“You were nearly killed last night. He didn’t help you.”
“Yes. But he and Jamie are very close. Twins. Maybe it is not such a great idea to split them up.”
There didn’t seem anything more to say. Pedro collected the jug and the glasses and carried them in. Richard and Matt were left on their own.
“That went well,” Matt said, gloomily.
Richard finished his lemonade and set the glass down. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said. “We’re all feeling bad about last night, the death of Joanna. Jamie will talk to Scott. He knows you’re doing the best you can. They’ll work it out.”
“I hope so.”
“In just a week, you’ll be in Vilcabamba. All of you. You’ve got the diary now. And despite what happened last night, you all came out of it OK. None of you was badly hurt. I’m sure you’ve made the right decision, Matt. It’s all going to work out.”
But Matt wasn’t so sure. He twisted round and looked at the house, at the scorched wood, what was left of the roof, and suddenly he was aware that something was wrong, that it didn’t quite add up.
If Ramon had been able to find them so easily, why had it taken the Old Ones so long? And if they had wanted the diary back so badly, why hadn’t they sent a larger force? Matt had seen the sort of creatures the Old Ones had at their disposal. They had crawled out of the floor of the Nazca Desert… the armed soldiers, the giant animals, the hoards of shape-changers. But they hadn’t been there last night.
Was he making the right decision, splitting them up? Or was this what he was meant to do? Was he reacting to decisions that had already been made?
Later that afternoon, two cars came to the house. One would take Pedro and Scott to Arequipa, the famous “White City” in the south of Peru. They would have to stay there overnight before flying to Cuzco. Because of the thin air high up in the Andes, planes were only able to take off and land in the morning. Two of the Incas would go with them and then escort them up through the cloud forest to Vilcabamba.
Jamie, Richard and Matt had a shorter drive to Nazca airport where a private plane was already waiting to fly them up to Miami. They would wait in Miami until Matt’s new passport arrived and then they would cross the Atlantic to England. If things went well, they would only be apart for a few days.
Matt took one last look at the professor’s house. The town children would probably raid it in the next few days, stripping it of anything of value. He had been there for a long time. He had almost begun to think of it as his home but now it was nothing. Burned out. Broken. Empty.
Richard loaded their bags into the boot.
“Vilcabamba,” Matt said.
“Vilcabamba,” Pedro agreed.
The two of them shook hands. Scott and Jamie said nothing – but Matt knew that they were communicating even so.
It was all over very quickly. The four boys climbed into their different cars and went their separate ways.
THE HAPPY GARDEN
In London, Scarlett Adams was trying to get back to her old life.
The doctors had decided there was nothing wrong with her. The police had asked more questions but had finally given up. Maybe she had suffered from amnesia. Maybe the whole thing about her disappearance had been a schoolgirl prank – but either way they had better things to do. Even the press had decided to leave her alone. A new president, a man called Charles Baker, had just been elected in the USA, and according to all the reports, there had been something strange about the way the votes had been counted. It was turning into a huge scandal and that left no room in the papers for a girl who had been missing for less than a day.
Just forty-eight hours after he had flown all the way to England, Paul Adams went back to Hong Kong.
Scarlett understood why he couldn’t stay with her. He had only recently started his new job, working in the legal department of a huge company involved, amongst other things, in the manufacture of computer equipment and software. It hadn’t made a good impression, shooting off to London at such short notice. He had to get back again.
Back to Nightrise.
Paul Adams took Scarlett out to dinner on his last night at home. The two of them went to a little Italian restaurant that he liked in Dulwich. He ordered half a bottle of wine for himself and a lemonade for her and the two of them sat facing each other trying to think of things to say. Paul was wearing expensive jeans and a jersey that didn’t really suit him. The truth was that he was only really comfortable in a jacket and tie. It was like a second skin to him. Maybe it was his age. He was forty-nine years old and he had been a lawyer for more than half that time, devoting his life to contracts, complicated reports and charts. It was hard to imagine what he had been like as a teenager.
“Are you going to be all right, Scarly?” he asked.
“Yes.” Scarlett nodded.
Neither of them had spoken very much about St Meredith’s. Paul Adams seemed to have accepted her story. She had fallen ill. She had forgotten whatever had happened. Scarlett wondered why she hadn’t confided in him. He had always been kind to her. Why was she lying to him now?
“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Paul Adams paused and sipped his wine. “Do you really have no idea what happened to you?”
“I wish I did.”
“You could tell me, you know. I wouldn’t be cross with you. I mean, if there’s some sort of secret or something you’re afraid of…”
Scarlett shook her head. “I told the police everything.”
Paul Adams nodded. Then the waiter arrived with spaghetti carbonara for him, a pizza for Scarlett. There was the usual business with the oversized pepper grinder, the sprinkle of parmesan cheese. At last they were on their own again.
“How’s the job going?” Scarlett asked. She had deliberately changed the subject.
“Oh. It’s not too bad.” Paul Adams twirled his fork in the spaghetti. “Do you want to come to Hong Kong for the Christmas holidays? I’ve spoken to your mother and she’s happy for me to have you this year. I’ll get a few days off and we can travel together.”
“I’d like that,” Scarlett said, although she wondered what it would be like, travelling, just the two of them. They seemed to have grown apart so quickly.
They ate in silence. Paul Adams didn’t seem to be enjoying his food. He left half of it, then took off his glasses and began to rub them with his napkin. Looking at him just then, Scarlett thought how old he had become. It wasn’t just his hair that was going grey. It was all of him.
“I’m sorry, Scarly,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve rather let you down, haven’t I? If I’d known that Vanessa and I weren’t going to stay together… maybe we should have thought twice about adopting a child, although of course I’m glad we did. I think the world of you. But it hasn’t been fair. Leaving you on your own with Mrs Murdoch.”
“It was my decision,” Scarlett reminded him.
“Well, yes. I suppose it was.”
“Why do you have to work in Hong Kong?” Scarlett asked.
“It’s a wonderful opportunity. Not just the money. Nightrise has offices all over the world and if I can work my way up the ladder…” His voice trailed off. “I’ll only be there a couple of years. I’ve told them already. Then I want them to transfer me to the London office and we’ll be together again.”
“Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’ll be all right.”
“Will you, Scarly? I hope so.”
He left on the early flight the next day.
Scarlett had already gone back to school – and that hadn’t been easy either. The headmistress, a grey-haired
