The Big House

by Larche Davies

  Occasionally, she glanced over to check on the others, who were stepping gingerly over the rocks. It was not until they started to turn back that she thought of the time.

  “What does it say on your watch?” she said.

  “Nearly one o’clock.”

  “Flaming flesh!” she exclaimed.

  Jason looked surprised.

  “Sorry! It’s just an expression. I have to be back by one. My foster mother is really strict about meal times.”

  *

  Lucy held Paul’s hand as he jumped down from the last rock, back onto the beach. He caught his balance and looked up. “I want to go on that train,” he said, pointing at a little railway that ran up the side of the cliff.

  They stood and watched as a carriage chugged steeply upwards and passed another one coming down.

  “Wow! That’s really neat!” exclaimed David, as the carriage reached its shelter at the top of the cliff, and people started climbing out. “One up and one down, both at the same time.”

  “We’d probably have to pay, so we can’t go on it today,” Lucy told Paul. “We’ll have a treat after we’ve bought our house and feel safe. For the time being, we’ll have to walk up there if we want to explore. Come on or we’ll be late for lunch.”

  The beach was deep shingle, and it was difficult to move forward. To make their journey back more uncomfortable, Paul had fallen in a rock pool and was soaking wet. David held back and studied the cliff. There was no road up that way, so it could be an important escape route out of this town if the Mag’s men ever caught up with them. He made mental notes. There was a path to the left of the railway. It twisted and disappeared round rock and gorse, then reappeared and disappeared again. They would have to try it out. Perhaps they’d go this afternoon.

  He glanced towards the promenade. Dorothy and Jason were still on the bench, laughing uproariously at something. It was worrying. She was always warning them not to get too close to anyone, so why couldn’t she see how risky this was? It was bad enough with her and that awful Izzy from up the road. And now there was Jason.

  Lucy looked up. “What do you think of Jason?” she asked. “He’s not as handsome as all that, is he?”

  “He seems alright at school,” said David, rather doubtfully, “but it’s not his looks that matter. Supposing he’s an infiltrator? After all, we had infiltrators in the Mag’s school – like Matthew – so there could be some here too.”

  “I wonder if we’ll ever stop being suspicious of people?” said Lucy.

  Dorothy was already on her feet when they reached the promenade, and they ran ahead of her. When they were halfway up the hill they looked back. She was walking very slowly behind them, still chatting vigorously with Jason.

  “She shouldn’t let him walk back with her,” grumbled David. “He’ll see where we live. And just look at them! They don’t stop talking. She’s bound to give something away.”

  “Well, they’d hardly have met up just to stay mute. I’m sure she’s on her guard without showing it.”

  Secretly, Lucy was anxious about it too. Also, she was afraid Miss Clements would be angry when she saw that Paul was totally soaked. She speculated as to the sort of punishments that might be used at the big house if people fell in the water. Paul was grizzling that his bottom and his feet were cold, and that David had told him it was cruel to drop a stone on a shrimp.

  “Stop whining,” said Lucy sharply, “and get a move on.”

  “Your voice sounds just like Aunt Sarah’s,” he said.

  *

  Miss Clements noted Paul’s wet clothes, but wasn’t perturbed. As she told herself, there was no reason why she should be. It wasn’t going to put her to any trouble. Lucy took Paul upstairs, rubbed him down, and helped him into dry clothes. When he was warm and comfortable, he put his arms round her and buried his face in her neck.

  “You’ll never leave me, will you?” His voice was muffled. “Not for some old boyfriend who’s nothing to do with us.”

  “Of course not! If I ever have a boyfriend, which is unlikely, he’ll be everything to do with us, and you’ll come with me.”

  “You can marry David, and we’ll be together.”

  Lucy thought for a moment. “No. I don’t think I could do that. We all took that vow to be blood brothers and sisters. It might not seem right.”

  Downstairs in the kitchen she followed Miss Clements’s instructions and bundled the salty, wet clothes into the washing machine. How easy life was with machinery! No wonder poor Aunt Sarah had always been so cross if they came in wet. She’d had to wash everything by hand, and then there was nowhere to dry it unless the sun was shining and a good wind blowing.

  *

  David was on his own in the children’s sitting room when Paul and Lucy came in. The fire was blazing, and he was sprawled across an armchair, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. He wished he hadn’t reminded himself of the infiltrators at the Mag’s school. Matthew’s treachery was a horrible thing to remember.

  He was disgusted with himself as he recalled his own reaction when he saw Matthew’s body, crushed by the wheels of Thomas’s car. “Serves him right!” He’d actually said that! It wasn’t poor old Matthew’s fault. He’d simply been doing what he’d been brought up to do. But Dorothy had to be careful. You shouldn’t even trust your best mates.

  Dorothy turned up just in time for lunch. She was looking pink and happy. Her short black curls had blown wild about her head, and her brown eyes were full of laughter. David was silent, and Lucy asked her politely if she’d had a nice chat.

  “Yes. He’s lovely.” Dorothy flung herself down on the sofa. “Hey, you lot! What’s the matter with you? I’ve got a nice, new friend, and you go all frosty. He’s cheerful and makes me laugh, and it’s fun.”

  “It’s so risky,” muttered David.

  “Lucy says she’ll never leave me,” said Paul.

  “Well, I’ll never leave you either, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have friends.”

  “Just think of Matthew at the Mag’s school,” said David crossly. “He was always cheerful and made everyone laugh. He was my best mate, and all that time he was an infiltrator and ended up betraying us.”

  No one replied. Dorothy, her pleasure dampened, went upstairs to take off her mascara and comb her hair. Surely David knew she’d never betray them. After all, she wasn’t as naïve as she’d been last year when she’d run away from the commune and Tom had found her wandering aimlessly round the streets. Now she squirmed with embarrassment as she remembered how she had trusted him. She’d certainly learned her lesson about overly-charming men. It wasn’t the fact that he’d disappeared with her money and her mobile phone. What was sickening was that he and his friend had nearly tricked her into a job in that sleazy dump which, just in time, she’d guessed was not really a hotel.

  She’d learned a lot from that experience. David should realise by now that she’d never be taken in by a charming man again. Still, Tom had taught her some useful things. He’d shown her the best places to find food in the alleyways behind the West End restaurants, and the safest railway arches to sleep under. It wasn’t all bad.

  She straightened herself up and shook off her annoyance. After all, David was right. There was no such thing as being too cautious after what they’d been through. She was sorry now that she’d made him worry.

  David was staring glumly at the television when she went back downstairs. She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. He grunted, and she laughed. Then she popped her head round the kitchen door and asked if she could help with the lunch.

  “Come on in, dear,” said Miss Clements, “and I’ll show you how to make good gravy.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sunday dawned bright and fine. At breakfast Miss Clements asked if anyone would like to come to church with her and Miss Marilyn.

  “No, thank
you, Miss Clements. I’m meeting Jason,” said Dorothy, putting home-made, black cherry jam on her croissant, and trying to appear nonchalant.

  Miss Clements looked a bit uncertain. “Remember that Beverley said you were to keep together if you went out.”

  “I’ll go with Dorothy,” said Lucy. “We’ll all go with her.”

  Paul objected. “I want to see what a church looks like.”

  In the end it was agreed that Paul would go with Miss Clements and Miss Marilyn, and the other two would go with Dorothy.

  “I don’t want you hanging around too close,” she whispered, as they left the dining room.

  David was annoyed. “We don’t want to listen in on your silly conversations,” he snapped. “We just want to make sure you’re safe – because if you’re not safe, none of us are.”

  They tidied their bedrooms and Lucy brushed Paul’s hair. It wouldn’t lie down, so she fluffed it with her hands and stood back to admire him. “You look very nice,” she said, giving him a kiss. “Just what people in a church are supposed to look like, I think.”

  At quarter to ten, she took him down to the hall, where Miss Clements and her sister were waiting in grey hats and grey coats, with grey handbags dangling from their arms. Their clothes didn’t tell you anything about them, thought Lucy, as she handed over an excited Paul.

  She found the others in the sitting room, silent and grumpy, staring at the remains of last night’s fire. Lucy fetched a brush and pan, and knelt down to clear the ashes from the grate. Dorothy wasn’t due to meet Jason until eleven thirty, so they had time to fill. She stood up, saying she was going upstairs to finish off some homework.

  “Huh!” muttered David under his breath. “To plaster yourself with make-up, more likely.”

  “I heard that!” snapped Dorothy as she left the room.

  Upstairs, she washed her face and put the lipstick and mascara away in a drawer, and sat sadly on the bed. The thought of having a boyfriend was such fun, but she knew David was right. If she got too close to anyone, even if he wasn’t an infiltrator like Matthew, there would always be a risk of giving information away accidentally. She’d been really careful with Jason, but she’d still slipped up with that ‘Flaming flesh!’

  She sighed. It was just that all her life she’d been told she’d have to marry one of the Fathers when she reached sixteen, and the prospect of being free to choose a boyfriend, or whether to marry at all, was so exhilarating! But she wasn’t stupid. She could see the dangers. For the time being, she would have to go around with a crowd, not just Jason. It would be safer and wouldn’t be for forever.

  She’d meet him at half past eleven as arranged, but would tell him she couldn’t go out with him anymore because she was so behind with her school work. And that was true. She’d tell him she wanted to stay friends, and would see him whenever they went out with the gang. She slid off the bed and stood up straight and held her head high. Just wait till the trials were over, and then she’d really let her hair down!

  *

  David was lolling on the sofa next to Lucy. The television was on, but he saw none of it. All thoughts of Jason had vanished, and he was mentally going over the details of yesterday’s exploration of the cliff. They had followed the path that ran next to the railway until it forked into two possible escape routes. One was difficult, up a sheer stretch of rock. It would be much too awkward to abduct anyone from there, so they’d be safe going that way. The other route was easy, over the cliff railway via a little wooden bridge. They had stood on the bridge for quite a while, watching the trains chug up and down. It had been fun.

  By the time Dorothy came downstairs, any crossness between her and David had vanished. She squeezed in between him and Lucy on the sofa, and the three of them stared at a documentary about Greece and the International Monetary Fund until, to joint astonishment, they heard the front door opening and shutting with slightly more of a bang than usual. The three of them emerged from their sitting room, and Donald came from his bed in the kitchen. Miss Clements had lost her normally bland expression, and Miss Marilyn’s mouth was twitching furiously.

  “You said you’d be gone for an hour and a half!” exclaimed Dorothy. “What happened?”

  Miss Marilyn made a snorting noise and took off her coat.

  “We couldn’t stay,” said Miss Clements. She seemed agitated. “As soon as we got into the church Paul started humming and he wouldn’t stop, and it got louder and louder and we just had to leave. So embarrassing!”

  “I dread to think what our parents would have done to us if we’d behaved badly in church,” snorted Miss Marilyn angrily, “or anywhere else for that matter.”

  Miss Clements caught her breath and put her hand up to her heart.

  Paul ran over to Lucy and put his arms round her waist.

  “It was the dead man,” he said. “Hanging in the air.”

  Lucy’s stomach lurched.

  Miss Clements stared at Paul. What on earth was he talking about?

  Miss Marilyn’s jaw clamped so tightly she couldn’t have twitched her mouth if she’d tried, and she marched upstairs without a word.

  Aha! thought Miss Clements as realisation struck. Through a child’s eyes! We do all see things differently in this old world.

  Lucy gathered her wits. She gave Paul a hug. “It’s alright, darling. I’m sure there wasn’t a dead man. It was probably someone resting on a balcony, or a statue or something. You don’t have to go again.”

  She looked up at Miss Clements. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “He always hums if he’s anxious. It’s really bad that he embarrassed you, but he senses things and then it makes him hum. There must have been something that frightened him.”

  Miss Clements had recovered her composure and her benign expression. “Well, there we are then,” she said placidly. “It takes all sorts. It’s a shame though, because there was a new young man there – so handsome – and I was going to invite him here for tea. Robert, or Robin, or something. One should always try to welcome strangers to the congregation.”

  She took off her coat, and went straight to the kitchen to soothe her nerves with a nice cup of coffee with cream. Trust Marilyn to remind her of bad times. But she was not displeased with the way things had turned out. It gave her a little more time to try out a new recipe for a chocolate pudding. Perhaps she’d stay at home next Sunday.

  *

  “Mr Lovett rang today.” Miss Clements briefly looked up from her whisking bowl as the children came into the kitchen after school. “That Thomas’s trial is towards the end of this month, though they can’t give us the exact date yet. They won’t need Dorothy this time, just Lucy and David. You’d better pack a bag each, so you’re ready if Beverley comes for you at short notice.”

  The shock that ran through Lucy took her breath away. She looked at David. The colour had drained from his face. Dorothy was standing stock still, her school bag dangling from her hand. Of course they had known this day would come, but there had always been the secret hope that something might happen to stop it.

  “Mr Lovett told me you’ll give your evidence from behind a screen, so no one will see you,” said Miss Clements, as she poured pudding mixture into patty tins. “Beverley will see to your accommodation and everything, so you’re not to worry about a thing. You’re going to stay in a hotel. I expect Mr Lovett will give you your instructions.” She looked up and saw the stricken faces, and tried to think of something encouraging. “In a way, my dears, it’ll be a helpful experience for you, because you’re all going to have to give evidence in Father Copse’s trial later on. And then again, if they catch Father Drax. At least by then you’ll have some idea of what happens.”

  It was a helpful experience they would rather have done without.

  “Now put the kettle on,” she said, and make yourselves a cup of tea, and there’s cake in that tin. You may take it to
your sitting room or eat it here, whichever you prefer. Paul’s having tea at Mrs Jones’s house. Her husband seems to have taken quite a shine to him.”

  Lucy dumped her school bag in a corner of the kitchen and sat down at the table. How could she possibly eat cake!

  “Aunt Sarah died that night, just before Thomas and Father Drax’s men came to burn the house down,” she said sadly, “and I know it was for the best because she was spared the fright of it all, but I can’t help wishing she was still alive. She was really strict and always going on about saving our souls, but I know that inside her she loved Paul and me.”

  David and Dorothy said nothing. They filled the kettle, and set out some mugs and plates.

  “I used to envy the children in the commune, like Dorothy and David, because they had company,” said Lucy, “but now I realise how lucky Paul and I were to have Aunt Sarah, because she did really care about us as well as our souls.”

  Miss Clements was genuinely interested, but she didn’t want to hear the sad details, oh dear, no. It would be too upsetting. Lucy must have been a very lonely little girl, she thought. No wonder she was so quiet, and always with her nose in a book. Escapism, that’s what that was.

  “Well, well,” she said soothingly. “I’m sure Aunt Sarah was a very good woman, and it’s nice to think she’s at peace. Now dears, what would you like for supper tonight – escalope of veal or moussaka?”

  *

  The days passed somehow. Lucy’s throat tightened and it was difficult to eat. Sometimes she found it hard to breathe.

  Miss Clements discovered an old Ventolin inhaler left in a cupboard by one of her previous foster children. “You never know, it might work,” she said. “I’ll make an appointment for you to see the doctor when you come back from London.”

  It did work and Lucy could breathe, but she still had no appetite, and grew thinner and thinner, until she was almost the puny little girl she used to be. Each night she lay awake, and dark circles formed under her eyes. She remembered every detail of the night of the fire. Thomas had found her hiding behind the curtain, and his look of contempt had shrivelled her very soul. This was the Thomas who had given her sweeties and made her feel special. She had loved his kind face and gentle manner. Now of course, she knew it was a sham. He was an infiltrator and had just been using her to spy on Father Copse – and training her up to be an infiltrator herself. Never would she completely trust anyone again, apart from her family.