Gabriel and the Phantom Sleepers. Jenny Nimmo

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СКАЧАТЬ assistant cook,’ she admitted. ‘Sort of apprentice really, learning on the job. I love cooking. And then, because I live in Meldon, Cook recruited me, so to speak.’ Hetty began to look nervous. ‘This is my first assignment, and I hope I haven’t made a mess of it. I’ve done my best, I’m sure.’

      Uncle Jack was still looking puzzled, so Hetty went on to explain that Cook had gathered together a group of people who could be trusted to watch out for vulnerable children. ‘Not that Gabriel is at all vulnerable,’ she added quickly. ‘But because of his great . . . responsibility, I was chosen to watch out for him, and his bag, of course. His designated companion, Albert Blackstaff, appeared to have deserted him.’

      Uncle Jack stroked his chin and said, ‘I see.’ Gabriel noticed that his uncle looked very pale and anxious.

      ‘I think I am what is called a Guardian,’ said Hetty, now looking rather flustered.

      Sadie suddenly piped up, ‘We should look in Gabriel’s bag. I mean, it is in your bag, isn’t it, Gabe? The great responsibility?’

      ‘The cloak, yes.’ Gabriel put his bag on the table and unzipped it. Everyone watched as he took out his father’s old jacket and unrolled it. There lay the folded cloak, glimmering softly under the kitchen light.

      ‘Wow!’ said Sadie. ‘All that magic lying on our old table.’

      Gabriel grinned. He passed his hand over the velvet and felt – nothing. But it was surely the king’s cloak, just as it had been when his father had folded it into the jacket. ‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘There it is.’ But was it? A chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong. He caught Sadie’s eye. She looked puzzled.

      ‘Thank goodness,’ said Hetty. ‘I thought perhaps I hadn’t been vigilant enough.’

      ‘All’s well, Hetty,’ said Mr Silk, looking very relieved, ‘and thank you for delivering our Gabriel.’

      ‘It was such an – an exciting experience,’ said Hetty beaming, ‘but I must dash now. Dad will be freezing. I’ll be up at Swallow Farm for a while – so if I’m needed . . .’

      ‘We know where to find you,’ said Mr Silk. He saw Hetty to the door and came back holding a black fur hat. ‘She gave me this,’ he said.

      ‘Albert Blackstaff ’s hat!’ Gabriel exclaimed. ‘Hetty put it in her pocket.’

      ‘That man should have told you he was leaving the train,’ said his uncle, frowning. ‘Your father will have something to say about this.’

      Sadie took the hat from her father and hung it in the hall. ‘I’ve cooked your favourite supper,’ she told Gabriel when she came back. ‘But first I want to show you your room.’

      Gabriel laid the cloak carefully in his bag and followed Sadie up the narrow staircase. At the top she led him along a corridor and into the low-ceilinged room he remembered so well. He was unprepared for all the glitter inside, however. Fairy lights hung from the wide oak beams, tinsel decorated the window frames and holly had been slung across the bed’s headboard.

      ‘Wow!’ said Gabriel.

      ‘It’s still Christmas,’ Sadie explained.

      ‘It looks great.’ Gabriel put his bag on the bed.

      Sadie grinned and flicked her long pigtail over her shoulder. ‘I’ll go and warm up the casserole.’

      ‘Can you wait a minute?’ Gabriel drew the cloak out of his bag. ‘Something’s not right.’

      Sadie hovered in the doorway. ‘Not right?’

      ‘Sometimes, when I’m feeling a bit down,’ said Gabriel, ‘I put the cloak on. Dad doesn’t mind. And the cloak always changes my mood.’

      ‘Do you feel like the king is there, with you?’ Sadie hesitated. ‘I know you can sometimes become other people when you put on their clothes. But the king? That would be amazing.’

      ‘Sometimes I see him, but mostly I just feel a great happiness. Not an ordinary happiness, but something very, very powerful.’ As he said this Gabriel drew the cloak around his shoulders. ‘Oh, Sadie,’ he groaned, ‘it’s gone. There’s nothing – nothing.’

      Sadie pulled back her pigtail and regarded it with a thoughtful expression, almost as though it were giving her ideas. ‘Maybe it was the journey,’ she suggested. ‘All that shaking about and travelling so far from where the cloak has been living.’

      ‘But I don’t feel anything, Sadie. The cloak looks just the same but . . .’ he hesitated. ‘I can’t reach its power. I . . . I can’t sense anything.’

      ‘Then perhaps it’s you,’ Sadie suggested.

      Gabriel was silent. Not once, since he was four years old, had he ever lost his seventh sense. He had often wished to be free of it, but now, when it was so vital to know what had happened to the cloak, had his seventh sense abandoned him?

      ‘To tell the truth, it does seem a bit – not quite itself, if you know what I mean,’ Sadie admitted.

      Gabriel nodded dumbly.

      ‘Come and have some supper,’ Sadie suggested. ‘You’ll feel better after you’ve had some food, and then you can try again.’

      ‘OK,’ Gabriel said uneasily. He laid the cloak carefully on his bed

      ‘By the way, if you think Dad’s a bit down, it’s Cecily, the sorceress. She swooped in on us at dawn this morning.’

      ‘Not the awful stepmother?’ said Gabriel, deeply sympathetic. ‘And was Septimus the septic mouse with her?’

      Sadie nodded. ‘And brother dog. Come on, let’s forget them.’

      Mr Silk had returned to his workroom, but when he smelled cooking he came back into the kitchen. ‘Cold weather always makes you extra hungry,’ he said.

      Sadie’s casserole was as delicious as usual, but Gabriel couldn’t enjoy it because of a nagging worry about the cloak. Halfway through the meal he decided to try to contact his parents.

      ‘Bad signal here,’ said his uncle. ‘Try the landline when you’ve finished your supper.’

      Gabriel bolted down the last chunk of chicken and then phoned his father’s mobile. No answer. He tried his aunt’s house and one of his cousins picked up the receiver – the youngest, by the sound of it. When Gabriel asked to speak to his mother the little voice chirped, ‘Your mum is having a crisis!’

      ‘Crisis?’ Gabriel said hoarsely. ‘What d’you mean crisis?’

      ‘It’s bad,’ said the squeaky voice.

      Gabriel’s stomach lurched. ‘I want to speak to my mum, Annie!’

      ‘I’m Alice.’ She sounded offended.

      ‘Well, Alice, PLEASE can you get –’

      The receiver must have been snatched out of Alice’s СКАЧАТЬ