‘And we’re not going to find out,’ Bea said from the doorway.
Tilly and her grandma looked up. They hadn’t noticed her come back in.
‘Oskar’s coming round this evening for a sleepover,’ Bea continued. She turned to Grandma. ‘Mum, can I have a word with you and Dad in the shop?’
Tilly went to protest, but saw something in her mum’s eyes that stopped her in her tracks.
‘I’ll go and get a bed ready,’ she said instead, and Bea gave her a tight smile as she headed back into the bookshop. Tilly and Bea were still getting to know each other, but one thing Tilly knew for sure was that her mum was definitely up to something. And Tilly wanted to find out what it was.
That evening, a few hours after Oskar had arrived, and after a dinner of potato-and-spinach curry, the two friends were chatting on the sofa in front of the fireplace in Pages & Co. There were not many days left before Grandma would clear out the fire and replace it with garlands of fresh flowers, but it still felt cosy and warm for now.
Tilly had started carrying the key from The Secret Garden around with her as if it might suddenly reveal how she was supposed to use it, and was playing with it as they watched the flames dance.
‘Do you have any more idea why you ended up with that?’ Oskar asked, pointing at the key.
‘No,’ said Tilly with a sigh. When she’d spoken to her mum, it had seemed so clear and so logical, but it was hard to maintain her confidence in the clues when it was questioned over and over again by her grandparents, not to mention the Underwoods’ new threat adding even more pressure to what she chose to do. ‘Over Christmas there was so much going on, and I was convinced it all meant something, but now I don’t feel so sure.’
‘There was the key, and that really thin book, and something else, right?’ Oskar asked.
‘The thread,’ Tilly said. ‘The red thread. I just can’t ignore the feeling that they mean something important. I said to my mum that it seems like a treasure map, as though, if I could just work out how all the clues fit together, it would become obvious. But now we can’t even bookwander, and aren’t allowed at the Underlibrary, I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. And Grandma and Grandad are just cross about it all the time, but don’t seem to be actually doing anything to stop the Underwoods.’
‘Can I tell you something weird?’ Oskar said.
‘Of course.’
‘It’s just that I feel more cross about not being allowed to bookwander than not actually bookwandering. Does that make sense?’
‘Kind of,’ Tilly admitted. ‘I wonder if it’s like learning a language or an instrument or something, where if you don’t use it you sort of forget about it. And sometimes I get this bad feeling in my stomach, but I can’t work out what’s causing it.’
‘What a weird six months we’ve had,’ Oskar said. ‘Finding Bea, and going to Paris, and getting lost in fairy tales, and dealing with … what was his name?’
‘Who do you mean?’ Tilly asked. ‘Melville?’
‘No, no,’ Oskar said. ‘There was another man, wasn’t there? I want to say he was the Underwoods’ … butler? He had some kind of … hat? And was there a fire or something? Maybe I’m just getting confused with something I read in a book.’
‘I have no idea who you’re talking about,’ Tilly said. ‘What kind of hat?’
‘A … Do you know, I can’t remember,’ Oskar said. ‘Never mind. I’m obviously mixing him up with some other story. Strange.’
There was a fraction of a second where Tilly thought that maybe she knew what Oskar meant, but the thought vanished as quickly as it had arrived and she shrugged. There were bigger things to worry about. And so they changed the subject to what Jack had been cooking up for the bookshop café, and said no more about the man in the hat or the fire.
illy woke in the middle of the night to Bea’s finger on her lips. It was dark except for the gentle haze of London’s streetlights soaking through the skylight.
‘Is everyone okay?’ Tilly whispered, glancing over at Oskar, who was snoring gently on the air bed in the other corner of the room.
Bea nodded. ‘Do you trust me?’ she asked very quietly, and Tilly didn’t have to think twice. She nodded.
‘I need you to get together some clothes and other bits very quickly and quietly, and I’ll answer all your questions when we’re in the taxi.’
‘The taxi?’ Tilly said, adrenalin coursing through her, ridding her of any traces of sleepiness. ‘I knew you were up to something! Where are we going? What are we doing with Oskar?’
‘He’s coming too,’ Bea said. ‘I spoke to Mary on the phone earlier and arranged everything.’
She went over and gently shook Oskar awake. He grunted in a somewhat undignified way, which Tilly and Bea pretended they didn’t hear.
‘Huh?’ he said, still half asleep. He took in Bea and the dark and sat upright. ‘Ohhh, are we going? Mum said you’d asked if she was happy for me to go on a trip with you, but I didn’t realise it was going to be in the middle of the night. Where are we going?’
He looked at Tilly, who just shrugged.
‘Get dressed in something comfy,’ Bea said, ‘and grab anything you’d want for weather a little warmer than this. Oh, and make sure you have your passport to hand.’
‘My passport?’ Tilly repeated in surprise, and Bea shushed her, looking a little jumpy. ‘I promise I’ll explain in the taxi. But we need to get going.’
‘Do … do Grandma and Grandad know we’re going?’ Tilly asked, but she knew the answer already.
‘It’s time for us to take matters into our own hands,’ Bea said. ‘I’m going to get your toothbrushes, and I want you ready to go in ten minutes.’
Bea crept out of the bedroom, leaving Tilly and Oskar staring at each other.
‘You knew we were going somewhere?’ Tilly said accusingly. ‘And you didn’t say anything all evening!’
‘I thought you knew!’ he said. ‘And anyway Mum just made it sound as though your family might be going to, like, the countryside for a night, not somewhere that needed a passport! Do you think I should text her?’
‘Let’s find out where we’re going before we worry her,’ Tilly said. She was nervous, but she had a feeling this was going to be their one chance and she didn’t want anything getting in the way. They quickly got dressed and Tilly pulled out a few bits of clothing and shoved them into the small wheelie suitcase her mum had put out.
‘Ready to go?’ Bea whispered, her head round the door, holding out a washbag for Tilly to put in her suitcase.
They nodded, fizzing with nervous excitement, and the three of them crept downstairs, through the kitchen, cold in the spring night air, and into the bookshop, which was still and dark around them. Tilly couldn’t help thinking about her grandparents, and how they were going to wake up tomorrow and realise they were gone.
Hopefully, her mum had left them a note.
On the road a car was waiting in the orange puddle of a streetlight. The driver helped Bea put their bags in the boot as they slid into the taxi and it set off, heading west, out of London.