Free The Mystery of Wickworth Manor by Elen Caldecott

going to be hard enough to make the world as it really was without bringing ancient history into it.
    ‘I saw the World last night, do you remember?’ Paige shoved his tissue out of the way and dropped scissors and glue on to the table. ‘In the cards?’
    ‘Yes.’ Curtis reached to get his tissue paper back.
    ‘I thought it might mean something about the Boy travelling. I didn’t think it meant this. Do you want to make a bit of the Atlantic with me?’
    ‘He might have travelled. I went to the library yesterday. I didn’t have a chance to tell you. I was too busy –’
    ‘Ignoring me?’ Paige interrupted.
    ‘Well, yes, I suppose so. Sorry.’
    ‘It’s all right. I was ignoring you too. Pass me some blue.’
    Curtis pushed the pile of paper back towards her. ‘He might have come from the West Indies. Even Africa, maybe. He might have been a slave.’
    ‘Slaves? In Britain? I didn’t think there were any here. I thought it was, I dunno, a foreign thing.’
    ‘Yes, there were slaves here. I want to find out if he was one.’
    ‘Were your family slaves? Do you think that’s why he’s trying to communicate with us?’
    Curtis turned to face Paige. She was busy overlapping paper and hadn’t noticed that he’d stopped. ‘What?’ he asked.
    ‘You know. He might see you as a kindred spirit, or something.’
    ‘My mum’s parents are from Nigeria.’
    ‘Were they slaves?’
    ‘Of course not. If anything, their family might have been slave traders. Some Nigerians were ages ago.’
    ‘Ooh,’ Paige looked up. Her eyes shone. ‘So your family might have sold him into slavery. He might be after revenge.’
    ‘You are completely mental, do you know that?’ Curtis picked up a piece of tissue paper and started hacking at it with his scissors. ‘You’re a classic fantasist. You don’t let facts get in the way of your vision of the world, do you? I shouldn’t be encouraging you. I should get you some professional help.’
    ‘Are you teasing me again?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Oh.’
    Neither of them said anything for a while. Paige clipped carefully; she was making a pattern that reminded Curtis of fish scales. His was more, well, avant garde.
    ‘You’re doing it wrong,’ Paige said eventually.
    ‘I’m making Art. You’re just doing craft.’
    ‘Yours looks a mess.’
    ‘It’s meant to. It represents climate chaos, over-fishing, pollution, that sort of thing.’
    ‘You just don’t know how to cut tissue paper properly.’
    ‘I do, but I’m choosing not to.’
    ‘Now who’s the fantasist? So, how are we going to find out? I mean whether he was a slave or not?’
    Curtis put down his scissors. ‘I don’t know. More research, I suppose. We need to go back to the library.’
    ‘Libraries are boring,’ Paige said. ‘I’ve got a much better idea.’

Chapter 21

    ‘Libraries aren’t boring,’ Curtis said. ‘The one here is nice.’
    ‘Nice? You’re weird, you know that? Listen, after this we’ve got a break. Then dinner. Then canoeing. I’ve got an idea we can try at breaktime.’
    ‘Why do I feel worried? Oh yes, because your last brilliant idea saw me standing in Mrs Burton-Jones’s room apologising.’
    ‘Don’t be like that. This one isn’t going to get us into any trouble.’
    Curtis picked up their pile of snipped paper and carried it towards the centre of the room, where Mr Appleton was supervising the gluing. Paige followed.
    ‘What’s your idea?’ he asked.
    She grinned. She knew he’d come around. ‘Dowsing.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘My mum uses it when she’s lost something. What you do is, you take two sticks and you hold them in front of you. Then, when you’re close to the thing you’re looking for, they cross.’
    ‘Oh, I know. People do it when they’re looking for water. Actually, I think there is some kind of scientific basis for that, it’s something to do with ions –’
    Oh, Curtis was so annoying. Paige sighed dramatically. ‘Yes. But it doesn’t have to