Wicked Runaway: A Mark Cannidor Adventure

Chapter One (Part Two)

‘Oh, Edward!’

It was his mum. Thank goodness for that. Mark had a few more moments to collect his thoughts. He sat himself down on a chair opposite his father, regaining his breath as he waited for his father.

Edward…his father…he couldn’t be…no, it was just impossible…he couldn’t be a wizard…

Shake that thought out of your head, Mark had to tell himself.

‘My apologies,’ Edward said as he returned to the room. ‘I’ve just had a large order for some supplied to take down to the Docklands tomorrow morning, so I’m afraid we shall have to cut our conversation short, young sir. I will be back in time for your birthday tea tomorrow afternoon. I probably shouldn’t tell you this. We have plenty of guests arriving for the occasion. And I believe your mother has a nice surprise or two in store. Perhaps I have given too much away. Don’t tell your mother that I told you. Alas! To bed, methinks’.

Mark was just about to head upstairs to bed. This conversation with his father had been delayed. Just as he had given himself the confidence to ask questions about what he was and who his parents were. He couldn’t see another opportunity like this coming up. Yet, just at that moment, he had the perfect idea.

‘Why don’t I come with you?’ Mark asked.

Edward turned in his chair.

‘You want…to join me?’ Edward stuttered uncertainly, distracting himself by tidying up. ‘I…I’m afraid that’s not quite possible, you see…’

‘Yeah, well…it’s my birthday tomorrow, isn’t it?’ Mark continued. ‘And, well, you don’t turn thirteen every day, do you?’

‘No,’ Edward responded glumly. Mark continued to smile, trying to enlighten the situation. His father was adamant that this was not going to work. He started shuffling papers on his desk, distracting himself from the very though. ‘But your mother would rather insist – I mean, I don’t think she would allow me to take you. In fact, I think it is potentially best that you don’t come down. I hate to be rude, but we all have to do what is best. So, no. Now, if I were you…’.

‘Hang on,’ Mark carried on, interrupting Edward. ‘It is precisely as you said, isn’t it? Mother has a surprise for me tomorrow afternoon. And it is my birthday, after all. I thought a grand day out would have sufficed. So – do you not think it best for me to travel to the Docklands tomorrow morning? Maybe give mum some space? You know what she is like. She’ll need time to prepare, and you know she hates distractions…’

‘Yes, and you can be collecting wood out in the forest while she’s doing that’.

‘Or I could just come with you to the Docklands tomorrow?’

Edward was stunned. It was the most he had heard Mark say over the past few days. And Mark had certainly made quite a few suggestions in such a short space of time. It was supposed to be a busy day tomorrow, and there was a large volume of work that Mark hadn’t seen before now. What could Mark possibly do tomorrow to assist with the operation?

Nonetheless, Mark had really backed his father into a corner this time. He wasn’t prepared to take ‘no’ for an answer.

‘I suppose if you’re sure,’ Edward hesitantly agreed. ‘As long as you are happy lifting a heavy load or two?’

‘Why not?’ Mark said. ‘I’ve seen you lift plenty of loads in your lifetime. It’s easy’.

‘Then it’s a deal,’ Edward sighed. ‘Early to bed with you!’

Mark left his father’s study in a happy mood. It was the first time in such a long while where he felt that he had achieved something. He was going to get some answers out of his father tomorrow. One way or another. He had a thirst for knowledge. Mark was determined to know exactly who his father was and, most importantly, what he was.

Little did Mark realise that, behind closed doors, Edward Cannidor was instantly regretting his decision.

Mark had only just climbed the stairs when his mother stopped him.

‘Are you okay, dear?’ she asked.

Mark smiled down on his mother.

‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling a lot better now’.

Hazel Cannidor smiled affectionately at her son.

‘If there is anything you need to talk about, I am here for you,’ she continued.

‘Thanks,’ Mark replied. ‘In fact, maybe we could talk tomorrow? You know - when we get home from the Docklands?’

Hazel’s smile turned into a nasty frown, one that Mark had never seen before. She had such a dark glint in her eyes that reminded Mark of some sort of old, stubborn witch. Like in some of the fantasy tales Mark had read, his mother reminded him of a villain.

‘The…the Docklands?’ Hazel croaked bitterly. ‘With your father?’ Out on his…delivery?’

‘That’s right,’ Mark replied uncertainly. ‘Maybe father could take me to the fish quay tomorrow too? It is my birthday after all. What do you say?’

Hazel was lost for words. She stood rooted to the spot, fear, anger, and guilt rushing through her. It looked as though she was going to tear someone apart. Mark was prepared to take a step away from her in case she exploded. It looked as though she had been…possessed. Taken over by some sort of evil spirit. It wasn’t possible. Was it? Then, before Mark had a chance to ask if there was a problem, she smiled back at her son.

She had gone from a frightening villain to a kind-hearted fairy in an instant.

‘If you must,’ she said gently. ‘Now, to bed’.

Mark was confused. He continued to bed. However, as he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear the door to the study slam shut. His mother started shouting again. He distinctly heard his mother shout: What the bleeding hell did I tell you what not to do?

Mark did not want to know what was happening. Mark figured his mother might be in a bad mood because he was getting older. It was a silly thought, Mark figured. Yet, he wasn’t going to let that spoil his night.

He entered his room and closed the door behind him. As he climbed into bed, he felt satisfied. Tomorrow was his birthday. Tomorrow, he would be turning thirteen. Normally, children his age did not experience the same adventures as he did. However, Mark knew that tomorrow was going to be an extraordinary day.