The Runaways

by Ruth Thomas

  ‘Come on,’ Elizabeth urged her. ‘Say yes, say yes.’

  ‘Shall I?’ said Julia, uncertainly.

  ‘Yes of course. We’ll have a marvellous time. You won’t regret it, I promise you.’

  ‘I’ll have to think about it,’ said Julia.

  ‘Go on then. Think.’

  Julia had never been so dazzled by anyone in her life. She thought it would be wonderful to go with Elizabeth. The glittering prospect was just too tempting, and Julia opened her mouth to say yes – but just then her eyes focused on Nathan, still sitting sulking in the middle of the wood. He looked lonely and abandoned – though he was the one who had stumped off – and Julia wondered how he would manage without her. And then she thought suddenly that what she was nearly going to do wasn’t right. When you ran away with someone, you couldn’t leave them halfway through and go off with someone else.

  ‘No,’ said Julia.

  ‘You mean, no, you won’t come with me?’

  ‘I have to go with Nathan,’ said Julia, simply.

  ‘You won’t get another chance like this,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Going with me would be really something.’

  ‘I know,’ said Julia, ‘but I have to go with Nathan.’

  ‘Oh well,’ said Elizabeth, ‘perhaps you’re right. As you say, he is your friend.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Julia.

  ‘Not to worry. Obviously it just wasn’t Meant to Be.’

  ‘Come on, Nathan,’ Julia called, but he refused to answer or even turn round, so she had to go right up to him and repeat herself. ‘Come on, we’re going now.’

  ‘Just us two?’ he growled, without looking up.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You sure? You sure she ain’t still trying to push in?’

  ‘She’s not coming, honestly she’s not. It’s just us.’

  ‘Good, then.’

  He dragged his feet back to the camp, not fully convinced, and glaring suspiciously at both girls.

  Elizabeth bore the two of them no grudge for rejecting her. She helped them pack up, working with a will. Nathan, still profoundly mistrustful, gave her a few sideways looks as they pulled the tents down, but his scowls seemed only to amuse her.

  As they rode off, Nathan delivered his parting shot. ‘I was only joking what I said about Evil Eye spells.’

  ‘Oh really?’

  ‘Yeah – actually I do a lot of Evil Eye spells. I was putting an Evil Eye spell on you just now, while you were talking to Julia.’

  ‘Oh, how interesting! What was the spell about?’

  ‘If you tell anybody about Julia and me, about us camping here, and going to Sedgemoor and all that, you—’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You going to get really sick; you probably going to die!’

  Elizabeth broke into peals of laughter, and cheerfully waved them out of sight.

  13

  A terrible hill

  ‘I wonder what it will be like at Sedgemoor,’ said Julia, when they stopped by the roadside for a rest.

  ‘Don’t matter what it’s like, because we’re not going there,’ said Nathan.

  ‘I thought you said.’

  ‘That was just for Elizabeth. In case she tells anybody. We’re really going to Exmoor.’

  ‘I see. What about the steep hill?’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Shall we be able to push the bikes up?’

  ‘Can’t be that bad. We been up lots of steep hills. That Porlock Hill can’t be much worse.’

  ‘Wonder what Elizabeth’s doing now.’

  ‘Long as she ain’t grassing,’ said Nathan, grimly.

  Julia was sure that Elizabeth would not give them away. Show-off and know-all she might be, but she was no sneak. Julia did not tell Nathan that Elizabeth had asked her to leave him. That was her secret, there was no need for him to know.

  They came to a crossroads, and the sign showed that the road to Watchet was straight ahead, with Minehead to the left. Julia read the signs, all by herself, and told Nathan what they said. He went close to check she was right, and she was. ‘You’re coming on, Ju,’ he said, quite surprised.

  Julia was quite surprised too. After all, she had only been working at the reading for two days. She dimly perceived that it was largely a matter of really wanting to learn, and having confidence. Nothing succeeds like success, and success was really coming to her now. In all sorts of ways. At last.

  They rode steadily along the road to Minehead. They were on a main road now, and although there were ups and downs, the going was much less hilly than before. With no steep slopes to climb on foot, the children were able to make much faster progress. It felt good, bowling along in the summer weather – so good that Nathan found himself breaking into song, a thing that he did not remember ever doing before. He sang ‘We all live in a Yellow Submarine’, which he had learned in school, and he had a voice which sounded surprisingly sweet in his own ears.

  ‘You sing good, Nathan,’ shouted Julia, coming up behind him.

  Nathan was pleased that Julia had praised his singing, and in a sudden burst of generosity and goodwill, he offered to change caps with her. She could have the plain one which they had bought in Marks and Spencer’s, and he would wear the one with the hated KISS ME on it.

  Julia accepted joyfully, and they stopped to make the exchange.

  ‘I think your hair’s growing a bit,’ said Nathan to encourage her, as she stood bareheaded for a moment. Julia put her hand up to feel. She didn’t think there was really any difference yet, but it was kind of Nathan to say there was. The children mounted their bicycles again, and pedalled on.

  Every time they came to a signpost, Julia practised reading the names. Washford, Billbrook, Carhampton, Dunster. She couldn’t manage them all by herself, but Nathan helped her.

  On the outskirts of Minehead, the smell from a fish and chip shop reminded them that it was lunch time and they were hungry. They bought chips and a piece of fried chicken each, and because it didn’t seem quite right to sit on the pavement in a town they rode on, following the signs for Porlock until they were in open country once more, and there was a comfortable grass verge where they could rest and eat their meal.

  ‘I’m starving,’ said Julia.

  ‘I’m ravenous,’ said Nathan, showing off that he knew the word.

  It was the first freshly cooked food they had had in days. Fun though it was to use their stove, it had to be admitted that stuff warmed up out of tins just wasn’t the same.

  ‘We forgot to buy something to drink,’ said Julia, suddenly feeling thirsty.

  Nathan was feeling thirsty too. He had put rather a lot of salt on his chips, and with no Coke to wash them down, he was rather wishing he hadn’t. ‘Let’s ride on a bit,’ he said. ‘There’s sure to be another shop soon.’ He screwed the paper that had wrapped his chicken and chips into a rough ball, and threw the ball into the hedge.

  ‘You didn’t ought to do that,’ Julia scolded him ‘It’s dirty to throw litter about.’

  Nathan scowled. He didn’t like being criticized. The children rode on, but somehow the happy mood of the morning was clouded over. They were thirsty, and beginning to feel stiff and tired. Pushing the pedals was more effort than pleasure, and there were no shops anywhere along this road.

  ‘You should have remembered the Cokes,’ Nathan accused Julia, unfairly. ‘There was plenty of places in Minehead. You’re always forgetting the drinks.’

  ‘What’s wrong with you remembering?’ said Julia. ‘You was too greedy for your food.’

  ‘So was you greedy.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘Neither I don’t care. I don’t care what you say.’

  ‘We bound to come to Porlock soon,’ said Julia, tiring of this pointless exchange.

  But it was a long hard ride. The beauty of the wooded hills to their right was lost on Nathan and Julia, as they slogged ahead, silent now, conscious only of increasing physical discomfort. At last
there was a turning to the left and a steep, steep drop down. The bicycles gathered speed and Julia shouted in triumph as she read the sign by the road. ‘Porlock, we’re here!’

  ‘Hooray,’ said Nathan, cheering up.

  There was a long narrow street, with pretty cottages and lots of little shops. The chidren bought two cans of Coke each, and drank them sitting on the pavement even though it was a town they were in. Then they had an ice cream each and Nathan had a second ice cream, and thought about having a third but changed his mind because he was already beginning to feel slightly sick from the two he had eaten already.

  ‘Nathan,’ said Julia suddenly, ‘I think that’s the hill.’

  ‘What hill?’

  ‘You know – the big hill up to Exmoor. The one Elizabeth said we have to go up.’

  Absorbed in other matters, they had almost forgotten why they had come to Porlock. They had forgotten all about the Hill. But now they realized they were looking straight at the horrid thing.

  ‘I can’t,’ said Nathan. ‘Not today. My legs won’t go.’

  Julia’s legs would not go either. ‘What shall we do then, Nathan?’

  ‘I dunno. Put the tents up somewhere I suppose. Go up the hill tomorrow, when we had a rest.’

  ‘Where can we put the tents though? Shall we go back the way we come, and look for a field?’

  Nathan groaned. ‘Ju – remember! That was a steep hill too. We’d have to push the bikes up it if we go back. Let’s go on. Get it over with. See where this road goes to.’

  ‘All right. I hope we find somewhere soon though. I’m tired, Nathan.’

  ‘I’m more than tired,’ said Nathan, ‘I’m exhausted. I’m completely and absolutely exhausted. I don’t know if I can even ride out of this town. I shall probably fall off my bike and break my other arm . . . not really, you fool.’

  Fortunately, the onward road out of Porlock was fairly flat, and the pedalling was easy on the children’s legs. There was nowhere to put the tents though, nowhere hidden, nowhere with water. They passed a sign which said CAMPING, and Nathan asked Julia what she thought though he knew the answer already.

  ‘Course we can’t go to a proper camping place, course we can’t. They’ll ask questions. They’ll want to know where our mum and dad is.’

  It was very frustrating. They had the money for a campsite – for a hotel if it came to that – but they couldn’t use it because people would ask questions, and they’d be caught.

  They rode on, hoping for the problem to solve itself. Suddenly Julia gave a joyful yell. ‘The sea, the sea!’ They were coming to a place called Porlock Weir. Not a town this time, just a collection of picturesque cottages and little tearooms. But – yes, you could call it the sea. There was a strip of blue-grey on the far horizon which was undoubtedly water, and a vast stony beach in between.

  ‘It’s horrible seasides here,’ said Julia, disappointed, ‘Not a bit like Brighton. I much rather Brighton, wouldn’t you, Nathan?’

  ‘Yeah – what we going to do now though, Ju? There’s no more road.’

  It was true. The road ended here, in this tiny village. There was only the beach on one side of them, and steep wooded slopes on the other. And in front of them a little harbour, empty of water naturally, since the tide seemed to be permanently out in this part of the world, but full of colourful little boats. Sailing boats, rowing boats, motor boats.

  ‘I’m hungry again,’ said Julia. ‘Do you think it’s supper time?’

  ‘Probably,’ said Nathan. ‘Let’s have something to eat, then think what we’re going to do.’

  They bought more chips, and some hot pies to go with them, and a huge bottle of cherryade to wash it down. They bought chocolate bars for after, and sat on the hard pebbles to enjoy their feast, taking their time to make it last.

  ‘There ain’t even a cave,’ said Julia despondently, gazing round the desolate scene.

  By now the sun had disappeared entirely behind the high slopes, and a chilly wind had begun to blow. When they had first arrived, there had been a few people on the beach still, and on a sort of causeway on the other side of the harbour. But now the scene was empty of humans – there were only seagulls and, rather incongruously, a black cat with round wary eyes, picking its way delicately over the stones on the beach. Nathan called to the cat, and it came at once, rubbing its head against his stroking hand and purring. Cats liked Nathan. He thought of his cats in London, the ones in the empty house, and wondered how they were managing for food, now he wasn’t there to look after them. He felt a sudden and unexpected stab of homesickness, which he immediately and very firmly drove away. Just because they were a bit tired and miserable this evening, that was no reason to start thinking about home, and cats and stuff. Nathan stopped stroking the cat, and pushed its behind gently with his foot.

  ‘Go away, puss, go on home.’

  Offended, the cat stalked off, waving its tail stiffly in the air.

  ‘Suppose we’ll have to stay here,’ said Nathan, since someone had to say it first.

  ‘On the beach?’

  ‘Where else?’

  ‘Somebody might see.’

  ‘We could cover ourselves with the tents.’

  ‘They still might see – and the bikes. We’ll get caught, Nathan.’

  ‘But there isn’t nobody here, Ju. There isn’t nobody to see us. They’re all in their houses having supper and watching telly.’

  ‘I wish I was indoors watching telly.’

  ‘No you don’t. Not really. You don’t really wish that, do you, Ju? Only ’cause it ain’t very good tonight. It’ll be better in the morning. It will!’

  ‘Yeah . . . perhaps.’

  ‘Come on, Ju, cheer up, cheer up – eh?’

  ‘I know,’ said Julia suddenly. ‘I know what we can do. We can build a shelter with the stones.’ She looked around. ‘Over there, down that slope. If we go down there they won’t see us doing it, even if they look out of their windows. I don’t think they’ll see us. Shall we do that, Nathan?’

  ‘All right. That’s a good idea, Ju. You do have good ideas.’

  Now that there was purposeful activity, the adventure was fun again. Tiredness forgotten, the children worked in the gathering dark to make, a hollow in the stones big enough to hold themselves and their bicycles. They stretched the tents over the top, weighting the edges with pebbles to stop them blowing away. Then they crawled inside, to lie in their sleeping bags. It was hard and uncomfortable, but quite warm, and waves of drowsiness began to wash over them immediately.

  ‘Night, Nathan,’ Julia murmured, sleepily.

  ‘Night, Ju. See you in the morning.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘It’s going to be good tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  They slept.

  It was just beginning to get light when they awoke, and Julia thought they should get moving straight away, before anyone in the village was up to see them coming off the beach. There were some biscuits and the remains of the cherryade for breakfast, and although it was not exactly what they were used to at home, it went down well enough. They were getting used to strange sorts of meals by now.

  The tide was actually coming up the beach, so the children washed their hands and faces in sea water. Then they packed up, lugged the bicycles over the stones, and set off along the road they had travelled yesterday evening, back towards Porlock, and the dreaded Porlock Hill. Not that they were dreading it this morning. This morning they were full of bounce and confidence. The sun was peeping from behind early clouds, striking heartening warmth, and the birds sang madly in the hedges, encouraging them on their way. They could tackle anything.

  ‘We’ll have to wait for the shops to open,’ said Julia, when they reached Porlock.

  ‘What for?’ said Nathan, who was hopping with impatience to get on the moor.

  ‘Elizabeth said there’s no shops.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I forgot. We got to load up with stores.’

  �
�We best take as much as we can. As much as the bikes will carry.’

  The children waited, sitting on the pavement, until their shadows had shortened somewhat and a few other early risers appeared in the street. No one took any notice of Nathan and Julia. This was summer time and a holiday area, and strange faces and campers with bicycles were a common sight.

  As soon as one grocery shop opened, the children made their purchases. Since it was Sunday, and the country, they were lucky to find a shop open at all.

  They bought a few tins of meat, and some powdered milk for the tea, but mostly they bought crisps and biscuits, since Julia said those things would be lighter for carrying on the bicycles. Lighter perhaps, but still bulky. Every spare bit of space in the backpacks, carriers and panniers was stuffed with food, and still it would not all go in – so they hung plastic bags from the handlebars, and hoped the bags would not swing against their legs too much when they were pedalling.

  It was not easy to ride the loaded bicycles. They wobbled from the weight, and wanted to topple over even along the flat ground. To ride them up Porlock Hill was out of the question of course. The children dismounted and began to push – knees bent and arms aching from the strain before they had gone more than a hundred metres.

  They passed a ruddy-faced local, almost sitting in the hedge, who called out a genial greeting. ‘You got a job on there, ab’m’ee?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Nathan though he hadn’t much spare breath to say it with.

  ‘Better use they brakes when you gets to the steep part.’

  What did he mean by the steep part? Wasn’t this part steep enough? Nathan grunted acknowledgement of the warning and plugged on. Julia managed a wan smile, but her legs were already buckling a bit, her breath coming in short gasps.

  Unbelievably, with every step, the road in front of them seemed to rise more sharply. The children went on struggling to force the over-loaded bicycles up, and up, but the effort was untold agony. Soon the bicycles were starting to roll back, dragged by their own weight, and dragging the children with them. They tightened the brakes, and that helped a bit, but it wasn’t enough.