saturday morning early in November. The tree house wasn't very warm, but it was a refuge from grown-ups.
Rodney thought about this, tracing a knot in the wood with his finger. "What's your sister say about it?" he enquired through his chewing gum.
"Mandy's a girl," said James.
"I know that. So?"
"Women stick together," said James, sounding like an expert on the subject. "Anyway, I'm not so sure that she doesn't like the creep!"
"I can't really say much about him, I've only seen him once," Rodney told his knothole. "Will he be there now?"
"Of course. Why d'you think I'm here?"
Rodney ignored the apparent insult. Curiosity got the better of him. "I want to see him properly. Come on, we'll tell my Mum we're going to your place."
James wasn't used to being ordered about by boys his own age, but he found himself doing what Rodney wanted. He felt it would be a good idea to get a second opinion from someone who wasn't a girl.
The boys went round James's cottage to the back door, which was unlocked as usual. There in the kitchen was Derek, leaning back in one of the kitchen chairs, arms folded, long legs outstretched. He was smiling faintly, watching Anita preparing a steak and kidney pudding.
He saw the boys first, and fixed Rodney with a bright pale stare. "Who's this, Jim?" he enquired. "Have you found a friend - oh, of course, I saw you two together last week."
James gave him his usual glare. "His name's Rodney," he replied sulkily. "Lives in this road. Wanted to meet you."
Derek, ignoring James's tone of voice (he was getting used to it) looked expectantly at Rodney.
"James!" snapped his mother, "Be polite to Derek! Speak up properly!"
Rodney saved the moment by solemnly shaking hands with Derek and saying "Pleased to meet you."
Anita, mollified by Rodney's politeness, gave the boys a cup of hot chocolate and a home made mince pie each. The mince pies were delicious. Rodney made polite conversation; James just ate and drank.
When they had finished, James and Rodney left the kitchen and took themselves off to The Hideout.
"This is better than the tree-house," said Rodney.
James loaded a whodunit game on to his computer, and for a while they were both absorbed.
Then, "What do you think of him?" asked James.
Rodney didn't need to ask who 'he' might be.
"Strange person. I'd say there's more to him than meets the eye. He seems to look right through you."
"I think he's a crook of some kind. I'm sure Mum's going to be in trouble with him. She won't listen to me. But how could she replace Dad with that?"
Rodney had never met a crook, and said so.
"Neither have I, not until now, anyway," admitted James. "But I'm sure he's not what he seems - that's what you said, isn't it? I wish I could prove it!"
"Perhaps he will turn out to be the murderer in this game," remarked Rodney.
But he wasn't. James was. He had played the butler.
Monday morning came and another local history lesson.
"Today," said Mr Wilson the history teacher, "we are going to the local church. In any village, the church has always been the centre and this is where you will find out a great deal about the history of the place. The vicar has agreed to meet us there."
"This'll be boring," whispered Rodney to James.
"Stop talking at the back there!" said Mr Wilson crossly. So they did, not wanting any more detention. The teacher handed each child a duplicated questionnaire for them to fill in, and told them to take a notebook and pencil.
A straggling crocodile trudged down Abbey Road to the Church of St Nicholas of Ravenshurst, which happened to be not far past the entrance to the lane where James and Rodney lived. There was an east wind blowing and the children stamped their feet to keep warm.
The church was a large Norman building, with a tower, standing on a slight hill. Next to it was a half-timbered cottage. James and Rodney looked over the garden fence. There was a well in the cottage's front garden. James remembered his sister's ghost story and it made him feel quite shivery - a pleasant spooky shiver. This was worth investigating. He was about to tell Rodney about it when Mr Wilson called them back.
"You two! I won't tell you again! Come here!"
It was chilly inside the church, and the weak winter sun only just trickled through the dark Victorian stained glass windows, which showed variations on the theme of Jesus with children and as the Good Shepherd. The vicar was waiting for them, and he led them on the tour.
They were not as bored as they had expected. The tombs fascinated them, especially the one with rows of children praying behind their parents, going down in "steps and stairs" as Rodney pointed out. Beneath their feet were shown two babies swathed like papooses.
"What's that all about?" James asked the vicar.
"They're called chrisoms and they are babies who died very young, just after being christened," the vicar told them. "Look on this list, and you will see they were both called Thomas. Then finally the parents managed to have a Thomas who survived!"
"They must have really wanted a Thomas," said James. "You'd have thought they would have felt that Thomas was an unlucky name, after two dud attempts!"
The vicar wasn't sure about luck, but decided not to say anything. He led the school party down the north aisle to the chapel at the end, after stopping two of the more wicked boys from trying to pick the lock of a medieval wooden chest, out of sight of their teacher.
"This is the really interesting part of the church," he said. "Here we have our little mystery."
The chapel was behind a wooden screen and the school party filled it. It was not so dark as the rest of the building, because there was a plain glass window to the side. Over the altar was a stained glass window, quite different to the dark Victorian ones in the body of the church.
"This window," said the vicar, "has only just been put back. We had a restoration programme last year -"
"What's that mean?" asked a particularly dull-looking girl.
The vicar ignored her and went on, "and the old glass from this window was found in a box buried in the wall. This chapel belonged to the Abbot of Ravenshurst and he is supposed to have a secret, something to do with treasure, people said at the time. He is supposed to have left clues to his secret in this chapel."
"Ooh," gasped Class 1B all together.
"If you look round, you can see that there are the remains of paintings on the walls. He is supposed to have had them put there, as well. If you can work out what they mean, you are cleverer than the experts who uncovered them underneath the whitewash last year."
Everyone stared around them, as much as they could, being somewhat crammed in.
"Doesn't mean much to me, does it to you?" James asked Rodney.
Rodney shook his head. "The window's pretty, though. Like some kind of Christmas card."
The window showed a woman dressed in white, holding a baby. Behind her grew some rather unlikely looking trees, and in the window tracery were various buildings and a lot of Latin words written in gold on white scrolls.
"The Madonna," said the history teacher.
"Yes," said the vicar. "It's called Our Ladye of Ravenshurst. Abbot William was a devotee of hers. He was very interested in ancient history and he was wealthy. He wrote a book, which is kept in the Cathedral Library at Elchester - I've read the translation."
"What does it say?" asked Rodney.
"Nothing really understandable. It does say "I builded a chapel in ye Church of St Nicholas atte Ravenshurste, wherein is hidde ye secret of life and light eternal."
"What does that mean?"
"I think it was to do with spiritual life and what he thought the Virgin would do for him. But I expect that's where the legend of treasure came from."
"Oh." Rodney had hoped it had meant more than that. So had James. However, James did not give up hope. Here was something else worth investigating.
"What about the local ghost?" he enquired, remembering his sister's story.
Mr Wilson looked annoyed, but the vicar was not upset.
"Oh, the death-dealing monk? I've been told that one many times, but I don't think there's any truth in it. There's nothing in the old records and I think it's just one of those stories which get around in places like this where people have lived for a long time and told stories round the fire in winter. Abbeys always seem to produce at least one ghostly monk!"
James made notes and sketched the window in his notebook for future reference. He also decided to try and find out more about Abbot William. If there was treasure, and he could find it, he and his family would be rich - although that would give Derek a motive for marrying his mother for her money. Rodney pointed this out later when he confided to him what was on his mind.
Before the party left the church, James spoke to the vicar.
"I am really interested in Abbot William's story," he told him. "Please can I come back another day to look at the paintings properly?"
"Of course," said the vicar, pleased to have made an impression on at least one child. "Just knock at the Rectory and I will come and put the lights on for you." He thought for a moment, and then added, "I think I may be able to find you some books on the Abbey and Abbot William, if you would like. Of course, you can always go to the Library and borrow books on local history if you're interested."
James told his mother he wanted to join the Library. She was surprised that he was showing an interest in such things, but after school the next day she took him along and the necessary forms were filled in.
"You will get your ticket tomorrow," said the librarian.
"What I really want to borrow is books on local history," James told her solemnly.
"You're new here, aren't you," the librarian said, pushing her glasses up on her nose to look at him. "It's nice to see newcomers showing interest." She smiled at his mother as if it was nice to see her taking interest, too.
"Yes," said Anita. So James was serious about local history then? Back at home she asked him why. Derek was not there that evening, so James felt happier about telling his mother some of the story they had heard from the vicar. "Wouldn't it be good if we found the treasure, Mum?"
Mandy said it was all rather frightening - remember the ghost?
Their mother was not so sure. "I don't want you roaming around the countryside in the dark," she said. "I hope you will just keep to your books. No going down holes or into crypts, please!"
James and Rodney shared a bunsen burner in science class the next day. While they carried out the experiment they were given, James told Rodney he would be getting his library ticket that night.
"Then maybe we can try to find out more about Abbot William and the treasure," he said.
"Do you really think there's something in it?" Rodney asked, not concentrating on the amount of sulphur he was supposed to be putting in the test tube.
"What's going on here?"
A loud voice behind them made them jump. Rodney dropped his measure of sulphur on the bench. It was Mr Bates, the science master.
"No talking in class, except about work! Did I hear some nonsense about 'treasure'? Don't tell me you are getting mixed up in that local folklore! It's not scientific and I will not have people from my class involved in rubbish like that. Is that clear?"
He was definitely not a person to be crossed. His eyes looked very menacing.
"Yes, sir," said James and Rodney together, hoping it wouldn't be detention again.
"Right then," said Mr Bates, and thankfully left it at that.
"We don't have to listen to him," said James when the class was over. "He can't tell us what to do in our spare time."
Rodney wasn't so sure, but the whole thing was too interesting to let it be spoiled by one tetchy schoolteacher.
They both went down to the library after school. The librarian had James's ticket ready and she had some helpful suggestions to make about what books he should borrow.
"Unfortunately the one about the Abbey itself is out at the moment," she told them, "but I will reserve it for you when it comes back."
They left after about half an hour with two books, a reprint of "A Victorian Gentleman's Travels in Stoweshire" and a book on local archaeology - a word which they couldn't pronounce, let alone spell.
"It's the science of digging things up," said the librarian helpfully.
Rodney and James understood about digging things up. They hoped they would soon be digging up treasure, but didn't tell her so.
"Come in to my place for tea," said James. "We can take the books to The Hideout. If Mandy's there, she won't mind."
They walked back through the little town. The shops were beginning to get out their Christmas displays and it all looked very attractive. They lingered round the sweet shop, going in at the last minute before closing to get Rodney some more chewing gum.
"We will have to think of what to get our families for Christmas, you know," said Rodney.
"Don't expect me to get Derek anything!" James was disgusted by the thought. He had not thought of what would happen at Christmas until that moment, and was not happy with the idea of Derek being around - maybe playing Santa Claus - how dreadful!
He was still feeling peeved about this prospect when they got to his house. They went in the back door - and there was the usual scene. Derek sprawled in what seemed to have become his chair, quite at home. He tossed back the floppy hair which had fallen into his eyes and spotted the books in James's hand before he could hide them.
"Show Derek your books, dear," said Anita.
James handed them over with bad grace.
"Local history, archaeology. Do you find Ravenshurst interesting, then?"
"Yes," said James, non-committally.
Rodney forgot himself.
"We heard the local legend from the vicar and we thought we'd find out more about it!"
"How about my ghost?" Mandy had just come in and overheard the conversation. "Is there anything in those books about the cottage with the well?"
"We saw that cottage when we went to the church," said Rodney. "We could look that up too."
James was furious. He felt badly let down by his friend; you could always trust girls to let you down, so he didn't feel so bad about Mandy. He glared at Rodney, but before he could say what he wanted to say, his mother intervened. "I hope you boys are not going to get yourselves into trouble with this. I've already told James, and this applies to all of you, Mandy as well. No poking round the countryside in the dark! I am sure Derek agrees with me!"
"I do indeed," said Derek sternly. "Read your books by all means, but don't try any detective work for yourselves. It would be really foolish of you - it's not safe to get mixed up in things like that. If you want to look at any buildings, you must have an adult with you. It gets dark too early these nights."
"Why should I listen to you?" cried James. "You're not my father! I am not afraid of bogies, any more than Dad would have been. You can't put me off, if I want to do anything."
"James!" shouted his mother. "You have gone too far!"
She made James go to his room to do his homework, and sent Rodney home. Mandy took James his supper later.
"You're an idiot, Jim," she said. "You are only getting yourself into trouble - for nothing - and you got Rodney sent home."
"Rodney let me down, telling Derek what we were doing," sulked James.
"Look, James," said Mandy, sitting down on the bed. "I am beginning to quite like Derek. I think you are wrong about him. Anyway, he's got lovely long eyelashes."
James got up from his chair, and threw the cushion at her.
"Girls!" he said bitterly.
After she had gone, he looked at himself in the mirror, to see if he had long eyelashes. He had - they were ginger.
