Kensy & Max: Freefall Page 2

  ‘What about a tour after lunch then?’ Kensy asked.

  Curtis’s face lit up. ‘Yes, please.’

  Song dallied at the door. ‘I’m afraid that will have to wait until after you see your grandmother. She has requested a meeting as soon as you finish your meal.’

  Kensy and Max looked at one another. Surely she couldn’t have made her decision already.

  Cordelia Spencer sipped her tea and nibbled on a shortbread biscuit. Minutes ago she’d received a call about a business award that had come as quite a surprise and she was still thinking about it when there was a knock on the door.

  ‘Come in,’ the woman called, trying to suppress the smile that kept tickling her lips.

  Max entered first followed by Kensy then Curtis.

  ‘Hello Granny,’ Max said. ‘Song sent us. He said that you wanted a chat.’

  ‘Hello darlings,’ she stood up and walked over to greet them and ushered everyone to the armchairs and lounge that were arranged around the fireplace. ‘How are you enjoying Alexandria, Curtis?’

  The boy took in a deep breath then exhaled loudly. ‘Well, I’m afraid I slept in very late, but from the little I’ve seen so far, it’s incredible. You must love living here. If I lived here, I don’t think I’d ever leave. Thank you so much for having me. And it’s a real honour to finally meet you – even though we are technically next-door neighbours in Sydney.’

  ‘Yes.’ Cordelia smiled. The boy’s enthusiasm was endearing. ‘Kensy and Max told me that you’re something of an amateur sleuth.’

  The twins wondered where their grandmother was taking the conversation. Surely she wasn’t just going to ask Curtis if he wanted to join Pharos – the world’s most important secret spy organisation. She’d have to do a lot of explaining first, and Fitz and Song said that Curtis had to pass a series of tests before he’d even be considered and that would take weeks.

  ‘I like to know what’s going on around the neighbourhood,’ the boy said, nodding earnestly. ‘It’s important to pay attention.’

  ‘I completely agree. You never know when something might be awry,’ the woman said, matching the boy’s seriousness. ‘I’ve had a few concerns with staff recently.’

  ‘Really, Granny?’ Kensy leaned in closer. ‘Who? Because I’ve always had my suspicions about . . .’ Max gave his sister a sharp kick in the ankles and glared at her.

  ‘Ow!’ the girl complained, unsure about what she’d done to deserve it. Now seemed the perfect time to tell her grandmother what she thought about Shugs – although to be fair he hadn’t done anything lately – but she was still convinced he was the taxi driver in London who tried to kidnap her and Max before they knew anything about Pharos. And the identity of the person who planted the bomb that destroyed 13 Ponsonby Terrace before they were sent to Sydney remained a mystery too.

  ‘Be quiet,’ Max mouthed. ‘This might be part of the test.’ Finally Kensy understood.

  Cordelia ignored her grandchildren’s antics. ‘Perhaps while you’re here, Curtis, you can keep a watch on things for me – let me know if you notice anything out of the ordinary.’

  The boy’s eyes lit up. ‘I’d be happy to. It’s not Song, is it?’ A deep frown line appeared at the top of his nose. ‘I’d hate for it to be him because he’s become one of my favourite people in the world. And he’s an excellent cook.’

  Max smiled at the thought of Curtis suspecting Song of any sort of bad behaviour – the man was a pillar of the family, which made the reason his name was in that note from Magoo’s office even more curious.

  Cordelia stood up and walked to her desk. She picked up a small leather-bound notebook and a pen then passed them to the lad. ‘In case you’d like to make some observations.’

  Curtis turned the book over in his hands. ‘It’s beautiful. But what are those markings on there?’

  ‘Perhaps you’d like to see if you can work them out,’ the woman said.

  ‘Do Kensy and Max have notebooks too? I mean it would be better if we were all on the lookout for strange behaviour, wouldn’t it?’ Curtis asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Cordelia said. ‘They’re already well equipped.’

  The children were wondering exactly what their grandmother was playing at. They didn’t have notebooks like the one she’d given Curtis. Kensy was beginning to feel a little miffed that the woman hadn’t asked her and Max to keep an eye on things as well – maybe she’d just do it anyway.

  The girl was deep in thought when she noticed that the eyes of the brass monkey paperweight on her grandmother’s desk had begun to glow.

  ‘Granny,’ Kensy said then motioned towards the light.

  The woman stood up and peered over the top of the children’s heads. Suddenly there was a crackling noise and a voice.

  Cordelia rushed to her desk and immediately the static ceased, the voice along with it.

  ‘Right, sorry to have to hustle you out, but I have something urgent to approve for this evening’s edition of the Beacon,’ Cordelia said. ‘Why don’t you go for a walk? Show Curtis about. I’ll see you all at dinner.’

  Curtis turned and looked over at the desk. ‘That’s a very cool ornament.’

  ‘Yes, it is, isn’t it?’ Cordelia said, shuffling the children towards the door.

  But Kensy didn’t miss the strange look in her grandmother’s eyes. There was something going on and she was almost certain it was more than just a newspaper story.

  Rupert Spencer closed the door and slid the deadbolt across.

  Tinsley Chalmers tried to calm her racing heart while her children huddled either side of her, holding tightly to each hand. Both Van and Ellery Chalmers were the colour of stone. Though it wasn’t surprising given the events of the past few hours.

  ‘How did my husband find us?’ Tinsley whispered as she pressed her eyes closed and took a deep breath.

  ‘Probably the same way I did,’ Rupert said. ‘You’ll be safe here for now. We won’t be staying long.’

  ‘Here’ was a cottage in the middle of a thick woodland they’d reached after a long and bumpy drive through densely forested countryside.

  Not more than a few hours ago, Van and his younger sister, Ellery, had been poking around the derelict chook shed on the farm where they were living on the outskirts of a town called Eymet in France when two strangers arrived. The pair soon made it clear that they had come for the children and weren’t planning to leave until they had their prize. It seemed they hadn’t counted on Rupert showing up. Things had taken a dramatic turn, but at least the family was intact.

  Van let go of Tinsley’s hand and stepped forward. ‘You still haven’t told us how you know our mother.’

  Rupert glanced at the boy then walked over to check the windows and pull the curtains across.

  Van was the image of his father, Dash; good looking with a touch of fire and a sprinkle of arrogance. Hopefully he was young enough that his mother’s influence would be more pervasive.

  ‘Who do you work for, Rupert Spencer?’ Van demanded. He wanted answers.

  Ellery had taken a seat on the ancient floral couch and was picking anxiously at the skin around her fingers.

  ‘Shut up, Van,’ she yelled. ‘Someone just tried to snatch us. If it wasn’t for Rupert, where do you think we’d be now? And I don’t even want to think about what could have happened to Mum!’ The girl began to sob.

  Tinsley raced to her daughter and wrapped her arms around the child. ‘It’s all right, sweetheart. You’re safe.’ Ellery burrowed into her mother’s chest, wailing loudly. Tinsley had never been so happy to see a familiar face in all her life when Rupert turned up in Eymet. But how he knew where to find her was another thing altogether. And why? Unless he’d been sent by her parents-in-law – that was a possibility given his mother and her mother-in-law were best friends.

  ‘I’ll make some tea,’ Rupert said and walked through into the kitchen of the old cottage. Van followed him.

  ‘What happened back there? Where�
��s our father?’ Van’s words fired at Rupert like bullets from a Gatling gun.

  Rupert filled the kettle and opened a cupboard then another, hunting for some tea bags and cups. He located what he was after and threw an unopened packet of biscuits at Van.

  ‘You should probably have a snack. It might take me a while to find something for dinner,’ Rupert said.

  Van caught the packet then put them down on the bench. ‘Mum said that Dad did something really bad and that’s why we had to leave Sydney. She said he’s an evil man, but I want to go home. I hate France – I hate everything here!’ the boy shouted. ‘What’s happening to us?’ Tears welled in his eyes.

  Rupert turned and held the lad. Van struggled at first, kicking Rupert’s shin and digging his fingernails into the man’s arm, but eventually he succumbed to his grief, howling into Rupert’s chest.

  ‘It’s okay, mate. I’m going to look after you and your mum and sister. I promise,’ Rupert said calmly.

  He’d been searching for Dash for months, following a trail that ran hot and cold all over the world. Recently he decided to change tack. If Rupert knew anything about Dash, the man would want his children back and there was no way Tinsley was going to win on that front. It didn’t matter if he still had feelings for his wife; she knew too much. Given what else he’d been up to, holding Hector and Marisol hostage for all those years, Tinsley would simply be collateral damage. Rupert set forth, tracking her down. Ultimately it wasn’t nearly as hard as he would have liked it to be. Which meant that Dash, with his vast resources, would be able to do the same. And Rupert was right. Fortunately his timing couldn’t have been better.

  Rupert had already arranged for a clean-up team to get rid of the two thugs he’d left in a bad way at the farmhouse in Eymet.

  He finished making the tea and some hot chocolate for the children and guided Van back to the sitting room. He passed Tinsley a mug and sat another on the side table for Ellery.

  Tinsley looked at the children through weary eyes. ‘You don’t know the whole story. I was trying to protect you from the worst of it but given what’s happened I think it’s time you know the truth.’

  ‘Finally,’ Van muttered under his breath. ‘Except how do we know you’re not lying to us?’

  Tinsley had felt her son’s resentment building ever since they’d left Sydney. Ellery had been easier to cajole, but Van missed his father terribly.

  ‘Rupert was engaged to your aunt, Abigail,’ Tinsley said.

  ‘Dad’s sister?’ Van frowned. ‘The one who drowned?’

  Rupert nodded.

  ‘So you’re our uncle?’ Ellery glared at him, her lashes still wet with tears.

  ‘I was going to be,’ Rupert said. ‘Sadly, Abi and I never made it down the aisle.’

  Van leaned forward in his seat, tapping his fingers against the chipped mug.

  Tinsley sipped her tea. ‘Your aunt’s death wasn’t an accident.’ For a minute or so silence hung in the air.

  Finally Ellery spoke. ‘She was murdered?’

  Tinsley nodded. ‘I’m not a big fan of that word, but yes and your father was responsible.’

  ‘What?’ Ellery spat her drink across the room. ‘No, he wasn’t. You’re just saying that so we won’t hate you for taking us away from him and all our friends.’

  So much for Ellery being more reasonable.

  Van sat quietly, turning his mother’s words over in his mind. It didn’t make any sense at all. His father was a great man. He ran a huge corporation and gave buckets of money to charities, and when he wasn’t away working, he played with his kids and took them to the beach and to cricket matches and normal stuff that parents do.

  ‘Tinsley’s telling the truth,’ Rupert said. ‘I have proof.’

  Van glared at his mother. ‘You said that Dad was involved in something else. Something to do with the company.’

  Tinsley nodded. ‘I didn’t know about any of that until right before we left.’

  Van stood up and walked over to the bare fireplace. ‘How do we know that you’re not lying because you and Dad aren’t in love any more and now you’re trying to keep us from him? Parents do that sort of thing sometimes. I mean seriously, Mum. Are you having a nervous breakdown or something? Because this is ridiculous.’

  ‘Your mother’s telling the truth, Van. Your father is a kidnapper and a murderer,’ Rupert said. ‘Sit down. I’m afraid this might take a while.’

  ‘What should we do now?’ Max asked his sister as they scurried up the steps towards the Atlas fountain at the front of the house.

  Kensy was itching to take a spin in the new and improved Esmerelda, but the racetrack was off limits until their grandmother gave express permission. They’d pretty much exhausted every other place they knew they could show Curtis without piquing the boy’s curiosity too much. Although his fascination with the automaton had taken up almost an hour.

  ‘What about we walk out to the lighthouse?’ the girl suggested. She and Max had never properly explored it before and that was something new they could all do together.

  Max checked his watch. It had just gone three and Song had told them at lunch they were due home for dinner at seven. That meant they still had hours to fill in.

  ‘I love lighthouses,’ Curtis said. ‘Does anyone live there?’

  The twins looked at each other and shrugged. ‘I don’t think so – no one’s ever mentioned it,’ Max said. Then again neither of them had ever asked.

  The trio walked around the side of the mansion to the rear garden, which wasn’t quite as formal as the front.

  ‘What’s over the wall?’ Curtis asked, pointing.

  ‘Mim’s greenhouse,’ Max replied, giving Kensy a wink. ‘We’ll take you there another time. She’s pretty particular about us not disturbing her or the plants.’

  Kensy and Max had both agreed that until Curtis was officially part of Pharos they’d leave the greenhouse alone. There were too many odd things that couldn’t be easily explained. The strains of a loud classical piano piece drifted from the building. Mim had recently decided to experiment to see if music had any effect on her produce.

  The children reached a gate in the back wall when they heard a cough. It was coming from behind one of the pencil pines close by.

  ‘It is not as easy as that,’ the voice said. ‘There are many things to consider.’

  Kensy looked at her brother and then at Curtis.

  ‘Is that Song?’ the lad asked.

  ‘Sounds like it,’ Max said.

  ‘Things can be a little explosive at times,’ they heard the man say.

  Song was on a private call and they shouldn’t have been listening in.

  ‘Come on, we’d better get a move on,’ the lad said as he pushed open the squeaky gate and headed along the start of the path that wove towards the cliffs.

  ‘I can’t believe you never told me about this place or that your grandmother is Dame Spencer,’ Curtis said with a shake of his head. ‘You must have thought I was an idiot when I was raving on about her in Sydney. But I suppose it makes sense because she’s a newspaper baroness and if everyone knew you were related, you’d probably be a target for kidnappers – actually do you have bodyguard? Is it Song or Fitz? I suppose Song would be more likely – Fitz is a little on the heavy side, isn’t he?’

  ‘We’re fine, Curtis. We can look after ourselves,’ Kensy said, glancing at her brother. The twins knew very well why they’d kept quiet about their grandmother and her country retreat. Curtis was quite possibly the most curious kid they’d ever met, and at the time they’d been next-door neighbours for a month or so in Sydney, they didn’t think they’d see him again – at least not for a while and probably never in the company of Cordelia.

  The truth was too that Curtis hadn’t ever met the ‘real’ Fitz. When they were in Sydney the man had worn a disguise with a giant belly and facial hair. Like everyone else the twins encountered at the time, Curtis had believed Fitz was their father and a PE teacher
at their school, but when their parents returned, they told the boy the truth or a more-palatable version of it. They’d said that Fitz was actually their dad’s first cousin – correct – and they called him Dad because their parents had been away for a while and they didn’t want to have to explain things about their family – it was a little bit complicated. Curtis hadn’t seemed fazed by the news at all and had met Ed and Anna one afternoon before the family returned to London. Poor Fitz had to keep up the charade until they left, but at least there had been several months for him to have undergone a stunning weight-loss transformation. Hopefully Curtis wouldn’t have too much trouble believing the man had hit the gym with a vengeance.

  The children crunched along the gravel path.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be awesome to have a bodyguard – or at least to be important enough to warrant one?’ Curtis said. ‘Anyway, thanks for inviting me to stay. Mum was so excited when your grandmother called to ask. I thought there was no way she’d let me come to England on my own, but Dad has this big work thing on next week and Mum is busy at the art gallery – they’re really short on guides right now. I think the fact that Dame Spencer said she was sending her private jet to pick me up sealed the deal.’

  Kensy turned to face the boy. ‘Curtis, do you ever stop talking?’ she asked with a glint in her eye.

  For a moment the boy looked wounded. Then he grinned. ‘Are you kidding? We have four and a half months to catch up on and you’ve hardly told me anything about your life in London and up here. Do you come every weekend?’

  Max shook his head. ‘No, usually just in the holidays. Now that it’s summer break we can stay for a while.’

  Curtis Pepper was at Alexandria as a guest of Dame Spencer. Unbeknown to him, the boy was actually on trial to see whether he’d be invited to join the agents-in-training program. His parents were currently undergoing assessment too.