Page 51 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘Don’t hang up on me again,’ Mungo sounded angry.
‘Sorry, Bro,’ Mary replied as the front doorbell rang, ‘but Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Apprentice have just arrived, plus a spaceship full of aliens.’
‘What?’
‘I have to go, I’ll catch you later,’ Mary said and flipped the phone into her pocket.
As she opened the door, her mouth dropped.Standing on the step, dressed as James Bond and looking as handsome as a Hollywood hunk, was Ruari.
‘The invite said, “Come as a Halloween or Superhero character”,’ he grinned. ‘And with my ex-wife away, it’s my weekend to have Orla, so I thought I’d oblige.’ Ruari held the hand of his beautiful six-year-old daughter, who, like her outfit, was angelic. ‘Single parents can scrub up,’ he added, ‘almost as well as you married ones.’
Mary was about to tell Ruari that he’d misunderstood the invitation, and that it was for children not parents. But the sight of so handsome a man made her think that it might be fun to have another adult at the party.
Ruari was studying Mary from head to toe. As his eyes levelled with her own, he said, ‘You’re looking magnificent, Morticia.’
Framed by thick, dark lashes, Ruari’s cobalt blue eyes were as deep as the ocean, and as he stared into hers, Mary had an urge to dive in. Feeling flustered, she threw back the door and stepped to one side. She hadn’t intended to dress as a member of The Addams Family, but took Ruari’s comment as a compliment. She smiled at Orla and ushered her unexpected plus one in.
‘Go through, Orla,’ Mary said as the little girl, gripping a brightly wrapped gift, ran into the house. ‘Declan is the werewolf crawling over the sofa,’ she added.
‘Nice place,’ Ruari said as he strode ahead and walked over to the enormous glass doors that opened to the garden. ‘You have a magnificent view.’
Mary thought her own view was as good as it got as she watched James Bond walk with purposeful steps, like asculpted work of art brought to life. ‘Help yourself to a drink,’ she called out, tearing her eyes away from Ruari as the doorbell rang again. ‘You’ll probably need it.’
As Declan’s guests arrived, a flood of mini-monsters, ghosts, and demons came tearing into the kitchen. Parents, eager to do the drop-off and disappear, waved from behind the wheels of their four-by-fours before driving off at speed. As Mary was about to close the door, a battered old van appeared and parked in front of the house.
‘Oh heck,’ Mary mumbled, ‘Conor will have a fit when he sees a pile of junk littering his driveway.’
The driver, draped in tattered robes, climbed out and moved with a slow, deliberate gait. Strands of silver hair poked out from a hood, and as Mary stood mesmerised, a woman’s face slowly appeared. Her watery eyes were set in a wrinkled face, and crooked fingers of one hand gripped a ragged bag, while the other reached out to take Mary’s.
‘Witchery Wanda?’ Mary asked as she shook the woman’s clammy skin.
‘I am the keeper of ancient knowledge, here to entertain,’ Wanda croaked and edged past Mary. ‘Where are the children?’
‘Go right on through.’ Mary held out an arm. A shiver ran down her spine as the old crone ambled past. With a sudden panic, she wondered if she’d made the right choice of entertainment for the party.
But as Mary closed the door and turned to the children’s screams of horror and delight, she was grateful that Wanda had at least left herbroomstick behind.
Atticus and Ness arrived at the Solma Vacaciones bike shop, and their eyes were drawn to the sign that promised adventure: ‘Bikes for Hire’. Despite the open door and a can of cola on the counter, the shop was eerily quiet. Atticus decided to head to the reception to see if anyone there might help.
To his dismay, the woman he’d encountered before, with square-framed glasses and helmet-style hair, sat silently, studying a computer behind the long counter.
‘Hola,’ Atticus began and stepped forward. Receiving no reply, he tried again. ‘Buenas tardes, er, can you help me?’
‘Sí.’ The woman didn’t look up.
‘Yes? Good. I want to hire a bike.’
‘Shop outside,’ she replied, fingers clicking across a keyboard.
‘Yes, I know. But there’s no one there.’
‘You wait.’
‘How long?’
‘Who knows.’
Atticus struggled to stay civil, but before he could respond, a phone rang. The woman grabbed the receiver and began to speak in loud, rapid Spanish. With a sigh, he turned and, with Ness by his side, walked away.
