Chapter 25
They were just finishing their fish and chip supper when there was a thump on the back door.
“It’s only me!” yelled Scarlett. “I’m back from gran’s and wanted to talk to Poppy about school.”
Scarlett stood stock still as she took in the presence of Tory and Henry Blossom and noticed Caroline’s broken wrist.
“Well, you’ve obviously had a much more exciting week than me,” she commented. “Gran’s was sooo boring. She thinks cross stitch is an exciting hobby and her television stopped working when they went over to digital. We spent most of the time visiting ancient aunties and looking around stately homes. It’s been gruesome. I’m so glad to be home, even if we do start Year Seven tomorrow.”
Poppy swallowed. She’d pushed all thoughts of secondary school to the back of her mind but now it was just hours away. She looked at Caroline. “Is it OK if we chill out in my room for a bit so I can fill Scarlett in on all the dramas?”
“Of course, sweetheart. I’m going to get Charlie to bed and then crash in front of the television. Henry’s taking Tory home.”
The two girls dashed upstairs to Poppy’s room. Caroline had already pulled the curtains, laid out clean pyjamas and switched on the fairy lights, which twinkled merrily over Poppy’s bed. Scarlett sat on the wicker chair by the window. “Right. I want to hear everything,” she said.
Twenty minutes later Poppy had brought her friend up to speed. “I wish I’d been here to help,” Scarlett said fervently.
“So do I,” said Poppy. “I was terrified something had happened to Charlie. And I feel so guilty about leaving Cloud. If it wasn’t for him we’d probably still be on the moor. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“The drift is two weeks away. There’s still time to catch him,” Scarlett pointed out. “Anyway, I’d better make a move. Mum only let me come if I promised I wouldn’t be longer than half an hour. Are you all ready for the morning?”
“Yes, my uniform, PE kit and new shoes are in the wardrobe. I just need to sort out my rucksack.” Poppy went quiet. She knew Scarlett wouldn’t judge her. “Actually, I’m dreading it,” she admitted.
“Don’t worry. We’ll stick together and I’ll introduce you to the girls from my primary school. A few of them are lame but most of them are really nice. You’ll be fine. Don’t forget, the bus goes from the bottom of the lane at ten to eight. So let’s meet at the postbox at twenty to and we’ll walk down together. Mum’s told Alex he’s got to look after us. He’s over the moon, as you can imagine,” Scarlett giggled.
When Scarlett had gone Poppy lay on her bed staring at the ceiling and wishing she was as sociable and outgoing as her friend. Caroline stuck her head around the bedroom door.
“Pat’s just phoned to say she’ll take Charlie to and from school for me until I can drive again. Isn’t that kind of her?”
Poppy nodded. “And Scarlett and I are going to walk to the bus stop together in the morning.”
“That’s a good idea. Why don’t you come down and say goodbye to Tory and Henry and I’ll run you a nice hot bath. You mustn’t be too late to bed tonight.”
Poppy felt as though she’d been asleep for a nano second when her Mickey Mouse alarm clock woke her with a shrill ring the next morning. She threw off the duvet, jumped out of bed and looked out of the window. The day before the tor had been completely concealed by fog. This morning it was bathed in mellow autumn sunshine.
Downstairs in the kitchen Caroline was singing. She broke off when Poppy walked in. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she asked, her blue eyes full of concern.
“Much better, thanks. I finally feel warm again,” Poppy said, reaching for a box of cereal.
“Good. Charlie’s still in bed. I thought I’d let him lie in.”
Poppy raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure? That’s what I thought yesterday and he turned out to be your dressing gown.”
“No, he definitely is. I heard him snoring. Unless he’s invented a snoring sound effect and is now halfway across Dartmoor looking for his wretched panther.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Poppy. She caught Caroline’s eye and they started giggling. The giggles bubbled into laughter and soon they were both laughing hysterically at the thought of Charlie rigging up a snoring soundtrack before creeping, SAS style, back onto the moor.
“As your dad’s not here perhaps he had to make do with recording Magpie snoring,” snorted Caroline, wiping tears from her eyes.
Poppy clutched her stomach and dissolved into giggles again. Her dad could snore for England. She tried taking deep breaths but every time she looked at Caroline they broke into peels of laughter. Poppy remembered the day Scarlett had made Caroline chuckle with stories of school and how jealous she’d been, watching from the sidelines. It felt so good to laugh with her stepmother. She realised that the only person leaving her out of everything had been herself.
Before she knew it she was walking reluctantly down the Riverdale drive in her new school uniform. The navy blazer felt scratchy around her neck and her new shoes rubbed her ankles uncomfortably. Poppy had worn polo shirts at primary school and after their fit of the giggles Caroline had shown her how to knot her new navy and gold striped tie.
“If you can do a quick release knot you’ll soon get the hang of this. You look so grown up, Poppy. Let me take a photo so I can email it to your dad. He’ll be so sad he’s missed your first day at secondary school.”
The bus ride into Tavistock was nerve-wracking and even Scarlett seemed intimidated by the too-cool-for-school sixth-formers, even though she could vaguely remember some of them from her primary school. In a whisper Scarlett filled Poppy in on everyone’s family histories so that by the time the bus pulled into the layby outside their new school she knew whose great aunt had married her first cousin and whose dad had been arrested for sheep rustling.
In fact the day Poppy had been dreading for weeks whizzed by. The two girls were delighted to discover they were in the same form but horrified when they were given their fortnightly timetables, which contained tortures like double science and maths. Their form teacher was a tall, thin, anxious-looking man called Mr Herbert. Some of the boys had already nicknamed him Filthy. Scarlett introduced Poppy to her friends from primary school and the girls trailed around endless corridors searching for the right classrooms whenever the bell went. There was a certain camaraderie among the new Year Sevens. They’d spent the last year strutting around their primary schools with all the confidence of very big fish in very small ponds. Suddenly everyone, even the most self-assured among them, felt as insignificant as sprats, back at the bottom of the pecking order.
At lunchtime Alex came to find them to check they were OK. Being in Year Nine gave him a certain amount of kudos and a couple of the Year Seven girls sitting near them tittered nervously as he chatted to Scarlett and Poppy about their morning.
“Scarlett, is that really your brother? He’s so good-looking,” said one dreamily as Alex walked away.
“You’re joking, right? You don’t have to live with him and his sweaty trainers. He’s a complete and utter pain in the –”. At that moment the bell went and they gathered up their lunchboxes and trundled slowly out of the canteen in a river of navy blue and burgundy.
By Thursday Poppy and Scarlett were beginning to find their way around the school and were getting to know more of their classmates. Charlie had started at Scarlett’s old primary school the previous day and had already made firm friends with a boy called Ed, whose dad was the local farrier. The evenings were getting darker and Poppy had at least an hour’s homework every night. She hadn’t had a chance to see Cloud all week and fretted about him constantly.
On Friday the Tavistock Herald published its story about Charlie’s big cat sighting alongside a shorter article about the search operation for two children who had gone missing on the moor the previous weekend. Charlie produced the paper with a flourish the minute Poppy let herself in the back door after school
. She flung her rucksack under the kitchen table and settled down to read. The big cat story took up most of page three. Next to Charlie’s picture of the cat were Henry Blossom’s photo of Charlie and Poppy and a file picture of a black panther with the caption, Could a creature like this be roaming Dartmoor?
Exclusive: Boy captures Beast of Dartmoor on camera
By Stanley Smith
A six-year-old Waterby boy has astounded big cat experts after capturing the clearest photo yet of the so-called Beast of Dartmoor.
Charlie McKeever was with his 11-year-old sister Poppy on the moor near Waterby last Thursday when they saw the black panther-like creature.
“The cat was massive and we were both absolutely terrified,” said Charlie, whose dad Mike McKeever is one of the BBC’s top war correspondents.
“We weren’t terrified,” said Poppy indignantly.
“I know. Sniffer Smith seems to have embellished most of the quotes,” Caroline replied drily. Poppy continued reading.
The quick-thinking Waterby Primary School pupil grabbed his digital camera and took this photograph seconds before the cat leapt from the boulder and disappeared onto the moor.
Big cat enthusiast John Clancy, who has been tracking the fabled Beast of Dartmoor for the last five years, said the image was irrefutable evidence that the big cat existed.
“Thanks to a brave six-year-old we can at last prove to the sceptics that there is a black panther living on our doorstep,” he added.
But Tavistock Police Inspector Bill Pearson was quick to dismiss the sighting. He told the Herald: “I really don’t know why people continue to get so excited about the so-called Beast of Dartmoor. Call me cynical but it’s probably just someone’s overweight black moggie that’s strayed too far from home.”
Have you seen the Beast of Dartmoor? We’d love to hear your story. Email the newsroom now.
“We’re famous, Poppy!” said Charlie. “Everyone at school’s going to think we’re so cool.”
Poppy quickly scanned the second article about the search and rescue operation. Inspector Pearson was quoted as saying he was glad the outcome had been a happy one while issuing a stern warning about the dangers of Dartmoor. He hadn’t released their names to the press and she was relieved to see that Sniffer hadn’t made the connection. But her name was still plastered all over the local paper. She hated the limelight and couldn’t imagine anything worse than being the centre of attention, especially at school. The very suggestion made her feel sick.
Seeing her concern Caroline squeezed Poppy’s hand. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. By Monday people will be wrapping their fish and chips and lining their cat litter trays with the Herald. It’ll be old news. Now, what would you like for tea?”