A Summer Promise (15 page)

Tom groaned, but got out of the car and held the door for Marigold to alight, saying as he did so: ‘I see no lady, only a little blonde kid who should be quite capable of opening a door for herself.’ The truth was he had been knocked sideways by the girl’s golden good looks, but now he grinned at Marigold’s indignation, then staggered as she swung her satchel, catching him a good blow in the midriff.

‘Thank you, vassal,’ she said loftily and then, seeing reprisal in Tom’s face, set off at a fast trot towards her landlady’s front door.

She had almost reached it and Tom was getting back into the car when Maddy called after her: ‘Hang on, Marigold! Are you coming into town on Christmas Eve?’

Marigold turned back. ‘Of course, because if
she’s
going, I’m not having the three of you ganging up on me behind my back!’ she said, imitating the very tone that Alice had used.

Tom laughed. ‘I take it then that all four of us will be going,’ he called. ‘See you on Christmas Eve.’

After what had happened last time Mr Browning did not wish to drive right up to Maddy’s door, so she got out of the car when Alice did, hefting her heavy satchel and shaking a reproving head at Tom when he offered to walk her home. ‘No, you go indoors with your dad; I’ve got a good torch, and besides, I know the way between Larkspur and the Hall like the back of my hand.’ She giggled. ‘I’d probably end up walking
you
home if you insisted upon coming with me.’

‘Well, if you’re sure . . .’ Tom began.

‘I’m sure,’ Maddy said firmly. She had no intention of allowing Tom to walk four miles, for having accompanied her to Larkspur he would then have to retrace his steps. And it was true that she knew every inch of the path she trod so regularly. Indeed, the little scuttlings and squeaks which accompanied her steps were as familiar to her as the voices of her classmates. As she set off she hummed a little tune beneath her breath, telling herself that if Gran objected to her going out on Christmas Eve she would simply make certain that the O’Hallorans would be in and then slip away anyway.

She was a good walker, taking the steepest part of the lane in her stride, but her satchel was heavy and slowed her down quite a lot. She had bought her bran tub gift as well as some small things for particular friends, including a soft and silky length of pink hair ribbon which she intended to bestow upon Alice. She had hidden the ribbon away at the very bottom of the satchel, not wanting Alice to see it. She was just wondering what Alice had bought for her when she suddenly felt a tingle in her spine, almost a warning; something was different, something in the lane ahead of her – no, to the right – had altered the composition of the shadows. For one moment Maddy was gripped by panic. The urge to run, to look neither right nor left but simply to reach home and safety, almost overcame her, but then common sense came to her aid. She looked searchingly to her right and saw not so much an intruder as a thickening of the shadows on the bank, which could have been caused by a sheep or a cow or some other largish farm animal. And yet . . . and yet . . .

Maddy stood her heavy satchel down, stretched and yawned, trying to give the impression that she had stopped to ease her aching arm for a moment, then picked the satchel up and stood there, swinging it hopefully before she spoke. After all, if it was only a stray animal . . . but she was sure it was not; she would not have felt the warning tingle if it had been merely a straying creature standing so still in the shelter of the hedge. Maddy summoned all her courage and spoke, her voice loud and firm.

‘I can see you, so you might as well come out.’ She was conscious of a gust of cold air and thought for a moment that she saw movement on the far side of the hedge. When she looked harder, however, she could see no one. ‘What the devil are you doing here anyway? These pastures are private property. And let me tell you that if you think you’re hidden . . .’

There was a moment of silence and then someone slid down the bank and stepped into the lane and Mr O’Halloran smiled ingratiatingly, producing a small torch and shining it into his own face. ‘’Tis meself, missy. I heared you a-comin’ and got out of your path ’cos I didn’t want to frighten you. But mebbe ’twas the wrong t’ing to do.’

‘Mr O’Halloran!’ Maddy said crossly. ‘What on earth do you think you’re playing at? I don’t frighten easily, but seeing someone pressed into the hedge and keeping quiet is enough to scare anyone. How silly you are! Why didn’t you just call out when you heard me coming up the lane? And now you can jolly well carry my satchel, because it’s heavy.’

Mr O’Halloran took the satchel and in the tricky moonlight Maddy thought his smile was almost malicious. ‘I telled you, missy; I didn’t want to frighten you,’ he repeated. ‘Knowin’ what a one you are for ghoulies and ghosties, I t’ought I’d not put ideas in your pretty l’il head. And now let’s get into the warm, for I’ll be knockin’ icicles off me nose if us stays out here much longer.’

Maddy began to say that her one-time preoccupation with water babies could scarcely come under the heading of ‘ghoulies and ghosties’, then decided against it. The more she thought about it the more certain she became that the figure on the other side of the hedge had not been either a ghost or her imagination, but a flesh and blood man or woman, who had melted soundlessly into the black and silver of the moonlight and disappeared before he or she could be challenged. ‘But what were you doing in the lane, Mr O’Halloran?’ she asked rather sharply. ‘I thought you were looking after Gran.’

There was a perceptible pause before Mr O’Halloran answered. ‘I was returnin’ from Haywain’s poultry farm, after arrangin’ to buy a goose for our Christmas dinner,’ he said. ‘I’m to pick it up on Christmas Eve.’

They reached the gate and Mr O’Halloran swung it open, setting off across the yard at a smart pace, but Maddy tugged at his sleeve. ‘And who were you with? There was someone else on the other side of the hedge.’

She had hoped to surprise Mr O’Halloran, but when he answered his voice was calm. ‘Ghosties you’re seein’, miss, if you t’ink there was anybody in the lane barrin’ us two,’ he said. ‘And now no more nonsense. We don’t want to frighten Mrs Hebdyke with talk of ghosts.’

‘Ditch,’ Maddy said automatically and smiled to herself. She knew how it irritated Gran when Mr O’Halloran got her name wrong. ‘You’re right about the weather. I can’t wait to get into the warm. Let’s hope there’s a good fire in the grate.’

MADDY AND TOM
were working on an old sledge which Tom had discovered in the hayloft at Windhover and decided to bestow upon Madeleine to help with her shopping. It had scarcely stopped snowing for more than a couple of hours at a time since it had started on Christmas Eve, and carrying supplies up from the village was becoming a problem.

‘So what do you think?’ Maddy said with assumed casualness as Tom, who had been securing one of the steel runners which had come loose, stood back and wiped his brow.

‘Phew,’ he said. ‘I know it’s cold but I’m sweating cobs, as they say up here.’ He eyed his work appraisingly. ‘That’s more like it. In fact, you’re going to end up with a nice light little sledge, far better than the Thwaites’ humping great thing. It’ll take both Dad and me to tow that one home once it’s fully laden.’

‘Oh, dear. I suppose I ought to say you’d better keep this one, only I’ve already told the O’Hallorans that they can use it for their shopping trips,’ Maddy said, dismayed. ‘But you’ve worked so hard, Tom, that if anyone deserves to benefit from the result of your labours, it’s you.’

Tom shook his head. ‘No, I was only teasing. You know what the Thwaites are like; they’ll get us to fill the big sledge to the limit. So you’re safe to consider this one your own. I doubt if the Thwaites even know it exists.’

‘Well, thank you,’ Maddy said gratefully. ‘But you haven’t told me what you think about the O’Hallorans being in town that day.’ It was something that had been worrying her on and off ever since the expedition to the Christmas market.

Tom grinned. ‘I wasn’t exactly listening, but I rather gathered you’d asked yourself the question and haven’t had a satisfactory answer.’ He leaned over and tweaked a loose lock of hair which had fallen forward on to her forehead. ‘What was it you said?’

‘Tom, you are the most exasperating boy I’ve ever met,’ Maddy said. ‘I told you – I saw Mr and Mrs O’Halloran in the market when they ought to have been at home with Gran. I should have asked them what they were doing, but I didn’t want to upset the applecart.’ She looked appealingly at Tom. ‘You see, life’s been so much easier for me – and so much pleasanter – since the O’Hallorans moved in. Gran treats them just the way she used to treat me – she shouts at them and waves her stick and threatens to cut their wages if they don’t do as she bids them – but I don’t think they really bother much; they’re very independent, you know. So I’m really glad they’ve come to live with us, and I didn’t want to cause trouble by asking how they’d managed to leave Gran alone without her kicking up the most enormous hullabaloo.’

Tom sat down on a straw bale and eyed Maddy quizzically. ‘So you never even asked?’ he said incredulously. ‘Madeleine Hebditch! And I’ve always thought you as brave as a lion! Are you telling me that your gran never complained that she’d been abandoned? From what you’ve told me, that isn’t much like her.’

‘It isn’t much like her at all; that’s what’s got me a bit worried,’ Maddy admitted. ‘And there’s another thing: I met Mr O’Halloran in the lane that night, and I thought I saw someone with him, but when I asked him who it was he said I was imagining things. But I wasn’t, Tom, I’m sure I wasn’t, only before I could say so he’d opened the kitchen door and there was Mrs O’Halloran, and Gran asleep in her chair. She woke up when we went in, and she didn’t complain about being left, or say her tea had gone cold, which it had; she just said she’d had a lovely sleep and since I’d decided to abandon my posh friends and come home at last would I kindly put the kettle on and fetch her a few biscuits because she was fair clemmed. So, I went to the pantry to get the biscuits and Mrs O’Halloran followed me, saying she’d made a couple of jam tarts especially for Gran and me. I did ask her, casual like, where she had been all day, and she looked me straight in the eye, bold as brass, and said: “Why, Maddy, in this very kitchen, giving an eye to your gran and baking a dozen mince pies and them jam tarts I mentioned.”’

‘Hmm,’ Tom said thoughtfully. ‘So what did she say when you told her you’d seen her at the market?’

After a pause, during which Maddy felt the hot blood invade her cheeks, she gave a shamefaced shake of her head. ‘I didn’t say anything, Tom. Only now I know she tells lies and that makes me feel uncomfortable. Oh, I knew she did tell the odd fib to Gran, just to keep her quiet, but I didn’t think she would lie to me about something like that. And then there’s another strange thing . . .’

‘Fire ahead then,’ Tom said when Maddy hesitated. He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Why are you asking me, though? I’d have thought you’d want to know what Alice or Marigold thinks.’

Maddy shook her head. ‘I’m not sure; maybe it’s because you’re older, and I know you won’t laugh at me, or scoff, because I really am worried. You see, I
like
the O’Hallorans, and I trust them, or I did. But now Mr O’Halloran has suggested to Gran that she might buy a heifer calf from Mr Sutherland so that we could have milk without needing to walk all the way to and from the farm, and when I said we didn’t have enough money he winked and said that Gran’s post office book would scarce notice the price of such a calf. I didn’t think Gran had ever let anyone else handle her savings book, but when I questioned her she admitted quite cheerfully that the O’Hallorans had both withdrawn money for her from time to time. She said she always checked what had been taken out, so I needn’t worry that my inheritance was shrinking.’

Tom grinned. ‘She’s a cunning old woman; she knows a remark like that would make it seem self-seeking to enquire further,’ he observed. ‘Well, all I can say is, watch them, though I don’t suppose you need that sort of advice.’ He chuckled. ‘Whether they know it or not you’ll be on your guard from now on, and
do
you know how much your gran’s got in her savings book?’

Maddy pulled a face. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Save that it’s enough to pay the O’Hallorans a small wage for some time.’ She jumped to her feet. ‘And now we ought to try out this wonderful sledge of yours. Shall we have a sneaky go before we tell Alice that you’ve mended the runner? She’s always fair so she’ll take turns all right, but she may only want to try it out down a small slope, and I’m keen to see how it goes high up in the fells. What do you say?’

‘Why not?’ Tom said. He was bright-eyed and flushed. ‘Tell you what, you’re only a slip of a thing, so you sit on the sledge and I’ll pull you to the top of the long meadow; then I’ll get aboard behind you and we’ll see how far we can go before the snow gets too soft and we grind to a halt. Then we’ll be more or less on the same level as the Hall and you can nip over and tell Alice that we’re all set for a morning’s sledging. She’ll be looking at her blessed magazines in the library, I expect, and she’ll need five minutes or so to kit herself out with a thick coat, scarf and woolly hat, so while she’s selecting her warm things you can ask Mr Thwaite whether they’ve any skates hidden away somewhere. The pond down by the village is frozen and as soon as it’s safe to do so half the village will be skating on it.’

‘I might have some skates,’ Maddy said thoughtfully. ‘Gran used to talk about wonderful skating parties by the light of the moon, and I believe she was very athletic when she was young. We hardly ever go up to the attics now the O’Hallorans sleep there, but I’ll make time to do so and see if I can find a pair of skates which would fit me.’ Tom had been pulling her along on the sledge as they spoke, and now she looked round. ‘Is this the top of the long meadow? It’s difficult to tell with the snow hiding all the landmarks.’

Tom nodded. ‘It’ll do,’ he said briefly. ‘Are you ready?’

Maddy noted how tiny the Hall looked from here and wondered what sort of landing they would have if they set off from such an exalted position. She was beginning to voice the thought when she felt Tom’s weight land on the sledge behind her and before she could do more than squeak they were off, travelling faster and faster, the wind whipping her hair out into a long tail behind her, to Tom’s annoyance.