A Little Bird Told Me

by Marianne Holmes

  ‘Anybody else?’ says Ray, but no one steps forward. Black Boots shuffles uneasily.

  But then Ray turns his back on them and slaps Neil hard across the face. Neil’s mouth opens wide, and his hand flies to his cheek.

  ‘Don’t ever grass on your mates, you little shit.’

  Mickey is sitting down with his knees drawn up to his mouth and his hands holding his head. Black Boots is waving his arms around while the other two try and lift Mickey to his feet.

  ‘Right, let’s go before they find where their courage is hiding.’ I fetch my bag and run back to Ray and Kit who have started walking towards the gate. Neil follows behind us, his face red and streaked with tears.

  As we step on to the path, I look back to see Mickey stabbing his cigarette in our direction. He is holding it so the hot tip pokes out between the fingers of his fist. I laugh and do a little dance, and he shouts something that I can’t hear. Ray grabs the back of my T-shirt and pulls me through the gate.

  ‘Don’t you know anything about looking after yourselves? You’d better come with me now before you get into some real trouble.’

  He walks to a pale green Cortina and yanks open the back door.

  ‘Get in,’ he says.

  ‘No,’ says Kit trying to pull me away, but there is a shout from the gate where Mickey is bursting through chin first. I slide into the back seat and Neil pushes Kit in and gets in beside him.

  ‘Hold on, then,’ says Ray starting the car so quickly that Neil asks if he left the key in it.

  ‘Never use keys, kid, always losing them.’ And we are away so fast that the front door slams shut on its own.

  As the car takes the corner, we are all thrown against the door which creaks under our weight. Ray lifts his eyes to the rear-view mirror and looks at Kit who is trying to wipe the blood seeping from his nose with the back of his hand.

  ‘Well, well, you always were a bit of a mummy’s boy, but perhaps there’s hope for you yet.’ I laugh a bit until I see Kit’s face, which is blank.

  ‘You’re going the wrong way,’ says Neil. ‘We don’t live down here. We need to turn around.’ Ray ignores him and turns the radio on. We pass The Bunch of Grapes, and Neil starts shouting to Ray to stop the car.

  ‘Look,’ he says to Kit, ‘Mace is right there. He’s not at The Lamb, it was a trick!’ Ray laughs and then steers the car towards the curb and pulls the handbrake on to stop it.

  ‘Best you get out here if you’re gonna complain, you’re not invited anyway.’ Neil looks surprised but opens the door and gets out, and Kit grabs my hand and tries to slide out after him.

  ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ says Ray and holds on to me tight. Neil pokes his head back through the door and looks at both of us. I wonder what he meant about a trick, but I can’t find my voice.

  ‘Come on!’ Neil says, but Kit sees that I am held fast and doesn’t follow him.

  ‘They’re coming with me, son.’ The skin on my legs is sticking to the seat so that it hurts when I try to move, and I cry out. Kit pulls the penknife out of his jeans, and, before I can see what he’s going to do with it, it’s in Ray’s other hand.

  ‘Didn’t she tell you those things are dangerous?’ Ray folds it and puts it into his shirt pocket. ‘Right, so now I’ve got the knife, we’re all going to do what I say. Close the door, Christopher.’

  ‘I’m gonna get my dad!’ Neil shouts at Ray.

  ‘Sure, kid, good luck with that.’ Ray laughs. ‘But if I were you, I’d move quickly. The natives don’t seem too friendly.’ Neil turns around to look, and Ray pumps the accelerator, and the tyres screech on the road. I watch Neil through the back window. He is staring after us as we pull further away. Behind him, Mace and a couple of other men step out into the road and I see Neil running down a street away from them. Why isn’t he going to find Sergeant C?

  ‘Now, there’s a man who don’t like Jemima very much. No sir. Very interesting exchanging a few stories with him.’ Ray starts whistling through his teeth like in those westerns Kit and Matthew like to watch. I look at Kit who looks angry and scared at the same time, and I am a little sorry about that, so I scoot, over and take his hand.

  Kit leans his head down to me and whispers, ‘Robyn, we have to get away.’

  ‘But it’s okay, Kit, he’s our dad,’ I say and move back to the window. I don’t like that Ray’s not letting us tell Mum that we’re going, but it doesn’t make sense to me to be afraid of our Dad. He keeps looking out for me.

  The engine quiets as Ray waits for a gap in the traffic to pull out on to the main road and out of town. Two kids are sitting on a bench in the bus stop on the other side of the road. They are sharing a bottle of something fizzy as they sit, legs swinging in and out of the shade, loose sandals sticking and unsticking to the soles of their feet. I bet they wish they were us, I think.

  As we ease out, I can see the land climbing away, scrappy hedges thirsty from the drought cutting through the dandelions and daisies and the yellowing grass. I lean out of the window trailing my hand in the thick air, warm from the metal car and the engine. When Ray doesn’t tell me to stop, I shift around so that my back is in the corner made by the door and the seat. I rest my head against the frame of the open window and let my right arm hang all the way out, spreading my fingers to catch the muggy breeze. Kit is slumped down in his seat.

  ‘How long will it take to get there?’ I ask, and Ray laughs.

  ‘A while,’ he says and turns up the radio as fat juicy drops of rain start to beat a tattoo on the roof.

  The Cortina shakes me awake as it turns off the road and stops. I lean forward between the front seats and look through the metal bars of the gate ahead where the land drops away down to a cluster of sheds. In front of them is a squat bungalow with a leaning plastic porch.

  ‘Open it then, lad, and make sure you shut it firmly behind us.’ Kit struggles to pull the hoop of rope back over the post, the wet cord slippery in his hands, before getting back into the seat beside me. Along the track, the sparse hedge has snagged dusty balls of wool although the sheep themselves are all in one of the brown fields on the right. Through the fields stand large buckets and metal water troughs. I can’t see any horses, but the land continues to slope away behind the house so that the tops of the oaks behind seem to have sunk into the ground. On the other side of the valley, the field patterns are clearer, and I can see a couple of buildings beside a road that snakes along the folds of the hills.

  There is a dark shadow where Ray’s eyes should be under the brim of his hat in the rear-view mirror.

  He is watching me and says, ‘Expecting a palace were you, kiddo?’ The tyres suck at the mud in front of the house as the car stops beside a jeep set up on bricks. The paint is peeling around the wheel arches and the door sills.

  I pull the strap of my bag over my shoulder before getting out. Kit isn’t following, so I turn back to prod him. His face is white, and he is clutching the edge of the seat.

  ‘Come on, Christopher,’ I say because he is beginning to embarrass me.

  He reaches for me. ‘We’ve got to get out of here, Little Bird. Get in and scoot across. I’ll open the door on this side and we can run up behind those sheds before he can get round.’

  ‘I don’t want to,’ I say. ‘Besides, I’m too slow.’ His hand closes round my wrist, but I twist it out. There are marks on my skin turning from white to red as I watch, but before I can shout at him, Ray is behind me, hand on my shoulder, and face beside mine as he looks in at Kit.

  ‘You need to take us back. Neil will bring the police.’

  ‘Looked like he was just running away to me. Now, let’s concentrate on no one getting hurt here, lad.’ Kit’s face is white and still. I step sideways out from under Ray’s hand and a huge cross-breed starts barking and is running straight at me. I nearly slip over in the mud as I move back to Ray. The dog is brought up suddenly, and now I can see that there is a chain around its neck that is fastened to an iron hoop on the wall of the
porch. The noise has brought out a woman who is standing in the doorway watching. I smile and lift my hand, but she only looks at Ray, who is now holding the dog.

  ‘Get inside,’ he says to us. Kit is beside me again, and he holds my hand tightly as we walk into the house.

  ‘What’s going on, Ray?’ asks the woman once we are all inside.

  ‘Nothing to fret about. Go on and make me and my kids a nice lunch. Get cooking, woman.’ There’s a table with a vinyl cloth decorated with geometric patterns and Ray pulls a chair out from under it and sits down. As she turns away to open the fridge door, I can see that she’s got a baby in her tummy.

  ‘Where were you last night?’ she says, ‘A policeman came here with a woman. Said they had to search the farm.’

  ‘Well, did they?’ says Ray.

  ‘Yes,’ she says, ‘they didn’t find nothin’ though coz I got in their way.’ She looks at us. ‘What have you done?’

  Ray laughs and takes the bottle of beer that she passes to him.

  ‘Got myself one step ahead is what I’ve done,’ he says and takes a long drink, ‘set up my own little “trap”, you could say. Still, I think we’d better get going as soon as we’ve had that.’ He nods at the bacon and eggs she has pulled from the fridge. He stands and drapes an arm loosely around her shoulders as she puts some bread into a toaster and clicks down the lever.

  ‘My dear daddy would spin in his grave if he thought those sheep might wander into the road and get hurt.’ He grins. ‘Shame, he’s not here to see me set them free before I start loading the car.’ He turns around leaning back on to the work surface. ‘Don’t suppose she ever bothered to bring you to see your Grampy? Well, don’t worry, the farm’s mine now. We’ll all be moving back here one day because this is our land and I don’t plan on sharing. We just need to clear off for a bit until they stop looking for you.’ He slaps the woman on her bottom and walks out.

  She lights the hob and places a pan on it, laying out the bacon strip by strip before walking around the room pulling out a few items and placing them in a pile by the door. She doesn’t say anything to us, so I set my bag down on the table.

  ‘Who are you?’ I ask her.

  ‘His,’ she pauses, glancing up as Ray reappears at the door, ‘… wife.’ He laughs.

  ‘But you can’t be,’ I say, ‘what about our mum?’ The woman puts one hand on her hip as she flips the bacon over.

  ‘Well, she left, didn’t she?’ She sticks her chin out as if she’s expecting us to argue with her.

  ‘She did not,’ says Kit.

  ‘Best you two talk less and start helping sweet Sue here,’ says Ray, who has walked up behind me. I jump. Sue opens a drawer of cutlery, and I pull out knives and forks as she cracks the eggs into another pan. The cutlery is old and pitted, but I put it down carefully and look for glasses to fill at the sink. When the toast pops up, Sue whacks the plate of it down on the table and throws a tub of margarine at me. I sit down and wipe a yellow streak of the stuff over each piece of toast.

  Ray leaves the room and returns with a holdall that he slings down by the door. Sue passes him a mug of coffee and then places the pans on wooden boards on the table so that we can help ourselves. She lowers herself gingerly on to a chair by the hob and waits for Ray to fill his plate first. I wonder why she has to sit down so carefully when her stomach doesn’t look that big yet.

  Kit hasn’t moved from the doorway. He is still pale, but bright red spots of colour have blossomed on his cheeks as he looks at a photo pinned to the wall.

  ‘Where are the ponies?’ I ask. ‘You said there were ponies and chickens and all sorts of animals.’

  He ignores my question. ‘Eat,’ says Ray, ‘we might not stop again for a while.’

  I sit down beside him and reach for some bacon and eggs.

  ‘You too,’ says Ray to Kit. ‘You’re no good to me if you’re faint with hunger.’ We don’t speak while we eat and the drumming of the rain on the shallow roof drowns out the sound of our cutlery scraping on the plates.

  The dog outside gives a quick bark and Ray gets up to have a look. He puts his head back through the door, the rain dripping off the brim of his hat.

  ‘Get cleared up and ready,’ he says looking at Sue, and she jumps up.

  Kit nudges me and points at the photo by the door, his hand a little shaky. I have to stand on tiptoe to look at it properly.

  ‘Is that you?’ I say. The photo is faded, but the image is still clear. A very young Kit sits on Ray’s lap at the kitchen table and leans towards the woman beside them. She is holding a baby and there is a twisted band of silver on her ring finger, just visible amongst the folds of the baby’s shawl. Behind them stands an older man and Mum. Around Kit’s neck is a chain with a St Christopher. There is an open box on the table in front of the woman with the silver ring. In it is another St Christopher.

  ‘That was when she brought you back from the hospital,’ says Ray from the door making me spin round. ‘You should never travel without one or luck will leave you. Are you wearing ’em now?’ he says and walks over pulling up my hair to feel at my neck.

  Kit stands up to stop him. ‘Mum took them,’ he says. ‘Let her be.’ He pauses and puffs out his chest a bit. ‘I want you to take us home now.’

  ‘But it’s not your real bloody home, is it?’ Ray brings his hand down hard on the table. ‘Besides, she wanted to come.’ He smiles at me. Sue has moved as far away from us as she can get, and the dog is barking and leaping around outside. Kit grabs my hand.

  ‘Well, woman, are you packed?’ Sue drops a mug that rolls on the lino spraying out coffee, and Ray moves towards her.

  ‘Do you remember this?’ I say quietly to Kit. He nods. My legs start shaking, and I think that perhaps Kit is remembering other things that happened here because his eyes are darting between Ray and Sue.

  ‘We have to get out, Robyn. I don’t think he’s planning to take us back at all.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  1988

  ‘So, you think what happened to Jemima is your fault?’

  Neil appears at my side, and I’m glad he’s here. I’m still unsteady after my encounter with Mace.

  Kit must have told him what I did. I pull my jacket a little tighter and brace myself for the wave of angry words I deserve.

  ‘And here I thought it was my fault …’ His tone is light enough that I know he’s not serious. I almost smile.

  ‘Wanna tell me about it?’ Neil’s hands are pushed deep into his pockets.

  ‘No, not really.’ We walk on in silence until Neil can’t help himself.

  ‘For what it’s worth, I don’t think it is, you know.’ I give him a little shove. I really don’t want to talk about it. He puts his hands up. ‘Okay, Okay.’

  A group of young men laughing and horsing around cross the road towards us, and I flinch. Neil puts an arm around my shoulders and steers me out of their way.

  ‘When Mum and Dad left, I thought about moving on too. Somewhere bigger maybe.’ He sends his arm out in a great arc. ‘But who would want to leave this, the great metropolis!’

  It’s a clear night and the outlines of the High Street buildings are printed like cut card against the inky sky.

  ‘For example,’ he leans to whisper in my ear, ‘the guy that just went past in the leather jacket? He spends every Sunday with his grandmother making her a week’s worth of meals.’

  ‘Sure, he does.’ My voice rings out in the still evening as we walk on.

  ‘Ah, well, in here,’ Neil cups his hand by his mouth as if someone else might be listening, ‘in this very ordinary bank is a secret hero. A woman who spends all year collecting unwanted toys so that they can be wrapped up and handed out in the local Children’s Ward at Christmas.’

  ‘No, she doesn’t!’

  ‘Well, if you leave, you’ll never know.’

  I don’t want to leave. Oh. I look at Neil in surprise. Kit and I need to get away though, I’m sure of it. Pretty sure,
anyway.

  ‘And if you don’t think that’s amazing enough,’ he pulls me closer and points at the café, ‘in there’s a woman who lost her best friend and has spent every day since trying to make amends by noticing the little things that people need.’

  He’s talking about Eva.

  ‘Pretty fantastic, right?’

  We walk the rest of the way in silence until we reach the house. Neil stops under the dripping branches of the cherry.

  ‘I assume you have a plan?’ I nod. ‘Then let’s get on with it. Kit will be here soon.’

  ‘Are you alright?’ Kit stops in the kitchen doorway. Eva must have told him about my face, but his jaw stiffens when he sees me. I’m so glad to see him that I don’t know whether to hug him or let him find his own way in.

  ‘I’m fine.’ I stay where I am.

  ‘Eva says Carol saw Mace threatening you.’

  ‘Yeah, we need to bring you up to speed on a few things, mate,’ Neil signs to me to let him talk. Kit’s face is hard to read. ‘Robyn’s sure Mace was the burglar. He was upset about having his place searched.’

  ‘But nothing was taken.’ Kits sounds confused.

  ‘There was one thing. I didn’t realise until later.’ I shake out the tension in my fingers. ‘That’s why I didn’t say at the time.’

  ‘And you found it at Mace’s?’ Kit turns to Neil.

  ‘We didn’t find anything, so we had to let him go. Why don’t you sit down?’

  ‘I know you’re angry with me right now, Kit, but I need to tell you about this.’ Neil nods to me to carry on. He’s watching Kit carefully, trying to anticipate his response. ‘It was in Mum’s bag, the one Ray brought when he climbed into my room. I’d taken it out before you all came in —’

  ‘And you never thought to tell us about it?’

  ‘I was so angry with you all for lying to me, I wanted my own secret.’

  ‘I knew you were angry, Robyn,’ Kit drops his head into his hands, ‘I knew you were.’