Page 17 of Secrets and Seashells at Rainbow Bay
‘Whatareyou doing, anyway?’ I ask, hoping to show interest.
‘I’m . . . ’ She stares at Arthur and flushes. ‘I’m . . . well, you see, it’s a bit quiet today, and Dorothy said if ever I got all my work done it was okay to use the computer for . . . well . . . personal stuff.’
‘What sort of personal stuff?’ Arthur barks, glaring at her. ‘And Dorothy has no business interfering in what goes on in here; the office is not her jurisdiction.’
Tiffany glances at the screen in the very second it changes to the screen saver, but not before I’ve had time to see the words, ‘ . . . your ideal match is . . . ’
‘I see no harm if Tiffany has got all her work done,’ I say, hoping to dilute Arthur’s anger a tad. ‘As long as she’s alwayssafeabout what she’s doing . . . ’ I wink at Tiffany.
‘Hmm, well, I’m sure I could find you some work to be getting on with,’ Arthur says gruffly. ‘There’s always something that wants polishing.’
‘Dorothy says there’s a lot of things that need polishing,’ Tiffany pipes up. ‘I’m happy to help,’ she says to me now, ‘but Dorothy says I’m dangerous with a duster. Too many things get broken when I’m around.’
I smile at Tiffany.
‘Let me get settled in and we’ll have to find someone to help Dorothy dust and polish. This castle is too big for one person to clean on their own.’
‘More staff?’ Arthur asks. ‘We’ll need more money before we can hire more staff. I wasn’t going to mention this to you today, but we will need to go through the books together sometime. I’m afraid they don’t make for pleasant reading.’
‘Of course, that’s not a problem. We’ll need to do a good deal more than go through the books, though, Arthur. My intention is to make this castle a profitable and successful business in the future. I have a background in economics,’ I add, hoping this might add a little gravitas to my statement. ‘And I have run my own small business before.’
‘Yes . . . ’ Arthur says, sounding less than convinced. ‘I’m sure that will come in very handy.’
‘Right, perhaps we should leave Tiffany to her . . . well, herendeavours, and see the rest of the castle now.’ I look around the office for Charlie. ‘Where’s Charlie?’ I ask, spinning around. This office is far too small for him to be hiding somewhere.
The other two look around them. ‘I don’t think he’s here,’ Tiffany says vacantly.
‘Ya think?’ I snap, beginning to panic now. ‘Charlie!’ I call. ‘Charlie, where are you? Where has my son gone?’ I ask, fear spreading rapidly through me. ‘Charlie!’ I call desperately again.
But there’s no answer.
Eight
‘Don’t fret, miss,’ Arthur says confidently when we’ve checked the corridor and nearby rooms. ‘He can’t come to much harm here. We’ll soon find him.’
‘He can’t come to much harm?’ I reply, my eyes wide. ‘He’s a ten-year-old boy in a huge great castle! There must be hundreds of ways he could come to harm!’
‘Ah yes, you could be right,’ Arthur says, considering this. ‘Don’t you worry, though; we’ll get right on it.’ Arthur pulls out his walkie-talkie.
‘Is there another way out of this office?’ I ask Tiffany, looking wildly around me.
‘Yes, there’s a door behind that plant over there,’ Tiffany says, leading me over to a tall pot plant in a colourful ceramic bowl. ‘We don’t use it any more, though; that’s why it’s behind the plant.’
‘Where does it go?’ I ask, pulling on the door handle. There’s just enough of a gap behind the plant to pull the door ajar. And just enough for Charlie to slide through without being noticed.
‘It leads to the old servants’ quarters,’ Tiffany says, pulling the plant aside so we can open the door wider. She follows me out into a dark corridor. ‘I think there might be a staircase there that leads down to the big kitchen somewhere too.’
‘Have you got a torch on your phone?’ I ask her. ‘Er . . . mine’s broken at the moment.’
The truth is my basic phone isn’t fancy enough to have a torch.
‘It’s okay, there’s electricity through most of the castle. It was put in in the 1920s.’ I hear a satisfying click as Tiffany pulls on an old Bakelite switch, and some rudimentary bulbs hanging from the ceiling light our way.
We dash along the bare corridor, opening doors along the way and calling Charlie’s name, but all we find are rooms filled with junk, boxes and bits of old furniture. Finally, we reach a set of stone stairs that seem to go on for ever until finally we reach a flagstoned floor and yet another corridor, this one even more dingy than the last.
‘Which way now?’ I ask Tiffany.
‘I don’t know. We’re never allowed down here. Arthur always says it’s out of bounds.’
