The Ruby Bottle Page 8

  A loud noise made them both jump. It came from next door. Amber sat up and pulled back the curtain; Jimell slipped onto the sill. Mrs Heggety’s kitchen light was blazing, illuminating her backyard.

  ‘Quick,’ said Jimell. ‘Open the window.’

  Amber turned the lock, pushed her window up a fraction, and Jimell was gone. She watched as Mrs Heggety’s back door opened and something flew out into the night. Whatever it was landed with a thud on the lawn. Amber looked back at her neighbour’s house. Was that smoke? Was there a fire? Just then Jimell slipped back through the crack under the window.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘Mrs Heggety burnt a cake, that’s all. She was so angry she threw it out the back door.’

  ‘But she’s alright, isn’t she?’ asked Amber.

  ‘Yes. Just hurt pride. She doesn’t usually burn anything. Not like this. Now, I should really be getting back to my bottle. And you need some sleep, too.’

  But as she lay there in the dark, Amber didn’t fall asleep straightaway. Instead she thought about Rachel and Marissa. And Ricco. She rolled over and curled up under her doona, thinking about how Ricco had helped her with the maths problems, and how good that had felt. Then she remembered that Ms Kruger had said she’d be giving them a maths test tomorrow and her insides pinched. If only Ricco could help her with that.

  She clutched her pillow tightly and tried to think of something else. Of collecting material for her art project. But what would she find here at home? Her mother hated clutter. She never kept any junk, or scraps of paper or material …

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘You know I never keep anything like that,’ said Mum at breakfast the next morning. ‘Why on earth would I keep chocolate wrappers, for heaven’s sakes?’

  ‘Why do you want chocolate wrappers?’ asked Dad as he came into the kitchen and turned on the kettle. He took out two cups and dropped a teabag in each.

  Mum ignored him. ‘You could look through my sewing cabinet. You might find something useful there,’ she said.

  Dad looked blankly at both of them. ‘What do chocolate wrappers have to do with sewing?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s for my collage for the art show. You know, the one at the fete. If it’s good enough someone might buy it.’ Amber looked hopefully at her father.

  ‘Oh, and who do you think can afford to buy some exquisite art piece by the famous Amber Daley? I don’t think anyone that rich will be coming to this fete.’

  ‘Ha ha. Very funny,’ said Amber.

  Dad reached over and ruffled her hair. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’m sure someone will buy your collage.’

  ‘Come on, you two,’ said Mum. ‘Get a move on. Would you like a lift to school this morning, Amber? I could drop you there before the bell rings.’

  ‘No thanks. I have to be there early this week. Ms Kruger’s put Rachel and me in charge of the storeroom. We have to collect the jumble as it comes in and make sure it’s neat and tidy.’

  ‘Oh. I’m glad you’re doing it with Rachel. She’s such a nice girl, isn’t she, Peter?’

  Hmmph. Rachel? Nice? Amber touched her cheek for a moment before grabbing her lunch box.

  ‘I’d better get going,’ she said as she headed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to grab her school bag.

  ‘Any homework you want me to check?’ her mother called after her.

  That was when Amber remembered the maths test they were having today, and her stomach knotted. As she reached for her bag, she glanced over at her desk. Maybe there was something, or someone, who might help …

  ‘I wondered when you’d turn up,’ said Rachel as Amber walked into the storeroom. ‘I’ve been here for ages. Look at all this stuff I’ve had to move. By myself.’ She pointed to three small boxes of jumble in one corner.

  Amber took a deep breath and repeated Jimell’s words in her head. Special, kind, good. Special, kind, good. Special, kind, good. ‘Well, I can help now. What would you like me to do?’

  ‘Nothing,’ snapped Rachel. ‘We’ll have to wait for more stuff to come in. You might as well put your bag away.’

  Amber walked back into the classroom and over to her desk. Ms Kruger was talking on the phone, her back turned. Amber unzipped her bag, carefully lifted out a small cosmetic case her mother had once given her, and slipped it into her tidy tray, just as someone arrived with a huge box of jumble.

  Amber didn’t want to look around to see who was crying. She was almost crying herself. Apart from the sobs, the only sound in the room was Ms Kruger’s voice as she read another chapter of Marley. Even her voice was wobbly. The lunch bell rang and Ms Kruger slipped the bookmark into place and closed the book. No one moved.

  ‘Lunchtime,’ she said eventually, pulling a tissue from the box. She walked out of the room and onto the small landing outside.

  ‘Are you crying?’ said Lukus loudly. He was looking at Rachel. ‘Y’know, my aunty had a dog like that once, and you know what happened to him –’

  ‘Oh, just shut up, Lukus,’ cried Rachel, pushing past him. Marissa followed her, glaring fiercely at Lukus as she went. Then everyone stood and made their way to the door.

  Amber waited until most of the class had left before she reached into her tidy tray and zipped open the case she had put in there that morning. Her fingers gave a familiar tingle as they touched the smooth glass.

  ‘What are you doing at lunchtime?’ came a voice beside her.

  Amber jumped, and jammed her hand in the tidy tray as she tried to push it shut.

  ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,’ said Ricco. ‘What have you got in there anyway?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Amber quickly.

  ‘Yes, you have,’ said Ricco. ‘Is it the diary?’

  ‘No,’ said Amber, standing up. ‘It’s nothing.’

  Ricco shrugged. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but are you doing anything at lunchtime? I just thought you might like to –’

  ‘I’m not going down behind the sports shed again,’ said Amber quickly.

  ‘No, I was thinking of the library actually. I’ve found a great book that’s got some stories about genies in it. I just thought you might like to look at it. You can bring that with you, if you like,’ he said, pointing to her tidy tray.

  ‘It’s not the diary. It’s the –’ Amber stopped herself before she said “bottle”.

  ‘Okay,’ said Ricco, standing at the door, waiting. ‘But you can bring it if you want to.’

  Amber didn’t want to take it, but she didn’t want to leave it behind either. What if someone came in and looked through her desk? Someone like … Marissa? She wished she hadn’t decided to bring the bottle to school, but she’d thought it might have helped her with her maths test. It hadn’t. After all, she could hardly let Jimell out here in the classroom.

  ‘Alright,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll bring it.’

  Just as she slipped the case into her lunch box, Ms Kruger came back into the room. Her eyes were red.

  ‘Come on, you two. Off to lunch. The play bell will have gone before you even get to the eating area.’

  ‘Just going, miss,’ said Ricco, and he grabbed Amber’s arm and hauled her through the doorway.

  Amber and Ricco found a great spot in the library courtyard – a low wooden bench hidden in the garden – and there was no one else about.

  ‘You have to promise not to tell anyone,’ said Amber. ‘No one at all.’

  ‘I promise,’ said Ricco, his dark curls spilling over his eyes. ‘Who would I tell anyway?’

  Amber looked out from behind the bushes, just to be sure no one was watching. Then she unzipped the small cosmetic case and held it out towards Ricco.

  ‘It’s the bottle I drew in school that day,’ she whispered.

  Ricco gazed down at the ruby bottle, nestled in amongst a wad of tissues. ‘Take it out,’ he said.

  ‘Well …’ Amber glanced around the courtyard again, ‘maybe just for a minute.’

  She lifted the bottle
out and, as she held it up, the sun caught the red glass and sent sparkles of light dancing around the courtyard.

  ‘Wow!’ said Ricco. ‘Awesome! How did you do that?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ said Amber, surprised he could see the sparkling light. After all, Mrs Heggety hadn’t. ‘It’s what happens when the sunlight hits it.’

  ‘No wonder you didn’t want to put it in the jumble sale,’ said Ricco. ‘It’s just … amazing. What’s inside?’ And he reached for the stopper.

  ‘No,’ cried Amber, pulling the bottle away. ‘You … ah, the stopper’s stuck. It won’t come out.’

  ‘That’s a pity. You could have put something in it. Like perfume. Or oil. They liked using scented oils back in Arabian times.’

  ‘I don’t mind. I’m happy with it empty. After all, it might not shine like that if there was something in it.’ She quickly placed the bottle back in amongst the tissues and zipped the case closed. ‘Let’s look at this again,’ she said, reaching down for Ricco’s book of genie tales.

  Chapter Twenty

  The afternoon bell rang.

  ‘Don’t forget to bring your art materials tomorrow,’ called Ms Kruger as the class scrambled to grab school bags and pushed their way out the door. ‘You need to finish your collage for the art show …’

  Amber watched as Marissa and Rachel left together, then she looked to see who else was still in the classroom. Livia was helping Ms Kruger tidy the book shelf; Daniel and Lukus had their heads in a book, laughing.

  She pulled open her tidy tray, took out the small cosmetic case and clutched it to her chest. Then she covered it with her homework book. She hurried across to the bag racks, but just as she reached them Marissa came back through the door.

  Amber stopped short, hugging her book, and the hidden case, close to her. She stared at Marissa.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Marissa snarled.

  Just then, Daniel bumped into Amber from behind, and the small case slipped from its hiding place. Before it could hit the floor, she snatched it back up, then put her head down and grabbed her school bag.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Marissa, stepping towards Amber. ‘What have you got there that you don’t want me to see?’

  ‘Nothing,’ mumbled Amber, her fingers gripping the straps of her bag so tightly her knuckles were white.

  ‘Marissa, did you forget something?’ It was Ms Kruger. She walked towards them, her arms full of books.

  ‘Ah, no, Ms Kruger. I just …’

  Amber heard no more. She slipped past Marissa and out the door, pushing the case and the book into her bag as she went.

  But as she rushed through the school towards the gate, she suddenly felt afraid for Jimell and her ruby bottle. She looked about. The grounds were deserted. Where was everyone?

  She stopped; shivered in the eerie quiet. Something felt wrong.

  She thought of Marissa. She’d be coming back this way any moment now.

  I can’t let her find me.

  Her stomach churned. If only Ricco was with her. But he’d gone to After School Care today.

  ‘Maybe I should hide,’ she told herself. And then she remembered the gate down past the junior playground. She couldn’t see it from here because it was sheltered by bushes. And that would mean Marissa wouldn’t see it either. She turned and headed in the direction of the playground.

  She rushed past the slides and the fort and the sand pit, and started to relax as she came to the row of bushes. She was almost there.

  Then Marissa jumped out from behind a bush and blocked her path.

  ‘Thought you’d be clever?’ said Marissa, hands on her hips. ‘Well, you can’t hide from me. Now I wonder what it is you don’t want me to see.’

  Amber stepped backwards. Perhaps if she went back to the classroom …

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ hissed Marissa. She reached out and grabbed the strap of Amber’s school bag.

  Amber pulled away but her foot twisted. She overbalanced and almost fell. And that was when Marissa pounced. She ripped the bag from Amber’s back and unzipped it.

  ‘Aha,’ she said, pulling out the cosmetic case. ‘What have we got here?’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ screamed Amber, scrambling to her feet. She lurched forward and made a grab for the small case, but Marissa stepped away and turned her back, blocking her as she opened the case.

  ‘Ah, so this is your famous little bottle,’ she said, holding it high. Amber lunged forward frantically, but Marissa stepped backwards again.

  ‘Careful, Amber,’ she said, ‘you don’t want me to drop it, do you?’

  Amber froze. If the bottle broke, what would happen to Jimell?

  She stepped back, and Marissa gave a sly smile as she lifted the bottle to her nose. ‘What do you keep in here anyway? Perfume? Well, let’s see what it smells like.’ And she reached for the stopper.

  Amber’s breath caught in her throat. She’s going to sniff it. And Jimell could be sucked up her nostril.

  Fear engulfed Amber. Somewhere in the distance she heard a strangled cry, then realised it was hers.

  Save Jimell.

  She had to save Jimell.

  On heavy legs, she moved forward again, and reached for her ruby bottle.

  Marissa stepped away. And tripped. As she fell backwards, the bottle left her hand, arced through the air above their heads, and spun towards the path.

  Fear gripped Amber as she reached out to catch it, but she only managed to touch it with her fingertips. It was enough to break the fall. The bottle tumbled onto the grass and rolled away.

  I saved it.

  But then it hit the edge of a garden bed … and shattered.

  Silence filled the air and, for a moment, Amber struggled to breathe.

  Then she felt the rage, gripping her, startling her. Where had it come from? It bubbled up from somewhere deep within, and pulsed through her veins and hammered in her ears. She felt every part of her ablaze with anger. She swung around, trying to push aside the fiery haze of red that suddenly surrounded her.

  The heat. The burning. Her eyes on fire.

  What was happening?

  She spied Marissa and lunged forward.

  Marissa screamed and dragged herself away, her eyes wide with terror. She staggering to her feet, snatched up her bag and fled.

  Then Amber’s world tipped sideways and she slumped to the ground. As she curled her body tight, she wept hot tears that stung her eyes but cooled her face. A breeze rustled amongst the leaves and whispered through her hair. She gave a shiver, sending goosebumps up and down her arms.

  And as her breathing slowed and her tears abated, she looked down to where her bottle lay. In pieces.

  Jimell? Was he …?

  She pulled herself up and staggered over to the broken bottle. Carefully she picked up a shard of glass, still red, but dulled, as if its life was flowing from it.

  ‘Jimell,’ she sobbed. ‘What’s happened to you?’ She picked up another piece of glass.

  ‘Here,’ came a thin voice behind her.

  She turned. Jimell was nestled in beside the small cosmetic case left lying on the grass where Marissa had dropped it. She rushed to him.

  ‘What can I do?’ she whispered.

  ‘You’ll have to find me another bottle,’ he gasped. ‘It has to be glass.’

  ‘But … I don’t have anything like that here,’ said Amber.

  ‘Take me home. You’ll find something there.’ He sounded breathless. ‘The case …’ he said. ‘Take the tissues out of the case. I’ll be alright in there … just for a while.’

  ‘But … what about your bottle?’ asked Amber.

  ‘Gather up all the pieces of glass,’ he said, slipping into the case. ‘Make sure you get them all, and bring them home with you. Now quickly, do up the zip.’

  Amber closed the case then carefully picked up the jagged pieces of glass. She looked down at what was left of the bottle, now cupped in a tissue in her hand. A bottle that must have bee
n hundreds of years old. There had to be something she could do.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Amber dashed through the school gate and made her way home, hoping that Marissa was nowhere about. She paused at the corner of her street to catch her breath. Her eyes felt hot and swollen and she was sure they were red. What would her mother say when she saw them?

  She looked down at the broken glass in her hand and stifled a sob. How was she going to fix this mess? If only she hadn’t taken the bottle to school. Because of her, Jimell had lost his home, and she had no idea whether he could survive without it.

  Amber trudged down the street, her head bent in dejection.

  ‘Ah, there you are at last,’ said Mrs Heggety, popping her head up from behind her front fence. She was clutching a handful of weeds.

  Amber jumped and almost dropped the glass she was holding.

  ‘Why, whatever is the matter, Amber?’ Mrs Heggety said, peering into the young girl’s eyes. ‘Have you been …?’

  She let the weeds slip from her fingers and moved toward the gate.

  ‘You’d better come in and have something cool to drink,’ she said. ‘You look … hot.’ And she started to wrestle with the latch, which still hadn’t been fixed.

  ‘Mum will be expecting me,’ said Amber hesitantly, though she would much rather go to Mrs Heggety’s than have to explain her red eyes to her mother.

  ‘No,’ said Mrs Heggety. ‘She rang me. She’s had to stay late at work. She asked if I would look after you until she got home.’

  Just then Mrs Heggety noticed the glass Amber was holding.

  ‘What’s this?’ she asked, cradling Amber’s hand as she lifted it to get a better look.

  Amber could not hold back her tears any longer.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Heggety. It’s the ruby bottle … I … I took it to school and it … it got … broken.’

  ‘Oh, Amber. You poor lamb. It doesn’t matter. It’s just an old bottle. These things happen, you know.’ Mrs Heggety rubbed her thumb across Amber’s cheek, wiping away the tears.

  ‘But it does matter,’ wailed Amber, forgetting for a moment that Mrs Heggety didn’t know about the djinn. ‘It’s … well … it’s just that it was … important. To me.’