Beyond the Cherry Tree (2 page)

Chapter 2

Missing

‘M
issing!’ – that was the headline that leapt off the photocopied pages being placed onto every desk; the sun shone its blinding rays through the open windows of the Charlotty School
classroom
, illuminating the word.

Mr Higgins had instructed Josh to hand out the crisp black and white copies of the
Charlotty News
front page.

‘I want everyone to look carefully at the heading,’ Mr Higgins smiled excitedly.

Josh sat down, holding the last page. He ran his eyes over the large black letters that dominated it.

‘Now have a look at the date on the top right-hand corner. Can anyone tell me the significance of this date?’ asked Mr Higgins with a childish look of expectation in his eyes under their big, red, bushy brows.

Matty Baker was the first to launch his hand into the air. Mr Higgins hesitated before giving Matty the nod to answer.

‘Go ahead, Matty.’

‘It’s tomorrow’s date, sir,’ answered Matty. ‘Only it’s twelve years old.’

‘Very good, Baker. You can all put your hands down now,’ instructed the teacher. Then he slid around his shiny
polished
oak desk on his bottom and began fumbling in his brown leathery briefcase.

‘What’s this all about?’ asked Matty nudging Josh, who sat beside him.

Josh didn’t reply. He was fascinated by the words on the page, almost as if he was falling under hypnosis with every line that his eyes ran across.

‘Josh!’ said Matty, trying to catch his friend’s attention.

Josh jumped. Mr Higgins spun around again, holding what appeared to be an old newspaper.

‘Now, boys. Following Mr Baker’s correct answer, I have here in my hands the original newspaper of twelve years ago. Before I continue, is it possible that there might be somebody who can tell the rest of us exactly what this newspaper article is all about?’

Almost involuntarily, Josh Bloom’s hand shot up.

‘Ah! Mr Bloom,’ smiled Master Higgins. ‘You’ve read the article already. Good man. Stand up, then, and tell us all.’

Josh stood up and glanced all around the room, then fixed his eyes assertively on his teacher.

‘I didn’t read it all, sir, but I pretty much know the story anyway.’

‘Really! Excellent. Carry on, then.’

‘Well, sir!’ continued Josh. ‘I’ve heard it from my Uncle Henry. You see, sir, he works at Cherry Tree Manor. He’s the gardener there.’

‘Yes!’ interrupted the teacher, wondering how long it would take the boy to actually get to the point.

Josh paused for a moment while looking all around the room again. He wasn’t too sure about how much he should say, he knew so many stories about the eccentric general.

Some of the other boys began to titter.

‘That’s enough,’ said the teacher. ‘The article, Joshua. In your own time.’

Josh took a deep breath.

‘Well, you see, Cherry Tree Manor is owned – I mean,
was
owned – by a general named Pennington. General Edgar Pennington,’ explained Josh. ‘And this article is all about his disappearance, twelve years ago, tomorrow.’

Now everyone in the room was paying attention, and
certainly
not tittering. They were paying attention because it was a mystery! Every young boy and girl loves a mystery.
And this story that Josh was beginning to unfold was indeed mysterious.

‘Very good, Josh,’ commended the teacher. ‘You can sit back down now. I want everyone to read this article tonight, because tomorrow you are all going to Cherry Tree Manor on a field trip.’ Mr Higgins could hear contented chatter ripple across every desk in the room. ‘Now, boys. I know this sounds like you’re all going on a big adventure, and well, I suppose in a way it
is
an adventure, but it will be a class trip and we will be there to learn.’

Mr Higgins looked over at Josh.

‘As Josh has already informed us, General Pennington mysteriously disappeared twelve years ago. That anniversary falls on tomorrow’s date. As a result of this, Claudia
Pennington
, the general’s daughter, has agreed to open the house to various groups in Charlotty. And since Charlotty Primary was one of the many lucky recipients of generous funding from the general’s vast wealth, Ms Pennington has kindly sent an invite for our class to visit.’

Unexpectedly, Matty Baker’s hand shot up.

‘Yes, Matty?’

‘Sir, does the general’s daughter still live in the manor?’ quizzed Matty.

Josh didn’t mean to answer on behalf of his teacher, but for some reason his mouth opened and words came out – loudly.

‘No, she doesn’t. Nobody’s lived there in years.’

‘Very good, Josh. You certainly have done your research,’ smiled Mr Higgins. ‘As Josh has just informed us, nobody has lived at the manor for many years, but it is kept in pristine condition, financed by a trust funded by the general’s daughter. This fund pays for the maintenance and upkeep of the house and its many valuable artefacts, and, of course, for its immense, spectacular grounds, which Mr Bloom’s uncle tends.’

Both Josh and Mr Higgins had captured the undivided attention of the whole class. Unfortunately for Josh, who was now bursting at the seams to continue the story about the missing general, a greater sound rang through the room.

The school bell!

In a split second, the powerful magic that mystery can hold was cast aside as the more powerful magic of the sound of hometime rang through the room. Books and pens were snappily brushed into school bags and thirty pairs of shoes clattered towards the exit.

Poor Josh’s ears were hurting on the way home on the bus as Matty bombarded him with an interrogation of questions about the general.

‘Go on, Josh,’ hounded Matty. ‘You must know what
happened
to the general.’

‘I don’t. Honestly,’ insisted Josh.

‘But your uncle’s worked there all his life. Surely he knows
what happened to the general?’

‘Nobody knows, Matty. Haven’t you even looked at the news headline? He just vanished one day and never returned. No body was ever found, so no one knows whether he is even dead or alive.’

‘Amazing!’ gasped Matty. ‘Hey! Do you think we might find out something tomorrow, like a clue or something?’ Matty’s imagination was running wild now.

Josh laughed, ‘I’ve been to the manor lots of times to visit Henry at work, and I’ve never, ever seen anything suspicious or come across any clues.’

Matty’s eyes widened, ‘Have you been in the house?’

‘No. Nobody goes into the house. That’s kind of why I’m amazed that the general’s daughter is letting a group of school kids in tomorrow.’

‘I’m telling you, Josh,’ grinned Matty as he got up for his stop. ‘Tomorrow’s going to be a trip to remember.’

Then, he jumped off the bus, leaving Josh gazing back down at the newspaper article.

Chapter 3

Cherry Tree Manor

J
osh was last to board the school bus the next morning.

He was late – twenty minutes late – and he had to endure dirty looks from all his classmates all the way down to the back of the bus until he hid his head behind the welcoming headrest of the seat in front of his.

‘What kept you?’ tutted Matty. ‘We were going to go without you, but I kept telling Higgins that you wouldn’t miss this trip for the world. I think he’s more excited about it than anyone else.’

Matty wasn’t trying to brag for sticking up for Josh, but he was definitely making it known that he had stuck his neck out for his friend.

‘Aunt Nell,’ answered Josh, his face beginning to return to its normal sallow colour instead of the lush pink glow that had stung his cheeks from running so hard.

‘Aunt Nell?’ repeated Matty. ‘Aunt Nell, what?’

‘That’s who made me late. She saw me showing the
newspaper
article to Henry last night and has been on my case ever since. She was badgering me so much about how I should leave Henry alone when we get to the manor, and not be bothering him that I ran out without my journal and pen. I had to go back for them. That’s why I’m late.’

‘Oh!’ chuckled Matty. ‘I didn’t think of bringing a journal and pen.’

Josh turned and smiled at Matty, then rested his head back and stared out the window as the bus began to climb Gorse Hill.

It was about a fifteen-minute drive up to Cherry Tree Manor. None of the other boys on the bus had ever
travelled
up Gorse Hill – there was no need, as it only led to the manor, one road in and one road out – but Josh had cycled along its steep, winding roads whenever he visited Henry at work. He was familiar with every twist and turn and bump and hollow that the school bus struggled with as it slowly crunched along the gritty, narrow road that was
cushioned
with hawthorn and wild grasses and vibrant patches of yellow gorse in between. Finally, to everyone’s delight, the rattling bus choked out a huge huff of fumes as it spluttered through the open tall black iron gates of the grand estate.

Josh leaned over Matty and raised his hand to the window
as he spotted Henry stepping out from under a mature rhododendron bush that was beautifully covered from head to heel in large spectacular white flowers. Henry was leaning against a bench that sat beneath one of the many magnificent cherry trees that lined the drive up to the manor. He lifted his head and waved to the bus as it drove by, then, continued to tackle a clump of cleaver-weed that had tangled in his jumper.

All the boys on the bus turned and looked at Josh as if to silently acknowledge that they had seen his uncle who did indeed work at the estate. Josh blushed a little, but only because of Henry’s clumsy appearance; he had been fiddling with his clothing instead of performing some brilliant
gardening
task like felling a large tree or cutting the grass on the big ride-on mower.

As the bus approached the house, it circled around a tall copper fountain that trickled cloudy green water from three dragon’s mouths down into a large round pool covered in duckweed. There was a small group of ducks swimming in the pool. Their beaks were covered entirely in blobs of green matter from diving under the water and searching for any minute life form unlucky enough to please their appetites. This was very amusing to all the passengers on the bus, but the banter was quickly hushed by the voice of Mr Higgins at the front of the bus.

‘Now, boys, settle down. I know you’re all excited and of course, so am I, but I want you to listen to a few things I have to tell you.’

It took a few attempts for the teacher to get total silence. Herding a busload of excited school kids on an outing is not as easy as commanding a classroom of attentive pupils in a teacher’s natural environment.

‘Good,’ sighed Mr Higgins. ‘Now, I want you all to be on your best behaviour. Yes, you’re all very excited about this trip, but do remember that this is a fine stately home that deserves both respect and discipline. There will be a guide to take us around the house. I’ve been informed that not all areas and rooms of the house will be on show, so I don’t want anyone wandering off. We’ll all stick together as a group. And if you have any questions, leave them until the end, unless the guide says otherwise. All understand?’

Everyone just nodded.

‘Oh! And don’t touch anything.’

The bus emptied out quickly, until all thirty pupils and their teacher stood outside, gazing in awe at the general’s great house.

‘There’s something spooky about that house,’ sniggered Matty to Josh.

‘Don’t be stupid, Matty,’ huffed Josh. ‘It’s …’ Josh paused.

‘What?’ asked Matty.

‘It’s …’ continued Josh. ‘It’s just perfect, don’t you think?’

‘Perfect?’ repeated Matty. Then he looked at the house again. ‘I’m not even inside and it’s giving me the creeps already.’

Josh dragged his eyes away from the house for a second and smiled at Matty.

‘Well, I think it’s just perfect. Come on, they’re going in.’

Cherry Tree Manor didn’t have steps leading up to its front door. Instead, it had an unusual, sloped, winding,
sparkling
granite pathway that twisted and turned around
sweet-smelling
beds filled to the brim with hyacinths, lavender and tall, bushy mop-head roses covered in small juvenile buds, which would soon burst out in welcoming colours. All the boys huddled in front of the two grand black doors with their gleaming brass knobs.

Then, almost as if the house had chosen its moment, the doors creaked open, and a small, slim woman in a tweed skirt and jacket with a folder tucked under her arm invited
everyone
in. Josh was the last person in line. Just before he stepped into the house, he turned around and caught a glimpse of Henry trailing across the front lawn with a wheelbarrow overflowing with cut tulips of all colours. Reds, oranges,
yellows
and stripy ones too. It was as if a rainbow had fallen from the sky and settled in Henry’s barrow.

Then the doors closed behind him and, to his delight, the
colourful but ordinary world outside was gone. In front of his eyes appeared a much darker more thrilling environment as he gazed all around the fascinating and eccentric hall of the general’s abode.

In an instant of stepping across the doorway, Josh felt something strange. It was like the house
knew
that it had visitors and it had suddenly woken from a deep sleep. Josh couldn’t quite work it out, but he felt it – the house’s energy, rushing through the walls and along the floor. He could hear the stretching of wood, followed by waves of draughts as if the house were breathing in and out. He began to feel less excited and more concerned.

Their guide in the tweed jacket, Ms Tredwell, was standing on the fifth step of the stairway in the centre of the hallway. At first she said nothing, but just looked around the
gathering
of boys. She occasionally fixed her glasses, which
ridiculously
appeared to be much too big to sit comfortably on her neat and narrow shiny nose.

She didn’t mind the delay. All the boys pointed around the hall, whispered comments, and made exaggerated facial expressions each time their eyes feasted on something new. She expected this. You see, Ms Tredwell had done the very same herself the first moment she had stepped into the manor.

Finally, as it appeared that everyone was beginning to
settle, she addressed her tour, and as she did another lady appeared on the upper landing and walked down the
staircase
and stood beside her.

Josh thought he recognised her.

‘Good morning, everybody,’ Ms Tredwell said with a hint of inexperience and nervousness in her voice.

As is typical of boys, nobody answered at first.

‘Come on now, boys,’ smiled Mr Higgins.

‘Good morning,’ almost everyone replied.

Ms Tredwell managed a trembling laugh, ‘Well, I’m Ms Tredwell, and I have the very lucky job today of guiding you all around this – I’m sure you’ll all agree – magnificent and fascinating historical house, which was once owned by General Pennington.’

She turned around and waved her right hand up to an enormous portrait of the general hanging on a wall of the first stairway landing behind her.

‘He looks proper grumpy,’ giggled Matty to Josh.

‘He’s a general,’ smiled Josh. ‘He’s not supposed to look any other way.’

Ms Tredwell turned to the lady standing beside her. ‘This is the general’s daughter, Claudia Pennington, who has kindly invited you all here today.’

Mr Higgins began to clap and gestured to everyone else to join in.

Josh noticed the general’s daughter looking toward him. He blushed a little and then turned his eyes away from her.

I’ve seen her in the gardens before!
he thought.
Maybe that’s why she’s looking at me, she must recognise me!

As the general’s daughter returned upstairs and Ms Tredwell babbled on about certain paintings in the
hallway
that the general had collected, all the class jotted down random pieces of information in their notebooks. Josh’s eyes were fixed on the portrait behind his guide; he stared so inquisitively at the portrait that his guide’s voice sounded muffled to his ears.

Suddenly he felt a shiver down his spine as his eyes made direct contact with the general’s dark, glazy eyes. For a split second it was almost as if he wasn’t staring at a mere
painting
. He felt that the face was almost staring back at him with thoughts and judgements and questions of its own.

Matty was right! This house
was
spooky.

Josh tried to get back the enchanted feelings he had when he entered the hallway for the very first time. But then he noticed the ghastly carvings of small, winged creatures in the wooden architrave that roped around the walls of the hall. There were large, ferocious beast heads that hung above each doorway. These weren’t the heads of lions or tigers or moose or other creatures that would be hung as trophies after a triumphant safari venture, but more sinister creatures of an
abnormal ferocity.

To Josh’s disbelief, among all of this extremity of the
abnormal
, dainty little Ms Tredwell had somehow distracted
everyone’s
attention towards a collection of boring old paintings of horses and carriages and lakes with bridges and roaring red skies in the background.

Totally bonkers!
thought Josh.
The whole lot of them. This is not what this house is all about. When is the real tour beginning? Why isn’t she talking about all the strange things in front of
everyone’s
eyes, the things that struck electricity into us all as we walked in through the doors? This house feels alive!