The Lost Days of Summer (30 page)

Nell, doubled up with laughter, grabbed Maggie’s arm and began to propel her towards the gate. ‘Oh, Maggie, you’ve certainly settled his hash,’ she said breathlessly as they went. ‘Eifion was saying the other day that geese have pretty good memories, which is why they never attack the person who feeds them. I reckon they’ll never forget the person who punches them between the eyes either.’

They reached the gate, tumbled through it and latched it behind them, both now giggling helplessly. ‘Don’t you go a-tale clattin’ on me to your aunt,’ Maggie warned, ‘or that old goose won’t be the only one to gerra punch. Now where’s you goin’ to take me next?’

Nell looked at Bryn’s wristwatch; she always thought of it as his and was glad to think of him every time she looked at its bright little face. ‘We’ll go into the kitchen and I’ll show you how to mix meal and peelings or scraps of vegetable in the swill bucket, for the hens and pigs,’ she said. ‘D’you know, it’s going to be real fun having someone my own age to chat to.’

As they approached the farmhouse once more, Nell was heading for the back door when Maggie caught hold of her arm. ‘Hang on a mo, Nellie. When we come back from the station, me an’ Auntie Kath, you looked a bit flustered like. Didn’t you like the look o’ me, or were it somethin’ else, somethin’ you’d been doin’ which you didn’t fancy your aunt gettin’ to know about?’

Nell blinked; the older girl was not only quick-witted and fun to be with, she was shrewd as well. But Nell did not intend to let Maggie into any secrets until she knew her a lot better, so she frowned thoughtfully before she spoke. ‘I hope I know better than to judge by appearances,’ she said rather reproachfully. ‘Though you weren’t at all as I’d imagined you. In my mind’s eye I saw you as not very tall and quite plump. We didn’t know how old you were, either, and though I realise now that you had to be older than me to be taken on by the Land Army, I’d not thought of that at the time; I think I expected you to be my age, sixteen. Then there was your address. Remember, we’d been told that you lived in Brompton Avenue, which is very posh, so Auntie, Eifion and I thought you’d be . . . well, a bit snooty, looking down on us, sort of. As for my keeping secrets from my aunt, I don’t do that; she’s the one who keeps secrets —’ Nell stopped speaking; it was all she could do to stop her hand flying to her mouth and a horrified gasp escaping from her lips. The very word ‘secrets’ had reminded her of something she had completely forgotten. When she had rushed across to the attic window and stuck her head out, then hurried to the stair and begun to descend, her only thought had been to lower the trapdoor soundlessly and hide the books she had borrowed before returning to the kitchen.

Now it occurred to her for the first time that she had not bothered to hide the kaleidoscope when she fled the attic, far less return it to its place deep in the old tea chest. If her aunt should take it into her head to go up the narrow wooden stair and push open the trapdoor, the first thing she would see would be the brightly coloured toy cast down on the horsehair sofa, the old cane-bottomed chair, or indeed on the dusty floor! But it would never do to tell Maggie that she had been up there, nor that Auntie Kath, without precisely forbidding her to do so, had intimated that the attic was no place for her niece. So she was relieved when the back door opened and her aunt’s head appeared round it.

‘Come along, you two,’ she called. ‘I’ve started mixing the meal with buttermilk, but I want Maggie to see how it’s done so she can take a turn at it tomorrow.’

The rest of the day passed uneventfully so far as Nell was concerned, though of course everything was new and strange to Maggie. By the time they made their way up the stairs to their bedrooms, Nell could see the signs of fatigue on her companion’s face and realised that the day had been an exhausting one for someone unused to country living. She bade Maggie a cheerful goodnight, however, telling her it would not be necessary to set her alarm since she, Nell, would knock on her door at around six o’clock. ‘My aunt serves breakfast between half past six and seven, so we start our day’s work on a full stomach,’ she explained. ‘I filled your jug with water for washing earlier in the day, but I hope you managed to bring some soap with you because that’s something which doesn’t grow on farms, or on trees for that matter.’

Maggie gave a tired little giggle. ‘I nicked a bar of Yardley’s off of Miz Avery the day I left,’ she said proudly. ‘If you’re short, we could cut it in two and have half each.’

‘Gosh, thanks,’ Nell said. ‘But don’t go telling Auntie Kath you nicked it. She’s so perishin’ upright she’d probably make you take it back!’

Maggie snorted. ‘I reckon that mean old cat owed me a deal more than a tablet of rose-scented soap,’ she said. ‘Do you know she wouldn’t pay me for the last week I worked there? She said as how, since I were goin’ to desert her, the Land Army ought to pay me. I began to point out that I’d done me work as usual – got her messages, cooked her meals, cleaned that bloody great house – but she just tightened her lips and said she reckoned I’d ate a week’s worth of wages or more and then she marched out of the kitchen and slammed the door behind her.’

‘What a horrible woman. No wonder you ate everything but your plate at suppertime,’ Nell said, laughing, then realised when she saw the stricken expression on the other girl’s face that her words had been tactless to say the least. Quickly, she gave Maggie a playful nudge. ‘Only joking; we all eat like starving refugees because farm work is so hard.’ She opened her bedroom door. ‘See you in the morning, Maggie.’ The other girl had entered her own bedroom and was about to close the door behind her when Nell said what she had been longing to say all afternoon. ‘Oh, by the way, d’you mind calling me Nell, and not Nellie? I’ve an aunt called Nellie and every time you say it I look over my shoulder expecting to see a big fat old lady with a red face standing behind me.’

‘Sorry, Nell. I’ll try to remember,’ the other girl said cheerfully. ‘I hates it when folks call me Margaret; they always called me that in school when I were in trouble. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, sweet dreams,’ Nell called back as she closed her own door. Then she blew out her candle and rolled up the blackout blind, but did not immediately begin to undress. She meant to wait until the whole household slumbered; then she would sneak up to the attic, find the kaleidoscope and push it to the very bottom of the tea chest, so if her aunt decided to visit there would be no sign of her own presence.

However, the day just past had been a tiring one, and despite sitting close to the window in order that the breeze might keep her awake Nell fell asleep, to awake with a jerk in the early hours. For a moment she could not imagine what had woken her nor why she was lying on her bed, fully clothed and with a nasty taste in her mouth. Then she remembered. She had been going to visit the attic, and a glance at her wristwatch told her that it was two in the morning, which must mean that both her aunt and Maggie were fast asleep and would not hear her ascent.

She had taken off her shoes before sitting down on the bed and now she padded across the room and opened the door. She had never before noticed how the hinges creaked, nor how the boards protested as she trod softly across them. She was halfway to the attic stair when a quavering voice addressed her.

‘Nell, is that you? Did I wake you? I’m awful sorry I shruck out, but I heard that awful scream from outside and somethin’ tapped on me window . . . I’d only just dropped asleep an’ before I thought, I’d yelled.’

Nell stared at Maggie’s white face, illumined in the light coming through her own open bedroom door. ‘So it
was
you,’ she said with an attempt at lightness. ‘Actually, I’d only just dropped off myself, but I’m sure we’ll both go back to sleep pretty quickly. The wind’s got up, so it would be the walnut tree branch tapping against your window. The scream was a vixen – don’t you remember me telling you about night noises?’

‘I do now,’ Maggie mumbled. ‘I’m awful sorry I woke you. Goodnight again.’

‘Night,’ Nell said, retreating into her own room and shutting the door firmly behind her. What rotten luck! But at least Maggie had not noticed that Nell was fully dressed. I’ll try the attic later, she decided, but she undressed and got into bed because in her heart she knew she would not make the attempt again tonight. Sure enough, the next time she woke it was broad daylight and her alarm clock was tinkling.

For the next three or four days, Nell was too busy to venture up to the attic, but on the Friday following Maggie’s arrival they had an exhausting day chasing sheep. One of the old ewes had managed to barge her way through the hedge and naturally the whole flock had followed her. By the time Eifion had come panting back to the farmhouse with the news of the escape, the flock had spread out and it had taken all four of them, as well as Whisky and Fly, to round them up. Consequently, supper was late, and since Friday was always bath night and Auntie Kath refused to go to bed herself stinking of sheep, or to let the girls skip the weekly ritual, it was three very weary females who eventually climbed the stairs to bed.

Nell, exhausted though she was, glanced at her wristwatch. It was ten o’clock; if she could just keep awake for an hour, surely she should be able to visit the attic secretly? Accordingly, she sat on her bed in her nightie and dressing gown, pinching herself and applying a wet flannel to the back of her neck whenever she felt drowsy. At last her little watch showed eleven o’clock and she found herself gently easing up the trapdoor and entering the forbidden room.

But it seemed all her care had been in vain; the kaleidoscope was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t on the dusty floor, nor on the horsehair sofa, nor on the cane-bottomed chair. Nell frowned; had she returned it to the tea chest after all? She did not think so, but she supposed that in her panic she might have done almost anything. She tiptoed across to the box and began to rummage inside, then received a dreadful shock as a voice spoke behind her. ‘And what might you be doing, miss? I seem to recall telling you that the attic wasn’t safe.’

Nell turned to face the speaker, feeling the colour drain from her cheeks. ‘Auntie Kath, you damn near killed me with fright!’ she exclaimed. ‘What on earth are you doing up here at this time of night?’

‘I’ve just asked you the same question,’ her aunt said grimly. She was standing on the stair, her body only visible from the waist up, but now she completed her climb and looked critically around her. ‘Well? I’m waiting for an answer, but I suspect I already know what you’ll say, if you’re going to tell me the truth, that is. You’ve come for the kaleidoscope.’

Nell looked up at Auntie Kath and was suddenly afraid. In the pale moonlight her aunt’s face looked like the face of a stranger. Her eyes were set in deep black hollows and her hair, which usually fell softly round her face, was pulled back into its bedtime plait. She looked formidable, frightening. When Nell spoke at last, she could hear the tremor in her own voice, but was unable to prevent it from shaking. ‘Oh dear, I just
knew
you’d catch me out one day,’ she said distractedly. ‘I came up here when I had the measles, to find myself something to read. There were lots of books, including some on farming; I’ve been reading them whenever I’ve had a chance, and then changing them for others. I’m awful sorry, Auntie, but I was so bored and lonely, particularly after Bryn went. That was why I started rummaging through some of the boxes. I was after games, playing cards, anything to keep me occupied—’

‘And you found the kaleidoscope,’ her aunt said harshly. ‘Did you discover that – that it’s not just a toy?’

‘If you mean did I find the photograph, yes I did,’ Nell said after a moment’s agonising thought. She knew her aunt had every right to be angry, but dreaded being thought a snooper. ‘But even after I’d seen the photograph, I couldn’t see why you wanted the attic kept secret, and I still don’t see why. After all, what I really wanted was books. If you’d just nipped up with an old sack or something, filled it with books and brought it down to me, I wouldn’t have dreamed of coming up here myself.’

‘Wouldn’t you? Well you
do
surprise me,’ her aunt said sarcastically. ‘From what I’ve seen, you’re as curious as a cat. Eifion mentioned that you’d asked him where Owain’s photograph might be after I took it off the mantelpiece. That was on the day way back in March when I went to Valley to sell . . . good Lord, I’ve got it now! That must have been the first time you were alone in the house for a couple of hours.’ Suddenly and unexpectedly, she turned towards her niece, giving her a rueful grin. ‘I suppose you could say it was all my own fault. I told you that the attic floor was rotten and there were rats, so though I never actually forbade you to come up here I suppose I made it pretty plain that I didn’t want you ferreting around. Now I come to think of it, anyone with a bit of gumption would have come up, just to see what the attic was really like. But even after I realised you’d been coming up here fairly often—’

‘You realised?’ Nell squeaked. ‘And you never said a word! Why didn’t you tell me off, or at least let me know you knew?’

Auntie Kath shrugged. ‘I guess it was because I realised you’d found me out in a lie; the attic floor is as sound as a bell and of course there are no rats. On the other hand, there are a great many books. When I think back I’m ashamed of myself; Owain loved his books and would have been thrilled to know that they gave you pleasure.’ She turned back towards the trapdoor, beckoning her niece to follow. ‘But this is neither the time nor the place to discuss such matters. We’ll go down to the kitchen and make a pot of tea and I’ll tell you all about the kaleidoscope. Do you want to select some books before we leave? And one thing: I’d rather you didn’t bring Maggie up here. I’m sure she’s as honest as the day, but she’s paid to do farm work, not to come meddling. I’ll explain why over that cup of tea.’

It seemed strange, Nell reflected ten minutes later, to be sitting in the kitchen in the middle of the night, clad in nightie, dressing gown and slippers, whilst her aunt bustled about getting out shortbread biscuits, ginger nuts and two large Bakelite mugs. When the tea was made and poured, she and her aunt sat side by side in the creaking old basket chairs, glad of the warmth from the fire, and exchanged quizzical glances.