In Darkling Wood (5 page)

The after-school bus drops me in the village square. Walking the steep hill home, I get my phone out. There are no messages from Mum or Lexie, but that single bar of reception makes me call them both because I’m dying to talk to someone from home. When neither of them answers my eyes fill up, although I’d probably cry if they’d answered too; it’s been that sort of day.

Reaching the woods, I walk slowly, kicking up leaves. The air smells muddy and damp. All I hear now is the wind in the treetops. It’s a whooshing, roaring sound like you get inside a seashell, even when you’re a million miles from the sea.

Everything
is
far away, that’s the problem. I’ve never gone this long without Mum or Theo. All day they’ve kept popping into my head. I’d be doing fractions or thinking Max had a nice smile or wondering why Ella was in a sulk, and then –
ouch
– I’d remember: I’m
here – they’re there. Though it’s a different sort of hurt from when Dad left for Devon, because then he chose to go.

Out of the gloom, something red comes towards me. It’s Flo. I’m stupidly pleased.

‘You got here quick!’ I say, grinning. ‘D’you catch a different school bus or something?’

‘Stop!’ she cries. ‘Don’t come any closer!’

‘What?’

‘Stay where you are! Don’t move!’

Her hands are in the air, palms facing me. She looks panicked. I feel the grin freezing on my face.

‘Now,’ she says, taking a deep breath. ‘Very slowly take a step back.’

‘But …’

‘Just do it, Alice!’

‘All right! Keep your hair on!’

I do as I’m told.

‘Now take another step, and another, until you’re back by that tree.’ She points to an old twisted trunk. Once I’m stood by it, she comes over – not directly, but in a roundabout way like she’s avoiding a certain spot.

‘It’s a good job you didn’t step inside the ring!’ she says, pink-cheeked and flustered. ‘That almost went
horribly
wrong!’

I’ve not the foggiest what she’s on about.

‘The fairy ring,’ she says. ‘Didn’t you see it?’

She’s pointing to the place where, moments ago, I’d been about to step. All I see is dead leaves.
Nothing odd in that.
The entire floor of this wood is covered in the same carpet of reds and yellows and browns.

‘It’s late in the season, but you can see where mushrooms were,’ she says. ‘Look. Here. And here.’

She traces a circle shape with her finger. I don’t know about the fairy part but there’s certainly some stubby grey things poking up through the leaves.

‘Go on then, what would’ve happened if I’d stepped into the fairy ring?’ I ask.

I’m thinking thunder. Lightning. Or nothing at all. It’s very hard to keep a straight face, especially as Flo looks so serious.

‘You’d become invisible,’ she says. ‘Or the fairies would make you dance until you died.’

‘Right,
of course
.’ This is nuts. Then she points at my bobble hat, which I’m wearing pulled right down over my ears.

‘But if you’d worn your hat inside out, it would’ve protected you.’

She’s back on that again.

‘Wow. That’s … um … helpful to know, thanks,’ I say.

Irritably she stuffs her hands in her pockets. ‘I wish you’d believe me. This is terribly important, you know.’

‘Sorry.’

I don’t want to upset her. The thing is I’m glad Flo’s here. She’s, I don’t know,
different
. I wonder if she wears that red coat to school; it’d stand out a mile. But then if she’s a Traveller she might not go to school, and maybe that’s why I didn’t see her today.

‘Do you care for these woods?’ says Flo suddenly.

I’m caught off guard.
Care?
It’s an odd thing to ask.

‘They’re kind of beautiful, in an eerie way,’ I say. ‘But I get why Nell wants them cut down. The roots growing so close to the house means she’ll end up with subsidence …’

‘
What?
’

‘It’s something to do with the foundations of the house becoming unsafe …’

‘I know what it
means
,’ Flo snaps. ‘And it’s clear what your grandmother feels about Darkling Wood. But I asked what
you
think of it. Do
you
care?’

Do I? It’s not something I’ve really thought about.

Looking at the trees, they seem less spooky today. More mysterious. As I take a deep breath, I feel something, though I’m not sure what it is.

Flo speaks first. ‘Your grandmother plans to clear this wood, and in doing so will destroy the homes of the fairies that live here. It’s a terrible, pointless thing she wants to do.’

‘It’s not pointless to her,’ I say, feeling like I’m defending Nell. ‘Darkling Cottage is her home and she doesn’t want it falling down around her. It’s
her
home she’s worried about. And she wants to let more light in because the house is really dark inside. Honestly, we’ve always got the lights on.’

‘So you believe her?’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

Flo’s mouth tightens. ‘I see. But you don’t believe me.’

She’s right, of course; I don’t believe her. But there’s a big difference between pretending there are fairies and wanting your house to be safe. Yet I don’t want her to hate me because of Nell. I had a taste of that from Ella at school today and it didn’t feel very nice.

‘Go on then, explain it to me,’ I say. ‘Why should I believe in fairies?’

Flo squares her shoulders.

‘The fairies are trying to save Darkling Wood because it’s their home. They’re using their magic to delay things, to cause upsets – mischief, if you like – so
that your grandmother will get fed up and abandon her plans.’

It sounds like a story. Or a film. It certainly doesn’t sound real.

‘You want me to believe this?’

‘If you do, it’ll make their magic more powerful, more likely to succeed.’

‘I don’t see how.’

Flo pushes her hair off her face and fixes me with her very blue eyes.

‘Think of your home,’ she says. There’s a break in her voice now. It tugs at something in me. ‘Think of what it means to you.’

I don’t need to think.

I know.

My home is the ache in my chest, and though I’m trying hard not to let it, it’s eating away at me. It’s the thing that’s missing. It’s our house, Number 24 Eastbourne Terrace with blue and red glass in the front door so that when the sun shines through it, it makes coloured patches on the floor.

And I miss it I miss it I miss it.

Flo keeps talking. ‘This wood belongs to the fairies. It’s
their
home. We can’t just take things that don’t belong to us. I’ve learned that the hard way, believe me.
So Alice, I’m asking you to open your mind, to believe that something magical does exist here in Darkling Wood. If you do, it’ll give the fairies strength to save the trees.’

‘Why me? Why does what I think matter?’

‘There are reasons,’ Flo says.

I frown. ‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘But the fairies have picked you – that’s why they turned your hat inside out.’

I still don’t believe her. It’s all too bizarre. Too weird. And yet I’m aware of a stillness coming over me. I feel calm and peaceful. I haven’t felt like this in days.

Then, up ahead, I hear the gate click. People are coming; their voices get nearer. One of the speakers is Nell. My heart thumps. She’s not going to be thrilled to find me here with Flo, not after the white crosses got wiped off and I was meant to warn her about trespassing.

‘Get down!’ I hiss to Flo. ‘She mustn’t see you!’

We crouch behind a clump of bracken. Fingers crossed it’s enough to hide Flo’s coat. The speakers come into view now. Nell is with a man who’s wearing one of those fluorescent jackets, and as she points at the trees, he scribbles things down in a notebook. I hold my breath. They’re standing near to the fairy
ring. Another step and they’ll be inside it, and for a split second I think about warning them, though of what, exactly?

I bite my lip. My heart keeps thudding, not from nerves now but something else.

I sense Flo watching me.

‘What?’ I mouth.

She gives me a tiny smile. ‘You feel it too, don’t you? You know there’s magic in these woods.’

I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but as I look at Nell and the man my fists seem to clench up tight.

‘I knew I could count on you, Alice,’ Flo whispers.

I don’t know what to think, but it seems we’re friends now, which is a start, at least.

‘How was school today?’ Nell asks at supper.

I’m relieved that’s
all
she’s asking. It would’ve been worse – much worse – if she’d caught Flo and me hiding in the woods.

‘Did you make any friends?’

‘Not really.’

‘Why was that, dear?’

I hesitate. But she’s in a good mood so I tell her.

‘People in my class seem to know about the woods.’

‘And?’

I fiddle with my fork. ‘It’s like they’re judging me because of it.’

‘The eco-warrior bunch, eh?’

Her cheerfulness is down to that man in the fluorescent jacket, who apparently is a tree surgeon she hopes will do the job. I think of what Flo said about home, and how peaceful it felt out there under the
trees this afternoon. Maybe there
is
magic in Darkling Wood – not fairies, but
something
. Perhaps it isn’t right to destroy the whole wood. There might be some other way.

‘What’s the matter?’ says Nell. ‘You’re scowling.’

‘Just thinking,’ I say and turn away to get plates down off the dresser.

The microwave pings. As Nell opens the door to take out a plastic container of bubbling white gloop, my stomach heaves. I can’t face much more of her cooking.

After forcing down supper, my next challenge is tonight’s homework, which is maths and some verbs to learn for French. Nell’s shut herself in the library so I spread my books out over the kitchen table. Tucked in my old school planner I find the card I made for Theo. It’s looking tatty; the edges are curling and there’s a sweet wrapper stuck to the back. A decent sister would’ve sent it by now. It’s no good to anyone stuffed inside my bag.

I can’t concentrate on homework tonight, so, putting it to one side, I get my borrowed school uniform out to wash. Except the washing machine’s so old I can’t make it work, so I fill the sink with hot water and do everything by hand. Borage watches from
his bed. Just as I’m draping things around the stove to dry, the phone rings.

‘Don’t touch,’ I warn him as I run to answer it.

Nell gets there first like she’s expecting a call.

‘It’s your mother,’ she says, handing me the phone.

‘Hi sweetie, how was today?’

Mum sounds cheerful. I’m so glad to hear her that my eyes go misty.

‘It was all right,’ I say. ‘What about Theo?’

‘Have you got to wear the uniform? What colour is it? Don’t tell me it’s dark green – we had to wear that at my old school and it was …’

‘MUM!’

She stops.

‘How
is
he? Is the infection clearing up? When can I see him? When can I come home?’

There’s a pause.

‘I’ve done him a card,’ I say.

Mum sighs. ‘You are sweet. I’m sure you can visit him soon.’

‘And Dad? Does he know how Theo is?’

‘I’ve spoken to him now, yes.’

‘Is he coming to the hospital?’

‘I don’t know. Apparently the baby’s teething so …’ She trails off.

Excuses. More excuses.

‘So,’ says Mum, still trying to sound cheerful. ‘Tell me about your grandma. What’s the house like?’

‘You must have been here – before you had us, I mean.’

‘No, never, though I met Nell a couple of times when you were very young.’

‘And was she … I don’t know … so
spiky
back then?’

Mum laughs. ‘She’s quite formidable, if that’s what you mean. But underneath it all she’s got a good heart. I’m sorry we lost touch with her when you were growing up.’

‘Why did we?’

‘Your father,’ says Mum, serious now. ‘He didn’t ever want to see her, and he never wanted to go back to the house – don’t ask me why. I tried asking but he wouldn’t talk about it. It was always like shutters coming down.’

I glance at the library door. It’s closed but I still drop my voice.

‘It
is
a bit odd here, Mum. There’s these woods around the house and Nell wants them cut down …’

I stop. Something grey lopes past me carrying a yellow-and-black tie.

‘Stupid dog’s got my school tie! I can’t believe it!’ I cry.

Mum giggles.

‘It’s not even funny,’ I say. ‘I’ve got to wear that tie tomorrow.’

‘Oh Alice, he probably only wants to play.’

Which makes my chest ache for Theo because it’s just the sort of stupid trick he’d pull, and a dog is no substitute for a brother.

‘Go and get your tie back,’ says Mum. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’

‘Okay. Kiss Theo for me.’

Putting the phone down, I sprint after Borage. He won’t have gone up to the attic because he hates the narrow staircase, but I can’t see him on the first floor either.

At the top of the stairs is the bathroom. Turn left and a long passage runs past all the bedrooms. I’ve never been down it, I don’t know why but it gives me the creeps – something about those closed doors and how dark the passage is. It makes the walls and ceiling feel too close.

Once the lights are on, I count seven closed doors. It’s a lot of bedrooms; I suppose once upon a time one of them was Dad’s. There’s no sign of Borage anywhere. The first room on my left is Nell’s. I don’t want to go in, not without asking, so I peep quickly round the door.

No Borage.

The next room is empty but for a bed and a box of books. I suppose it could’ve been a boy’s room once, but now it smells of damp, like no one’s been in here for years.

Opposite this room, the wall curves and there are two steps down to a doorway that’s hidden behind a red curtain. I’m about to look there next when my phone beeps. My phone
actually
beeps! I can’t believe it. I whip it out of my pocket and see a text from Lexie.

If I go back up the steps, there’s a bar of signal right here in the passageway. I dial Lexie’s number. She picks up after three rings.

‘Hey!’ I say. ‘You’re not doing homework, are you?’

‘Done it,’ she says. ‘How’s Theo? What’s the latest?’

‘Quite poorly still,’ I say, though with Mum being so cagey I’m not totally sure. ‘What about you? Got a brother or sister yet?’

‘Nope. I’m starting to think it’s just a cushion up Mum’s jumper.’

‘You wait,’ I say. ‘Once you change a nappy, you’ll see it’s no cushion.’

Lexie giggles. It makes me giggle too. Then she says, ‘Bethany Cox has asked me to a sleepover at her house.’

I stop laughing.

‘Why would I want to go? All they do is talk about make-up.’

‘Have you said no, then?’

Lexie pauses. ‘Not yet. Can’t see me going though, can you?’

I start to feel nasty inside. Actually, I
can
see Lexie at Bethany’s house. Not the toenail-painting bit or trying on clothes. But there’ll be pizza and films and other people from school; she’ll have a great time.

‘You’ve gone quiet, Al,’ Lexie says.

I sigh. ‘I missed you today, that’s all. The new school’s a bit rubbish and now the dog’s run off with my tie and I can’t find him – or it.’

‘Want to talk about the rubbish stuff?’

‘Not really.’

‘So let’s find this tie-eating dog,’ says Lexie. ‘Where’ve you already looked?’

‘Down the corridor. In a couple of the rooms.’

‘Try another room.’

The curtained-off door is right here. I go back down
the steps. It’s dark enough to make my phone light up. The curtain’s stiff with dust as I lift it. The door handle underneath won’t move. Tucking the phone under my chin, I lean in to the door with my shoulder but it doesn’t budge.

‘It’s locked.’

‘I bet the dog’s locked himself in there,’ laughs Lexie.

I giggle. Then stop.

‘Shhh!’ I say. ‘Someone’s coming.’

I hear footsteps, then a creak in the floorboards. Nell appears round the corner. She looks furious.

‘I’d better go,’ I say to Lexie and put my phone back in my jeans pocket.

Nell stands in front of me, blocking my escape.

‘I was just looking for …’

‘This?’ Nell holds up my damp-with-dog-slobber school tie.

‘Thanks.’ I take it with my fingertips. ‘Where did you find it?’

‘
Not
behind a locked door.’

Which straight away makes me wonder what I would find there.