Stormdragons

Chapter 6

The next morning Joe and Clare tried to make sense of what had happened.

'Where does this crow come from and why is it following us? That's what I want to know,' said Joe.

'Don't be so dramatic, Joe,' Clare replied. 'The crow that took the bag is hardly likely to be the same one you saw in north London.'

'But it is a possibility.'

'A very remote one,' said Clare. 'My problem is how I claim insurance. Who'll believe our story?'

'There's the hole in the car's roof,' said Joe.

'I suppose. And what are we going to do for money? How much do you have?' asked Clare.

'Not much, £10 maybe.'

Clare looked suspicious.

'I thought Mum gave you spending money to last the week,' she said.

Joe shrugged.

'I've already spent most of it. Yesterday, in the arcade,' he said.

'For goodness sake, Joe! We arrive down here to find Uncle Toby's missing and all you do is go off and waste money at an amusement arcade!'

Joe bristled.

'Perhaps I wanted to take my mind off things. And not wallow in it like you seem to be doing,' he said.

Clare's hackles rose.

'Wallow in it? What sort of language is that? That's a terrible thing to say! Apologise this minute.'

Brother and sister glared at each other over the kitchen table. Then Joe got up and left, slamming the door behind him.

Clare felt herself torn between bursting into tears and exploding with rage. Joe was useless with money. She'd repeatedly advised their mother not to give him so much. 'It only encourages him to waste it and ask for more,' she'd told her. She's been right. Now, when they urgently needed some cash, he'd already spent it.

A few minutes later, as she was washing the breakfast dishes he'd left behind, Clare saw Joe mount their uncle's bicycle and head off into town.

'Good riddance,' she thought to herself, but she knew that within the hour she'd be worrying about where he was and what time he'd be back.

Joe rode into Falscombe at a fast pace. The argument with Clare had put him in a bad mood. His missed his mother and his room. He missed his skateboard and his mates. Clare was so convinced she was right about everything. Always had been. She never really tried to see things from his point of view. She just didn't seem to accept that boys might think and feel differently. He thought of Madame Lefevre. At least she had some class, some glamour. He wondered how much the reward for the compass might be. That would really show Clare up. She'd have to eat her words about him then.

When he arrived at Pete Copsey's house, the front door was open. Joe called but there was no answer. He peered in through the window. The sitting room was in an even greater mess than the day before. In fact it looked as it had been ransacked.

He called out again. Again there was no answer. He looked at his watch. Too early for the pub, surely?

Joe forced himself to enter the house and to start searching. But it felt wrong. It felt as if he were a burglar. What's more, the house was a mess. So Joe soon lost heart and gave up. He went outside. Litter and empty bottles lay strewn around the wheelie-bin. Odd bits of boating equipment and scruffy lobster pots stood piled against the fence. There was even a heap of stones in the far corner, fist-sized stones with holes drilled through them. Joe guessed they were weights used to sink the lobster pots and keep them in place on the sea-bottom.