The Runaway Children

by Sandy Taylor

  I folded the letter and put it back in my pocket. I was glad that Lottie was going to see her mum and I knew that one day I would see her again. I’d go to Brighton and find the white house on the seafront and we’d stand at the edge of the ocean together.

  If Mrs Jones turned up now and said she had found us a place back in Glengaryth I would say, No thanks, we’re happy here and I wouldn’t be lying. The freedom we had suited us both and as long as we did our work and steered clear of Albert, we were okay. I knew that Olive missed Aggie but she didn’t seem to miss going to school.

  And me? I wanted to stay with Jimmy as long as I could.

  Chapter Eighteen

  What began as an ordinary kind of day ended up as a nightmare. The weather had suddenly changed and there was driving wind and rain blowing across the yard and teeming down the hillside. I had to borrow an old pair of Albert’s rubber boots, which were miles too big for me. Mrs Hacker threw a pair of thick socks across the kitchen.

  ‘They’ll stay on with these,’ she said.

  I hated wearing anything that had touched Albert, but there was no way I could help Jimmy with the cows wearing my school shoes.

  ‘I think Olive should stay here,’ I said, pulling on the horrible smelly socks.

  ‘A bit of rain’s not gonna kill her,’ said Mrs Hacker, glaring at me.

  ‘She hasn’t got the right clothes – she’ll catch her death.’

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, girl, this is a farm and the animals have to be seen to, whatever the weather’s like. Do you think the cows wait till the sun comes out before they’re milked?’

  ‘Me and Jimmy can do it together.’

  ‘I’m not having her under me feet and that’s that.’

  Olive came downstairs wearing a thin little dress. I took her hand and together we went back up the stairs. I stomped all the way up.

  ‘Why are you angry, Nell?’

  ‘It’s that bloody woman, she’s enough to make a saint angry.’

  ‘You swore, Nell.’

  ‘I couldn’t help it, so it doesn’t count.’

  I opened the drawer and put as many clothes on her as would fit under her coat.

  ‘I can hardly move, Nell.’

  ‘Better than catching a cold.’

  ‘I don’t mind, Nell.’

  ‘Well, I do.’

  ‘I feel fat,’ said Olive, struggling down the stairs. ‘I feel fat, like a fat person.’

  I grinned at her. ‘You look like a fat person, Olive.’

  Jimmy came into the kitchen. ‘Ready?’ he said.

  I nodded.

  ‘Hang on, Jimmy,’ said Mrs Hacker, opening a drawer in the dresser. She threw a pair of gloves across the room. ‘No point in havin cold hands,’ she said.

  Jimmy picked up the gloves and pulled them on. ‘Thanks,’ he said.

  We walked outside. The rain was driving across the yard, making it almost impossible to see anything.

  ‘Nice boots,’ said Jimmy, grinning.

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘Do I look fat, Jimmy?’ asked Olive, smiling up at him.

  ‘You look as if you’ve eaten too many pies.’

  ‘I’m a fat person today, that’s what I am.’

  ‘I can’t believe she gave you a pair of gloves to wear,’ I said.

  ‘She loves me really,’ said Jimmy, grinning.

  I wondered for a minute whether Mrs Hacker actually did like Jimmy. It made her more human somehow.

  The three of us started trudging across the field to where the cows were lying close together on the ground.

  ‘Haven’t they woken up yet?’ said Olive.

  ‘They always do that when it rains,’ said Jimmy. ‘In fact they know when the rain is coming so they prepare for it.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Olive.

  ‘So that they have a dry place to lie down in.’

  ‘Clever that, isn’t it?’ said Olive.

  ‘Cows are much cleverer than people give them credit for.’

  Between us we gently poked and prodded the big creatures, but today they were having none of it; even Martha was refusing to budge.

  ‘Come on, girls,’ said Jimmy. ‘Don’t you want to go into a nice dry barn?’

  The wind and rain were racing across the field and we were all dripping wet.

  ‘You and Olive go to the barn, Nell, they’ll move soon,’ said Jimmy. ‘There’s no point in all of us getting soaked.’

  The rain was lashing my face and running into the tops of the boots.

  I could see Olive mouthing something to me but the wind was so loud I couldn’t hear what she was saying. ‘What?’ I shouted.

  ‘I said I’m bloody freezing,’ she yelled.

  ‘Go to the barn, Olive, we’ll be there in a minute.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said.

  I watched her running across the field, then turned back to help Jimmy.

  We pushed, we prodded, we whispered words of encouragement, and when that didn’t work we started yelling at them, but they didn’t move a muscle – these cows were going nowhere.

  ‘Have they done this before?’ I asked, shivering and wiping the rain out of my eyes.

  ‘If Martha moved, the rest would follow,’ said Jimmy. ‘I’m wondering if there’s something wrong with her.’

  He knelt down beside her. ‘Not feeling so good today, girl?’ he murmured, smoothing her wet back. Martha looked at him with big, sad eyes. ‘You need to find Albert, Nell,’ he said.

  I could hear the urgency in his voice and it scared me.

  ‘Get him up here quick, I think there’s something wrong with her.’

  I stumbled across the field in the bloody boots, falling a couple of times in my haste to get back to the farm. I knew how much Jimmy loved that cow; he would be heartbroken if anything happened to her. I hoped it was nothing serious.

  I opened the gate and ran into the yard. The wind was picking up bits of straw and muck and rattling the metal urns that were lying around, and there was another sound, a kind of whimpering. I stood still and strained my ears. There it was again, and it was coming from the barn. The door was slightly open; there was just enough room for me to slip through without making a noise. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I saw them. Olive was cowering in the corner. She looked terrified. Her doll was lying on a bale of straw as if she had been playing with her. Albert had Olive’s arms pinned against the barn wall so that she couldn’t move. Then I saw one of his hands slide down and lift up the edge of her skirt. I picked up the first thing I saw – it was a spade leaning against some old machinery. I swung it back with all my might. The sound as it hit the back of Albert’s head made me feel sick. He fell forward and landed on top of Olive. She scrambled out from under him and ran to me.

  I was frozen to the spot, I literally couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at Albert’s body lying on the barn floor.

  Olive was whimpering beside me and I looked down at her. Her face was the colour of chalk. I knelt down beside her and took her in my arms; she was shaking. We clung to each other. I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

  Tears were streaming down her face. ‘Albert,’ she whispered.

  ‘Hush now, it will be all right,’ I said. But I knew it wouldn’t, it wouldn’t ever be all right again. I hadn’t meant to hit him so hard – my only thought had been to get him away from Olive.

  ‘Have you done him in, Nell?’

  I walked across and prodded him with my foot but he didn’t move, he was like one of the cows up in the field – except that he wasn’t a cow, he was a person, and I’d killed him. I had, I’d killed him.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ said Olive, staring at me.

  I kept looking at Albert’s body, hoping to see some movement, willing him to move, but he didn’t.

  ‘Nell?’ whispered Olive.

  I shook my head and pushed my wet hair away from my face.

  ‘We should tell Jimmy, Nell, that’s what we should do
. We should tell Jimmy that you’ve killed Albert. Jimmy will know what to do.’

  ‘Yes, Jimmy,’ I said.

  Olive picked up her doll and we ran out of the barn and up to the field. I was screaming Jimmy’s name over and over. He started running towards us. When he reached me I fell into his arms, pulling him down with me onto the wet grass.

  ‘I didn’t mean to, Jimmy,’ I said, clutching at his coat. ‘I didn’t mean to, I didn’t, I didn’t.’

  ‘Didn’t mean to do what?’

  ‘She killed Albert, Jimmy, Nell killed Albert,’ sobbed Olive.

  Jimmy was looking between me and Olive.

  ‘You’ve killed Albert?’

  Olive nodded.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘He’s dead all right, Jimmy, he ain’t movin. Nell whacked him with a shovel and killed him. I ain’t never seen such a dead person before.’

  ‘Olive, you’ve never seen any dead person before,’ I sobbed.

  ‘I know, but if I had, they wouldn’t have been any deader than Albert.’

  I clung to Jimmy as if my life depended on it. I was terrified – did they hang children? I was fourteen; maybe I wasn’t even a child anymore. ‘What am I gonna do, Jimmy? What am I gonna do?’

  ‘We have to go. We have to get away,’ he said.

  ‘We?’

  Jimmy touched my cheek. ‘Do you really think I’d let you go alone?’

  ‘But it’s not your problem, you don’t have to get involved.’

  ‘I’m already involved, Nell.’

  ‘But what about Martha?’

  ‘Let’s concentrate on getting away from here, eh?’

  I looked down at Albert’s old boots. ‘I won’t get far in these, Jimmy.’

  ‘You’ll have to go back down to the farm.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Yes, you can. You need a change of clothes and so does Olive. If old Ma Hacker’s around, put all your stuff in a pillowcase and throw it out the window. You can do this, Nell, and the quicker you are, the quicker we can get away. Go now.’

  ‘You’ll come back, won’t you?’ said Olive, looking terrified.

  I took a big breath. ‘Course I will, daft, I’ll be back before you know it. You stay here with Jimmy.’

  ‘Okay, Nell.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  The rain had eased off by the time I reached the yard. I walked quickly past the barn, not daring to look in. I’d killed someone, I’d actually ended the life of another person. I’d hated Albert but I hadn’t meant to kill him. It had happened so quickly, as if it was happening to someone else, as if I was watching a film, like it wasn’t really true – but it was, wasn’t it? I’d picked up a shovel and I’d killed Albert Hacker. There was a bit of me that was saying good job an all, he got what he deserved; someone would have done away with him in Bermondsey, that was for sure. Well, there was nothing I could do about it now: Albert Hacker was dead and that’s all there was to it.

  I looked in the kitchen window. I couldn’t see Mrs Hacker but it was so dirty, it was hard to see anything much. Perhaps she’d already found Albert; perhaps she was at the end of the lane this very moment, waiting for the police car to arrive. I opened the door as quietly as I could. It creaked – I’d never noticed it creak before. I guess it had never really mattered before whether it creaked or not. The kitchen was empty. I ran up the stairs and started stuffing clothes into a pillowcase. Should I throw it out the window? What if Mrs Hacker was down there somewhere? But then again, she could have come into the kitchen and I would have to walk past her with a pillowcase full of clothes. I decided to throw it out the window and just hope that it wasn’t going to land on her head. I opened the window and let it fall.

  Someone must have been looking out for me because when I crept downstairs the kitchen was still deserted.

  There was a loaf of bread and some cheese on the table. I had no idea when our next meal would be so I grabbed the food and stuffed it under my coat. There was knife on the side so I took that as well and, for good measure, I added a couple of tin mugs.

  There was no one in the yard when I got outside, so I picked up the pillowcase and started running towards the field.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Jimmy as I reached them. ‘We have to run, Olive, okay?’

  ‘Yes, Jimmy, I can run.’

  ‘Good girl.’

  We’d been running for about ten minutes when I stopped. ‘Jimmy?’ I shouted.

  He turned around. ‘What?’

  ‘My locket, I have to go back for my locket.’

  ‘You can’t,’ he said. ‘You’ll get caught.’

  ‘I have to, I promised Mum. I promised her I’d give it back the next time I saw her.’

  I could see Jimmy’s mind ticking over.

  I stared at him. ‘I have to get it.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘But I’ll get it, you keep running.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘If I don’t catch you up, there’s an old abandoned barn a couple of miles away. Keep going straight and you’ll find it. Wait for me there, I’ll come as soon as I can.’

  I hadn’t moved.

  ‘Run,’ he said. ‘I’ll find you.’

  I didn’t want to let Jimmy go but I grabbed Olive’s hand and we started running.

  Jimmy’s couple of miles felt more like ten and we kept stopping to rest. I stared across the fields hoping to see Jimmy but there was no sight of him. The rain was now a relentless drizzle that soaked our already sodden clothes.

  ‘Auntie Missus is getting wet,’ said Olive sadly, ‘and she doesn’t like it.’

  ‘Here,’ I said. ‘Put her in with the clothes, right in the middle where she can keep dry.’

  Olive handed me the doll. ‘Me legs are hurtin, Nell. I don’t think they want to go any further.’

  ‘It can’t be far now,’ I said, ‘then we can rest in a nice dry barn. That’ll be good, won’t it?’

  ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have killed Albert, Nell.’

  I swung round and held her shoulders. I was cold and wet and angry. ‘How did Albert know you was in the bloody barn anyway?’

  She mumbled something that I couldn’t hear.

  ‘What?’ I shouted.

  ‘I wanted to play with Auntie Missus so I went and got her. When I come downstairs Albert was sittin at the table and I got scared so I run into the barn.’

  ‘And he followed you?’

  There were tears running down Olive’s face and I gathered her into my arms. ‘I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry I shouted at you. None of this is your fault.’

  ‘If I hadn’t gone and got Auntie Missus…’

  ‘He would have tried it on some day, Olive, he was just waitin for his chance.’

  ‘Cos he’s a bugger?’

  ‘He’s the biggest bugger I ever met.’

  Olive wiped the rain and tears away from her face and grinned up at me. ‘He’s a dead bugger now though, ain’t he?’

  I shook my head. ‘You’ll never go to heaven, Olive Patterson,’ I said.

  ‘Course I will, God will understand – he forgave that robber bloke so he’s bound to forgive me for saying bugger.’

  ‘I’m sure he will,’ I said. But I couldn’t help wondering if he would forgive me.

  It felt as if we’d been walking for ages, but at last we came over the crest of a small hill and down below us I saw a large building, half hidden amongst a copse of towering beech trees. It had to be a barn. I hoped it was the right one. We stood still for a moment or two as I shielded my eyes with my hand and gazed around. There were no other buildings that I could see, save a sprawling farmhouse in the distance, a jumble of outbuildings.

  ‘That’s it,’ I said to Olive. She looked up and smiled at me. Her face was pale and tired but her eyes were hopeful. ‘Come on,’ I said, ‘not much further.’

  We walked down the hill towards the barn. It was very large. A sloping roof was supported by wooden walls and facing us were rickety old do
ors. The roof was uneven, dipping in parts as if it was about to cave in, and it was covered in moss and ivy.

  The track leading up to the barn was rutted and stony. Small heaps of dried cow pats spotted the ground and there was a haze of midges, nettles and cow parsley as high as my shoulder.

  The closer we got to the huge building, the more nervous I felt, but I kept my chin up, determined not to show any fear to Olive.

  ‘Look!’ she cried, pointing at something scuttling along the edge of the bales. ‘A mouse!’

  It wasn’t a mouse, it was a rat. And if there was one rat, there would be others. I swallowed hard and pushed open one of the wooden doors. It creaked terribly and pigeons roosting on the rafters flapped up in a panic and rushed at us to get away. Olive screamed and hid behind me. I ducked my head and covered my hair with my hands but the birds were soon gone, disappearing into the afternoon, and quiet descended on the barn. It was dark apart from the area immediately beyond the door, which was full of soft sunlight. Motes of dust and tiny pieces of straw floated in the light. A small, grey feather drifted. I took a deep breath. Now all we had to do was wait for Jimmy.

  Chapter Twenty

  The first thing that hit me was the smell, but it wasn’t an unpleasant smell. It was must and dust and old hay, and then the sharp tang of oil and metal and rust. As my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, I saw an old abandoned tractor in the corner. Above it was a loft with a wooden ladder leading up to it, half the rungs missing. In the far corner of the barn, well away from the hay, were the remains of a fire and some empty cans, so I guessed that it had sheltered others looking for some place to rest before us.

  Tarpaulin was bundled in one corner, along with spades and scythes and giant pitchforks: the farmer’s tools.

  I stepped forward. The floorboards were wide and old. The inside of the barn felt safe, like a sanctuary. I looked up at the roof, high above us, the light shining through it.

  ‘It’s like a church,’ said Olive.

  ‘You know what?’ I said. ‘You’re right.’

  We sat down in one of the stalls, which was dry and warm. We took off our wet clothes and hung them over the wooden partition, then put on the dry ones from the pillowcase.