by Katie Flynn
The other speaker said something Mo couldn’t quite catch and then Mrs Hughes broke in. ‘Yes, I know – there were no mention of a teacher. It never occurred to me they weren’t what they claimed to be until this evenin’, when the boy came back late from sledgin’ with his mates. They thought I was safely tucked up in bed so they took over my kitchen.’ Here Mo distinctly heard her grind her teeth. ‘Never asked, of course, but they had what you might call a bit of a conference. I were about to go in and ask what they thought they was doin’ when I heard the name Huxtable, which was who your mate said was wanting to find them. So I stayed me hand and heard the teacher say somethin’ about goin’ back to Liverpool one day because they couldn’t spend their whole lives running away.’
There was an exclamation so loud that Mo heard it distinctly, and also the sentence which followed. ‘You keep your hands on them kids and we’ll claim the reward, half each,’ the woman said. She must have then asked how long the trio would remain in Banc-y-Celyn, for Mrs Hughes replied: ‘Till Monday, that Miss Trent said, so we’re all right for a bit, but we’ll have to talk again because I’m in me nightgown and fair freezin’. But I’ll ring you again after nine o’clock, when they’ll be out of the house. Do you know who’s givin’ the reward? The scuffers?’
This time Mo was so keen to hear the answer that she actually pushed the parlour door a little wider and heard the reply distinctly. ‘I’m not sure. It could be the Huxtables, I reckon, whoever they are. But I’ll speak to my mate and find out a bit more.’
By the time Mrs Hughes put the phone down Mo was halfway up the stairs, and she shot into her bedroom to find Glenys sitting up and staring at the alarm clock. She began to ask where Mo had been but Mo jumped into bed and clapped a hand over the teacher’s mouth.
‘Hush,’ she whispered urgently. ‘I’ll tell you what I’ve been doin’ in a minute, when Witchy has gone back to bed.’
Mo told the story rather well, she thought, though she left out any allusion to the black cat. It had, after all, only been a dream. And she was glad she had said nothing about Solly when Glenys accepted her story without question and began to look for her clothes. ‘As soon as you’re dressed you nip up to Jimmy’s room and wake him,’ she hissed. ‘We’ve got to get away from here. Tell Jimmy to dress like lightning and pack his stuff into his bag. Are you sure she’s gone back to bed, love? Only I don’t fancy walking into her . . .’ she glanced at the alarm clock, ‘at five in the morning and explaining that we’re doing a moonlight.’
Mo nodded. ‘I heard her bedroom door shut,’ she said, and disappeared to wake her brother.
Presently all three of them foregathered in the kitchen, Jimmy still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. ‘What I don’t understand . . .’ he began, but was interrupted.
‘Explanations can come later; you’ve got the bare facts and that will have to be enough for now,’ Glenys said. ‘We’ll catch the first train that leaves the station.’
They let themselves out into the windy darkness. Glenys had left the outstanding rent on the kitchen table with a note to Mrs Hughes explaining untruthfully that they were going back to Liverpool since she had heard that a job awaited her. Then they made their way to the station, only feeling safe once they were on board a moving train, heading deeper into Wales. Glenys had made each of them a packet of sandwiches and had left an extra few shillings so that Mrs Hughes could not accuse them of stealing her food as well as cheating her of the reward. ‘Not that she’d ever have got a penny out of the Huxtables,’ Jimmy remarked, sinking back in his seat, as outside the window the countryside grew lighter. ‘What’ll we do, Auntie Glenys, if we don’t find our mam’s relatives? As you said, we can’t run for ever.’
‘We’ll disappear into the countryside like a raindrop into a puddle,’ Miss Glenys said gaily. ‘Goodness, it’s getting quite light, and it must be pretty mild because the fields are showing more green than white. Furthermore, I’ve had a thought. As soon as we stop at a station big enough to have a public call box we’ll have another go at reaching Frank.’ She chuckled. ‘Mrs Hughes and her horrible sister aren’t the only ones to make use of the telephone system. I won’t try a tiny station, because everyone knows that operators in country districts listen in. But where the branch line goes off, I think we might try there. At least we can tell Frank which town we’re heading for and he can tell us about this reward. It should make interesting listening.’
The train was a slow one, stopping at every tiny station. Sometimes passengers came aboard, sometimes goods such as boxes of groceries or livestock were loaded into the guard’s van, but whenever there was a telephone box there was also a queue. Even when the train was moving, it seemed to crawl along; work on the line, a porter at the last station had told them. ‘This ’un will be a couple of hours late, if you ask me.’
‘A couple of hours!’ Glenys had said. She had reached out and patted Mo’s cheek. ‘Never mind, love. You’ve been so good and patient that when we’ve got some spare money you shall buy yourself a little treat.’
Mo had smiled, stretched and yawned, and later she had stood up and gone out into the corridor, returning to say she was sure she could walk faster than the train was travelling. ‘When we get to the next station, I’m going to run up and down the platform so’s I’m really tired, then perhaps I can sleep until we reach where we’re going,’ she had announced.
But now the train had stopped again and there seemed to be some sort of altercation between the station staff and the passengers, for there were voices raised in protest, and a general outcry when they were told that this train would not take them all the way to its advertised destination.
Mo, nose pressed to the window, turned to Glenys. ‘Even if I got down and tried to push my way through, it wouldn’t be possible to run backwards and forwards along the platform,’ she said. ‘Oh, but there’s someone selling drinks – cups of tea and that – from a sort of trolley thing further down the platform. Would you like a drink, Auntie Glenys? If you give me some money I’m sure there would be time for me to join the queue and buy us a cup of tea. This train won’t be going off in a hurry, by what the guard said.’
Glenys agreed that this was a good idea, but when Mo had jumped down on to the platform she called her back. ‘Wait a minute, love. Is that a telephone box I can see just round the corner of the station buildings? If so, I do believe I might try to get in touch with Frank.’ She hesitated, looking up and down the crowded platform. ‘Tell you what, I’ll go to the call box and you go to the drinks trolley, and if either of us see the porter waving his green flag we’ll warn the other one and get back on the train. Jimmy, put our bags on our seats and don’t let anyone move them.’
Glenys headed for the phone box, glancing at the station clock as she did so and noting that this was a time when it had never occurred to her to ring Frank; she had always been at the school. For once there was no queue at the box, so she went inside, laid out her pennies in a long line and lifted the receiver. She gave the number to the operator and to her considerable astonishment and delight it was Frank himself who lifted the receiver at the other end.
‘Oh, thank God it’s you, Frank,’ Glenys said gratefully. ‘We’ve been living in a small Welsh village, searching for Griffiths, but we’re on the move again. I can’t explain why . . . no time. Can you tell me what’s happening at Solomon Court?’
There was a noisy crackling and then Frank’s voice, distorted and faint, spoke in her ear. ‘Glenys? Where are you?’
‘We’re in transit,’ Glenys said. She hesitated. ‘Look, I’ll ring you at the same time tomorrow and give you our new address. But what’s happening your end?’
The line buzzed and crackled again. She thought Frank said, ‘Don’t stop there . . . farther . . . not safe for you and the kids to . . .’ crackle, crackle, crackle.
Desperately, Glenys raised her voice to a shout. ‘We’re heading for Bangor, but we’ve decided to stop at Deniol on the way . . .’ The line b
uzzed and Frank’s tiny voice seemed to get even tinier.
‘Terrible line . . . might catch up with you . . .’ The line crackled again.
‘Catch up where? In Deniol? Do you mean you will catch us up, or the Huxtables?’ Glenys said desperately. ‘This perishing line . . .’
But at this point the operator’s voice cut in. ‘Place six more pennies in the box, caller,’ she said, and her voice too, was distorted. Glenys grabbed her pennies and began to feed them desperately into the slot provided, but just as she finished the line went dead.
Cursing softly beneath her breath, Glenys tried to reach the operator to ask to be reconnected, but it was useless. She thought that whatever the trouble was further up the line it must have affected the telephone, and pressed button B to get her money back, without success. Crossly, she thrust open the door of the box, and as she went across the platform an elderly porter caught her arm. ‘Excuse me, miss, been tryin’ to telephone, have you? That there box should have a sign on sayin’ Out of order.’ He wagged his grey head. ‘Button B isn’t workin’, either, but if you come along to the office we’ll refund your money, because it’s our fault, see?’
‘I’d be most grateful,’ Glenys began. ‘I lost a shilling in pennies and I need it urgently to contact my friend. Is there another box in the village that’s in working order? If the train stops here long enough . . .’
But once more the porter was shaking his head. ‘There’s a box all right, but the train’s as full as it can hold, and will be drawing out at any moment. It’s the one the workers from the quarry up the hill there . . .’ he gestured vaguely to the tree-covered hills nearby, ‘catch to get home, only today of course it’s late and tempers are a bit frayed. So unless you want to miss it . . .’ He plunged a hand into his uniform pocket and handed Glenys two sixpences, saying as he did so: ‘Sorry it’s not pennies, miss, but no doubt someone will change this for you.’
Glenys took the sixpences, thanked him, and waved to Jimmy and Mo, who were leaning out of the window and making signs that she should hurry, though the train was still stationary.
As soon as she was aboard the two children bombarded her with questions, but Glenys could only shake her head. ‘It was a terrible line, and in the end we got cut off,’ she told them. ‘I think Frank said we should get as far away as we can; it sounded as though he was afraid the Huxtables might catch up with us otherwise. However, if we carry on at this rate we might not get much further than Deniol anyway, so I think we’ll just wait and see how we feel when we get there. I asked him what was happening his end, but I don’t think he could hear me. Still, at least we’re in touch again. I mean to ring him at the same time tomorrow, and we must just hope for the best.’ She took Mo’s hand and began to push her way through the quarry workers, but Jimmy jerked at her arm.
‘It’s no use going back to our compartment, Auntie Glenys,’ he said. ‘They wouldn’t let us save the seats because we’re only a couple of kids, and of course they’ve been working the early shift and want to sit down. So we brought our luggage into the corridor, and when they get off we’ll be able to find seats once more. One of the men told me it’s normally only a twenty-minute ride to his station, but it might be longer today because of the work on the line.’
Glenys sighed, but when the train stopped at the next small station and a couple of the men got out, she and Jimmy were able to grab their seats. She offered Mo her knee, but Mo had seen another attraction. A boy had come on to the platform, staggering beneath the weight of a wooden crate. This was a quieter station than the last one and he went along to the guard’s van shouting for someone to give him a hand. Mo jumped down and ran along the platform, seizing one end of the crate and peering through the slats at the occupant, a puppy. It was black and white and fluffy, and Mo recognised it as a border collie, for she had recently watched fully grown dogs of that breed herding sheep. The boy pushed the crate into the guard’s van and left with a brief word of thanks. Mo climbed into the van and knelt beside the little dog to read the label.
‘You’re going to travel with the guard, little fellow,’ she cooed, ferreting in her pocket for the remains of a cheese sandwich which she had decided to save for later. ‘Are you hungry? You can have my sandwich, little man, and I’ll just run along the train and tell my brother and Miss Trent that I shall go the rest of the way with you. I’d love a dog of my own, so perhaps, when I’m given some money for being good, I could buy a puppy.’ The puppy, which had wolfed the cheese sandwich, wagged its plumy tail and cocked its head to one side. The guard, who had been watching indulgently, pointed out the puppy’s empty water bowl, and an equally empty bottle, inside the crate. ‘I’ll fill it,’ Mo said eagerly, extracting the bottle through the slats of the crate. ‘And I’ll tell my auntie that I’m going to travel in the guard’s van from now on to keep my new friend company. Is that all right?’
The guard grinned. He was a short, thick-set man with one yellowing tooth and twinkling little eyes. ‘You make sure your auntie agrees before you come back, cariad,’ he said. ‘You’d best hurry; we’re well behind schedule already and likely to be too late for folk wanting to catch a connection.’
But Mo was already out of hearing, tearing along the platform intent upon reaching the carriage in which she knew Jimmy and Glenys awaited her. Jimmy beckoned her from the window, and she ran over to him. ‘There’s a puppy in the guard’s van what needs water and a friend,’ she gabbled. ‘I’s fetchin’ him a drink, then I’ll stay in the guard’s van till we leave the train. Only you’ll have to fetch me out of the guard’s van, or I shan’t know when to get off.’
‘Right you are,’ Jimmy said, and went back into the compartment to tell Glenys as Mo hurried off to fill the puppy’s bottle at the outside tap. It was only half full when the train gave a warning whistle. Mo cursed softly beneath her breath, turned off the tap, rammed the cork back into the bottle and straightened up. Fortunately the guard’s van was always at the tail of the train and she was sure the friendly guard would make certain that she got in. She started to trot towards it as the train began to creep slowly out of the station, and then her heart went cold, for a tall, heavily built man was walking along the platform peering in at every window as it passed him. Mo realised with a stab of fear that he would be bound to see her if she carried on. For the first time, she looked around her. She had been so intent on the puppy that she had scarcely noticed that the station was in thickly wooded country, ideal for hiding in. She contemplated dashing across the platform full tilt and leaping aboard the guard’s van before the man could react, then dismissed the idea, for the simple reason that the guard had just slid the long door closed. Mo stared, almost unable to believe her eyes, but then remembered that she had promised to get her aunt’s permission before journeying with the puppy. She had done so – well, Jimmy’s anyway – but the guard was not to know that. He was simply doing his duty, and Jimmy, of course, would assume she was safely in the van.
Even as Mo wondered what best to do, the man turned away from the train and came striding towards her. She caught a glimpse of heavy eyebrows drawn together in a frown and a duffel coat with the collar turned up to hide most of his face, and then he spotted her. ‘Hey, you!’ he shouted. ‘Come here. I want a word with you!’
For one terrifying moment Mo stood statue still, staring at the man approaching. Then she threw the bottle at him with all her strength, hearing it break into a thousand pieces as it bounced off his chest and hit the platform, and then she was running, dodging in and out of the trees, slipping and sliding, panting with effort, until she could no longer hear him crashing through the wood behind her. She found a space where the undergrowth had filled in a gap where trees had fallen and wriggled into the thickest part of it. For a long time she simply lay there, peering out between the tough stems of dead bracken, brambles and nettles. It was only then, in the silence, that she put her hands over her face and began to cry.
Glenys had told Jimmy about the man w
ho had looked into the compartment – Jimmy had been in the lavatory at the time – but she had attached no significance to it, since the man had scarcely glanced at her before scowling and moving on. ‘He didn’t get on the train, but anyway I’m pretty sure he was nothing to do with us,’ she had assured Jimmy. ‘He had thick black eyebrows and a bushy black beard. He looked like a seaman, or so I’d judge from his clothing, but I imagine he was searching for a pal he’d expected to meet at this time, and hadn’t heard about the two-hour delay.’
The train stopped at their destination, and Jimmy leapt up to lift down their bags before grinning at Glenys. ‘What’s the betting Mo will want to stay with the puppy until she can hand it over to its new owner?’
‘Well she can’t,’ Glenys said decisively. ‘If we find your relatives and they agree to her keeping a pet that’s one thing, but she really must learn to do as she’s told, so you make it pretty plain that she has to come along straight away.’ As she spoke she was collecting crumpled sandwich wrappings and empty cardboard cups, and casting an eye around the compartment to see that all was as it should be. Then she and Jimmy went into the corridor and along to the nearest door to step down on to the platform. ‘Give me the bags, and you go and winkle Mo out of the guard’s van. I’ll wait by the ticket office. Tell her she’s got to come now, no matter how much she pleads to accompany the puppy; I’ve got her ticket, and they won’t let her out of the station without it.’
Jimmy sighed, and held out a hand. ‘You go ahead, Auntie Glenys,’ he said. ‘Give me my ticket and Mo’s, and you can be fixing up a lodging whilst I prise her away from the puppy.’