night outside, trying not to be seen by anyone and hoping to identify whoever or whatever was discreetly vandalizing the town’s pride and joy. This wasn’t really his scene at all. Still, Bonnie had been right about one thing. Getting out of his house had been extremely straightforward; a combination of vague, or otherwise engaged parents, a conveniently located ground-floor bedroom with a smoothly-opening window and some dark clothing … and here he was.
Admittedly, it wasn’t the best hiding place but he could peek round the corner and see the mural easily. The only problem that he had was the difficulty in moving freely as he had five layers of clothes on to ensure he kept warm through the night. The backpack at his feet had been carefully put together by Bonnie, complete with a blanket, snacks and an enormous torch, and he was under instructions to text her every thirty minutes with an update. After three of these updates, Rory had run out of things to put other than “a bit darker. no sign of anything.”
He slumped down and decided to feel cold and miserable for a bit and to curse his luck at having to spend the night outside. He was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket as his phone vibrated. The message from Bonnie was “I bet uve nodded off. Pay attention.”
Rory had almost forgotten his reason for being there, when a routine casual glance made his jaw drop. A hunched figure was working away on the giant painting, but Rory hadn’t even seen or heard anyone arrive. Fleetingly, he thought of the option of sneaking home back to the comfort of his bed, but he knew that Bonnie would spot differences in the painting the next day and he would be found out. With shaky hands he pulled out his phone and texted, “Its started” as she had instructed. Since the hotel was only emerging a little at a time with a few carefully chosen details, Bonnie and Rory had concluded that whoever was responsible might not be there for very long.
Rory watched closely. Although absorbed in what they were doing, the painter jerked around every few seconds as if checking that he wasn’t being watched. Crouched behind the statue, Rory remained undetected even when the phone vibrated in his hand. The little screen lit up in the darkness. Bonnie’s text simply said “Its time.” Rory hit reply with the message “Here goes.” He shivered as he put the phone in his pocket not really feeling ready for a confrontation.
Holding his breath and moving round the corner of the statue with as much stealth and as little sound as he could, Rory stood in position. The painter continued to work away, unaware of what was about to happen. Rory’s finger hovered over the switch on Bonnie’s enormous torch for a moment then, knowing there was no way back, Rory winced and switched it on. The beam shone straight at the mural and the figure at the wall flinched and froze in the bright light, completely motionless at first, as if he thought he might remain invisible by not moving. Then, Rory thought he saw the person tense, ready to make a run for it. He steeled himself, preparing to give chase if need be, but the moment passed. The painter seemed to think otherwise, the shoulders relaxed, and heturned into the light, shielding his eyes from the glare.
“Who are you?” challenged Rory in as commanding a voice as he could muster.
There was no reply.
“I like what you’ve painted,” said Rory. “It’s very clever. I just wanted to see who’d done it.”
“So now you can see me,” said a young male voice. “Can you switch that light off? I can’t see a thing.”
“Sorry,” said Rory clicking the torch off. As he peered into the darkness he made out a tall thin lad in his mid-teens rubbing his eyes. As the hands moved from his face, Rory saw a sharp nose and angular cheekbones. He looked as though he had grown faster than his body could keep up with.
“I’m Rory McKenna. Who are you?” said Rory edging forwards.
“I know who
Admittedly, it wasn’t the best hiding place but he could peek round the corner and see the mural easily. The only problem that he had was the difficulty in moving freely as he had five layers of clothes on to ensure he kept warm through the night. The backpack at his feet had been carefully put together by Bonnie, complete with a blanket, snacks and an enormous torch, and he was under instructions to text her every thirty minutes with an update. After three of these updates, Rory had run out of things to put other than “a bit darker. no sign of anything.”
He slumped down and decided to feel cold and miserable for a bit and to curse his luck at having to spend the night outside. He was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket as his phone vibrated. The message from Bonnie was “I bet uve nodded off. Pay attention.”
Rory had almost forgotten his reason for being there, when a routine casual glance made his jaw drop. A hunched figure was working away on the giant painting, but Rory hadn’t even seen or heard anyone arrive. Fleetingly, he thought of the option of sneaking home back to the comfort of his bed, but he knew that Bonnie would spot differences in the painting the next day and he would be found out. With shaky hands he pulled out his phone and texted, “Its started” as she had instructed. Since the hotel was only emerging a little at a time with a few carefully chosen details, Bonnie and Rory had concluded that whoever was responsible might not be there for very long.
Rory watched closely. Although absorbed in what they were doing, the painter jerked around every few seconds as if checking that he wasn’t being watched. Crouched behind the statue, Rory remained undetected even when the phone vibrated in his hand. The little screen lit up in the darkness. Bonnie’s text simply said “Its time.” Rory hit reply with the message “Here goes.” He shivered as he put the phone in his pocket not really feeling ready for a confrontation.
Holding his breath and moving round the corner of the statue with as much stealth and as little sound as he could, Rory stood in position. The painter continued to work away, unaware of what was about to happen. Rory’s finger hovered over the switch on Bonnie’s enormous torch for a moment then, knowing there was no way back, Rory winced and switched it on. The beam shone straight at the mural and the figure at the wall flinched and froze in the bright light, completely motionless at first, as if he thought he might remain invisible by not moving. Then, Rory thought he saw the person tense, ready to make a run for it. He steeled himself, preparing to give chase if need be, but the moment passed. The painter seemed to think otherwise, the shoulders relaxed, and heturned into the light, shielding his eyes from the glare.
“Who are you?” challenged Rory in as commanding a voice as he could muster.
There was no reply.
“I like what you’ve painted,” said Rory. “It’s very clever. I just wanted to see who’d done it.”
“So now you can see me,” said a young male voice. “Can you switch that light off? I can’t see a thing.”
“Sorry,” said Rory clicking the torch off. As he peered into the darkness he made out a tall thin lad in his mid-teens rubbing his eyes. As the hands moved from his face, Rory saw a sharp nose and angular cheekbones. He looked as though he had grown faster than his body could keep up with.
“I’m Rory McKenna. Who are you?” said Rory edging forwards.
“I know who
Similar Books
