sign, one hand raised in a friendly wave. On the other hand, like something from a Christmas card, sat a fat little robin, the end of its tail apparently long
since snapped off and lost. There was something almost overpoweringly sad about the statue, it seemed to Barney, as if the two characters had come to this clearing many years ago during some game
of hide-and-seek and were still waiting patiently to be discovered.
Gabby knelt down in front of the statue to inspect the words inscribed into the sign. With the sleeve of her coat she wiped away some dried mud.
‘It says “The Robin and the Robot”. But the writing’s backwards.’
‘The whole thing’s backwards,’ said Fiona. ‘When I carved the statue the robot Cluedroid was holding Bobby Robin in its left hand. Now he’s in its right.’
‘So how did it get reversed?’
‘No one knows,’ said Fiona Cress. ‘There was some odd gas explosion when the statue was unveiled, but there’s no way an explosion can turn something into a mirror image
of itself, is there? I thought maybe I was going mad and had carved it backwards all along and maybe I was seeing everything reversed. But when I saw some photos I’d taken of the
half-completed statue it proved the writing had been the correct way around when I was making it.’
Gabby ran her finger along the backwards words on the sign. ‘Wowsers,’ she said softly. ‘That’s a real mystery.’
‘No one cares about it, though,’ said Fiona, a tired and sombre note in her voice. ‘A young girl went missing at the time the statue was unveiled. Terrible business – and
a much more important mystery than some silly statue. It was in all the papers for a while. She never was found and nobody wanted to use this playground after that. It was awful – poor little
Fleur Abbott. Her parents still live in Blue Hills. I see them in the street sometimes. You can see in their faces the sadness has never left them.’
Barney gave a sudden gasp. He turned to Fiona. ‘Did you say her name was Fleur
Abbott
?’
‘Yes,’ said Fiona Cress. ‘Why?’
‘Do you know what her parents are called?’
‘I do. They’re called—’
‘
Dave and Gill
,’ Barney finished for her. ‘They’re called Dave and Gill, aren’t they?’
Fiona Cress nodded. The wooden fish on her earrings danced and swayed like hanged men.
CHAPTER SIX
THE SOCIETY OF HIGHLY UNUSUAL THINGS
Gabby lay in bed, somewhere between sleep and waking, weird chains of thoughts streaming and tumbling through her mind. Outside, she could hear the fractured music of the dawn
chorus. Around her the duvet felt soft and enveloping as steam, her limbs as heavy as stone.
She thought about Chas Hinton, how he had impossibly jumped inside his own schoolbag and vanished. She thought of the doves soaring out of the paper bag, of Barney’s EGG dropping into his
waiting hands, and of the look of amazement and joy on her friend’s face at having his game returned to him.
Last night Gabby had posted a message on an Internet forum she sometimes frequented, a place where school kids swapped advice and tried to help with one another’s problems. She uploaded a
photo of Chas that Laura had taken with her mobile phone and asked if anyone knew of this strange kid and his magical gifts. Maybe someone out there might have a little information about him. He
had to have come from somewhere. In the photo Chas had been wearing a small, knowing smile, making him look a bit like a male Mona Lisa. Chas’s smile now swam before her mind’s eye,
Cheshire Cat-like, hinting at some strange and incredible secret.
Next she thought about Fiona Cress and her weird army of pottery binturongs, of the chill that had entered the woman’s voice when she talked of the missing girl, Fleur Abbott, and of the
look of astonishment on Barney’s face when he realised the elderly couple he had been visiting must be Fleur’s parents.
Thinking about the missing girl brought Gabby’s
since snapped off and lost. There was something almost overpoweringly sad about the statue, it seemed to Barney, as if the two characters had come to this clearing many years ago during some game
of hide-and-seek and were still waiting patiently to be discovered.
Gabby knelt down in front of the statue to inspect the words inscribed into the sign. With the sleeve of her coat she wiped away some dried mud.
‘It says “The Robin and the Robot”. But the writing’s backwards.’
‘The whole thing’s backwards,’ said Fiona. ‘When I carved the statue the robot Cluedroid was holding Bobby Robin in its left hand. Now he’s in its right.’
‘So how did it get reversed?’
‘No one knows,’ said Fiona Cress. ‘There was some odd gas explosion when the statue was unveiled, but there’s no way an explosion can turn something into a mirror image
of itself, is there? I thought maybe I was going mad and had carved it backwards all along and maybe I was seeing everything reversed. But when I saw some photos I’d taken of the
half-completed statue it proved the writing had been the correct way around when I was making it.’
Gabby ran her finger along the backwards words on the sign. ‘Wowsers,’ she said softly. ‘That’s a real mystery.’
‘No one cares about it, though,’ said Fiona, a tired and sombre note in her voice. ‘A young girl went missing at the time the statue was unveiled. Terrible business – and
a much more important mystery than some silly statue. It was in all the papers for a while. She never was found and nobody wanted to use this playground after that. It was awful – poor little
Fleur Abbott. Her parents still live in Blue Hills. I see them in the street sometimes. You can see in their faces the sadness has never left them.’
Barney gave a sudden gasp. He turned to Fiona. ‘Did you say her name was Fleur
Abbott
?’
‘Yes,’ said Fiona Cress. ‘Why?’
‘Do you know what her parents are called?’
‘I do. They’re called—’
‘
Dave and Gill
,’ Barney finished for her. ‘They’re called Dave and Gill, aren’t they?’
Fiona Cress nodded. The wooden fish on her earrings danced and swayed like hanged men.
CHAPTER SIX
THE SOCIETY OF HIGHLY UNUSUAL THINGS
Gabby lay in bed, somewhere between sleep and waking, weird chains of thoughts streaming and tumbling through her mind. Outside, she could hear the fractured music of the dawn
chorus. Around her the duvet felt soft and enveloping as steam, her limbs as heavy as stone.
She thought about Chas Hinton, how he had impossibly jumped inside his own schoolbag and vanished. She thought of the doves soaring out of the paper bag, of Barney’s EGG dropping into his
waiting hands, and of the look of amazement and joy on her friend’s face at having his game returned to him.
Last night Gabby had posted a message on an Internet forum she sometimes frequented, a place where school kids swapped advice and tried to help with one another’s problems. She uploaded a
photo of Chas that Laura had taken with her mobile phone and asked if anyone knew of this strange kid and his magical gifts. Maybe someone out there might have a little information about him. He
had to have come from somewhere. In the photo Chas had been wearing a small, knowing smile, making him look a bit like a male Mona Lisa. Chas’s smile now swam before her mind’s eye,
Cheshire Cat-like, hinting at some strange and incredible secret.
Next she thought about Fiona Cress and her weird army of pottery binturongs, of the chill that had entered the woman’s voice when she talked of the missing girl, Fleur Abbott, and of the
look of astonishment on Barney’s face when he realised the elderly couple he had been visiting must be Fleur’s parents.
Thinking about the missing girl brought Gabby’s
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