touch that mouthpiece, young lady. Hold it up straight and stick your chin out. Band rehearsal is on Monday after school and the concert takes place on Thursday, when we will spend the entire day at the concert hall.â
Holly thanked Miss Gilfeather and left. In the corridor she found Callum, apparently waiting for her, but when she got near he shrank away.
âI got in,â she said. âI heard you play, you were amazing.â
âI like music, I like playing, it makes me feel safe,â he said. âI heard you too. You made some mistakes.â
âDonât worry about that spoilt pop-starâs daughter. Sheâs just mean. She killed my pet mouse.â
âI donât care about her,â he replied. âShe doesnât know anything, but I know. I see too much. They all think Callum is mad because of the monsters in my head. They are all in my head, but theyâre real too.â
âWho?â asked Holly, concerned. âWhat are you talking about?â
âThe doctors donât say mad. They call it post traumatic stress instead. Itâs when you go mad because youâve been through something horrible.â
âWhat happened to you?â
âTheyâre in the trees. They look like trees. You think they are trees, then they move and they talk and they have wings and teeth and I know theyâre in my head, theyâre all imaginary. They took me before and theyâll take me again. Theyâll come soon. They told me they would, but what does it matter if itâs all in Callumâs head? Callum can control it. Thatâs what the doctors said. Thereâs no such thing as monsters.â
âCallum, what are you saying?â asked Holly anxiously.
âNo one believes Callum. No one does.â
âI want to help you,â she persisted.
âNo one helps me.â
Holly reached for his arm, but he shrugged her off, turned round and hurried down the corridor.
âCallum, wait,â she called after him, but he quickened his pace, smoothing down his greasy black hair.
Chapter Eight
Looking at the green English countryside whizzing past the train, Dirk felt a tingle of nerves in his stomach. London was his home. It was where he felt safe. All this space made him feel uneasy.
The train had been travelling for a few hours when, finally, it stopped at a small village station with a sign that read Stonegarth, where Professor Rosenfield alighted, carrying the silver case. He looked up and down the empty platform. The train pulled away and Dirk jumped over Rosenfieldâs head on to the station roof. It was a bright, sunny day and Dirk was glad that dragons cast shadows upwards.
He peered over the other side of the roof. In the carpark of the station was an old yellow car, its paintwork chipped and eaten away by rust. Two men were leaning against the side of it. Dirk recognised them instantly.
âWhatâs he a professor of, then?â said a short fat man with tightly curled red hair.
âAlthough a valid question, my tubby sidekick, Iâm afraid that Mr G has not furnished me with a full biography of the gentleman concerned, so I will have to decline from honouring your inquisition with a satisfactory answer,â said the taller man with a merest wisp of hair combed carefully across his head.
âYou mean, you donât know?â
âI am saying words to that effect, yes, Reg.â
It was the two idiot crooks who worked for the Kinghorns, Arthur and Reg. They had no idea that the Mr G they spoke of was in fact a dragon, the mysterious Vainclaw Grandin.
âMr G donât tell us much, do he?â said Reg. âI still donât know what we were doing with all those cats.â
âHe certainly likes to play his cards close to his chest, Reginald,â agreed Arthur, âbut remember, it was he who paid for the lawyer who got us off. We owe him a great deal.â
âWe only got