by Pauline Fisk
'Just as long as you want,' the woman said. 'You'll soon be out again. And you needn't worry about your dog. I'll take care of him.'
'Quickly then,' Arabella said. The pitch of Jake's howls rose but she couldn’t bear the thought of missing anything. ‘We'll see the Special Room.’
The woman led them in triumph down the tent between the mirrors. She held up a flap at the end. Behind it, Bonnie could see a dark interior.
'Why does she want Arabella?' she thought. 'Why did Grandbag ever want me? But what does it matter anyway? Nothing can change the way things are.’
Her feet stumbled forward. She followed Arabella, ducking under Grandmother Marvell's arm. She heard Jake's last howl.
'Through the door at the end,' Grandmother Marvell said. She dropped the canvas flap behind them, and there was silence. They were on their own, the two of them in the dark. What had she meant, the door at the end?
'Where are you, Bonnie? I can't see a thing.' Arabella bumped into Bonnie and grabbed her hand. 'It's funny in here. Can you see where we came in?'
'There's danger in here,' thought Bonnie. She could almost put out a hand and touch it. 'There's danger in here, and Arabella won't ever come out again and maybe I won’t either.'
'It smells funny,' Arabella said.
'It smells like darkness,' Bonnie thought.
'What's that?' Arabella said.
'Where?'
'Over there.'
Bonnie's eyes made out a distant, grey, light. 'I don't know,' she said. 'Let's find out, shall we? She said we had to look for a door.'
She stepped forward, taking Arabella firmly by the hand. Suddenly the necklace seemed to rise up all round her neck. For a minute she thought that it would strangle her. She felt hot pain. She felt it like a pair of angry, murderous hands. Bonnie stopped. Gasped. Chewed into her lip to stop herself screaming. She tasted blood in her mouth.
'What is it?' Arabella said.
'It's… nothing.' Arabella couldn't see Bonnie’s face. She couldn't see the bright tears or the sweat. And what were the tears for? Were they just for the pain, or were they for her — because she couldn't stop now, however bad she was being, she had to go on?
'Come on.'
They edged their way towards the light. Bonnie's heart pounded. Her body roared with pain. She didn't know how she kept herself from crying out, how she kept them moving forward. Sweat rolled down her face. If ever there was a moment when she should turn about, take Arabella away, surely this was it. And yet she didn't. She saw the outline of the door, flush with the wall and painted black so that you hardly knew it was there.
'We've found it,' she heard her voice say.
Arabella peered through the gloom, and suddenly the thundering pain round Bonnie's neck went away. Everything became quiet and still. Bonnie pinched her hand. She was real. She could think clearly again. Whatever happened next, she would have no excuses.
'You go first,' she said. She put her hand on the door and it swung open. She saw a huge, grand mirror in a gilt frame, glinting out at them like secret eyes beneath closed lashes. She stepped behind Arabella. Then, distantly, she heard an angry cry which reminded her of Grandbag. She heard something rushing towards them both…
'It's too late,' she thought with her new, dreadful clarity. 'Whatever it is, it's too late. Arabella's gone.'
But she was wrong. Something rushed beneath the tent flap, bringing momentary light with it. Arabella, on the threshold, hesitated. It rushed towards them and then past. It brushed their legs as it tumbled through the door.
It was Jake. Bonnie watched him go. He ran wildly, howling, into the mirror. She watched him go, go, go. She heard his scream becoming fainter, saw his body grow small, small, small. And then, in a split second, but as if it had taken minutes, he was gone, leaving behind him only the faint smell of, what was it, death…?
Arabella screamed. Bonnie felt her hand go out and this was the dreadful thing she'd always known she could do. This was what she'd come here for. She knew, as she watched herself in fascinated, clear slow motion, that she was reaching for Arabella's back, that she was pushing her into the mirror after Jake, that she was going to get rid of her for ever. Her head was no longer full of the fuzz of pain that made everything unreal. This was really her, and she was really doing it.
Then her hand gripped Arabella by the shoulder. It pulled her back. Pulled her away. She heard a distant, unexpected voice, and it was her own voice, shouting, 'Come on, Arabella, come on, we've got to get away.'
They ran together down the dark room, bursting through into the blinding brightness of mirrors and lights. Grandmother Marvell crouched, reflected a hundred times on every side, nursing her hand where Jake had bitten it. They pushed her out of the way and stumbled back into the world they’d come from.
Here in the showground, with crowds around them, they ran as neither of them had ever run before. Past the rifle range, back towards the judging tent, round behind the animal pens, into the car park and finally back to the Land Rover, which they tumbled into, safe again amongst the smells and familiar sights and bits and pieces of home -Florence's jacket, Mum's bag, Dad's spare tobacco pouch...
'What happened, Bonnie?' Arabella asked, when she could speak at last. 'What happened to Jake? What happened in there?'
Bonnie looked at her. The stinging round her neck was gone. She waited till her breath came evenly again. She was still possessed with awful clarity.
'I nearly killed you.’ she said. 'I nearly killed you.'
PART FIVE
Getting Rid of Grandbag
17
They sat up in the back of the barn, high among the bales with the soft material of the balloon tumbling between them onto the stone floor. Mice scuffled in a distant corner and farm cats prowled between lean shafts of sunlight, looking for the next meal.
Bonnie told it all: Maybelle and Michael and the midnight blue balloon and Grandbag. How she felt about Mum and Dad, about Highholly Hill. How she'd felt about Arabella, felt when Mum said Belle. About the night she'd seen them all together in the bed, about the rifle range and the way she'd put her hand on Arabella's back to push her into that last mirror…
She couldn't stop it now. She couldn't spare herself, and now Arabella would hate her. She'd tell Mum and Dad and they'd hate her too. Bonnie’s life upon the hill fell about her like a house of cards. This, not running away, was how it would end. She told about Wild Edric and the Lady Godda. She told about the necklace, unbuttoned her shirt to show it off. Arabella's drooping head looked up.
A shaft of teatime sunlight fell on the gold heart of the flower and the blue enamel. They shone with all the richness of autumn leaves and the brightness of a clear sky. There was more to this story than just hate. Arabella leaned across and touched the necklace lightly, nervously. Its diamonds glinted like rainbow tears.
'Now I know why you kept fumbling with your collar,' she said.
Bonnie nodded grimly and twisted the necklace round. 'It's cooled down now,’ she said. 'It doesn't burn any more.' She struggled with the silver hands again. 'I still can't get it off. You ought to have it. It's your hill, not mine.'
She tugged again and Arabella imagined Godda's necklace lost for ever in little bits down amongst the straw. 'Be careful,’ she said. 'You might break it.' She touched the necklace again. Godda's necklace. She thought of the painting in Mum's sitting-room. Thought of the Throne on the top of the hill.
'They're real, aren't they?' she said.
'What?' said Bonnie.
'Wild Edric and the Lady Godda. They gave you the necklace and it helped save us both. They did what Mum's stories say they do. They guarded their hill. Looked after us. They're really down there somewhere underground.'
Bonnie remembered the shaking hill. She remembered how she'd tried to get off it and how she'd failed. They'd made her find that necklace, hadn't they - she the only one who understood what it warned about, she the only one who knew Grandbag…
'
Yes.’ she said. 'They’re real.'
They looked at each other. Out beyond the barn door, Dad whistled in the yard, but there was no pattering of Jake's feet following him. No matter what had happened, what Bonnie had felt, no matter how things were between them still, this wasn't over yet.
'All that woman’s got is a dog, and if she's really like Grandbag — and she surely is — she'll be furious because she hasn't got you. You've no idea how mad she'll be. She's bound to try again.'
'But why? There seems no reason.'
'If you knew Grandbag, you'd understand. She catches sight of things, you see, and they have to be hers. And not just things either. People too. If someone's hers, she'll never let them go. She wouldn't let me go. And she wouldn’t give a chance to Maybelle either.'
'Perhaps she loved you both too much.'
'Oh no. It wasn't like that. She doesn't love anything. It's greed.' Bonnie's face was lined and tight and tired now. 'Maybe Grandmother Marvell has seen the hill in your face and wants what she’s seen,’ she said. 'Or maybe it's you she wants. I don't know. But it won't stop there. Don't you see? She'll want Mum too, and Dad and Mr and Mrs Onions. Maybe even Edric and Godda. She'll want the house. She'll want the barns. She'll want the sheep and the cattle and the holly grove and the stones on the top. She'll want everything… '
Arabella shivered. 'What'll we do?'
Bonnie looked through the long shafts of sunlight, through the cracks in the door, up towards the house. There was only one thing to do - and then Mum and Dad would know all about her, know the horrid things she'd done.
'We'll have to tell them what happened,' she said, swallowing hard. 'We'll have to warn them.' She slid forward and scrambled down the bales. When she got to the ground she brushed herself down and stretched her stiff limbs. 'But will they believe us?'
'I don't think Dad will,’ Arabella said, following her down. 'He doesn't dream of magic things. The holly grove, for instance. It's just a grazing site for him. A bit of pathway up the hill. Nothing strange at all. But Mum might. She belongs to the hill, you see. It's where her family's always been. She was brought up with Wild Edric. She knows there are funny things about this hill.'
'Well, we'd better tell her then,' Bonnie said. 'Grandmother Marvell won't waste any time and neither should we.' She made for the door, anxious to get the awful moment over. Arabella watched her.
'You won't go, will you Bonnie?' she suddenly said.
Bonnie turned and stared in surprise. 'What was that?'
'When this is all over,' Arabella said, surprised at herself too. 'When Grandmother Marvell's gone and everything's safe again, you won't fly off and leave us, will you? You know…' She held up the blue stuff of the balloon and managed a shaky smile, 'fly off in your balloon.'
'But I hated you.'
'I know.'
'I could have killed you.'
'But you never did.'
Cats and mice scrambled. Sparrows chattered outside. Arabella was saying that, despite it all, things between them were all right. It couldn't have been easy for her. Bonnie thought, 'But I don't deserve to stay. It isn't all right. She might forgive me but I can't forgive myself.'
A voice broke into their thoughts. 'Arabella, Bonnie…' It was Mum up on the terrace.
Bonnie tugged the barn door. It shuddered open. 'We'll talk about that later,’ she said. 'In the meantime, there are more important things to do.' And she walked away.
After tea, Mum went straight to bed. Her face was pale and strained and despite her reluctance Dad insisted.
‘This always happens after the Show,' he said. 'It's a lot of work what with all you do for it, and then there’s been all the work on the harvest too. Come on, don't argue. I'll see to Florence and the girls will clear up tea.'
'I feel so pathetic,' said Mum. 'I ought to be going down to look for Jake.'
'He'll look after himself,' Dad said. 'He's no fool, that dog. You couldn't really lose him. You wait and see, he'll be back again in the morning.'
Bonnie had hoped this might be their chance, but Dad got hold of Mum and pushed her through the door and up the stairs. She began washing the dishes instead, not knowing whether she was sorry or relieved. She wiped the wooden table and set Mum's prize-winning flower arrangement in the middle of it. Arabella put Dad's trophy for the best milking cow up on the shelf next to the stove. Dad disappeared with Florence and her nightdress towards the bathroom. Arabella looked at the empty place beneath the window where Jake always lay.
‘Perhaps we should go and talk to Mum,' she said.
'Maybe.' Bonnie found herself hesitating.
'Or leave it till the morning?'
'I don't know.'
'Will Grandmother Marvell come in the night?'
'I don't know!'
Arabella sighed. 'Nothing feels right,’ she said. ‘It's not like Mum to go to bed so early. And it’s not like her to fail to notice when something's wrong. Why has it got to be like this tonight?'
Before Bonnie could answer, Dad reappeared. 'Florence fell asleep before I even got her into her cot,' he said. 'Let's go and light a fire in the sewing-room. It's always the same after the Bank Holiday Show. There's a definite hint of autumn in the air.'
'I'd like to go out,' Bonnie said. 'If that's all right. I'll join you later.'
'Of course,' said Dad. He filled his arms with kindling from the firebox, and newspaper and matches. 'But don't be long. You may have forgotten, Bonnie, but I haven’t forgotten how early your day started. You must be every bit as tired as Mum.'
It was a relief to stand out on the terrace in the clear, fresh air. Good to get out of the house, and to be quiet, and to hear the owls fluttering above the trees and to watch the harvest moon rising.
Bonnie slid through the gate into the orchard, up between the trees, over the stile, up the meadow. It was cool now, and getting dark. She reached the holly grove, stooped between low branches.
'Where are you?' she called. There was no reply. 'I know you're here,' she called again. 'You have to be. Look, I need to talk.’
There was still no reply. Bonnie looked all around her. Nothing stirred. Not a shadow flickered. If she'd thought the shadowboy would know what she should do - if she'd thought he'd be a friend when she needed one - she'd been a fool.
'Of course,' she whispered angrily. 'You're not a person. You don't care what happens. I forgot.'
Bonnie climbed back out of the grove. The farmhouse lay below her. Smoke was rising from the chimney and she thought of Dad and Arabella round the fire and Mum and Florence in bed. She looked at the bright lights of the fairground shining like stars in the dark valley and, as she made her way back to the house, she thought of Jake as well.
18
Arabella woke up. She stumbled out of bed, heady with sleep, and fumbled her way, hardly knowing what she was doing, into her dressing-gown. In the back of her mind she knew it wasn't really morning, wasn't time to get up yet. But all the same, she made her way down the stairs. There was something, wasn't there, something that had woken her up, something she didn't want to think about and yet it had forced her out of her bed…
The kitchen was full of steely dawn. The first of the grey morning light caught the kettle by the side of the stove. Everything was still and quiet. Arabella stooped and opened the wheel that let the air into the stove. She lifted the big lid and set the kettle on the hob. The pipes began at once to hiss with the new day's life.
What was it that Arabella didn't want to think about? She didn’t know because she couldn't get her head out of the clouds of sleep. She tightened the dressing-gown around her and fumbled with the latch. She tiptoed through the scullery and struggled with the bolts and crept outside.
The hilltop was clear, but the valley was smudged with thick, white mist, out of which only a church spire and the tallest trees protruded. Arabella sighed. What was she doing out here? She called Jake. She didn't know what made her do it, because she wasn't dressed for a walk and her feet w
ere cold and bare. But she called, 'Jake, Jake, come here boy… ' and he didn't come. And then she knew.
It was as if Arabella had swallowed a lump of ice and it had got stuck halfway down. As if she were sinking like a bag of drowning kittens in a pond. She stared at the misty valley. Was there really a showground down there? Were there marquees, the remains of yesterday's pens and stalls and a tent of magic mirrors? Or had she, please, had she imagined it all?
She called Jake again. Once more there was no reply. The sun broke over the top of the hill on the far side of the valley. It would be hot later. It always was after mornings like this. Its rays lit up the yard and the fields around it, making them alive – shiny with dew, and green and fresh and even the mist in the valley started melting away. Arabella made out roofs and hints of hedgerows. She saw Hope Dingle. She made out flags and the top of a roundabout and the marquees…
There had been a Show. She hadn't dreamed it. There had been a tent of magic mirrors…
Back in the kitchen, the kettle bubbled cheerfully now. Jake's place by the window was bare. Leaving the boiling kettle to steam the windows, Arabella crept back through the house and up the stairs. She found Bonnie lying in bed, her fingers twisted round Godda's necklace. 'There you are,' she said. 'I wondered where you'd gone. Have you seen Mum?'
Do you know what time it is?' Arabella said
Bonnie squinted at the clock. A quarter to six. ‘Your feet are blue. What have you been doing?’ she said.
Arabella pulled off her dressing-gown. She didn't want to talk. She didn’t even want to think. She got back into bed. 'What are you doing now?' Bonnie said. 'I'm cold,’ she replied. ‘I'm going back to sleep.’ She lay looking out of the window by her bed. Above the meadow, Edric's Throne was on fire with pink morning light. Even if she had seen Mum, it would make no difference. Jake was gone.'