The Finding of Freddie Perkins (5 page)

Granny P was just like all the other grown-ups after all. She was playing a game with him. She'd obviously known where the key was all along, sneaked back up
to the attic after he was in bed, and put it out on the table, before locking the door and putting the torch back in its place, ready for him to find when she sent him up on his own the next morning.

No doubt she was going to try to convince him there was some kind of magic or haunting going on in the attic.

Freddie was disappointed. And he was angry, too.

He had thought they were sharing an adventure, that he was really helping… that they were in it together. But now it felt like a big let-down, a conspiracy to cheer him up – as if a stupid attic could ever do that.

Well, two could play at that game.

Freddie ran back upstairs.

He would lock the chest again and hide the key. He would call Granny P's bluff.

And of course he would look in the chest himself now, before locking it again and pretending to be none the wiser.

* * *

It was probably about half an hour after he had first gone up when Freddie heard Granny P and Dad
coming up the stairs. They were talking to each other about the mysterious chest, and Freddie thought that Granny P would surely not be playing a trick on his dad too. But then he realised they must have planned it all together, and their conversation now was really for his benefit – a little charade to further build his sense of excitement.

‘I know it seems silly, Stephen, but really I didn't get a wink of sleep for thinking about it. Whatever could be inside? Of course it's probably something terribly dull, and it's just made exciting by the mystery. I hope we won't all be dreadfully disappointed.'

‘Don't resolve it all now, Ma,' said his dad. ‘I haven't got it open yet and I may not even be able to.'

‘Ah, sure you will, lad,' said Granny P, ‘after that hearty breakfast I gave you, too.'

‘Slave labour and bribery.'

‘Well, don't you catch on quickly?' said Granny P. Freddie could hear the chuckle in her voice. And then they were in.

Dad and Granny P both seemed so excited about the chest, and pleased to see him busy sorting already. And Granny P was really delighted with the progress he had made on the boxes full of old newspapers.
Some of the front page headlines were amazing. Freddie had started putting them in order, and the earliest one he had found so far was from 1888 – imagine!

Freddie felt a bit unsure whether or not he had done the right thing about the chest. But he said nothing – and kept turning the key over and over in his pocket to be sure it was still there. He felt even more confused when Granny P didn't mention it at all – not even when his dad ended up bruising his hand with the crowbar he was using to try to prise open the chest.

But then, Freddie didn't mention the key either.

Still, Granny P was an adult. Adults stopped games when they went too far, didn't they?

Freddie was wondering whether to pretend he'd just found the key before Dad seriously hurt himself, when with a cry of excitement, he got the chest open.

‘Freddie, come quickly!' shouted Granny P. ‘It's open!'

Freddie feigned excitement swiftly followed by disappointment. ‘Oh, I don't believe it,' he said. ‘It's empty.'

Granny P looked like she might cry. ‘I'm so sorry,
Freddie,' she said, ‘I shouldn't have let us get so excited. I feel awful now. I was really hoping there would be something amazing in there for us to find together.'

‘Let's all go and have a cup of tea,' said Freddie's dad to the two despondent faces in front of him. ‘I'm sure you will find lots of exciting things up here. You just need a bit of a time out, like all good teams do. Come on.'

And with that they all went downstairs, shutting the door behind them.

Granny P turned the key in the lock and gave it to Freddie. ‘I know this doesn't make up for it, but I think you should be the key-keeper. You're doing such a brilliant job with the sorting, Freddie. I hope we do find something remarkable somewhere to reward all your hard work.'

* * *

They had some of Granny P's shortbread with their cup of tea, but Freddie found it stuck in his throat a bit.

Granny P seemed genuinely disappointed – as disappointed as he would have been if the chest had actually been empty.

But of course it hadn't been.

Freddie had only had time to quickly flick through the diaries he had found in there. But he knew they were seriously old, very valuable and potentially full of amazing stories. From the initials on the front, and the various photos stuck inside them, he knew that they were written by one of his great-great grandfathers on the McCormack side of the family – one of Granny P's grandfathers or great-grandfathers probably. But he'd need Granny P to tell him which one. And he was still deciding whether he would ‘find' them in front of Granny P or not. It might not matter knowing exactly whose they were, or he might be able to work it out eventually from dates and events – he knew already it was one of his great grandfathers that had done a lot of exploring, so a few well-placed questions might trick Granny P into giving him the answer he needed without her finding out why he was really asking.

But for now, while he decided, the diaries were safely hidden further back in the fifth gable.

Hang on, though. Did Granny P already know he had the diaries?

The more he thought about it all, the more
confused he was. Surely Granny P would be cross, or at least anxious to know where such precious things were. Her behaviour now suggested she didn't know what had been in the chest. But if she hadn't known, it didn't really work as a set-up, did it?

Why would she have pretended there was no key, but had the key and put it out for a chest whose contents she honestly didn't know about? It was all very strange. The more he considered it, the more he thought Granny P genuinely had been as excited as him – that maybe she hadn't known about the key. But how was that possible?

Someone
had put the key on the table.

Freddie didn't understand how it was possible, but he was definitely starting to have some doubts about whether Granny P had been involved. He decided that he would ‘find' the diaries again. But he felt the weight of something not very nice pressing down in his mind. Even then he would be lying to Granny P. And he didn't feel quite so angry any more.

He tried to tell himself that it would be just the same for Granny P if he ‘found' them now, after their tea break. But of course he knew it wasn't.

When the three of them went back up, Freddie got out the attic key. He had been a bit nervous that he'd produce the wrong one and get found out, so he'd been reciting to himself
left is chest, right is attic
all the way up the stairs to be sure he didn't get flustered and forget.

It was Granny P that spotted them first.

The diaries were on the table – neatly stacked in the middle.

Freddie was genuinely dumbfounded.

He had hidden them in the far gable, quite far back and well out of sight; he had been the last person in the attic; and he had the only key. Even if there was a duplicate which Granny P had not let on about, Freddie had been with her and Dad the whole time since they had come down from the attic.

The diaries were not there when they left. No one had been back up. And they were there now.

Granny P was ecstatic about the new find. And so was Dad.

‘Freddie, come here, this is really something,' said Dad.

‘To think,' said Granny P, ‘we were so fixated on that silly chest that we missed what you were sorting through – and that you'd found these with the newspapers. Freddie – you've found something truly special! I'm so sorry we didn't notice straight away. Didn't you realise what they were?'

By now Freddie was so confused that he had a genuine look of bewilderment about him – he had
no need to pretend anything. He was truly baffled. Search as he might through every possibility, he simply couldn't find any rational explanation for how those diaries had ended up on the table.

‘But they weren't here. There was nothing on the table before.'

‘Oh, Freddie,' said Dad, ruffling his hair, ‘you must have been away with the fairies when you were looking at those newspapers, and totally missed the diaries sitting under them.'

‘I didn't miss them. They weren't here,' repeated Freddie, and then quietly again to himself. ‘I
know
they weren't here.'

‘Oh come on, Freddie, they didn't just appear out of nowhere. We're not falling for that one. Nice try.'

Freddie wanted to protest, but he knew there was no point. He couldn't explain it, and even if he tried he'd have to admit his part in finding and hiding the diaries. It would just have to be another thing between them that he let go.

* * *

Well, of course, once the diaries were discovered, especially because Dad was at home, the attic was
abandoned for the day and they all sat round the dining room table poring over them together.

And so Freddie did find out the answers to his questions. The diaries belonged to Great-Great-Great-Grandpa Walter Seymour McCormack. They were more than 150 years old, which in itself was quite astonishing. They detailed W.S. McCormack's explorations in Egypt, and talked about the people, the land, and the artefacts that he had discovered.

It was incredible, thought Freddie. His great-great-great-grandfather had been like an ancient Indiana Jones!

But, fascinated as he was, Freddie was distracted. He couldn't fully enter into the excitement that Granny P and Dad felt, and that he would have felt, had not the diaries appeared on the table after he had hidden them somewhere else.

It niggled and niggled at him until he could bear it no more.

Whilst Dad and Granny P continued to decipher and read the first of the diaries, Freddie slunk away from the table. He decided to go back up to the attic. Just to see. Would there be anything else on the table?

This time Freddie felt nervous opening the door by himself. But he took a deep breath, turned the key and found the light switch without even using the torch.

There was nothing untoward. Nothing on the table. Nothing different to how they'd left it. He felt relieved mostly, but also a tiny bit disappointed. But why would there be anything? It wasn't like he had actually been expecting something to appear out of nowhere… had he?

Freddie backed away from the table, and feeling a little silly, and still more confused, edged his way out on to the landing, closing the door of the attic behind him.

He locked the door and went back downstairs.

* * *

At the end of the day, after reading the diaries all the way through until late into the evening, Dad, Granny P and Freddie agreed they needed to be kept somewhere really safe. They decided the attic would be the best place – that way they could be kept locked away, and out of the light which might be damaging to them.

In fact, Granny P said, the ideal storage place for them would be in the empty chest.

So they all climbed up again, to put the diaries away safely until they could speak to the curator at the local museum.

When they opened the door and went in again, it was Freddie's dad who spotted it.

‘Look!' he said, pointing to the table in surprise.

On it was a beautiful necklace. Even in the half-light of the attic, it was sparkling brightly as the swinging bulbs cast their slightly shimmering light over it. It was gold, with a number of large green stones surrounded by clusters of what Freddie thought must be diamonds.

‘Well, how beautiful, and how valuable this must be,' said Granny P. ‘We must take it into Campbell and Sons as soon as we can. But where did it come from? Freddie, did you find this too?'

‘No,' said Freddie. ‘It wasn't here when we came down with the diaries. The table was empty.'

‘Hmmm,' said Freddie's dad. ‘I smell a rat. First the diaries, and then the necklace. Freddie, are you playing a game with us?'

‘No, I'm not,' said Freddie. ‘If anyone's playing
games, it's not me. I didn't put the necklace there. It wasn't there when we left.'

‘Well, no, sure, not when
we
left. But I heard
you
come back up, didn't I? You must have put it on the table then. Very good, Freddie! A great find, and a clever joke too to try and make us think it had just appeared.'

‘I'm not playing any jokes,' said Freddie.

‘Now, Freddie,' said his dad, ‘I let it go earlier with the diaries, but this kind of thing isn't funny. I understand you're just trying to have a bit of fun, and cheer us all up, but these are valuable objects and they're not yours. You should be treating your grandmother's belongings with much more care. Playing around with things this precious is irresponsible and I don't want to have to tell you about it again.'