Read 108. An Archangel Called Ivan Online

Authors: Barbara Cartland

108. An Archangel Called Ivan (10 page)

BOOK: 108. An Archangel Called Ivan
13.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“She must have been a very stupid woman,” Arliva replied angrily. “Tomorrow we will buy you paints and everything that you need and somehow I will find an artist who will come and help you.”

“It sounds great fun,” Johnnie enthused. “Do you think Grandpapa would stop me?”

“No, of course not. Your grandfather wants you to be clever and that means we may well discover all sorts of marvellous things you can do that no one else has achieved before. You could be a great artist in the future and the twins could be singers, dancers or musicians of some sort.”

She paused before she asked,

“How are we to know unless we explore ourselves and find out what we can do that is different from other people?”

Johnnie laughed.

“I would like to explore myself, but I am not quite sure how to go about it.”

“I can teach you that at any rate. Tomorrow we are going shopping and I want you to make a list of everything we need to buy and what it will cost. It is something I hate doing for myself and it would be a great help if you could do it for me.”

She thought as she spoke that it was a strange way of teaching arithmetic, but surely a more useful way than merely adding up columns of figures which meant nothing.

The children became excited at being taken to the town.

“We have never been there before,” they told her, “and it will be new and thrilling to go into the shops and buy what we want.”

“With limitations,” Arliva warned, “because if the bill is too large your grandfather might send me away as being too spendthrift.”

“We want you to stay with us,” the twins cried each slipping their hands into hers.

Johnnie was facing them in the carriage and now he said,

“I know what I want and that is a new bathing suit and the biggest box of paints we can find.”

“That should be easy,” Arliva answered. “Now I have something to tell you that I think you will find very intriguing.”

All six eyes turned to her.

Then she said,

“You know the beautiful fairy wood which we go through each morning, well, I think it would be very selfish of us to keep it to ourselves. So I am going to make it a fairy wood for all the children who live near here.”

She paused for a moment before she went on,

“They will be able to come and see the fairies who will be in the trees and in the grass and we will have very special ones in the middle of the wood and you must help me make it look quite unlike any wood you have ever seen before, because it belongs to the fairies.”

They stared at Arliva as she continued,

“If we ask sixpence from people to come into the wood, we can then give the money to the children’s home or to a school either in the village or in one of the towns.”

There was silence for a moment.

Then Johnnie asked,

“Would people really want to come and see our wood?”

“I am quite sure they will,” Arliva replied. “After all where have you heard of a fairy wood before? I have never heard of one, not where you can see fairies dancing in the trees and hiding in the bushes.”

“Oh, please let’s do it. Please! Please!” the twins cried excitedly. “We will help you, but where will we find the fairies?”

“They are what we are going to find now.”

On her instructions they stopped outside a toy shop that the coachman told her was the largest in the town.

Arliva asked to see the manager and explained to him what they were going to do at Wilson Hall.

At first he was almost too astonished to speak and then he said,

“It’s certainly a most original idea, miss. I think that a great number of people would like to visit the wood and take their children with them.”

“And that is why you have to help us,” Arliva said pleadingly.

The manager became very enthusiastic at the idea.

Snapping his fingers, he sent members of his staff in every direction to find tiny dolls and they collected a considerable number of them.

But, of course, they did not have wings as the twins pointed out to Arliva.

“I have thought of that,” she replied. “I am sure that Mr. Moss, the manager, will be able to help us there.”

“With wings?” he enquired in astonishment.

“They are quite easy to make and, if you can tie small bows of ribbon on their backs, they will look like fairies if they are in the grass or up a tree.”

“You are quite right,” Mr. Moss said, “I had not thought of that.”

By the time they had finished they had collected an enormous number of small dolls.

The saleswomen were already finding stiff ribbons that they said could be tied round the chest of the doll which would stand out like wings behind them.

“We can do some of these ourselves,” Arliva said. “Now we must have a great deal of tinsel, which is used at Christmas and I think some small balloons among the trees would look particularly attractive.”

Everyone serving in the shop was running to bring something else that might look pretty in the wood.

By the time they had finished, Johnnie had written almost four pages of what had been purchased.

“We will take all we can work on back with us,” Arliva informed Mr. Moss. “And perhaps you will be kind enough to send us the remainder of the materials as soon as possible.”

“I certainly will,” Mr. Moss replied. “I am thinking that you will need a great deal more silver tinsel than we have in the shop at present.”

“Perhaps you will find some more stored away,” Arliva suggested, “and please we need it quickly!”

“As quick as it is humanly possible,” he promised. “And I do congratulate you on a very exciting and original idea.”

They drove back to Wilson Hall with the children talking animatedly about what they had bought.

On Arliva’s instructions, instead of turning into the drive when they reached home, they went to the Vicarage.

The Parson, who was old and who had been the Vicar for over fifteen years, greeted the children.

Then he looked questioningly at Arliva, as she held out her hand.

“I am the new Governess,” she told him. “We have come to tell you about an idea that we feel will benefit children in this village and in the neighbouring ones.”

She told the Vicar of the fairy wood and how if they charged sixpence for each person the money could go towards something for the poor children.

“It is the most original idea I have ever heard,” the Vicar said. “And of course you are so right, Miss Parker, people will undoubtedly come from all over the country to see something as new as this. I can only hope the sunshine continues and the wood is as pretty as it is now.”

“I think it’s likely to be a very warm summer,” she replied. “And will you please tell us who you would like the money to be given to.”

“I have thought for a long time,” the Vicar said, “that what we really need is a fund for sick children.”

Arliva did not reply and he went on,

“If they have been ill, instead of convalescing at home where they are sleeping with two or three others and don’t get a chance of peace and quiet that the doctor has prescribed for them, they could go away somewhere else.”

“I know just what you are thinking,” Arliva said excitedly, “holidays for sick children.”

“Exactly,” the Vicar replied. “If we collect enough money, we could take a sick child who has been ill with whooping cough or some other complaint, down to the sea for a week and that would be the best way of getting him or her on their feet again.”

“Of course it would,” Arliva replied. “I do hope we make a lot of money for you.”

“Are you asking me to handle the money side of it?” the Vicar enquired.

“Of course, and we could bring our takings to the Vicarage every evening which would be much better than keeping it at The Hall.”

“I promise that it will be safe with me,” the Vicar answered.

Arliva rose to her feet.

“I must take the children back now,” she said. “But I am so delighted that you approve of our idea. I think it will make a great difference to them.”

The Vicar knew just what she meant without her explaining it any further.

Then he said,

“I have often thought that Johnnie particularly must find it rather dull at The Hall, but with the artist I promise to find for him, he will have new interests and will enjoy life more than he has recently.”

“I hope so too,” Arliva replied, “and thank you very much for being so understanding.”

“The Vicar saw them back to the carriage and they waved as they drove away.

As he walked back to the Vicarage, he was thinking he had perhaps been rather remiss in not doing anything about those three Wilson children, who after their parents were drowned were isolated with their grandfather who was too old to pay any attention to them.

*

Once back at The Hall the children rushed into the kitchen to tell the cook what they had been buying in the town.

While they had been purchasing the fairies at the shop, the footman had obtained for Mrs. Briggs a large amount of food she required that she had never bothered about before.

It was Evans who said that the kitchen had taken on a new aspect since Arliva’s arrival and in fact the whole household was very grateful to her.

“I thought they might think I was too demanding and punish us by giving us nothing but bread and water,” she laughed.

“We’re having dishes I haven’t seen on the table for ten years,” Evans told her. “And I’m not saying I don’t enjoy them myself!”

“All of us enjoy them and once the fairy wood is finished I will have other ideas.”

Arliva was thinking of the lake as she spoke.

She was quite certain there could be parties there where the children could have races in the water and picnic teas in the shade of the trees.

‘One thing at a time,’ she told herself.

*

After luncheon she went to tell the Head Gardener what she was planning for the wood. He was astonished, but gradually she made him see how important it was for the children to meet other children of the same age.

And who could resist a fairy wood even if it was deep in the country?

The next day the work started on the wood.

Every gardener and every boy who could be spared from the stables started work almost as soon as the sun rose.

It was Evans, who after a conversation with Arliva, went to the village and added a dozen men, old and young, to the workers amongst the trees.

Mrs. Lewis and the housemaids were all working at fixing wings to the dolls they had brought back with them from the town.

Mr. Moss kept to his word and a huge hamper of tinsel and more fairies arrived at midday with a promise of another hamper tomorrow.

It was the next day about three o’clock that Arliva, standing a little way back from the wood, thought that in the sunshine it looked exactly as she had wanted it to look and there appeared to be fairies climbing up the branches of every tree.

The gardeners had brought pots of flowers from the greenhouses to ornament the entrance to the wood as well as around the pool in the centre of it.

It was, however, the following day before their first visitors arrived.

They had been sent by the Vicar and they came from another Parish.

The delighted mother of four children gushed,

“I could not believe my ears when they told me that you had a fairy wood here. Of course the children wanted to see it, but I thought that it was just a joke.”

“I hope you think it’s pretty?” Arliva asked.

“Very pretty indeed,” was the reply, “and I had no idea that Johnnie had grown so tall. He is the same age as my son who is coming home tomorrow and, of course, they must meet.”

She hesitated before she went on,

“We have no lake on our estate and Rupert does so enjoy swimming.”

“Then naturally he will be welcome to swim here,” Arliva said.

Johnnie was thrilled with the idea.

“I like Rupert,” he told her. “He used to come and see me a year or so ago and then he stopped coming.”

Arliva knew that it was because they had found the place so dull.

There had been no one at the time to encourage the boys to swim or the girls to walk in the enchanted wood.

*

By the end of the week there had been dozens of visitors and their number increased day by day.

Some of them who came from the town just giggled and pointed to the fairies.

But the children loved them and ran from tree to tree counting the fairies on the branches and looking for those hidden in the grass.

Back at The Hall, Lord Wilson asked for a report every evening of what had occurred.

“You have most certainly put the cat amongst the pigeons,” he said one evening to Arliva.

She laughed.

“I wish you could see how delighted the children are. Even those who think they are too old for fairies are enchanted by those in the pool. And the hobgoblins that Mr. Moss sent us are sitting on the top of the hut.”

“You are a very clever young woman,” the old man remarked. “I never expected this to happen here of all places and it’s very good for the children to have friends of their own age. I am just wondering what you get out of all this.”

“The satisfaction of knowing, my Lord, that I have made quite a number of people happy,” Arliva replied.

“Quite right! Quite right!” he exclaimed. “That is just what a woman should feel.”

*

One day when they had had a good many visitors and Arliva was getting ready for bed and feeling very tired, she thought,

‘At least no one is worrying about me or my money and the compliments I am receiving are genuine. They are given to the fairies and not to my bank account!’

She could not help wondering what they would be feeling about her in London, if they realised why she had disappeared.

However, it did not worry her.

She was already concentrating on planning the big party she intended to give by the lake.

There would be races for the boys and men of all ages.

“I want to win my races,” Johnnie piped up.

“Of course you must win,” Arliva replied. “But, if you are too good as a host, you will have to stand aside and allow one or two other people to win a prize.”

BOOK: 108. An Archangel Called Ivan
13.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Way Back to Happiness by Elizabeth Bass
The Odd Angry Shot by William Nagle
Nightmare Hour by R. l. Stine
Coming Undone by Stallings, Staci
Silk Over Razor Blades by Ileandra Young
Sweet Enemy by Diana Palmer
Crompton Divided by Robert Sheckley
Poet by Juli Valenti
Silent Striker by Pete Kalu