Eight Days of Luke (14 page)

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Authors: Diana Wynne Jones

BOOK: Eight Days of Luke
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“Oh drat!” said Luke, looking quite as mournful as David felt. “I think you're right. Just as we were enjoying ourselves too. The trouble is, I've remembered what it must be that I did. It's the only thing I can think of, so it must be. And the person I did it for is dead—years ago—and I shall never be able to prove it wasn't me. I shall just
have
to keep out of the way.”

“Creep off now,” said David, “and I'll see you Monday. Mr. Wedding promised me he wouldn't put you in prison or punish you if he couldn't find you by Sunday.”

“That does seem pretty watertight,” said Luke. “Though, knowing him, there must be a catch in it somewhere. All right. See you Monday.” He gave David his most engaging smile and waded quietly up among the tall reeds until he was hidden by them. For a second or so, David could hear his footsteps swishing in reeds and water. Then there was no noise except the river and Astrid laughing over the water.

David sighed. For twenty minutes or so he stayed sadly pottering about on the reedbank, to give Luke time to get away. Friday, Saturday and Sunday already seemed like three years. He left the mussels to rot and went back to Astrid.

The ginger-haired man looked up and smiled as David came wading alone across the river. “Luke gone?” he said. David nodded. “Can't say I blame him,” the man said, and got up to go too. “I'll see you both again,” he said, and shook David's river-scented hand before he went striding away along the riverbank.

“David, you stink,” said Astrid. “Like a fishmonger. You need a bath. Come on.”

They drove home, and David had a bath because he felt he owed it to Astrid. But he felt sad. Monday was months away. He still felt sad when Cousin Ronald announced that he had sacked Mr. Chew. He did not feel really alarmed when Aunt Dot said:

“David, I want to ask you about a joint of meat.”

“You mean that meat that was in the drive?” said Astrid.

“I do,” said Aunt Dot. “It came from our refrigerator.”

“How queer!” said Astrid. “But David doesn't know any more about it than I do. We both saw it when I was driving him out to meet Luke, and we both wondered about it like anything, didn't we, David?” Then, before Aunt Dot could say more, Astrid turned to Uncle Bernard. “Poor Dad-in-law,” she said. “I've never seen you look so frail. Do you think you should go to bed? I do hope I haven't given you this sore throat of mine.”

When Astrid was winning twenty-two to seventeen, Cousin Ronald told her angrily that he would send for an ambulance if she said another word.

11
THE FRYS

I
t was raining a little the next day, but the ravens still kept watch, one at the front and one at the back of the house.

“Those great birds make me nervous,” Astrid remarked as they were finishing breakfast. “What do they think they're doing?”

“I don't suppose they think at all,” said Cousin Ronald. He was in a bad temper because he had been forced to dismiss Mr. Chew. “Their heads must be almost as empty as yours.”

Astrid said nothing. She simply got up and went out of the room.

“Stupid woman!” Cousin Ronald called after her.

“She is tiresome,” Aunt Dot agreed. “You have a great deal to put up with, Ronald.”

“So has Astrid,” David pointed out.

“Well!” said Aunt Dot.

“Go up to your room,” said Uncle Bernard.

“I only said—” began David.

“Do as you're told, you rude little beast!” said Cousin Ronald. Red with anger he pounced on David, seized hold of his ear and forced him to stand up. When David stood up, they were rather ridiculous, since David was actually a trifle taller than Cousin Ronald, and this made Cousin Ronald angrier than ever. David was afraid he was going to pull his ear off.

Mrs. Thirsk came in, looked at David with grim satisfaction, and said: “Mr. and Mrs. Fry have called. Shall I show them to the drawing room?”

“Yes, of course,” said Aunt Dot.

“I really can't meet these people,” quavered Uncle Bernard, going frail on the spot.

But before Mrs. Thirsk could move from the doorway, Mr. and Mrs. Fry came pushing jovially past her into the dining room. David stared. They were two huge, glad people, larger than life, with bright fair hair and genial beaming faces. They seemed to fill the room. They laughed. Their voices rang out. Cousin Ronald let go of David's ear in a hurry, and Aunt Dot went to meet the visitors in the gracious manner she kept for meeting visitors.

Mr. Fry put his arm round Aunt Dot. “We must get to know one another better, my dear,” he said, regardless of Aunt Dot's rigid, frigid face, and he laughed loudly. No one could have been more unlike old, courteous Mr. Fry with the rose spray.

“And we've never met!” Mrs. Fry said to Uncle Bernard, and she pushed him playfully in the chest. Uncle Bernard first yipped indignantly and then sank back in his chair, frail almost to vanishing point. Mrs. Fry turned and beamed on Cousin Ronald. She was even more overpowering than Mr. Fry because she was very lovely as well as very large. She was like a huge poster of a film star. “I wish I'd met you before!” she said, and seized both Cousin Ronald's hands, which made Cousin Ronald go very pink and simper a little.

Mr. Fry advanced glistening on Mrs. Thirsk. “My friend!” he said. In spite of her protests, he forced Mrs. Thirsk to the nearest chair and made her sit down. “No, no,” he said. “Let's have no distinctions here. Sit, friend.”

“No, I never,” said Mrs. Thirsk. “Not in all my born. Never.” And she sat there gasping.

Mrs. Fry came on to David. David backed away. She gave him a most peculiar feeling. It was not unpleasant, but it felt too strong for him. “Hallo youngster,” she said gladly. “I like you.”

“Er—thanks,” said David, and he wondered who on earth these huge imposters could be.

Somehow, the Frys had them all sitting down, all looking half pleased, half unsure, even Aunt Dot. Mrs. Fry talked cheerfully about the weather and about gardening. And David's relations, in a stunned way, talked too.

“Oh, by the way,” said Mr. Fry, laughing, “has any of you seen Luke? We seem to have lost him.”

David's stomach tipped a little. He was now sure that the Frys were another of Mr. Wedding's resources.

“I am also anxious to see Luke again,” said Aunt Dot. “I have asked repeatedly—”

Astrid came into the room just then. She had put on a new dress, perhaps in honor of the visitors, but more probably, David suspected, because she was miserable. Her face had its most pinched, discontented look.

Both Frys took one look at her and burst out laughing.

Astrid, not unnaturally, went extremely red. “What's so funny?” she said.

Mr. Fry was still laughing. But David distinctly heard Mrs. Fry say to him, under cover of his laughter: “What shall we do with this one?”

David felt really angry. He wanted to bang their flaxen heads together. When both Frys got up to make Astrid sit down with the others, David jumped up too and took hold of Mr. Fry by his large warm arm. “What did you have to laugh at Astrid for?” he said. “It's rude.” Mr. Fry looked down at him in surprise, with his blond eyebrows raised. “And don't you dare do anything to her, either,” said David.

“My dear boy!” said Mr. Fry, bubbling over with amusement. “I only laughed because she was miserable when there wasn't any need. And all I'd do to her would be to make her happier.”

David thought he was odious, and he would have told him so, except that the French windows bumped open behind him at that moment and he turned to see why. Mr. Chew quietly trudged in from the garden, with his hat misted in raindrops.

Cousin Ronald bounced up. “I told you to leave yesterday!” he said indignantly.

“Yes, but I came back, didn't I?” Mr. Chew pointed out.

“Then I go,” said Mrs. Thirsk, bouncing up in her turn.

“No, no, sit down,” said Mr. Fry, and pushed her back into her chair.

“Mr. Fry!” Aunt Dot said majestically. “I—”

But the door to the hall opened and Mr. Wedding came in. One of the ravens was sitting on his shoulder. Aunt Dot stared. “Good morning,” Mr. Wedding said pleasantly. “There's actually no need to keep everybody here, Fry. I've found some of the answers.”

“Which of them did let Luke out?” said Mrs. Fry.

Mr. Wedding's one strange blue eye met David's. “That was David,” he said. “He admitted it quite readily. It appears it was an accident.”

“Accident!” said Mr. Chew. “Well, I got the right one anyway.”

David realized that when Mr. Wedding took him out to lunch, he had not even been sure that David was the person he wanted. He had made David admit it by being friendly, just as Luke had feared. “You cheated me,” he said. “You pretended you knew anyway.”

“Don't get angry,” Mrs. Fry said soothingly. “That's his way. He's done that to cleverer people than you in his time.”

“All the same—” said David, not at all soothed.

“Quiet, boy!” said Uncle Bernard. “Mr. Wedding, will you please be good enough to explain this intrusion.”

“Certainly,” said Mr. Wedding. “It shouldn't take long. All I want is for David to show me how to find his friend Luke.”

“Then in that case,” said Uncle Bernard, “as I am an old man and ailing, you know, I think I shall go upstairs.” Looking his very frailest, he got up vigorously and tottered swiftly out of the room. David felt rather glad he had gone. He would only have made things even more difficult if he had stayed.

“And may I go?” inquired Mrs. Thirsk. “I'm not staying in the room with that Chew, so I warn you.”

“Get out then,” said Mr. Chew. “Or I'll give you some help.”

Mrs. Thirsk gave him a nasty look and swept out to the kitchen.

“It gives me great distress,” stated Aunt Dot, “that David should be causing this trouble. I hope he has done nothing very wrong, Mr. Wedding.”

“Nothing at all,” said Mr. Wedding. “Luke's the one who's done wrong.”

“Then you're abetting a criminal, David,” said Cousin Ronald. “You'll be lucky to stay out of Court and I wash my hands of you. The one thing I won't tolerate is criminal practices. Come on, Mother. Get up, Astrid. Let's leave the brat to it.”

“I advise you to make a clean breast of it, David,” Aunt Dot said as she got up.

“Are you two really going?” said Astrid. “You know David's in a mess and all you can think of is to leave him to it!”

“Naturally, if David had committed the crime, I should stand by him,” said Aunt Dot, progressing to the door. “But we have Mr. Wedding's assurance that the criminal is Luke. I must say I am disappointed in Luke. I thought he was a nice child.” She had reached the door by this time. Mr. Fry, looking highly amused, held it open for her, and Aunt Dot nodded frigidly to him as she marched out. Cousin Ronald dodged out after her under Mr. Fry's arm. Mr. Fry shut the door behind them with a flourish.

David was neither surprised nor sorry that they had gone, but he was a little uncomfortable when Astrid stayed where she was. She, like the others, was assuming this was a police investigation, and David knew it could be nothing of the kind.

“Don't you try to put any twist on David,” she told Mr. Wedding, “or you'll have me to reckon with. He's only a kid.”

“Bravo!” said Mr. Fry.

“Shut up, you!” said Astrid. Mr. Fry laughed so heartily that he made Astrid feel awkward. She opened her handbag and pretended to look for something.

“Now David,” said Mr. Wedding, “I suggest we fetch Luke.”

“No,” said David. “I'm not going to and you can't make me.”

“Don't be so sure of that,” Mr. Chew said nastily.

“No you don't!” Astrid said. She had an unlit cigarette in her mouth and she glared at Mr. Chew across it. “You try it, mate! David, have you got a match? I've lost mine again.”

“No,” said David. “Find your own. You've not looked.” Astrid bent and sorted fruitlessly through her bag. Panic began to rise in David as he realized just what a danger to Luke that unlit cigarette was. He looked in a hunted way from the pity beaming in the faces of the two Frys, to Mr. Chew's beady stare, and on to Mr. Wedding. The raven was looking at him in an interested manner, but Mr. Wedding was watching Astrid.

“Would you like to go and find some matches?” Mr. Wedding said to her politely.

“No, it's all right,” said Astrid. “You don't get rid of me like that. David's got some matches. I won't tell, David.”

“Uncle Bernard will smell it if you smoke in here,” David said desperately.

“Who cares about that old so-and-so?” said Astrid. “Come on, David. I'm dying for a fag.”

“Smoking,” said David, “is very bad for you.”

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