yell like a crazy man as she and Thea drove past, and they would both yell, ‘Yoo-hoo!’ back – at the top of their lungs – then he would climb in and sometimes tickle Evangeline until she begged for mercy. Darius was red-haired and wild. One time he had Mickey Mouse ears on and Thea had gunned the car right past him, fast, and that had made them all laugh till they wept, watching him race up the drive behind them, trying to catch up with the stupid old mouse ears on his head.
They’d put the ears on Patrick later, for a photo, and then on baby Lincoln, too. Evangeline had the photos of Lincoln and Patrick wearing the ears stuck in the wallet of her school bag.
No one yelled, ‘Yoo-hoo!’ today, though. The drive to Evangeline’s house was blocked with cars and the iron gates were hanging wide open. Was there a party? Miss Starmount pulled on the handbrake and got out to look. Evangeline watched her bottom wobble as she walked from the car and back again.
‘Come with me,’ she said, holding out her hand.
They squeezed past the cars and up the drive. Something was badly wrong. Patrick should have got her scent by then because he had been a hunting dog in his youth and could still smell familiar flesh a mile off. Maybe all the cars had scared him off. Miss Starmount snagged her skirt on a fender and tutted.
The big old house that was Evangeline’s home gleamed in the late afternoon sun. The summer before Saul Peterson had taken time off tending his cranberries to paint the whole place afresh and he had done it all white with black shutters, which was the old colonial style, according to Darius, who knew a thing or two about local history – maybe more than old Saul himself. You couldn’t see much gleam today, though, for all the people that were standing about outside.
The front door of the house was open, which was strange. Miss Starmount looked quickly down at Evangeline and her expression changed to one of embarrassment. There were blue lights everywhere and blue ribbons around the porch. They pushed on closer but a policeman stopped them. Miss Starmount whispered something into the man’s ear and they had a conversation, and then she let go of Evangeline’s hand and gave her an odd sort of look. So did the policeman.
People had begun to turn and stare. Someone held a camera out and a flash went off in Evangeline’s face, then everyone started pushing.
Things were wrong – really wrong. It was then that the small speck of fear in Evangeline’s throat started to grow out suddenly until it was choking her and, without knowing what she was doing or worrying whether it would scare anyone, Evangeline Klippel threw back her head and howled her longest, loudest-ever howl.
Cape Cod
Grandma Klippel made Miss Starmount look like the Sugar Plum Fairy. It wasn’t that she was bigger, exactly – or that she was uglier, either – but if it had come to a frowning and squinting competition then Grandma Klippel’s expression would have won the cup hands down every time.
The first thing Evangeline had to learn about her grandma was that she was rich – richer than Croesus – and then some. Grandma Klippel was so rich she’d even had holes put in her ears so she could hang her diamonds from them. She was nothing like her son Darius, who would wear baggy-kneed trousers and washed-out t-shirts. Darius had money, even Evangeline knew that, but Grandma Klippel was something else again.
She was smart, with perfect stockings and a buttoned-up cardigan, and she looked taller than she was. She had pale powdery skin on her face and freckled skin on her arms. Her teeth looked false but good, like a row of cultured pearls.
Evangeline had been Lincoln’s age when her grandmother last paid a visit, so there was no way she could recognize the old lady who arrived at the house and insisted on taking her off. Nor did she realize exactly how far away ‘off’ was. If she had done she would have fought to the death to stay right there in Boston until her parents got home and explained the joke.
It had to be a joke. They would never have left her there otherwise. It had taken her a while to realize – at first she had even been frightened – but once she cottoned on to the prank she had laughed until her eyes watered. It was a hoot, all right. They were hiding from her, waiting for her to find them.
Darius loved playing tricks and he’d fooled her many times in the past. This was a good one, though – the best. She just wanted him to get on with it and jump out from where he was hiding. She didn’t mind losing, just this once, but she wished they’d come out, that was all.
Evangeline had supposed they’d all be lurking somewhere in the house. She’d wandered off to hunt for them but a policeman had stopped her and taken her downstairs.
‘Where are you off to?’ he’d used the sort of kind tone people who have no kids of their own use when they talk to children. Evangeline had stared at him. It was her house. She had no need to explain. Thea never stopped her if she wanted a wander. She hadn’t been stopped since she was three years old and unsteady on the stairs.
‘I’m hunting for my parents,’ she told him. ‘They’re hiding here somewhere. It’s a game.’
The policeman’s expression changed. ‘Aren’t you the Klippel girl?’ he asked.
Evangeline nodded. The man looked sick suddenly, taking off his cap and running a white handkerchief over his forehead.
‘You’d better run on downstairs, honey,’ he said in a funny voice, ‘your mommy and daddy aren’t hiding here.’
It was not long after that that the Bentley arrived and Darius’s mother climbed out of the back with her tight little smile and her leather high-heeled shoes that matched her handbag, and stole Evangeline back to her house in Cape Cod. She had nipped her up like a pinch of snuff and stolen her away right from under Miss Starmount’s nose and the teacher had not said a word, just sobbed and waved a hankie as the car had driven off. Evangeline had always thought teachers were there to look after you until your mother arrived. She hoped Thea would give the woman a good hiding as soon as she got back and discovered what she had done.
‘I can’t stay long,’ she told her grandma as they drove off. ‘I have to get back for my tea.’
The old lady said nothing. She was sitting so straight her back never touched the seat and her eyes were runny-looking, as though she was trying hard not to laugh. Every so often her body gave a little shake, as though a snigger had finally leaked its way out, but when Evangeline looked she was never actually smiling.
‘You may eat your tea at my house.’ The answer had been so long coming Evangeline had forgotten the question. Grandma Klippel’s voice sounded thin and scratchy, like wire wool.
Evangeline looked troubled. ‘Do you have banana cake?’ she asked.
‘Thea allows you to eat cake?’ The old woman sounded surprised.
‘Every day.’ Evangeline needed to clear these points up. She’d heard about kids who only ate cake and sweets as a treat. She had never been one of them.
‘Anything,’ she added, for safety. ‘I’m allowed to eat anything. Whatever I like. So is Lincoln.’ She didn’t want her brother going short, either.
She expected an argument but Grandma Klippel was looking out of the window and had some sort of lace material
