‘Inside out,’ Tanya repeated. ‘Right. That makes absolutely no sense, you know.’
Ratty chortled. ‘Who said it had to make sense? Fairies make no sense.’ He glanced at Turpin, who was sneakily listening in. ‘No offence. All you need to know is that these things work.’
They were now in a wide meadow, lushly carpeted with thick, green grass. Three horses were visible a short distance away and, beyond them, a cluster of stables. As they drew nearer, one of the horses looked up with interest and began trotting towards them. Having just removed Oberon’s leash, Tanya wondered whether she should put it back on.
‘Why is it coming towards us?’
Ratty reached into another one of his pockets and pulled out a carrot. ‘Because she knows she’ll get a treat. Don’t worry, she’s friendly.’ He snapped the carrot into three, offering the first piece to the shimmering, black horse who had approached. She took it from him, crunching loudly, and he rubbed her nose. ‘Here.’ He offered Tanya a piece of carrot. ‘Ever fed a horse?’
She hesitated. ‘No. I rode one once at the beach when I was little, but I’ve never been near one since.’
‘Go on, take it,’ said Ratty. ‘She’s very gentle, I promise. Just hold your hand flat, like this, so you don’t accidentally get bitten.’
Tanya took the piece of carrot and mimicked him. The horse’s velvety nose tickled her palm and with a quick crunch and a swallow the carrot was gone. She stroked its nose, the way Ratty had done, and felt a surge of pleasure as the horse nuzzled her in return.
‘She’s a beauty, isn’t she?’ Ratty said, his voice full of admiration. ‘I call her Morrigan. It means “great queen”.’ He fed her the last piece of carrot, then took a quick glance about the meadow before taking her mane and hoisting himself cleanly on to her back. He held out his hand to Tanya. ‘Come on.’
‘Up there?’ Tanya blinked in surprise. ‘But there’s no saddle!’
‘It’s fine,’ Ratty assured her. ‘We’ll go slowly. It’s not far now.’
‘Then perhaps we should just walk,’ said Tanya.
‘We could, but this is more fun,’ Ratty persisted. ‘Look, there’s a tree stump over there. You can use it to climb on.’ He clicked and steered Morrigan to the stump. A minute and a scramble later, Tanya was sitting behind him. ‘Hold on,’ he said.
Tanya did as he told her, but it was surprisingly calm and steady. They set off at a walk, keeping to the edge of the meadow in the shade of the trees. Things whispered and shuffled in the branches above them, and Tanya knew it wasn’t just birds and squirrels. There were voices, too – fey voices – but they were too low to make out any words clearly. Despite the feeling of being watched, Tanya was enjoying herself and the gentle sway and shuffle of the horse’s movements. Oberon trotted along beside them, his nose in the grass and tail in the air.
‘Who do the horses belong to?’ Tanya asked.
Ratty shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Pa says he’s seen people mucking out the stables a few times, but it’s always early.’ He patted the horse’s flank and looked up, gently bringing Morrigan to a halt. ‘Here we are.’
Tanya looked around them, but could see only trees and endless meadow. ‘This is where you live?’ she asked uncertainly. She peered between the trees, fairy-tale images of gingerbread cottages and woodcutters’ log cabins flashing into her mind.
‘This is the place,’ Ratty confirmed. ‘Hop off then.’
Tanya swung her leg back and slid off the horse, landing lightly on the grass. Ratty dismounted, running his hand over Morrigan’s shimmering, black coat. ‘Go on then, girl,’ he murmured. ‘Back you go.’ Morrigan gently butted his hand, then turned and headed back across the meadow, breaking into a canter.
‘Right then,’ said Ratty. ‘Through here.’ He pushed a branch back and stepped further into the little copse.
Tanya followed, dry twigs and leaves crumbling underfoot. A few steps in, she caught a glimpse of duck-egg blue through the dense greenery. They were heading towards it. A short way in there was a clearing and, finally, Tanya was able to see Ratty’s mysterious home. A blue camper van stood beneath the trees. Gingham curtains were drawn across the windows, making it impossible to see inside. In front of the van, a blackened pot hung over the charred remains of a campfire. Beyond that, drying clothes dangled from a thin line strung between two trees.
‘Home sweet home,’ said Ratty. He reached into the neck of his shirt and pulled out a grubby-looking string with a key hanging from it, unlocking the side of the van. He heaved the sliding door open and hopped up the step, pulling back the curtains. ‘Come in.’
Tanya followed, curious. She had never been in a camper van before. Inside, there was a small table with a long, cushioned bench either side of it, which she supposed doubled as beds. A tiny kitchen area was directly behind it, with a two-ring cooking hob, a kettle, toaster and a sink. Every nook was crammed with cupboards and shelves high and low, and, though a little old and shabby-looking, it was clean and tidy.
‘Pa must be out,’ said Ratty. He fetched a large bowl and filled it with water, then placed it outside for Oberon, who lapped at it gratefully.
‘Is that him?’ Tanya asked, noticing a framed photo on a nearby shelf. It showed a slightly younger Ratty with a smiling, handsome man. Like Ratty, he had very blue, almost turquoise eyes and thick, black hair that reached his shoulders. Against his dark skin, his teeth were dazzling white. He wore a silver hoop in each ear, giving him the appearance of a gypsy or a pirate. He looked, Tanya decided, like the kind of person who would know about fairies and she wanted to meet him. Very much indeed.
‘Will he be back soon?’ she asked.
Ratty was clattering about in the kitchen, pouring something fizzy into two tall glasses. ‘I never know with Pa. He’s normally back before dark, but sometimes he stays out all night.’ He placed the two glasses on the table and motioned for Tanya to take a seat. She started to slide on to one of the benches, but an angry chittering stopped her.
Turpin glowered in the doorway, stamping her feet. ‘Not there, stupid girl!’ she cried.
‘Oh,’ said Ratty apologetically. ‘She likes to sit that side.’ He patted the other bench. ‘Best sit here.’
Tanya squeezed into the narrow seat, silently taking a sip of her drink. It tasted of elderflowers, and she gulped the rest of it quickly, thirsty after the long walk. Ratty made to sit next to her, but was interrupted by a further protest from Turpin, who pounded the side of the van with her fist.
‘Whoops. Sorry, Turps.’ He scrambled to the door. ‘I almost forgot.’ He reached above and removed a sprig of dried red berries and leaves from a hook above the entrance. There was one, Tanya saw, in each of the windows, and Ratty quickly moved around the van, collecting them all.
‘What are those?’ Tanya asked.
‘Rowan berries.’ Ratty tossed the bunches into the driver’s seat in the front of the van. ‘It’s another deterrent to fairies. We put them in all the entrances whenever we go out to make sure we don’t have any unwelcome guests while we’re not here. Unfortunately, they work on Turpin, too.’
Tanya didn’t find this unfortunate at all – quite the opposite, in fact – but of course she did not say so. ‘Does she live in here with you then?’ she asked.
‘Most of the time,’ said Ratty. ‘But when the weather’s fine like it is now she sometimes makes a nest outside in the trees.’
Once the offending berries were out of sight, Turpin stomped into the van, nose in the air. She hopped on to the seat opposite Tanya and proceeded to empty her sack of loot on to the table. Out came the newspaper, the meat pie and iced bun, money, plus a few bits of fluff from people’s pockets and bags. Ratty brushed the fluff aside and hungrily unwrapped the food.
‘It was for you,’ she realised. ‘Turpin stole all these things for you.’
She regretted saying this immediately when Ratty lowered his eyes, embarrassed.
‘Sometimes there’s not much
to eat,’ he explained. ‘Not fresh food anyway. Pa isn’t much of a cook – most of what we eat is out of tins.’ He offered the meat pie to Tanya. ‘Want some?’
She shook her head. She wasn’t hungry, but, even if she had been, knowing Turpin had handled it would have been enough to put her off. Besides, as Ratty crammed the pie into his mouth, she realised just how hungry he was. He broke off a small piece for Turpin, who scoffed it noisily. The iced bun didn’t last much longer. Finally, Ratty wiped his mouth and took a long drink. When he’d finished, Turpin leaned head first into his glass, lapping like a dog. Tanya watched, unable to mask her disgust, yet Ratty didn’t seem to mind. When Turpin finally came up for air, she belched in Tanya’s direction.
‘Charming,’ Tanya muttered.
Turpin grinned maliciously.
‘So you’ve never met anyone else who can see fairies?’ Ratty asked.
‘No,’ Tanya replied.
‘That must be difficult.’
She nodded. ‘I’ve always wished that there was someone I could talk to about them, just to know that it’s not only me. That I’m not . . .’
‘Mad?’ Ratty finished.
‘Yes.’ She felt her face reddening. ‘Because sometimes it’s easier to think you are mad than to have no one that believes you.’
They both fell silent. Outside, a breeze ruffled the trees and sent whispers around the camper van. With the sunlight streaming in, it was peaceful now, but in the dark, Tanya suspected, it would feel quite different.
‘Don’t you get scared being out here at night?’ she asked.
‘Not any more,’ said Ratty. ‘I used to, when I was younger. But we move around a lot. We don’t always stay in places like this. Sometimes it’ll be on a cliff top where you can see for miles, and when it’s dark all you can see are the stars. Or maybe we’ll stop on a road by the beach. On those nights the only thing you can hear is the sea. It depends where we are, which town we’re in.’
‘How long will you be in Spinney Wicket?’
‘Until Pa gets bored, I suppose,’ said Ratty. ‘We never stay in any place for very long.’
‘You just go wherever and whenever he decides?’ Tanya asked. She couldn’t imagine living such a life, travelling on a whim. It sounded romantic, like something out of a fairy tale.
Ratty smiled faintly. ‘He says we go wherever the wind is blowing.’
‘It must be an adventure.’
‘Sometimes it is,’ he agreed. ‘Other times, when the roof is leaking and the wind is howling all night, making the van rock, I think how nice it must be to have a proper home. To be able to keep the friends I make.’
‘Do you make many?’ Tanya asked. She found this difficult to believe, given how rude Ratty had been when they had first met that morning. Perhaps she had just caught him off guard. He had been speaking to a tree after all.
‘A few,’ said Ratty. He sounded sad all of a sudden. ‘But none of them will remember me.’
She frowned. ‘I’m sure they do.’
Ratty opened his mouth to reply, but was distracted by something on the shelf above their heads. He reached up behind the photograph of himself and his father, and withdrew a small, red envelope that was tucked behind it.
‘This must be from Pa,’ he muttered. ‘I didn’t see it before.’
Tanya stared again at the man in the picture, but then found her attention drawn to a glass jar next to the photograph. She hadn’t paid much attention to it before as its contents were so nondescript, but now she found there was something about the jar that was bothering her. It was jammed full of odds and ends: a page torn from a book, a girl’s hairslide, a ribbon, a struck match, and lots of other things that were jumbled up and which she couldn’t see properly.
‘What’s all that stuff?’ she asked.
Ratty looked up from the envelope. There was a little crease between his eyebrows. ‘That? Oh, nothing. Just stuff that’s been lying around the van. Pa hangs on to things in case they come in handy.’
Tanya peered at the jar. There was something about Ratty’s voice she didn’t believe. ‘How can a struck match be useful?’
‘Exactly!’ Ratty laughed, but it sounded false. ‘That’s what I always say to him. It’s just junk. It needs throwing out.’
Tanya’s eyes narrowed. In such a small living space, where everything was so neat and ordered, and where space was so tight, it seemed very unlikely that a jar of such useless items would be kept. That was what bothered her about it. She pondered whether to voice her thoughts to Ratty, but decided against it. There didn’t seem much point and, besides, something odd was happening.
Turpin had sidled across the table and was now gazing up at her. It was making Tanya nervous.
‘What’s the matter with her?’ she asked Ratty. ‘Why is she looking at me like that?’
‘She likes your hair,’ Ratty explained. ‘She just told me.’
‘She did?’ Tanya stared back at Turpin doubtfully. The fairy nodded and gave a sickly sweet grin, revealing wicked little teeth.
‘She wants to touch it,’ Ratty said.
‘Er . . . all right,’ said Tanya. She did not really like the idea of that at all, but, since it was the first nice thing Turpin had said or done towards her, she felt she should allow it. Perhaps she could make a friend of her after all.
The words had barely left her lips before Turpin scampered up her arm and burrowed her face into Tanya’s shoulder. Tanya froze, stiff as a poker, as Turpin ran her fingers through the long, chestnut-coloured hair.
‘Now you remember what I said earlier, about teeth, and never letting a fairy have them?’ Ratty said.
‘Yes,’ Tanya said. She was distracted now, for Turpin was giving her hair a good sniff. She hoped the fairy wasn’t about to start chewing on it the way she did Ratty’s.
‘Well, it’s the same with hair,’ Ratty continued. ‘Hair, teeth, fingernails. They’re part of you and can be used in magic. Powerful magic. Putting tangles in your hair or making it stand up on end is easy if they’ve stolen a bit of it.’
‘But Turpin can’t use magic any more, right?’
‘Right.’ Ratty twisted the envelope between his fingers, turning it over and over, but not opening it. He seemed troubled.
In the next instant, there was a sharp pain on the back of Tanya’s neck, so piercing it felt almost like a bite. Turpin leaped back to Ratty, cackling.
‘Ouch!’ Tanya yelped. She rubbed at the tender spot. ‘She pinched me! Why did she do that?’
‘Turps!’ Ratty exclaimed. ‘That was a nasty trick. Say you’re sorry.’
Turpin buried her face in Ratty’s shoulder, her body shaking with silent laughter. ‘Shan’t!’ she said, her voice muffled.
Ratty gave Tanya another apologetic look, then his expression became serious. He was still turning the envelope over in his hands, unopened. Tanya got the feeling he was waiting until he was alone to read it and sensed she had outstayed her welcome. She glanced at her watch. She had been out for hours now and her mother was probably starting to worry. She got to her feet.
‘I should be going,’ she said. ‘Thank you for telling me about fairies. I’m sure it’ll be useful.’ She hesitated. ‘Goodbye, Turpin.’
Turpin stuck out her tongue.
‘Don’t take too much notice of her,’ said Ratty. ‘She’s rotten to everyone, even Pa sometimes.’ He scratched his messy, black hair and started to get up. ‘I’ll walk you back.’
Tanya shook her head. ‘I can go by myself. I remember the way.’
The sun was still warm when she stepped outside the van. She collected Oberon, then shielded her eyes from the dazzling light coming through the trees. Ratty watched her silently, the red envelope poking out of his shirt pocket.
‘Will I see you again tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘I’m sure you will,’ Ratty answered, but again there was something about his voice that was odd. A tinge of sadness almost. ‘I’ll be around. By the castle or on
the pier somewhere.’
‘I’ll look for you,’ said Tanya.
She set off, heading towards the sun. She passed the stables in the distance and soon reached the river. She crossed the bridge quickly, wanting Nessie Needleteeth safely behind her. All the while she pondered the strange afternoon spent with Ratty, and wondered what the red envelope contained. She thought of Turpin and the trick she had played, pretending to like Tanya’s hair just so she could be spiteful and pinch her.
Her temper flared at the memory and she found herself stamping heavily over the grass, even kicking a few dandelions when she saw them. It made her feel better. Very soon, though, the anger ebbed away and, by the time she had reached the road leading back to the holiday cottage, Tanya was finding it hard to remember what she had been angry about at all.
6
The Telltale Twitch
‘RATTY?’ SAID HER MOTHER, ONE EYEBROW raised. ‘What kind of a name is Ratty?’
‘A nickname.’ Tanya ate another forkful of mushy peas and stabbed at a chip on her plate. ‘I think he said his proper name was . . . Harry? Or was it Howard?’ Try as she might, she simply couldn’t recall what Ratty had told her when he’d first introduced himself.
‘Is this Ratty another one of your imaginary friends?’
‘I’m not making him up!’ Tanya exploded. She put her cutlery down and pressed her hands to her forehead. ‘I met him on the pier . . .’ She trailed off. ‘I think.’
Her mother sighed. ‘You only met him this afternoon or so you say. It shouldn’t be that difficult to remember, if you were telling the truth.’
‘I’m not lying!’ Tanya snapped. She was beginning to feel worried now. What was the matter with her? Why was she having such trouble remembering the events of the day clearly? She remembered Ratty and what he looked like . . . and there had been a fairy, too, though obviously she couldn’t tell that part to her mother. That must be it, she thought angrily. The fairy had done something to her, muddled her memory somehow.