up there at the castle,” he said.
Everyone knows who I am , Will thought. It’s spooky.
Next door was a shop called The Winking Cat. He peered through the window and then went inside. A teenager with blond dreadlocks sat at a till listening to music. Sparkling rocks of all different colours were arranged on tables and piled in plastic boxes labelled with names like tiger’s eye, sunstone, pink fire quartz, opals and Apache tears.
“Crystals,” said the boy at the till. He turned the music down. “They have powers. For divination and stuff like that. And they can protect you from things. I’m not really into it myself.”
Long skinny candles, bunched together by their wicks, hung from the ceiling. One other customer, a girl with long red hair, was standing in front of a display of narrow boxes with a sign that said Incense . It was the girl from the bookstore. Will thought Favian had said her name was Madeleine with a foreign-sounding last name.
He picked two postcards from a rack at the front of the shop. The first picture was a tapestry of two knights on horseback in front of a castle. He read the caption on the back. Jousting Knights, 1601, Morgan Moonstone, Medieval Tapestry Collection, Galleria dell’Accademia, Florence.
The picture on the other postcard was also a tapestry. The back of the card said Stag in the Forest, 1602, Morgan Moonstone, Medieval Tapestry Collection, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
Morgan Moonstone. The name was on both postcards. Was he an ancestor of the poet Vespera Moonstone? Had Morgan Moonstone woven the tapestries?
Will took the postcards to the counter and asked the boy for four red candles. He paid for his purchases, left the shop and headed up Black Penny Road with his bags. He was just about at Thom’s door when Thom stuck his head out the window above and called, “What took you so long? Emma’s here. We’re going to set the Cherry Tart Flambé on fire!”
Will leapt up the stairs. Thom wore a flowered apron and his hair was sticky with yellow custard. Emma was standing on her head in the middle of the room.
“How many seconds?” she grunted.
“Sixty-five,” said a man with a pale face, seated in a wheelchair in front of a huge loom.
Emma collapsed on the floor. “Beat my record!” She had a long purple and red striped scarf draped around her neck. Will thought she looked amazing.
“Did you see Peaches on your way here, by any chance?” she said.
“No,” Will replied.
The man in the wheelchair smiled. “You must be Will. I’m John, Thom’s dad.”
Will dropped his parcels on a table. He stood beside the loom and watched. John was weaving a picture of a lord and a lady riding a magnificent white stallion. The colours were vibrant – blue, gold and crimson. “It’s awesome!” said Will.
“It’s going to be a wall hanging,” said John.
Will remembered his postcards. He took them out of a bag and showed them to the others. “I got them at a shop called The Winking Cat .”
“That’s my granny’s shop!” said Emma. “She’s too old to work there now, and we take turns looking after it for her. You must have met Lukas. He’s one of my brothers.”
“This one’s my favourite,” said Will, pointing to the postcard of the stag with silver antlers.
John wheeled over to have a closer look. “That’s a very famous tapestry. The workmanship is exquisite. It’s in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.”
“Who’s Morgan Moonstone?” asked Will. “His name is on the back of both cards.”
“What about the Cherry Tart Flambé?” interrupted Thom.
“Right,” said John. “Into the kitchen, everyone! I want to see this too. And then we'll talk about Morgan Moonstone!”
Cherry Tart Flambé, Will discovered, was a big pie filled with pale yellow very lumpy custard.
“The lumps are the cherries,” explained Thom. “I only had one can of cherries so I had to make a lot of custard.”
Thom sprinkled sugar all over
Everyone knows who I am , Will thought. It’s spooky.
Next door was a shop called The Winking Cat. He peered through the window and then went inside. A teenager with blond dreadlocks sat at a till listening to music. Sparkling rocks of all different colours were arranged on tables and piled in plastic boxes labelled with names like tiger’s eye, sunstone, pink fire quartz, opals and Apache tears.
“Crystals,” said the boy at the till. He turned the music down. “They have powers. For divination and stuff like that. And they can protect you from things. I’m not really into it myself.”
Long skinny candles, bunched together by their wicks, hung from the ceiling. One other customer, a girl with long red hair, was standing in front of a display of narrow boxes with a sign that said Incense . It was the girl from the bookstore. Will thought Favian had said her name was Madeleine with a foreign-sounding last name.
He picked two postcards from a rack at the front of the shop. The first picture was a tapestry of two knights on horseback in front of a castle. He read the caption on the back. Jousting Knights, 1601, Morgan Moonstone, Medieval Tapestry Collection, Galleria dell’Accademia, Florence.
The picture on the other postcard was also a tapestry. The back of the card said Stag in the Forest, 1602, Morgan Moonstone, Medieval Tapestry Collection, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
Morgan Moonstone. The name was on both postcards. Was he an ancestor of the poet Vespera Moonstone? Had Morgan Moonstone woven the tapestries?
Will took the postcards to the counter and asked the boy for four red candles. He paid for his purchases, left the shop and headed up Black Penny Road with his bags. He was just about at Thom’s door when Thom stuck his head out the window above and called, “What took you so long? Emma’s here. We’re going to set the Cherry Tart Flambé on fire!”
Will leapt up the stairs. Thom wore a flowered apron and his hair was sticky with yellow custard. Emma was standing on her head in the middle of the room.
“How many seconds?” she grunted.
“Sixty-five,” said a man with a pale face, seated in a wheelchair in front of a huge loom.
Emma collapsed on the floor. “Beat my record!” She had a long purple and red striped scarf draped around her neck. Will thought she looked amazing.
“Did you see Peaches on your way here, by any chance?” she said.
“No,” Will replied.
The man in the wheelchair smiled. “You must be Will. I’m John, Thom’s dad.”
Will dropped his parcels on a table. He stood beside the loom and watched. John was weaving a picture of a lord and a lady riding a magnificent white stallion. The colours were vibrant – blue, gold and crimson. “It’s awesome!” said Will.
“It’s going to be a wall hanging,” said John.
Will remembered his postcards. He took them out of a bag and showed them to the others. “I got them at a shop called The Winking Cat .”
“That’s my granny’s shop!” said Emma. “She’s too old to work there now, and we take turns looking after it for her. You must have met Lukas. He’s one of my brothers.”
“This one’s my favourite,” said Will, pointing to the postcard of the stag with silver antlers.
John wheeled over to have a closer look. “That’s a very famous tapestry. The workmanship is exquisite. It’s in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.”
“Who’s Morgan Moonstone?” asked Will. “His name is on the back of both cards.”
“What about the Cherry Tart Flambé?” interrupted Thom.
“Right,” said John. “Into the kitchen, everyone! I want to see this too. And then we'll talk about Morgan Moonstone!”
Cherry Tart Flambé, Will discovered, was a big pie filled with pale yellow very lumpy custard.
“The lumps are the cherries,” explained Thom. “I only had one can of cherries so I had to make a lot of custard.”
Thom sprinkled sugar all over
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