The Deptford Mice 2: The Crystal Prison (23 page)

Arthur and Twit slept all day so Audrey had no-one of her own age to talk to. She felt bored and lonely, and the Hall of Corn began to feel like a jail. Once she spotted Iris Crowfoot carrying a bowl of water for her mother. Audrey waved but Mrs Crowfoot scolded her daughter for daring to smile back. How could anyone think that she was connected with the murder of Hodge? It was too ridiculous for words! Audrey would have laughed at their silliness if she was not so worried and afraid.

Alison Sedge sat in the meadow weaving a necklace of forget-me-knots. As she worked, she mulled over her suspicions. She hated Audrey with all her heart. She wished that Mr Nettle had struck her instead of Jenkin – Alison would like to see Audrey’s lip swell up like a blackberry. That would spoil her fairy looks! She cursed the ill-fortune which had brought the town mouse to her field – just when she was having a bit of fun with the boys too. It had been a good start to the summer, she had been admired by everyone, and had flirted with everyone.

Suddenly Alison shuddered. A horrible thought occurred to her. One of her suitors now lay under the earth: if she had been nicer to him on that fateful day would Hodge still be alive now? Young Whortle was missing as well – she hoped he was safe. If things got any worse there would be no boys left for her to flirt with.

The meadow grass rustled close by. Alison sprang to her feet and backed away nervously.

‘Who’s there?’ she asked.

‘Oh, is that you, Alison Sedge?’ It was Jenkin’s voice and he sounded none too happy at meeting her.

Quickly Alison sat down again and struck her most casual and alluring pose. ‘Over here Jolly Jenkin,’ she invited huskily.

He came into sight through the silvery flowering grasses, and Alison beckoned him over. His eye was purple and the lip was bleeding again.

‘Oh Jenkin,’ she cried in alarm. ‘You look awful, this is a real baddun this time. You rest there,’ she added kindly. ‘I’ll go fetch some water to bathe that eye in.’

But Jenkin wouldn’t have it. ‘I’ll be aright in a bit,’ he explained.

‘Is it very sore?’ she asked. His eye was an angry bluey purple and she could actually see the lip throbbing. Alison wanted to throw her arms about him and make it all better. This was what she wanted, and at that moment she realised that all her flirting had simply been a waste of time. Time that should have been spent with Jenkin.

‘Oh Jenkin,’ she said moving closer, ‘your dad’s horrible to you – p’raps it’s time you left him an’ built a nest of your own in the Hall.’

With his good eye Jenkin regarded Alison coolly. Her creamy hair brushed against his arm and her breath smelt of wild strawberries. There had been a time – not long ago – when he had prayed for her to be near him like this, but not now. He stood up and moved away.

‘Were my fault these,’ he said meaning his bruises. ‘I oughtn’t a mentioned Miss Brown – my dad don’t like her.’

Alison was slightly vexed. He had interrupted her just as she was about to kiss him. ‘I don’t like her either,’ she snapped. ‘She ain’t right in the head an’ I think she’s got summat to do with Hodge.’

‘Pah,’ snorted Jenkin, ‘you’m just jealous. Not even my dad really believed that rubbish, he just said it to make her look bad.’

‘But Jenkin,’ protested Alison. ‘She told me, she said that she’d choke anyone what got in her way.’

‘Shut it Alison, don’t bother.’ Jenkin turned and looked away. ‘Y’see,’ he confessed shyly, ‘I likes Miss Brown a heck of a lot and nothing you can say will change that.’

He left Alison on her own. She twisted her fingers round the necklace she had just made and tore it off. In a cascade of tiny blue petals Alison Sedge wept bitterly to herself.

Audrey lay in her nest staring at the starry sky. Everyone had gone to bed – everyone except for Arthur and the other night sentries. Twit was not allowed to join them till he was fully recovered. His throat was still sore and his voice was hoarse and croaky.

Audrey wondered how much longer she could go on living in Fennywolde if the hostile atmosphere continued. Her job as companion to Madame Akkikuyu was more or less over now – she had only seen the rat briefly that day at lunch but she was so popular with everyone that they had only said a few words before someone grabbed the rat and invited her to join them.

There was one thing that really puzzled Audrey. Madame Akkikuyu looked different. For some time she had not been able to put her finger on what it was. Then she realised. The fortune-teller was no longer black – her fur was changing colour! Now she was a sleek chestnut and it seemed to get lighter with every day. It was most peculiar, but the Fennywolders believed that it was the country air and sunshine that was the cause.

Madame Akkikuyu certainly looked very different to the pathetic creature Audrey had seen in the Starwife’s chamber. She had grown strong and if not fat then well-padded.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a small, polite voice whispering under the nest entrance.

‘Miss Brown,’ it said.

‘Who is it?’ she whispered back.

‘It’s me – Jenkin.’

‘Oh.’ Audrey was surprised. ‘What do you want?’

‘To talk to you – meet me down here when you’re ready.’

Quickly she pulled on her clothes and tied up her hair with her best ribbon. What could Jenkin want at this time of night? It had to be very important. She climbed down the ladder and stood before him. Even in the pale moonlight she could see the marks left by his father’s hard paw.

His eyes lit up when he saw her.

‘You always do look nice,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ she blushed. ‘What is it you want?’

Jenkin looked round furtively. ‘I can’t tell ’ee here,’ he said shyly. ‘Can we go somewhere a bit private like?’

‘Yes, all right,’ she consented, extremely curious. Jenkin led her out of the Hall of Corn by a small side entrance, taking care that the sentries did not see them.

‘Why all this secrecy?’ she asked him.

‘My dad’s forbid me to see you,’ came the reply in a hushed voice. ‘He says you’re a town heathen who don’t know good from bad.’

Audrey felt that there was quite a lot she could say about Mr Nettle but for once she held her tongue and let Jenkin continue.

‘He tells me you ain’t worth a crumb, that you’re wicked all through an’ that since you’ve come here we ain’t had nowt but misery an’ death.’

This was quite enough! Audrey felt herself near to exploding. ‘If that’s all you’ve got to tell me I might as well go back now. I’ve got a brother who can tell me all that and more besides, thank you very much. In fact, if I don’t go now you’ll find yourself with another black eye.’

To her astonishment he laughed. Not an unkind, mocking laugh, but a gentle good-humoured chuckle. ‘Reckon you could do it too,’ he said. ‘But don’t go yet – not till I’ve had my say. Look, we’re all right here now. There ain’t no-one to listen.’

The moonlight fell on his fine hair, and for the first time Audrey noticed that he had combed it. He swallowed hard and began.

‘I told you what my dad thinks,’ he lumbered on awkwardly, ’cos that don’t matter to me no more. I’m never goin’ back to him or our winter quarters – I’ve left.’

‘Good for you Jenkin,’ said Audrey, not yet seeing what he was driving at. Was that berrybrew: she could smell on his breath?

‘Tomorrow I shall start a-buildin’ a nest round the Hall,’ he told her proudly, the stars sparkling in his round, excited eyes. ‘What I’m sayin’, Miss Brown – Audrey – is . . . well, I’d like you to share that nest with me. Cos I loves you and wants . . . to wed you . . .’ He stared at her hopefully, then uttered something under his breath, ‘Darn I forgot!’ and quickly he knelt down on one knee. ‘You don’t have to answer straight away like – think it over.’

Audrey was bewildered. A proposal of marriage was the last thing she had expected and it took some time for it to properly sink in.

‘You really want to marry me?’ She sounded shocked and slightly amused.

‘More than anything – that’s the Green honest truth.’ He watched her intently with wide, trusting eyes like a baby.

Audrey’s heart went out to him. The plain truth was that she did not love him, but a strong desire to see Piccadilly again grew in her.

She knelt down beside Jenkin and took his paw in hers. ‘Oh Jenkin,’ she said slowly, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t want to hurt your feelings but I can’t accept. I’m extremely flattered but no – you see I now know that I love another. I never realised it before.’

Jenkin hung his head. Audrey felt so sorry for him but she remembered the Eve of Midsummer and knew that Alison was meant for him.

‘There is someone who cares for you very much,’ she said, trying to break through his barrier of sullen silence.

‘Who’s that then?’ he asked miserably. ‘Alison Sedge,’ Audrey replied and she squeezed his paw tightly.

‘Tuh,’ sniffed Jenkin. ‘She don’t care for no-one but herself,’ he answered thickly.

‘Was she always like that?’

‘No – there was a time when me an’ Alison went around together quite a bit but then she got her mousebrass an’ everything changed.’

‘Then it can change again, Jenkin,’ urged Audrey, ‘forget about me – I’m just getting in the way of the two of you. I know that you and she are meant for one another. Truly.’

There was such a ring of certainty in her voice that Jenkin looked up at her and for a second caught a flash of green fire flicker in her eyes.

He gasped and Audrey kissed his cheek. ‘You just wait,’ she said, ‘you’ll be the one giving her the run around, only don’t make her suffer too much – I’ve already made that mistake.’

‘Have I made a fool of myself?’ asked Jenkin bashfully.

Audrey smiled. ‘Not at all – it’s nice to know that not everyone in Fennywolde thinks I’m a monster.’

But as she said it the hairs on the back of her neck tingled. Suddenly the corn stems were thrust aside and something crashed towards them.

Audrey could not believe her eyes and Jenkin fell back in fear. The corn dolly she had made was lurching towards them! No longer was it the trim, neat figure she had woven but a mass of tangled, twisted stems – bent with hatred and evil spells. The arms which had been pretty corn ears had grown long and wild with spiky fingers which clutched at the air greedily and waved around full of menace.

The nightmare figure staggered towards them, its twiggy fingers outstretched, ready to catch them.

Jenkin acted quickly.

He grabbed Audrey’s paw and dragged her away just in time. ‘Come on!’ he yelled.

Audrey snapped out of her trance and they stumbled off through the field, the figure pursuing them closely. It scraped its untidy skirt over the stony ground and flayed the air with its thin arms, groping for them. Its plaited loop head twisted from side to side, seeming to sense rather than see where it was going.

Jenkin and Audrey ran in blind terror with the papery, crackling sound rustling close behind. She slipped and quick straw fingers grasped at her heels. ‘Aaarh!’ she squealed as they dragged her back and the figure loomed over her, lowering its plaited loop purposefully.

Jenkin beat the straw with his fists and the fingers released Audrey and grabbed him. The loop slipped over his head but he ducked and nipped off with Audrey. ‘Not far to go till we’re out of the field,’ he called to her, ‘then we should be able to go faster.’

Audrey leapt over stones and dodged the stems which blocked her path. Her tail bells jangled wildly as the clutching fingers searched for her hungrily.

‘Quick Audrey, hurry!’ Jenkin had reached the edge of the field and turned round to help her.

She glanced over her shoulder and cried out. The corn dolly bore down on her, sweeping over the stony ground at a terrific speed. It raised its spindly arms and brought them knifing down.

Audrey felt herself yanked backwards. Jenkin had hold of her and he carried her clear of the field.

‘Look Jenkin,’ she gasped, ‘it isn’t following us.’

Jenkin put her down and stared back. The corn dolly remained within the confines of the field, its arms upraised.

‘Why isn’t it chasing us?’ asked Jenkin nervously.

‘Maybe it can only live in the field,’ suggested Audrey. ‘Perhaps it needs to be amongst the growing corn to come alive.’

‘It’s horrible,’ said Jenkin shivering. He frowned; the thing seemed to be waiting for something to happen. It reared back the loop head as though sensing another presence. Jenkin moved his eyes from the straw figure, up to the tops of the dark elms and out into the starry sky—

‘Get down,’ he yelled and roughly pushed Audrey to the ground. It was too late to save himself.

A pale, silent ghost slipped out of the night sky and snatched him up. Jenkin squeaked in pain as Mahooot scooped him up in his vicious talons. He saw the ground disappear below him and heard the owl cackle to itself wickedly.

‘Foood, foood, lovely mooouses.’

Audrey saw the owl swoop into the darkness over the meadow and heard Jenkin’s frightened voice fade away.

Then Audrey screamed.

The corn dolly rustled its pleasure and slunk back into the shadowy cover of the field.

On sentry, Arthur recognised his sister’s voice and soon everyone in Fennywolde was awake and lighting torches. They ran in a blazing line to see why she was making that fearful noise.

Audrey was on her knees when they found her, staring across the meadow with big dark eyes that were dreadful to look on. Arthur shook her to stop the piercing screams.

‘What is it Aud?’ he asked wildly. Without seeing him she pointed out into the sky and said weakly, ‘The owl! The owl has got Jenkin.’

The fieldmice cried out in dismay, but from their midst, one figure stepped forward into the circle of torchlight. It was Jenkin’s father. None dared look at him. His face trembled with emotion and his lips turned white.

‘Jenkin lad,’ he said, sounding as if he had been stabbed. He turned on Audrey and his eyes burned at her accusingly. He raised a quivering finger and pointed. ‘You have done this, you!’

Before she could reply, out of the crowd stepped Madame Akkikuyu. The rat took a torch from one of the fieldmice and held it above her head.

‘So,’ she shouted and all looked to her. ‘Mousey boy got by owly. What you do?’