The Big House

by Larche Davies

  Putting on her coat, she called, “Right, my dears, we’re off to the shops.”

  Lucy felt a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension, as they stepped out through the wrought-iron gate. She held Paul’s hand tightly and reminded herself that no one would ever find them here. They all followed Miss Clements down a steep road opposite the house. At the bottom, they turned left and then right.

  “Now, stop here and take your bearings,” said Miss Clements when they reached the crossroads in the middle of town. “Look to the right and you’ll see the sea.”

  They stopped and stared. Down to their right, beyond the shops, the road seemed to end suddenly in nothing, and all they could see was a bright-blue sky.

  “The world stops at the end of that street,” said Paul.

  “Now look to your left, and you’ll see the station.”

  They looked.

  “Now look neither to the right nor to the left, my dears. Look straight ahead up the street in front of you, and you will see lots of shops – nicer than the ones by the station, in my opinion. See on the left? That’s the butcher where I buy my meat. Quality is so important when it comes to food. And now for the final direction. Look behind you. If you turn left and then right, you will see the hill that you came down, and at the top of that hill, you’ll see our house.”

  “So we can’t go wrong,” said David. “Sea to the right, station to the left, shops straight ahead and the house behind us.”

  “Good. Well I’m glad you’ve mastered that, because I’ll get my meat and go straight back in case Donald is fretting. You can have a look around. There’s a town clock in a little square up at the top of this street – just beyond the shops, you can see it from here – so make sure you’re back by one o’clock for lunch. Meal times are important.”

  She gave each of them an envelope with a generous supply of pocket money. “You can give yourselves a little treat today, my dears, but be careful because that money came from Mr Lovett and it has to last you a long time. Try and note which shops sell what, so that tomorrow you can do a proper shop for what you really need, for school and daywear.”

  Lucy watched her as she crossed the road. Wasn’t she supposed to keep an eye on them?

  David turned towards the sea. “Let’s explore!” he said.

  They hurried straight down the street to the promenade and then onto a shingle beach. When they had tired of scrunching the fine pebbles under their feet and jumping away from the tiny ripples at the edge of the sea, they strolled along the prom, wandered onto a pier and roamed some backstreets. Then, to their delight, they discovered a castle.

  They stood on a rampart and looked out over the sea. The sky was still a clear blue, and the air was sharp and cold. Seagulls swirled and screeched above them. The wind whipped up their hair and blew through their thin jackets, but it didn’t trouble them. There was no place here for the Magnifico. They felt fresh and free.

  “I like this place,” said Paul.

  Lucy’s heart sang, and her soft, brown curls sprang up in the wind. She could feel Paul’s happiness as well as her own.

  “And me!” David pushed the thick, silver-blond hair out of his eyes. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

  “Well, I don’t see why we shouldn’t,” said Dorothy. “Perhaps by the time the trials are over I’ll be eighteen, and then I can get a job and save my wages. We’ll find a little house and we’ll all come back here to live.”

  They absorbed this picture of a dream life.

  “I suppose you should finish your education first,” said David, after a while. “Go to college or something.”

  “Some people do that even while they’re working. It’s called lifelong learning,” explained Dorothy. “Once I’ve got some qualifications I’ll get a better job and earn more money, so that you can all go to university. And when you’ve all finished in university and got good jobs, you can earn the money while I go to university and get a better job. Then we’ll pool all our money and buy a bigger house and keep ourselves safe forever.”

  They savoured the idea, and it didn’t seem impossible. In fact, it gave such hope that shivers ran down their spines.

  “And we’ll be going to a normal school and learning how to mix with people while we’re staying with Miss Clements,” said Lucy, “so that’ll help with getting jobs. The school here is bound to be better than the Magnifico’s school – no cruel punishments.” She caught her breath as she pictured the guidance cane that used to hang on the headmaster’s chair in the assembly hall.

  There was a glum silence as the memories hit them. David flushed with shame as he remembered the time his fooling around had made Lucy giggle so much that she’d had the cane in front of the whole school assembly.

  Lucy bore him no grudge about that. She was thinking of the trials. They all knew that Thomas, the gardener, was in one of them and Father Copse in another (unless he was too mad), but there was always the possibility that Father Drax would be caught and then there’d be a third one. The thought of one trial was bad enough, but it was horrible not knowing how many others there would be.

  “I’m dreading the trials,” she muttered.

  “Mmm. And me,” said Dorothy. “But, according to Mr Lovett, we’ll be doing a public service when we give evidence. He said the sooner that lot are put away forever, the better.”

  Lucy blurted out a sickening thought that she had been trying to bury for weeks. “I just hope that Paul and I haven’t got Father Copse’s genes,” she said.

  Dorothy and David digested the possibility.

  “Well, I suppose you must have some,” said Dorothy at last, “the same as David and me with Father Drax’s genes. After all, they are our fathers, even if we have disowned them. But that doesn’t mean to say that we’ve got their bad genes. You only get fifty per cent from each parent. And anyway we might all take after our mothers. I can remember my mother and I feel warm when I think of her, so I know she was good.”

  David was thoughtful. “Do you know what?” he said, “It’s never bothered me that I didn’t have a mother. All I know is that she was some sort of saint who’d seen the light and presented me as a gift to the Magnifico when I was born. Goodness knows what her genes were like.”

  “Well, you’re a good person, so we’ll assume you inherited her good genes,” said Dorothy briskly. “As for Paul and Lucy, you both look like Maria with that springy hair and creamy skin, so you obviously take after her.”

  No one spoke for a while, as all four of them thought sadly of what might have been had Maria recovered. They would have had a shared mother.

  Dorothy tried not to think of her own mother. It was too painful, but she couldn’t help it. Most of the memories were just a blur and a feeling of warmth, but the day she was taken from her was as clear as if it were yesterday.

  *

  The two of them had been sitting on the floor in a corner of the breeding rooms. It was almost too dark to see the right colours to put in her drawing book.

  “Mamma, can we sit near the window?” she’d asked, scrabbling at the crayons scattered all around her.

  “Not today,” whispered her mother. “No one will notice us here. I want to show you a secret and you must keep it forever.”

  Dorothy had been excited.

  “Pass me your drawing book,” said her mother in her normal voice. “Let me see your pictures.” She leafed through the book while Dorothy gathered up her crayons. “That’s lovely, my darling,” she said as she handed it back, still open.

  There was something lying flat on the page. It was a snapshot of two beautiful women.

  “That’s me on the left,” whispered her mother, “and that’s my mamma, your nonna, on the right. I’ve written her name and address on the back for when you can read. Keep it safe.”

  Even now, after all these years, Dorothy could se
nse the bustling in the room as the door opened and Father Drax came in with two of the Magnifico’s men. Other mothers held their toddlers close. Her own mother leaned over and shut the book hastily.

  “Keep the picture in the book, and hide it,” she’d whispered.

  When the men carried Dorothy away, they took the drawing book from her. Although she searched and searched, she never saw the photograph or her mother again.

  *

  Now, Dorothy stood staring out to sea with her face turned away from the others, and was grateful for the pause while they gathered their own thoughts.

  David broke the silence. “Look, it’s clouding over and the sea has gone dark green,” he said suddenly, “and we haven’t done our pocket-money shopping yet.”

  They sheltered from the wind on some steps inside a ruined tower, and shared out their money. Some of it was in coins, and they examined the different pieces.

  “I used to go shopping with Aunt Sarah sometimes,” said Lucy, “so I know what they are. We can buy quite a lot of things with all this, so let’s share out just a bit for each of us now, and then keep the rest to put towards our house for when Dorothy gets her job. It can be our housing fund.”

  They each put their allotted share in a pocket, and the remainder was returned to one of the envelopes and handed over to David.

  “You’ve got the biggest pockets, so you’d better be in charge,” said Dorothy.

  “Our housing fund!” breathed Lucy.

  They gazed at the envelope with reverence. Then they pulled themselves back to their immediate purpose – spending pocket money for the first time in their lives.

  “Right!” said Dorothy. “Let’s separate. Lucy, you take Paul with you, and David and I will each go on our own, and we’ll all meet under that clock at half past twelve.”

  *

  By the time they got back to the house, the blue sky had vanished completely, the wind had whipped up into a gale, and the sea was black. They arrived just as the rain started to come down in sheets. As they hung up their jackets, a delicious smell floated through the hall from the kitchen.

  “Quick. Wash your hands, my dears, and come and lay the table. Gladys, the cleaner, isn’t in today, so you’ll have to do it. Your lunch is ready, and later you might like to show me what you bought – unless it’s private of course.”

  “We’ve never had food like this before, Miss Clements,” said Dorothy, gazing down at a plateful of succulent pork with crackling, apple sauce, roast potatoes and vegetables. “We had to learn cooking at our old school, but this is different.”

  “I’ll teach you to cook, dear, once you’ve settled in. I’ve got some lovely recipes from when I was at cookery school in the South of France. It’s a wonderful thing to enjoy cooking. It takes you quite out of yourself, and all your troubles disappear.”

  After lunch Miss Clements showed the children how to clean out and lay the fire in their sitting room, so that they could do it themselves on the days when Gladys wasn’t in.

  “I just don’t have the time, you see,” she said. “Gladys does the cleaning, but you’ll have to do your own rooms, because she only comes in three days a week and she can’t do everything. And this week she’s up in London. She’s going on a march to stop that Tony Blair going to war in Iraq. She says if there’s a war now it’ll be chaos in ten years’ time, if not before. But I’m sure she’s wrong. He seems such a nice man. Always smiling. And make sure the fireguard is fixed properly, because we don’t want Paul or Donald to fall in, do we dears?”

  When the fire had been lit and Miss Clements had left the room, they spread out their purchases on the coffee table. They had jointly bought a small pot plant for Miss Clements and a bar of scented soap for Miss Marilyn.

  There had been some discussion about this when they were still in the castle grounds. “We can’t give Miss Clements something and not Miss Marilyn, even if she is so cross-looking,” Dorothy had said.

  David had suggested that Miss Marilyn wasn’t as cross as she looked. “I think that her mind is on something else far away,” he said, “and she’s only cross because we’re distracting her from her thoughts.”

  “OK, Mr Perceptive,” Dorothy had laughed. “Only joking. We wouldn’t really be so mean as not to get her something.”

  Lucy felt uncomfortable about the whole thing, though she didn’t say so. The Magnifico forbade the giving of presents. According to Aunt Sarah, it led to bribery and corruption, and was one of the many reasons why non-followers were rotten to the core. There were so many things that Lucy still found hard to accept, but she smiled now as she watched the other three, so excited about their gifts. What a mean old misery the Mag was, banning the pleasure of giving – not that he existed, of course.

  They put their gifts to one side and examined what they had bought for themselves. Dorothy had bought a lipstick and mascara. Now she stood in front of the mirror over the mantelpiece and put the lipstick on. The others studied the effect.

  “Make it more subtle,” said Lucy.

  David agreed. “Your lips are really red without lipstick, so you don’t need it. I prefer you without it.”

  “Well, I like it,” said Dorothy, rubbing it off and making her lips all the redder in the process. “Right, so what did you get, David?”

  He had bought a mobile phone. “It was the cheapest one they had. Nine pounds ninety-nine. It’s called ‘pay as you go’, but there was a special offer and they put ten pounds on my credit, so really I got it for nothing. The man in the shop showed me how to use it.”

  The others were impressed.

  “Who are you going to ring?” asked Paul.

  “Well, nobody yet, but we might make some friends at the school and we can ring them.”

  “Wow! It’s 2003 and we’ve actually moved into the modern age!” said Dorothy. “Beverley was wrong when she said this was the back of beyond.”

  Lucy had bought a watch from a charity shop. “It seems to work,” she said cautiously. “It says more or less the same time as the clock in the dining room.”

  “A watch!” exclaimed David. “How on earth have we managed without a watch all our lives? I’m going to buy one with our next pocket money – if we get any more, that is. Though, of course, we mustn’t forget the housing fund. What did you get, Paul?”

  Paul was already on the floor with a drawing book and crayons. Beside him lay a box with a bright picture of a farmyard on the lid.

  “You can help me with the jigsaw puzzle if you like,” he said, without looking up.

  “I will later,” said David “I’ve got to do something first.”

  “Where are you going?” asked Dorothy, as he was leaving the room.

  “Upstairs. I won’t be long.”

  When David reappeared, the others were sprawled in the chintz-covered armchairs, watching a television documentary on African elephants.

  Dorothy glanced up as he entered. “Holy Magnifico! What have you done?”

  “Please don’t use that horrible expression. It still makes my stomach turn over even after all this time,” said David crossly, shaking out his wet hair and rubbing it with a towel.

  The others stared in horror.

  “Holy Mag, sorry, Holy Bag!” cried Lucy. “Your beautiful, blond hair – it’s pitch black!”

  “Of course it’s black. I know it’s black. I dyed it black on purpose. I bought it in Boots,”

  Miss Clements entered the room with cake and tea carefully arranged on a trolley. “Good gracious me! I’d never have recognised you. What happened?”

  “I’ve dyed my hair.”

  “Oh, well, there we are then. That explains it,” said Miss Clements. “Sometimes it’s nice to have a change. Now, who wants a piece of Victoria sponge?”

  As soon as she had left, Dorothy turned to David. “What on earth do you think you�
��re doing? It’s horrible.”

  “It’s the genes,” he mumbled. “I know I can’t help looking like Father Drax, but least I can change my hair.”

  The two girls understood, and were silent.

  “Father Drax’s hair was different from yours,” piped up Paul.

  “You hardly ever met him,” said Lucy.

  “I know, but I saw him when we went to prayer meetings with Aunt Sarah, and once I had to sit next to him because there was nowhere else. He made my hum come. I looked hard at him and I saw his yellow hair.”

  Lucy remembered that occasion. Aunt Sarah had taken Paul out of the meeting because of the humming, and there had been no supper that night for either of them as a punishment.

  Paul selected a green crayon and started to draw a tree. “And I looked at his hands,” he said, “and there was a ginger freckle on his thumb, and his fingers were really long and thin. And there were little yellow hairs on the back of his hands, all silky.” He sat upright to admire his work. “David’s hair isn’t yellow. It’s silver.”

  The others absorbed this obvious piece of information. David’s expression lifted a little, and Dorothy ruffled Paul’s hair.

  “Of course!” she said. “How could we be so stupid? You notice everything. Sometimes, I think you’re the cleverest of us all.”

  She turned to David and smiled affectionately. “Well, you’re stuck with the black for now, so we’d better get used to it. Your roots will show when it grows out, so we’ll have to keep touching it up while we’re at this school, or people will think you’re odd.”

  “They might not,” said Lucy. “I saw a boy with green hair in town today. Can you imagine such a thing in the Mag’s school? He’d have been disposed of. Remember poor John? The Good Doctors took him, and all he’d done was twitch!”