Campion's Choice
Chapter 31

The Musicians Gallery looked down upon the magnificent Grand Hall in the ancient College of Cancellarius. The room was nearly one hundred feet long and seemed almost as high. Like the Master’s Study the walls were oak and covered in marvellous carvings but, unlike Monty’s room, there were paintings and statues and weapons of all shapes and sizes. There were broadswords, spears, clubs, axes, halberds, guns and, close by in the middle of one wall, a huge brass shell.

‘What’s a bomb doing in here?’ Jack asked.

‘That’s Big Brock. It was a German explosive that failed to explode when a Zeppelin dropped it on Cancellarius in 1915. The names of young Cancellarians who fell in the Great War are engraved on the brass casing,’ Ursula explained.

Jack looked away from Big Brock and up at the magnificent beamed ceiling. Row upon row of multi-coloured flags dangled between sparkling candelabra. He was amazed to see that there were real candles in the candelabra.

Ursula explained to him, as they settled into their old but very comfortable seats, that the elaborately woven screen they sat behind worked like a two way mirror: you could see other people but they couldn’t see you. From up above Jack watched as guests below took their places for the meal. A few older people were simply wearing a black suit or a smart dress and a black college gown but the students from Cancellarius looked like they had turned up in hired costumes.

‘Is this some kind of medieval banquet?’ Jack asked. The more he looked around the more the place seemed to be full of black armoured Knights, people in wolf masks and Princesses dressed in bright yellow robes.

‘It’s tradition at the Wolf’s Paw Dinner. Some students dress as the Black Prince, he wore black armour and some students come as the wolf,’ Ursula explained.

‘And the yellow?’

‘That’s in memory of the first Princess of Wales, ’The Fair Maid of Kent’, Joan, the wife of the Black Prince: the most beautiful lady in the country. She was married twice before she was thirteen!’

‘What?’

‘Countess Joan. She presided over the first Wolf’s Dinner. She had bright yellow hair and came dressed all in yellow. That’s her picture on the wall over there.’

Jack saw a large painting of a beautiful longhaired woman. She reminded him of Tia’s mother. Ursula started speaking quickly.

‘Before everything kicks off I need to bring you up to speed, about our replaceings today at Night Wood. That new room caused quite a stir in Hanston. We went back and started up some of the machines. We’re pretty sure the secret room is some sort of communications hub. It connects us to a satellite station we have in orbit. We knew it was there but, until today, no one knew how to get in touch with it. But only some things seem to be working at the moment. One thing that is working is a defence system. It seems to be warning us about this new Purple Rose Star. Can you remember at what time you found the coins?’

Jack racked his brains.

‘It was in the morning. Half way through break. It must have been about ten thirty.’

‘Well, according to the machines in the secret room, the Purple Rose Star came into existence at exactly ten thirty-eight. Did anything odd happen when you found the coins?’

‘Yeah. When I first touched the coins, when I picked them up, it was sort of earthquakey. I felt that again today when I touched the boat. And then later, in the classroom, when Clamp had the coins and broke them apart it was like an invisible, atomic explosion in your head. Ask Tia.’

‘Clamp broke them up?’

‘Yeah. The coins were stuck together. Then when Clamp had them in his hands they came apart.’

Ursula nodded and spoke slowly.

‘Well, maybe that was it. Maybe the coins breaking apart sent out some kind of a signal. We think this Purple Rose Star is a threat to us and possibly a threat to Earth.’

‘Speaking of threats, did you replace out anything about that tin? The one with the Deathstalker scorpion on the top.’

‘Nothing.’

‘Well I’ve seen a man with that scorpion tattoo. He was with Criel. Maybe he’s the Deathstalker. Maybe it’s his name. You know, like The Hulk? Is he some kind of Nomas gone rogue? That room looked like it had really been bashed about. Maybe he escaped. Maybe when the coins caused the Purple Rose Star to appear they set him free?’

Ursula looked completely stunned. Her face was white with shock.

‘What’s the matter?’ Jack asked anxiously.

’We put chaos back in the box’. It’s a famous Nomas saying about how we survived the Corregia. After this meal I must talk with Anax and Monty,’ Ursula said.

She handed him a pair of opera glasses.

‘Here, have a look at the crowd. You might see some famous faces. It will also give me time to think.’

He put the tiny binoculars up to his eyes and peered around the room. There were people here from Hanston dressed in their costumes: Huras as angels, Gamelin as Romans and Crows in Caribbean outfits. The Nomas must be there to help. One person stood out. He was wearing a unique outfit: a black cape, a white shirt, a cummerbund and slicked back hair. And he had fangs. He looked like Dracula.

‘Why is Anax dressed as a vampire?’

‘Because he’s a pain in the neck,’ Ursula answered absent-mindedly.

Down below Gidean St-George and his parents made their way through the crush and seated themselves close to the top table.

‘What’s he doing here?’ Jack demanded.

‘He’s part of the entertainment.’

Jack was about to complain when he saw Tia, Mrs Cole, Liam and Liam’s father. They were in fancy dress.

‘I thought Liam’s dad was in jail?’

‘He’s out on bail,’ Ursula said.

Lifting the opera glasses Jack took a closer look. Liam was dressed as a gangster. He wore a black and white striped coat and a shiny black fedora. Next to him his dad was hard to recognise beneath a huge wig. Was he meant to be Charles the First? Tia marched behind Liam dressed as Wonder Woman.

‘Wow!’ Jack murmured.

Close to her daughter, holding hands and being led through the crowd, came Mrs Cole. She looked beautiful dressed in some kind of Arabian Princess outfit and heads turned as she glided serenely to the top table. Distracted by Mrs Cole’s long blonde hair Jack almost missed his own family’s entrance. First came his mum, dressed as a Nun. Then there was the Dadster in an amazing Sherlock Holmes outfit. Tagging along behind came Grampus and Nance, as Bonnie and Clyde. George Phillips, the next-door-neighbour, the man who got shot by Criel, closely followed them. With his arm in a sling George looked like he was pretending to be Admiral Nelson. Jack had forgotten that the writer was yet another old Cancellarian.

The Campion family sat down but he couldn’t take his eyes off Fake Jack. Luke, his double, had come as Crazy Horse, the Native American warrior. He wore a leather cloak, buckskin boots, beads and feathers in his hair. His cheeks were slashed with bright red stripes of paint. Jack stared at his double with pride.

‘Brilliant!’ he yelped and clapped a hand to his mouth.

It’s so weird, he thought as he looked at his double. It’s not like watching a film. It’s like replaceing yourself floating free from your body.

Is that what I really look like? A Colobus monkey wearing a feather? Reluctantly he dragged his attention away from the alarming apparition.

The Campion family and Tia, Mrs Cole, Liam and the Dadster appeared to be the guests of honour. They were all seated at the top table.

‘Whose that grey haired man? He seems to be getting on really well with Tia’s mum,’ Jack said grumpily.

‘You remember the old leather bag you found the coins in, at school? The one that belonged to Artemisia Le Fanu?’

‘The old lady who got killed in the car crash?’

‘Yes. That’s her son, Matthew Baines. He’s probably the richest man in England.’

A small group slipped in at the back of the room.

‘There’s Elvis and the gang! Over there! Elvis, Klaus, Max and Rashpal. Is Aubon here?’

‘No. She couldn’t make it. Her father’s ill. And please, Jack, keep your voice down. People can’t see us but they can hear us!’

All around the room the Cancellarius attendants stood against walls in college uniforms. Amongst them Jack spotted a familiar face.

‘Criel!’ he said. He barely managed to stop himself from shouting out the name.

‘Where?’

He pointed out the detective and Ursula shifted in her seat to get a better look.

‘That’s no surprise. There was bound to be high security today for the Minister of Energy and other special guests. The local police and MI5 are all here. The Secret Service people are the big men in black suits with earpieces.’

She was right. Several bulky agents were dotted amongst the crowd, their dark suits lost in the kaleidoscope of colourful costumes.

‘What other special guests are here? You said I might see some famous faces?’ Jack wanted to know.

‘Oh, old Cancellarians from other countries. The odd rockstar and Internet billionaire. Film stars. We have Kings and Queens and a couple of Prime Ministers and a Sultan. I’m pretty sure that the man over there, in the full suit of armour, used to be President of the United States.’

A gong sounded and chairs around the Grand Hall scraped backwards. Monty paraded into the room in full Scottish evening dress: black barathea jacket, silver buttons, tartan waistcoat, kilt, sporran, silk garters and dirk. The outfit was all topped off with a feathered bonnet. His face was painted blue. Two College Fellows, wearing golden robes, followed the Master and behind them came Glenster holding aloft the Wolf’s Paw. At the end of this procession someone dressed up as the Black Prince led a pantomime horse with a raggedy stuffed wolf tied to its back.

‘Why is Monty face painted?’ Jack began.

‘Shhh!’ Ursula hissed.

‘What?’

‘It’s the Scottish connection. Don’t mention the colour. It’s bad luck.’

’Don’t mention blue?’

Ursula slapped her forehead and looked helplessly up at the celling.

‘We’re doomed,’ she said gloomily.

Students began to clap: slowly and quietly at first and then louder and louder until a steady beat filled the air. Glenster came proudly to the top table and set the giant wolf’s paw in the very centre. Monty nodded and the noise stopped.

‘Oculi omnium in te spirant …’ he began and continued to drone on in Latin until finally, with a crashing ‘Amen’, everyone banged back their chairs and sat down to the meal.

‘Why is the middle seat at the top table empty?’ Jack asked.

’That’s the Prince’s Chair. It’s left vacant. One of the traditions. That and we eat ‘French style’ with only a knife and a fork,’ Ursula explained.

‘Even the soup?’

‘There’s no soup.’

‘That would please Poppy Laight, my granddad. He hates soup,’ Jack smiled.

He dropped his cutlery.

‘He’s bought me a mansion? As a birthday present. And they’re going to send me to Kester School?’ he blurted out loud.

Thinking about Poppy Laight, even for a second, brought back memories from Fake Jack. Having two sets of memories was definitely going to be hard work.

‘Poppy bought me a massive place called Calbe Hall and I’m going to live there!’

One or two people looked up at the gallery to see what the noise was all about. All they saw was a beautifully stitched wooden screen. Ursula glared at Jack and put a hand to her lips.

‘Shhh!’ she warned. She told him that, whilst he had been in Hanston, his American granddad had, in fact, bought Calbe Hall, a Mansion just outside of Cambridge.

‘I need to talk to them about this. I have to be with my family,’ Jack said worriedly as he picked his knife from the floor of the Musician’s Gallery.

‘You’ll be with them soon enough. In the meantime, if you want, you can put one of these in your ear. It will allow you to listen to any of the conversations below.’

Ursula handed him a miniscule earpiece and helped him to fit the tiny slip of plastic. It was amazing. He turned his head. He focussed on different people. Their words came clear and loud. Grampus was happily chatting about his college days. How he got stuck on a spike, on the top of a gate, trying to sneak back into college after curfew. Tia had moved out of her seat and was standing next to Gidean telling him how great he was and that she was so glad to see him and maybe they could meet up some time soon? Liam and his dad were arguing about something or someone in Russia.

When Tia finished talking to Gidean and sat back down at the top table Matthew Baines rose from his chair. He came over to her and presented a tiny white card. Jack heard him say, ‘Such a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure you’ll be a tremendous credit to the College. If ever there’s anything I can do to help you, or your family, please allow me to be of service. You have my private number now. I’m always available.’

‘What a creep!’ Jack snorted. He turned his head to look at Gidean’s mum and dad. They were arguing.

‘What do you mean you don’t know which knife and which fork to use! There’s only one knife and one fork you stupid man!’

‘I may be stupid but I know one thing. Posh people usually have loads of spoons!’ Mister St-George grumbled.

‘This is brilliant,’ Jack laughed.

There was a clattering sound behind Ursula and a small door in the wall slid open. Two plates appeared.

‘Grub’s up. You should enjoy this,’ Ursula smiled. She rubbed her hands and reached for the plates. The dinner began.

‘Wha’s this?’ Jack mumbled, scoffing the entree.

’Pheasant Explosion’. Little pieces of bacon, filled with cheese and red peppers. It has quite a kick,’ the old lady said and Jack gasped. Choking he took a huge swig of water.

More delights followed. There was an ’Amuse Bouche’ that actually made Jack snigger as he ate it. Then ’Halibut Supreme’ which came ahead of ’Pigeon Fancy’.

‘Ah. This must be Chef’s Surprise,’ Ursula said, reaching for the fifth course.

It looked seriously boring. Like a miniature pork pie.

Jack took a bite.

‘Oooooooooooh! That is amazing,’ he drooled. Quite simply the pastry was exquisite. The filling seemed to be some kind of sweet minced beef topped off with gooey gravy that ran down Jack’s quivering chin.

‘That is the best thing I have ever eaten in my life,’ he said.

‘Oh good. I’ll send a note to the chef. She likes to get feedback.’

Ursula grinned, took out a tiny notebook, jotted down Jack’s compliments and slipped the message onto one of the empty plates.

Next came ’The Prince’s Sloppy Fruit’, which was accompanied by a student who appeared on a balcony at the other end of the Grand Hall and began to sing.

‘Ah, the college song,’ Ursula laughed. She joined in humming and added some of the words.

’Hum … hum … olden … fathers…

Hum .. hum … founded … hum .. hum ..

Hum … hum … lived for themselves!

Hum .. hum … HUMMMM!’

Jack got a fit of the giggles and only stopped laughing when Monty’s chair scratched backwards. They had reached the ’Cheese Passing’, a strange experience where students seemed to run around the room swapping smelly Brie and crackers.

Monty’s voice carried above the racket.

‘Right then. Whilst you all get well and truly cheesed up, as opposed to cheesed off, it’s my great pleasure to announce the traditional musical interlude. Normally we like to fly in some super duper musico! You know, Elton or Beyoncé. But this year, I have the enormous pleasure of introducing someone who is about to become a new member of our very own, our dear old, Canners. Ladies and gentlemen and assorted bigwigs! I proudly introduce to you Miss Tia Cole and her mother!’

Jack put down his cheese plate. He leant forward so far in his seat that Ursula had to grab him before he gave away their hiding place.

A smatter of politely disappointed applause rippled around the room as Tia and her mum made their way to the grand piano. Most people kept on eating and chatting even when the two began to play a duet. It was a quick and fiddly piece of music. Jack could see that both mother and daughter were exceptional pianists but, if he was honest, it wasn’t his kind of music. In fact, it was the kind of music that made him want to cut off his ears. The audience seemed to agree. They continued to murmur and natter as they happily ate their way through overflowing cheeseboards.

The duet finished. Mrs Cole got up and left the piano to the sound of yet more polite but unenthusiastic clapping. Tia stayed at the instrument.

‘Thank you,’ she said. Even though she only said two words, very quietly, the uncanny thing was that her voice seemed to touch all parts of the room. A silence fell over the dinner guests. Tia began to play. This time you couldn’t hear a glass tinkle, a fork clang or a plate rattle. No coughing, no chatting, no tapping mobile phones. Pure attention.

Tia simply played tunes that everyone knew. Beatles songs, Madonna, Coldplay, Lady Gaga, Gilbert and Sullivan or Cole Porter. And people started to sing along. Not noisily or badly like some kind of a karaoke shouting contest but carefully, tunefully and happily. It was eerie. It was like she cast a spell. At one point, when she played, a line of students suddenly stood up and all sang along with ‘She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah’ but, instead of it sounding like a rock song, it turned into some kind of sound you’d hear from monks on a remote, hilltop monastery.

And then Tia stopped. Jack looked down. All the faces were turned to the tall, glowing girl in the Wonder Woman costume. He could feel how they were holding their breaths.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

The place went wild. A shiny blue-faced Monty had to bang the table with a huge saltshaker to restore order as Tia fought her way back to her seat.

‘Perhaps a drop of coffee would be nice,’ Monty shouted but his words disappeared in the uproar. He sat down defeated, muttering dramatically, ‘Will this thunderous applause never end?’

Slowly the Grand Hall returned to a humming chatter but the noise was different. Before Tia’s performance there had been a buzz of excitement and energy. Now the sound was unadulterated contentment. Matthew Baines broke the spell as he rose from his seat and went over to Tia. Using the thing in his ear Jack listened to the man murmur in Tia’s ear.

‘That was wonderful. A truly moving experience.’

Even from this far away Jack could see that Matthew Baines was crying. His bodyguard handed him a handkerchief and Jack stiffened in his seat. There was something on the bodyguard’s hand. A mark? A trick of the light? Before he could grab his opera glasses the bodyguard melted back into the crowd.