The Silver Boy Read online

  Aladdin stared at the floor. He knew that lots of people shared Billie’s opinion; they thought his parents must be rich, just because they owned a restaurant.

  ‘I don’t think we’ve got much money left,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s why they’re so worried about this food. What if the thief starts taking other stuff?’

  His father had talked about money quite a lot lately, usually when he thought Aladdin wasn’t listening. Aladdin didn’t know much about financial matters, but he realized that everything cost money. If you couldn’t pay for what you needed, you had problems. Big problems, if you were unlucky.

  Billie’s face grew serious as she listened to his explanation. ‘We have to do something,’ she said firmly. ‘Couldn’t it be that guy who’s always so miserable? The guy who works in the restaurant? What’s his name … Mats! That’s it, Mats. It seems as if the thief gets in using a key, doesn’t it?’

  ‘We thought of that, but Dad has spoken to Mats and it’s not him. Apparently.’

  Aladdin wasn’t completely convinced. He had never liked Mats; not because he was stupid or unpleasant, but because he was weird. His parents liked him because he was good at his job; he was quick and efficient. But Aladdin wondered why he was always so miserable. And he was huge. If you were in the kitchen while Mats was washing up, it was impossible to ignore him.

  Billie didn’t like Mats either. ‘What do you mean, your dad’s spoken to him? If Mats is the thief, he’s hardly going to admit it, is he? You have to catch him red-handed!’

  Aladdin smiled. Catch him red-handed – that was exactly how he and Billie had caught a ghost not long after Billie had moved to Åhus.

  ‘Dad didn’t just speak to him,’ he explained. ‘Apparently Mats was away on several occasions when food went missing, so it can’t be him.’

  Aladdin had known Billie for just a few months. They had become friends during the summer when she and her mum moved to Åhus from Kristianstad. Aladdin knew that Billie had hated living here at first, so she still went to her old school in Kristianstad, even though it was over ten miles away. Aladdin wished she would change her mind and transfer to the school in Åhus, because then they would be in the same class.

  ‘We ought to spy on Mats, then we’d know for sure,’ Billie said. ‘He might be lying. Maybe he wasn’t away at all!’

  Aladdin burst out laughing. ‘You’re joking! We can’t do that! You can’t just go around spying on people!’

  ‘Of course you can! And it’s important. What if your parents run out of money – what will you do then?’

  That was something Aladdin really didn’t want to think about. They couldn’t run out of money. They just couldn’t.

  ‘Is Mats working today?’ Billie asked.

  Aladdin shook his head. It was Saturday, and Mats had a day off. ‘He said he was going to Malmö to visit his mother. He won’t be back until tomorrow.’

  ‘Typical,’ Billie said. Then her face lit up. ‘Actually, that’s perfect!’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Well, he said he was going away, so we can go round to his place and see if he’s there. Then we’ll know if he’s lying.’

  Aladdin wasn’t so sure. ‘How’s that going to work? He knows both of us – what are we supposed to say if we bump into him?’

  Billie thought for a moment. ‘We’ll call Simona and get her to come over on the bus. He doesn’t know her.’

  Simona lived in Kristianstad; she was Billie’s friend, and had become friends with Aladdin too.

  He thought about it, and decided it was a good idea. ‘OK. I’ll go and find Mats’s address.’

  Easier said than done. Mats had such a common name that it was impossible to look up the address on the internet; there were far too many matches. Aladdin definitely didn’t want to ask his parents, so he sneaked into their bedroom to look for his mother’s handbag. She always carried her address book, and Mats was bound to be in there. He looked everywhere, but he couldn’t find the handbag.

  He ran down to the office; it was a mess as usual, with files and papers all over the place.

  Sighing to himself, Aladdin switched on the light and started searching through the chaos on the desk. Perhaps there was something that was due to be sent to Mats – his payslip, maybe?

  Aladdin didn’t want anyone to know he had been there, but it was hard not to leave any signs; it was impossible to remember exactly how everything had looked when he started. He was just about to give up when he spotted an envelope with Mats’s name on it. It was sealed, so he didn’t know what was inside, but that didn’t matter. The important thing was the address.

  He recognized his mother’s handwriting:

  Getingvägen. That wasn’t far from Billie’s house. Perfect. Aladdin ran back up to his room. Billie was in the bathroom; it sounded as if she was washing her hands. Aladdin found a piece of paper and wrote down the address. He glanced out of the window and noticed that it had stopped snowing. Good – that would make things much easier.

  But then he saw something that made him forget both Mats and the missing food.

  The boy in the short trousers was standing in the snow at the bottom of the tower, right next to the restaurant sign. Exactly where Aladdin had seen him the first time.

  Aladdin didn’t move.

  The boy in the snow didn’t move either.

  Billie emerged from the bathroom. ‘What are you looking at?’

  Aladdin didn’t take his eyes off the boy. He wasn’t wearing the same clothes this time; he had a jacket on instead of a jumper.

  ‘The boy in the short trousers,’ he whispered in answer to Billie’s question, as if he was afraid that the boy would hear him if he spoke any louder.

  Billie moved closer and looked out. ‘Where?’

  ‘Can’t you see him?’ Aladdin said impatiently. ‘There!’

  The boy started walking, and disappeared from view. He seemed to be heading round the back of the tower.

  Aladdin dashed out of his room and down the stairs.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Billie called after him.

  He didn’t even think about what he was doing, he simply ran. Straight out of the door and into the snow. In his socks. He was panting as he raced round the tower.

  Not again, he thought as he stopped to catch his breath.

  The boy had disappeared once more.

  Aladdin was all alone, his heart pounding. For the first time he was really scared. How come the boy was always so quick? Why didn’t he stay around and say what he wanted?

  Chapter Five

  Aladdin’s feet had almost turned to ice by the time he got back into the warmth. His mother was waiting for him; she had seen him go running out into the snow in his socks.

  ‘Have you lost your mind?’ she shouted in Turkish. ‘Going outside with no shoes on! You’ll catch your death of cold!’

  Then she caught sight of Billie and softened. She and Aladdin’s father always spoke Turkish to their son, but not when he had friends round.

  ‘Your father and I have a job to do,’ she said. ‘On Saturdays too. You’re too old to do something this stupid, Aladdin.’

  He pulled off his socks. ‘I saw him again,’ he said. ‘The boy in the short trousers.’

  His mother looked confused; then she remembered what he was talking about. ‘The refugee boy,’ she said. ‘Did you speak to him?’

  ‘No. He … disappeared.’

  ‘Disappeared?’

  ‘I suppose he was too fast for me,’ Aladdin muttered.

  His mother looked at Billie. ‘Did you see this boy too?’

  Billie wasn’t quite sure what to say. ‘No. Yes. Maybe. But he was really fast, like Aladdin said.’

  Aladdin’s mother gazed at him for a long time.

  ‘I’m not lying,’ he insisted. He felt stupid, standing there with a wet sock in each hand.

  ‘I’m sure you’re not. I’m going to search the whole tower right now; perhaps he’s hiding
somewhere.’

  But however hard Aladdin’s mother looked, there was no sign of the boy anywhere in the tower.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure you saw him?’ Billie whispered.

  ‘Of course I am!’ Aladdin hissed.

  His mother slowly shook her head when she had finished searching. ‘Strange,’ she said. ‘Very strange.’

  Simona was due to arrive on the bus an hour later; Billie and Aladdin went down to meet her. As Billie had expected, Simona was happy to spy on Mats’s house. Aladdin liked Simona; she was cool. Much cooler than him. And braver. And she always said exactly what she thought.

  Neither Billie nor Aladdin had much to say on their way to the bus stop. Aladdin kept kicking at the snow; it bothered him that Billie hadn’t seen the boy.

  ‘Maybe he’s a ghost,’ he muttered.

  Billie laughed. ‘But you don’t believe in ghosts!’

  ‘Neither do you!’

  Billie fell silent, and Aladdin knew why. For a while they had thought that Billie’s house was haunted. It felt like such a long time ago now, although in fact it was only a few months. To be honest, they still weren’t completely sure whether the house was haunted or not. They had managed to find the explanation for most of the spooky things that had happened, but not all of them. The ceiling light in the living room still swung slowly to and fro from time to time – in spite of the fact that all the doors and windows were closed.

  ‘There could be a draught from the air vents,’ Billie’s mother said firmly when they tried to talk to her about it.

  Billie had told Aladdin that it didn’t bother her; the light could swing to and fro as much as it wanted, as long as things didn’t go back to the way they had been at the start, with someone tapping on the windows in the middle of the night and leaving messages in the spare room.

  Aladdin thought about the boy in the strange clothes. Of course he wasn’t a ghost. There was no such thing as ghosts. And yet he frightened Aladdin. Every single time.

  What does he want? Aladdin wondered.

  They had to run the last few metres to the bus stop; Simona met them with a big smile.

  ‘I’m so glad you called!’ she said to Billie. ‘I couldn’t wait to get out of the house; my mum and dad are just arguing all the time.’

  Aladdin had heard her say the same thing several times. His own parents hardly ever argued – at least, that was the way it had been, but something had changed. Since he first heard his father say they were having financial problems, there had been quite a few rows.

  ‘Can we go past the harbour and check out the refugee boat?’ Simona asked. ‘It’s been in the paper.’

  ‘There’s not much to see,’ Aladdin said doubtfully. ‘It’s just an old boat.’

  In his class, only Aladdin and two others had parents who came from countries other than Sweden, but he hardly ever thought about it. Why should it matter where a person was from? His father always said how pleased he was that they had come to Sweden ten years ago, because if they had arrived today, everything would have been much more difficult. When he said that, Aladdin wondered what it would have been like if they had stayed in Turkey, but he just couldn’t imagine it. He felt every bit as Swedish as Simona and Billie and everyone else. Nor could he imagine what life was like on the refugee boat. Aladdin and his parents had come to Sweden by plane; the very thought of hiding in a freezing cold fishing boat for weeks on end made him feel ill.

  ‘So what are we doing?’ Simona asked as they set off from the bus stop. ‘Spying on some old guy?’

  Aladdin wouldn’t exactly call Mats an old guy; he was about the same age as Aladdin’s father, and he definitely wasn’t old. But he couldn’t argue about the spying …

  Billie explained to Simona what had been going on.

  ‘Wow,’ Simona said. ‘A thief. But why would this Mats need to steal food? Is he hungry?’

  ‘We don’t really know,’ Aladdin said.

  The whole thing was just stupid. Why should they assume that Mats was the thief when they didn’t know why he was taking the food? But if it wasn’t Mats, then who could it be?

  ‘Perhaps he’s got a big family that nobody knows about,’ Billie suggested.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Aladdin said.

  ‘Why not?’

  Simona interrupted them. ‘Is it far?’

  ‘We’re almost there,’ Aladdin reassured her. ‘He lives near Billie.’

  A few minutes later they were standing a short distance away from Mats’s house.

  ‘It’s that one,’ Aladdin said, pointing across the road. It was almost three o’clock; soon the sun would disappear. Aladdin shuddered; he wanted to get home before dark.

  The house lay silent and gloomy. The wind whispered in the tall pine trees along the road.

  ‘It looks empty,’ Billie said.

  ‘We can’t be sure unless we ring the doorbell,’ Aladdin said, turning to Simona. ‘Or, to put it more accurately, unless you ring the doorbell. Are you ready?’

  Sometimes a plan seemed like such a brilliant idea when you came up with it. And then it didn’t seem like a very good idea at all when you actually had to carry it out. Simona wasn’t scared, but as she was about to set off across the road, she hesitated.

  ‘Can you just run the whole thing by me one more time?’

  ‘Someone has been stealing food from Aladdin’s parents,’ Billie began. ‘We think it could be Mats, but Aladdin’s father has spoken to him, and says it’s not him. Mats claims he’s been away on several occasions when food has gone missing, but who knows if that’s true?’

  Aladdin took over: ‘It’s his day off today, and he said he was going to Malmö to visit his mother. So we thought we’d check to see if he really does go away as often as he says, or if he’s lying.’

  ‘And that’s why you want me to ring the doorbell? To see if he’s home?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Aladdin said. ‘He knows me and Billie, but he won’t recognize you.’

  Simona thought for a moment, then she came up with the same question as Billie had asked:

  ‘Why does it matter if the odd bit of food is going missing from your restaurant?’

  Aladdin felt uncomfortable; he didn’t know Simona as well as he knew Billie.

  ‘Aladdin’s parents are kind of short of money at the moment,’ Billie said before he could stop her. ‘And we’re afraid the thief will start taking other stuff instead of food. Valuable stuff.’

  ‘OK,’ said Simona, straightening up. ‘Now I get it. What do I say if he opens the door?’

  ‘Anything you like,’ Billie said. ‘Tell him you’ll be selling Christmas magazines in a few weeks; ask him if he’s interested in buying one and say you’ll call back if he is.’

  ‘Although obviously you don’t need to do that,’ Aladdin quickly chipped in. ‘Call back, I mean.’

  ‘Obviously,’ Simona said.

  A car drove past and made them jump.

  ‘Hurry up,’ Billie said. ‘Then we can go back to mine for a drink.’

  Simona set off, then turned round. ‘You are staying here to keep an eye on the house, aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ Aladdin said.

  He didn’t really believe that Mats was dangerous, but you could never be sure.

  Aladdin and Billie moved behind some tall bushes so that they could see the house without being seen. Aladdin shuffled his feet nervously as he watched Simona walk up the drive. She went up the steps and rang the doorbell. Several times. No one came.

  She went back down the steps, but she didn’t leave as Aladdin had expected. Instead she turned right and headed off round the corner of the house.

  ‘What’s she doing?’ Billie hissed. ‘We can’t see her any more!’

  Aladdin swallowed; he had a pain in his stomach. This didn’t feel good.

  Another car came along the road, but this time Aladdin and Billie were ready; as it drove past, they moved a little further behind the bushes. Aladdin craned his neck t
o watch the car; it began to brake, as if it was about to stop.

  There was still no sign of Simona.

  ‘I wish she’d hurry up,’ Billie muttered.

  She fell silent as she saw the car turn into Mats’s drive. Only then did Aladdin see who was behind the wheel.

  It was Mats.

  Chapter Six

  The car door slammed and Mats marched towards the house, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the white snow.

  Then he stopped, as if he had suddenly turned to ice. It looked as if he had spotted something that bothered him.

  ‘Oh no,’ Billie whispered. ‘Simona’s footprints in the snow.’

  Aladdin was so nervous that he almost forgot to breathe.

  Slowly Mats moved towards the steps. He stopped again, staring at the trail of footprints leading round the side of the house.

  A thousand thoughts were spinning around in Aladdin’s head. What should they do? What if Mats was dangerous after all?

  Billie nudged him. ‘What are we going to do?’ she whispered.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Aladdin said in despair.

  To their great relief, Mats decided not to follow the footprints, and went into the house instead. He had only just shut the door behind him when Simona came racing round the corner. She must have heard the car, and waited for Mats to go inside. She shot across the snow like an arrow, heading for the road; she had almost made it when Mats opened the door.

  ‘Stop!’ he shouted. ‘Stop right there! This is private property – what do you think you’re doing?’

  But Simona didn’t stop. She ran down the road as fast as she could, past the bushes where Billie and Aladdin were hiding and on towards Billie’s house. Mats stood there watching her for a moment, then he went back indoors.

  At which point Billie and Aladdin took to their heels as well.

  Simona was waiting on Billie’s patio.

  ‘I thought you’d never get here,’ she said when she saw them. Billie and Aladdin were both gasping for breath. Billie dug out her key.