Relief washed over Sammy’s face as she exhaled and said, “Follow me.”
Sammy left the bar to an older man further down to handle and led Ellie through the side door and down the corridor adorned with the mural honouring the Meadow Company, another extension of the museum, thanks to Meadowfield’s Historical Society. They entered the kitchen, where Sammy made her way to the pantry. From behind the boxes up high, she pulled out a tatty cardboard box and removed the lid to reveal the tops of twelve stainless steel tins. With her pointed nails, she pried the tin tops away, revealing them to be a single sheet of moulded plastic.
“Amazing what you can buy online,” Sammy joked, a nervous smile playing on her lips as the false top came away. “I thought Edmund would get a kick out of it.”
Ellie stared at the final piece of Edmund’s manuscript, her mind reeling from the revelation. She’d found the princess, and the princess had led her straight to the slain dragon’s cave of treasures. Sammy gently lifted it from the box, her eyes shining with reverence as she hugged it close.
“I’ve always been such a big fan of Edmund’s work,” Sammy began, her voice soft with admiration. “I’d borrow them from the library after I saw them in the local section, and I think I declared I’d only ever read local authors again.” She giggled, a hint of nostalgia peppering the sound. “It took all my strength not to fangirl over the great Edmund Blackwood when he walked into my pub. The Drowsy Duck was always his local when my aunt was running this place, but two weeks after she handed me the keys, he chose to give my pub a chance. I wanted to grab him and tell him how much I loved him, but… I made sure to be respectful. That’s how I wanted to run things here. Different from my aunt. So, I served him his malt Scotch from my best bottle, told him it was on the house, and I left him alone. He’d sit in that armchair by the fire,” she said, staring through the wall as though she could see him now. “I think I saw you in that chair the other day. He’d sit there and people would always move for him, and I’d tell them to if they didn’t know that was his chair. People would leave him alone, he wouldn’t say much, and then he’d leave. That first time, he left the exact change for the drink on the table and an extra pound, and that’s how we did things. Every time, I gave him a drink on the house, and every time he paid.”
“That’s sweet,” Ellie said, touched by the story. “Of both of you.”
“Yeah.” Sammy’s fingers traced the edges of the manuscript as she continued, “I suppose that was our thing. I never asked him about his books, and it turned out, he knew I was a big fan all along. I’d written to him when I was a child, telling him how much his books scared me.” A smile played on Sammy’s lips as she recalled the memory. “He wrote back, telling me I was far too young to be reading his books, and along with it, a copy of Mindless, with a note telling me was his favourite. I already knew that, but for him to do that for me. Can you believe it?”
“It sounds like Edmund could be a generous man.”
“He was.” Ellie watched as Sammy clutched the manuscript one
last time before holding it out to her. “He came in two years ago, muttering about riddles and reminding me of that letter I sent to him as a nine-year-old fan. Apparently, as much as he didn’t like how she ran this place, he knew my aunt of old. She was the one who gave him the letter—turns out there were no stamps. And even as an adult, I’d never noticed that detail. I still have that letter.” As Ellie reached for the manuscript, Sammy added, “He said he liked that I never bothered him and let his quiet local be his quiet local. That’s all it took for him to trust me. How simple is that? I could have been anyone.”
“The more I learn about Edmund, the more I believe he was a good judge of character. People around here seem to like you, and I can’t see why he wouldn’t too.”
Ellie’s hands trembled as Sammy relinquished the manuscript. She clutched it close, feeling a surge of excitement at this second chance for answers. However, instead of diving in immediately, she carefully placed it back in the box.
“Would you mind if I borrowed this?” Ellie asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sammy shook her head. “Keep it. There’s nothing to hide now.”
Gratitude washed over Ellie. “Thank you. Is there any chance I could sneak out through the fire exit?”
Sammy nodded. “Of course. I’ll ask Daniel to meet you out front.”
Ellie slipped out the back, her heart racing as she made her way around the pub. The beer garden stretched alongside Blackwood House’s imposing wall. As she emerged onto the road, she noticed the police were still swarming the area. DS Cookson’s gaze briefly met hers, flicking to the box before turning away. Ellie held her breath, hurrying past to where Daniel was waiting for her under the string lights.
“I need to find a UV light,” she said urgently. “There’s one at Blackwood House, but that’s no good.”
Daniel’s brow furrowed. “You mean like a glow-in-the-dark light? I know where to find one.”
Without further explanation, he set off across the green, and trusting those purposeful strides, Ellie clung to the box like her life depended on it.
Chapter 24Washing Away the Ink
The sound of Ellie’s footsteps echoed around the narrow corridors of Meadowfield Primary. The school was tiny, with multiple age groups crammed together in small classrooms, half empty in Ellie’s memories. She was sure the old place looked just as she remembered it, but she didn’t have time to stop and take it all in.
“I swear it was in here,” Daniel said as he rummaged through a cupboard filled with rubber mats and nets filled with basketballs. “I put it in here. Nobody ever organises this cupboard…” He strained, his hand closing around something, but he pulled out a roll of wallpaper. Tossing it to the side, he moved further in and continued, “The previous headmaster went on a course that promoted letting kids choose their own rewards. We let them vote for their end-of-year disco, and they overwhelmingly voted to have a ‘glow paint rave’. Of course, the staff and the governors were horrified at the idea, so we refused and offered alternatives—jungle themed... a foam party, even.” He glanced over his shoulder at her with an amused twinkle as he reached further in. “Do you remember when the school was trying to throw away those old library books?”
His smile grew, as did Ellie’s. She hadn’t thought about that protest in years. Little Ellie Swan kicking up such a fuss that she even had teachers joining the sit-in around the giant yellow skip. It only took a few hours for the headmaster to order the skip to be emptied.
“We came to the agreement they could donate them to my gran’s shop,” Ellie said. “It ended up being more than she could handle, but my gran took them anyway. Neither of us could bear to see them destroyed.”
“Well, your protest worked,” he said, grunting as he stretched the furthest it seemed he could. “That’s what these kids did. When we tried to force the foam, they put down their pencils. Classroom after classroom. It was inspiring to see them realise they could.”
“Did you let them have their rave?”
“Like I said, it was terrifying.” He pulled something out with one final grunt. “The head was googling ‘how to throw a paint party for kids health and safety’ within the hour, and the compromise became calling it a ‘party’ and anyone who called it a ‘rave’ wasn’t allowed to attend. And since we bought all the stuff and filled out all the paperwork, every year, this place lights up.”
He showed off the black light, which looked similar to the one James had had.
“We need a plug,” Ellie said. “Where’s the nearest?”
“In the middle.”
She rushed forward, knowing where he meant on instinct, and flipped two metal covers over in the wood tiles to reveal two plugs in the middle. Daniel plugged in the black light but didn’t turn it on. Finger on the switch, Ellie asked, “Remember Josh Jones sticking his finger in the plughole in the middle of the Christmas assembly?”
Daniel bit his lip at the memory and looked up. “I can still see how far he flew. In my mind, it was almost to the ceiling, but it can’t have been.”
“No,” Ellie said, “I think it was.”
They laughed as he turned the light on, and a strange hum filled the air as a blue light glowed in a way that made Ellie feel like she shouldn’t be looking at it.
“Every year we told the kids not to touch it, and every year at least two ended up getting the shock of their lives. So, the book,” he said, nodding down to the box at Ellie’s feet. “I’m not going to lie, I’m dying to know what this is all about.”
“Choose your words more carefully around these books next time,” she said as she shimmied off the lid and then the fake top. “People have a habit of dying whenever they get close to the treasures of Edmund’s riddles.”
Ellie unboxed the manuscript with trembling hands, her heart racing as the pages immediately began to glow under the black light. She lifted the delicate pages of the final third carefully and saw intricate detailed notes sprawling the pages like silvery tattoos. Notes and annotations that the naked eye couldn’t see.
Moving the light closer, she read aloud, “Remember to mention that line about her waitress backstory here. Will help the scene.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Anne said he liked to use invisible pens. Why on his own work, though?”
“To keep his notes secret?”
