‘Only for the last two or three thousand years,’ said Ben, interrupting again. ‘Anyway, this is a very special night for the Chowbar Society.’
‘We’re disbanding,’ said Michael.
‘Hark, the dead do speak,’ remarked Roshan, surprised to hear him talk.
Sheere looked around the group, trying to hide her amusement at the crossfire between them.
‘What Michael means is that today we’re holding the last meeting of the Chowbar Society,’ Ben explained. ‘After seven years, the final curtain.’
‘What a shame,’ said Sheere. ‘For the first time in my life I come across a real secret society, and it’s about to disband. I won’t have time to become a member.’
‘Nobody said that new members were accepted,’ said Isobel, quick as a flash. She’d been listening in to the conversation, her eyes never leaving the intruder. ‘In fact, if it hadn’t been for the resident bigmouths here who’ve already broken one of the oaths, you wouldn’t even know it existed. All they need is a glimpse of skirt and they’d sell their souls.’
Sheere offered Isobel a conciliatory smile, struck by the slight hostility in her tone. It was not easy to accept not being the only girl.
‘According to Voltaire, the worst misogynists are always women,’ said Ben casually.
‘And who the hell is Voltaire?’ snapped Isobel. ‘Only your twisted mind could come out with such rubbish.’
‘Ignorance has spoken!’ replied Ben. ‘Although perhaps Voltaire didn’t say exactly that …’
‘Stop fighting,’ Roshan intervened. ‘Isobel is right. We shouldn’t have said anything.’
Sheere watched nervously as the mood appeared to darken in a matter of seconds.
‘I don’t want to cause an argument. I’d better return to my grandmother. I’ll forget everything you’ve said,’ she stated, returning the lemonade glass to Ben.
‘Not so fast, princess,’ Isobel exclaimed behind her.
Sheere turned to face the girl.
‘Now that you know something, you might as well know everything and then keep it secret,’ she said, offering an embarrassed half-smile. ‘I’m sorry about what I said earlier.’
‘Good idea,’ said Ben. ‘Go on.’
Sheere raised her eyebrows.
‘She’ll have to pay the admission fee,’ Siraj reminded Isobel.
‘I haven’t got any money …’
‘We’re not a church – we don’t want your money,’ replied Seth. ‘The price is something else.’
Sheere scanned each face in search of an answer. Ian smiled back at her.
‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,’ the boy explained. ‘The Chowbar Society holds its meetings in the dead of night at a secret location. We each pay the price of entry when we join.’
‘Where’s the secret location?’
‘It’s a palace,’ replied Isobel. ‘The Midnight Palace.’
‘Never heard of it.’
‘Nobody has except us,’ Siraj said.
‘And what is the price?’
‘A story,’ replied Ben. ‘A personal, secret story you have never told anyone else. You share it with us and then your secret will never leave the Chowbar Society.’