CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A Visitor in the Night

Even though Milli and Ernest were shivering when they helped each other clamber back through Ernest’s bedroom window, they had something more important than the cold on their minds—the time. It was so late, they knew they were unlikely to escape without some serious questioning by their parents. What they weren’t expecting was to find both their mothers lying in wait for them.

Mrs Perriclof leapt out of her chair, bundled Ernest into a dressing gown and felt his forehead, but Mrs Klompet stared at her daughter with her arms folded. There was relief in her face but not enough to obliterate the disappointment. When she spoke her words came out slightly wooden, the way they sometimes do when parents have had too much time to think about what they want to say. She sounded as though she was reading out the instructions on the back of a cake mix packet.

‘Milli, I regret to inform you that you are grounded until further notice. You will be escorted to and from school each day as you are clearly not ready for independence. You are both incredibly selfish children to make your parents worry about you like this. Now, get into the car. Your father and Dorkus must be frantic by now.’

‘We have a very good reason—’ began Milli.

‘I don’t wish to hear explanations,’ interrupted her mother, raising her hand the way a traffic officer might.

‘How could you be so thoughtless?’ added Ernest’s mother. ‘Going out in the middle of winter so flimsily dressed. I’m going downstairs immediately to get you both a spoonful of my Fortifying Fish-Tail Tonic.’

‘I think the occasion calls for a ladleful,’ said a stern-faced Mrs Klompet.

Milli could hardly bear the tedium of the next few days. She marvelled at Ernest’s ability to focus on his lessons when she could do nothing but relive their experiences in the arcade over and over in her mind. Everything else happening around her was a blur. She barely noticed when Mr Sparks set alight a manila folder full of their lab reports whilst attempting to demonstrate the use of a Bunsen burner. She didn’t jump back with the others when Articulus Barnes, their elocution master, spat on them during a speech designed to display the power of rhetoric. Nor did she did register why everyone cheered in PE when Gummy Grumbleguts managed to complete the obstacle course without falling into his usual hyperventilating heap. The accumulation of knowledge seemed pointless when the lives of her friends were at stake. What did it matter what the latitudinal position of Trinidad was, or how to calculate the square root of X, if Von Gob Toys died out? On the other hand, Milli knew that she must go about her daily life as normal or risk exposing everything and putting the toys in even graver danger. For once she would have to be patient.

Things were strained at home and it troubled her that a note of suspicion had crept into her parents’ conversations with her. Milli didn’t want to lose their trust, and hoped that once the truth was known she would be forgiven.

At dinner that evening, Milli pushed her Potato and Pumpkin Mash around her plate and made little peaks in it with her fork. Rosie laid down her knife and fork and looked inquiringly at her daughter.

‘Not hungry?’

‘No, it’s great,’ said Milli, shovelling a large forkful into her mouth. The food seemed to stick in her throat and she had to swallow a gulp of Beetroot Cider to wash it down. Crispy Cod Bake with Potato and Pumpkin Mash was normally one of her favourite meals, but tonight she couldn’t enjoy it. The food tasted like glue.

Nonna Luna, who was having dinner with the Klompets, looked at Milli with concern. ‘Whatta da matta?’ she asked. ‘You tella Nonna. Nonna fixa for you.’

‘It’s nothing, Nonna,’ Milli mumbled. ‘I’ve just got a lot on at school.’

‘Well, it’s not going to get any easier,’ Dorkus put in unhelpfully. ‘The older you get the harder it becomes.’

‘As if you’d know,’ Milli replied, a little too spitefully.

‘Milli’s too young to be fretting so much about school work and grades,’ said Mr Klompet. ‘She still needs to have fun. Never mind about studies—there’re years ahead to think of all that.’

‘Milli does nothing but have fun!’ protested Rosie. ‘She’s in first year of senior school now and it’s time to knuckle down. As Miss Linear never fails to observe, the study habits formed this year are the ones that will stand you in good stead in years to come. Milli has the potential to pursue whatever career she chooses if she applies herself now.’

‘She’s thirteen, darling heart,’ said Mr Klompet, winking at his daughter.

‘My point exactly,’ said Milli’s mother. ‘Very soon she’ll be an adult. ‘It’s time she assumed some responsibility.’

‘What would you know about responsibility?’ Milli snapped. ‘All of you are useless! This is the only town in the world that could let a hundred children be kidnapped all at once.’

‘Stoppa!’ Nonna Luna cut in. ‘Milli, no speaka like dat to your mama.’

Rosie looked hurt but Milli couldn’t bring herself to apologise. Why couldn’t the adults of this town do some of the hard work for once? Why was it always up to the children to save the day? Still, Milli knew in her heart how unfair her criticisms were. After all, it had been her own mother who had expressed caution about the circus until she’d been worn down by the children’s persistence.

The meal continued in uncomfortable silence. Milli couldn’t even bring herself to be civil to Nonna Luna, whose company she usually delighted in. Nonna looked very downcast when Milli declined a slice of her homemade tiramisu, but Milli was too distracted to notice. She went to bed early and, despite the warmth of several patterned quilts, couldn’t warm up. The cold filtered like unseen fingers under the door and around the windows where the putty had come loose. Milli found herself lying awake, gazing at the shapes the light from a full moon cast on her ceiling. Her body was tired but her mind simply wouldn’t switch off.

The glow of her star-shaped night-light (a present for her third birthday) didn’t provide its usual comfort. Milli hadn’t slept with the night-light on for some time, but had started using it again since meeting the toys. Images of Hack Ward, kept at bay during the day, always surfaced at this time. Not that the night-light was much help. If it was the dark she was trying to avoid, it’d be fine, but it was her own imagination that was the problem. Right now Milli was imagining the wardrobe door being pushed open by the creature that lurked inside, as well as faces appearing at the window. She gave up and stuck her head under the pillow to escape the show.

When Milli finally did doze off, she felt as if she’d been asleep no more than five minutes before a sound woke her. At first she thought it was the remnant of a dream and ignored it, but it continued. If she wasn’t mistaken there was something tapping at the window. The tapping stopped and Milli turned over; then it resumed —tap, tap, tap against the glass. Milli sat bolt upright and stared at the window. There was no one there, only her own image reflected back at her. She remembered what Lucy Carver from school had told her about witches and other dark creatures being attracted by the glow of night-lights and shivered. It was then she heard the voice.

‘Let me in,’ it begged. ‘It’s freezing out here!’

Milli scrambled out of bed and pressed her nose against the glass. There outside, falling snow already forming a white mantle on his shoulders, was Loyal the rocking horse. She flung the window open and helped him inside. He was shivering from cold so she threw a rug over him, and rubbed his caramel head while she waited for his teeth to stop chattering.

‘How did you get here?’ she asked him.

‘On my rockers, of course. But I took a few wrong turns. Your little town may be charming but it is very badly signposted!’

‘But why are you here? Has something happened?’

‘I am afraid I do have bad news,’ Loyal puffed. ‘Theo sent me as soon as he found out.’

‘Found out what?’

Loyal started to answer but broke off suddenly, his ears pricking up. ‘Shhh! Someone’s coming!’

Sure enough, within seconds the handle of the bedroom door turned and Rosie poked her head into Milli’s room. She had gone to bed a little rattled by her daughter’s mood at dinner and wanted to check on her. Loyal had just enough time to swing himself into a corner and stand stock-still, which was hard as he had a sudden urge to sneeze.

‘Is everything all right?’ Rosie asked. ‘I thought I heard noises.’

‘Just me walking around because I can’t sleep,’ Milli said, happy not to have to rely on another lie.

‘Would a Face Trace help, do you think?’ suggested Rosie thoughtfully.

Milli sensed in her mother a desire to make peace and couldn’t reject the offer.

‘It might,’ she said. ‘I’m feeling sleepier now.’

Her mother smiled and moved closer to the bed. ‘I’m sorry we argued before,’ she said. ‘I know I’m not always patient and my expectations are sometimes unrealistic. It’s just that this family doesn’t need any more adventures just now. Agreed?’

‘Agreed,’ said Milli, feigning a yawn.

Rosie sat on the edge of the bed and stroked the top of Milli’s head.

‘Now, ready for that Face Trace?’

Milli nodded.

‘Okay, then, eyes closed.’

A Face Trace (for those who have never experienced one) was Milli’s favourite thing as a child when she couldn’t drift off to sleep. It involved her mother tracing the outline of the features on her face with a fingertip and listing each of them each in turn, ‘Eyebrows, eyelids, eyelashes…’, and it was so soothing that sleep usually came quickly.

‘Goodnight, then,’ said Rosie, once she had finished.

‘Night, Mum, and thanks,’ said Milli.

Rosie was just leaving when she spotted the rocking horse. ‘Where did that come from?’ she said in surprise. ‘I’ve never seen it before.’

‘Prop for school play,’ mumbled Milli. ‘Got him from an op shop. Ernest’s idea.’

Rosie seemed satisfied with this and gently closed the door behind her. As soon as she’d gone, Milli sat up. She saw that Loyal was glaring at her.

‘I may be old, but I am certainly not op shop material,’ he said huffily.

‘Keep your voice down,’ Milli hissed. ‘It was all I could think of. Now please tell me what’s going on.’

Loyal’s face clouded over and his eyes went misty. ‘It’s Pascal,’ he said with a lump in his throat. ‘She’s gone missing.’

‘Are you sure?’ asked Milli, feeling her stomach tighten. ‘She sometimes goes off on her own to mope, doesn’t she?’

‘No, she’s really gone this time,’ Loyal answered. ‘She’s been particularly down of late and spoke of rejoining her friends in the arcade. We suspect that’s what she’s done. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to impose the ideals of the Resistance on her when she wasn’t ready, but now she may have put herself in real danger.’

‘What do we do?’ Milli asked. Even if Pascal was naive and foolish, Milli couldn’t bear the idea of her falling into the hands of the Botchers. The very thought made her dizzy with fear.

‘There is only one thing to do,’ replied Loyal. ‘We must find Pascal before they do. Put something warm on and climb on my back.’

Milli had just enough time to pull on her sheepskin boots and a fleecy dressing gown before hopping on Loyal’s smooth back. Loyal navigated his way around the camellias in the front garden and onto the icy street. He moved lightly and carried Milli’s weight with surprising ease. After a few simple directions they turned into Bauble Lane.

Ernest, who was a deep sleeper, proved more difficult to rouse and only when Milli’s tapping on his window turned to thumping did he wake with a jolt and tumble onto the floor. Even after he’d opened his window, invited them in and wrapped himself in his dressing gown, he was still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

‘Who’s gone where?’ he mumbled.

‘We have to go now,’ Milli emphasised. ‘I’ll explain on the way.’

It was an exhilarating ride, zigzagging their way through cobbled streets on Loyal’s sturdy back, the night air stinging their cheeks. The rocking horse used the children’s weight to propel himself forward and skied along swiftly on his polished rockers. The wind freed Milli’s hair from its ribbons so that it streamed behind her. Ernest, fearing they would run into a hedge or picket fence at any moment, kept his head buried in Milli’s back.

‘Ernest, look!’ Milli said, poking his ribs so he had to open his eyes. There was the night sky sprinkled with stars and the soft snow starting to swirl like a shawl around them. Even Ernest had to admit it was quite a sight.

Captain Pluck, Theo and Von Gobstopper were waiting for them in the underground headquarters. Captain Pluck, who had never had much sympathy for Pascal, was having difficulty curbing his criticism.

‘Foolish doll!’ he burst out when the children arrived. ‘Flighty, air-headed twit! Should have known she’d jeopardise everything.’

‘That isn’t going to help,’ Theo reminded him. ‘Besides, Pascal hasn’t jeopardised anything. She simply made a choice to leave.’ Although his voice was level and calm, his muddy brown eyes gave him away—they couldn’t mask his distress over their missing compatriot. ‘Pascal may have done a stupid thing but she is one of us and we have to help her.’

‘I don’t know what we can do,’ objected Captain Pluck, ‘without putting us all at risk. Strategically, it doesn’t make sense.’

Their argument was cut short by Fritz’s arrival. His face was pinched as he greeted the children.

‘It’s too late,’ he said. ‘I’ve been up to the arcade and looked everywhere. Pascal’s not there. She must have been taken during the last round-up.’

A gloomy silence followed. Then Von Gobstopper jumped resolutely to his feet.

‘Too many of my creations have disappeared into that basement never to return,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to let that happen to Pascal. I’m going to find her.’

‘Uncle, calm down,’ pleaded Fritz, taking him gently by the arm. ‘You’re not strong enough yet. You stay here with Pluck. The children and I will go and find her.’

‘I would have thought my military experience might be put to better use,’ objected the toy soldier.

‘What better use than to guard my uncle?’ Fritz retorted. ‘Only the most heroic of us could be trusted with such a job.’

Captain Pluck was immediately appeased. He stood to attention, indicating that his guard duties had already begun.

‘I know my way around—we’ll be back with her in no time,’ Fritz reassured his uncle.

Von Gobstopper, a little shaky from the exertion of leaping to his feet, had no choice but to acquiesce to his nephew’s instruction. Fritz affectionately draped a rug around the old man’s knees.

‘How will we find her?’ Ernest asked.

‘If she was part of the last round-up, we know exactly where to find her.’