ya gonna tell me wot had ya so upset in the first place?’
‘Well, it’s … it’s Mr Crow. He’s so horrible, he always makes me sign things I know I shouldn’t sign, he doesn’t help my grandma, he steals and if I don’t do what he tells me to do he beats me. It’s not fair!’ She stopped suddenly, worried she’d said too much. If this stranger was in the house, then maybe he was friends with the lawyer.
The man grimaced in sympathy. ‘Well, if he’s the one in charge of yer purse strings, then it comes as no surprise yer education has holes in it. That man is a nasty piece of work. But tell me now, would ya be Charlie?’
‘Uh, yes,’ said Charlie, surprised to hear the stranger use her name and also relieved that he shared her views on Mr Crow. ‘How did you know?’
‘Ha! We been hearing lotsa things and we been hearing of ya for a long time. I’m surprised I haven’t bumped inta ya before now. Nice pendant by the way. Is it an egg or an acorn?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Charlie replied. Her fingers subconsciously rubbed the beautiful pendant that hung from her neck. ‘It was a gift from my parents.’
‘Well, look after it, lass. A stompin’ Hippotomi like yerself could lose something precious if she wasn’t careful. Now,’ he said, looking around, ‘I gotta run, cos I’m late. But not ta worry – now that I know ya I’ll be sure to make time to see ya.’ And, so saying, the stranger promptly walked off down the hallway.
‘Wait!’ cried Charlie. ‘You didn’t answer all my questions. What’s your business? What are Treman and … and … and Stoman, what are they?’ stuttered Charlie.
But the figure continued to walk briskly away, topknot and feather bouncing along in time with his footsteps. ‘I’ll tell ya next time!’ he shouted back at her.
‘When’s that?’ asked Charlie, hurrying after him as he disappeared down the corridor.
‘Probably the next time the house complains about yer kickin’ and stompin’!’ laughed the stranger. ‘And look after that pendant!’ he called as he stopped by a small door. He paused to wave at Charlie, then dashed on through.
‘Wait, please wait!’ called Charlie. ‘I don’t even know your name!’
But it was too late. The door had shut and Charlie was sure the stranger couldn’t have heard. Raising her foot to deal out some serious stomping and stamping to the floorboards, she was interrupted by the door reopening.
Out popped the stranger’s head and with a twinkle in his eyes he sang out to Charlie, ‘Jensen the Willow is me name!’ Then his head ducked out of sight and the door began to swing shut. Before it could close it banged back open and Jensen’s head re-emerged. ‘And no more stompin’!’
The door crashed shut.
Charlie, who was still standing on one foot, mid-stomp, nearly toppled over.
Rushing down the hallway, she yanked open the door and dashed through. She came to a shocked standstill. She had never been in this room before.
It was huge.
A domed ceiling was hidden in shadows and the curved walls on the far side were a good stone’s throw away. On brackets evenly spaced across the walls were blazing torches that flickered and cast dancing silhouettes over the floor. Carved on the stone walls were huge snarling dragons that seemed to flail and thrash. Massive circular doors punctured the walls at regular intervals. Charlie stood there and gaped, mouth wide open. Turning round, she discovered that she was alone; she couldn’t see Jensen anywhere. The cavernous room was empty.
How could this room possibly exist in my house? Charlie thought to herself. She was used to the idea that there were far more doors and corridors than should really be within its four walls, but this room was something else.
Realizing she probably looked pretty stupid with her tonsils showing, Charlie snapped her mouth shut and went to investigate the nearest door. It was gigantic. Standing next to it, she had to crane her neck right back to see the top.
The door was constructed from a huge slab of stone. Wonderful carvings of roses, vines and thorns criss-crossed its surface in complex patterns. An oversized handle of black rock jutted outward. Grasping this with both hands, Charlie tugged, pulled and pushed with all her might. But the door refused to budge.
Frowning, she moved on to the next door. It had been made from timber and was so cleverly constructed that no joints could be