The Little Secret (4 page)

Jane and Staffa took the elevator downstairs. Outside the hotel entrance, the big car was waiting.

“Here.” Staffa handed the bag to Jane.

“Oh, wow!” It was stuffed with the most glorious cakes — more than enough for even the greedy Boy Garden. “Staffa, thanks so much!”

“I hope you won't mind going in the car by yourself. The driver knows where to go.”

“I don't mind,” Jane said, though she did mind a bit — the muffled driver gave her the creeps.

“Don't try to talk to him,” Staffa said. “He can't hear you unless you speak through the tube. Hope the boys like the cakes.”

Suddenly, without warning, she gave Jane a quick hug and ran back into the hotel.

Jane lay back against the soft leather seats of the fabulous car, feeling like a film star — wouldn't the boys go crazy when they saw her getting out? This had been an incredible afternoon. Her head was spinning with all the wonderful things she had seen and heard — the gold spider, the painted box, the purple tea, the stories of castles and all-night parties. Staffa and her mother had said some very odd things, she thought. What was all that about Jane being “perfect”? And why did Lady Matilda want to measure her head for a crown?

Jane decided not to tell her parents too much about the visit. She was afraid she would make Staffa's mother sound absolutely crazy. They might stop her from going back, and she couldn't bear that. She hadn't seen nearly enough.

AN INVITATION

Over the next few weeks — slightly to Jane's surprise — she and Staffa gradually turned into real best friends. Staffa's plan to build an army assault course took the Boy Garden by storm. Jane and Staffa and all the boys except little Ted worked on it every day after school, and most weekends, and the shabby paddock was soon a forest of ropes, ladders and oil-drum tunnels. Leonard the horse was moved into the next field, and watched them over the fence with polite interest.

Jane had never had a close friend who was a girl, and as the weeks of the school year went by, she found that she liked Staffa more and more. The peculiar little creature spoke like a nutty old lady, and her clothes never did look normal, but she could race around the assault course like a monkey and she was great at thinking up dangerous games. All the boys thought she was a terrific laugh.

Staffa was extremely generous. She gave them a real climbing net, to make a Wall of Death on the assault course. She gave Jane a three-pack of lovely flowered socks. She gave little Ted a toy fire engine, and her mysterious driver often bought bags of cakes and sweets.

“You mustn't spend all this money on us, Staffa,” Jane's mom said. “We don't charge an entrance fee — we'll be happy if you just bring yourself.”

Staffa said, very seriously, “Please, Mrs. Hughes, grant me this indulgence. My mother and I have more money than we know what to do with. And it isn't often used to bring people pleasure.”

“Poor little kid,” Jane's dad said later. “All she wants is a real family.” He told Jane that Staffa was always more than welcome at the Boy Garden.

Once a week, Staffa took Jane for tea with Lady Matilda. Jane enjoyed these stuffy, strange afternoons. There were always amazing cakes, and large bowls of Woolworth's Pick-and-Mix. Lady Matilda told more fantastic stories about her mountain castle. “Well, it's more of a hunting lodge, really — much smaller and cozier than my main castle in the city. I often send my servants there when they're ill.”

Jane noticed that Staffa was irritated when her mother talked about the hunting lodge, and wondered why. Though she made such a racket while at the Boy Garden, Staffa was usually very quiet during these afternoons. She obeyed her mother's orders like a servant, leaping up to make her endless cups of purple, gasoline-smelling Haw-haw tea.

Lady Matilda talked about ball dresses and hats and jewels, and Jane pretended to listen while she stared at the painted box. The colors of the box were so vivid, and the paintings were so realistic, that she could have sworn they were a little different each time she saw them — had there always been a sunset behind those trees? Wasn't that a new cloud beside the castle turret? She didn't think she could ever get tired of looking.

One thing bothered her. Lady Matilda's stories gradually became more and more far-fetched.

“Oh, I wish you could see our Winter Sleigh Race, Jane! When the ice on the great mountain lake is so thick that you can build a bonfire on it! That's where we hold the Skating Ball, and I hand out prizes for the fastest! And the ice boxing is very exciting too — but my favorite occasion is the Spring Flower Fight, when you can hardly see for the blizzard of petals!”

It was all fascinating, but how much of it was true? Jane waited for a chance to ask Staffa without hurting her feelings. It came one sunny afternoon, a couple of weeks before the end of term. Staffa and Jane were in the paddock, sunbathing against the Wall of Death.

“I must say, I admire you for being so patient with Mother,” Staffa said. “She can be such a crashing bore sometimes.”

“She does go on a bit,” Jane admitted. “Specially when she starts talking about correct behavior, and curtseying to people, and stuff. But I love hearing all the stories about your home. Is it — is it all true? You know, the castles, and the ice balls, and the midnight picnics —”

Staffa laughed, rather grimly. “Oh, those bits are all perfectly true.”

“Are any bits not true? Which bits?”

“I can't explain.” Staffa was unhappy.

“Why not?”

“It would take too long.”

“We're supposed to be best friends,” Jane reminded her. “You should be able to tell me anything.”

Staffa looked at her in silence for a long time. She shook her head. “It's too complicated.”

A very loud blast on a car horn made them both jump. A huge black car raced up the lane, and halted outside the front gate.

“Good grief,” Staffa said. “It's Mother!”

“You're joking!” Jane was horrified — what on earth would Lady Matilda think of the mad, messy Boy Garden?

“Don't panic.” Staffa stood up briskly. “I'll try to stop her from being too embarrassing.”

The car door opened, and out climbed Lady Matilda. “Coo-ee, little girls!” she called. “Isn't this a surprise? I've come to call on Jane's parents! I wanted to see those shining honest faces for myself!”

She was wearing a huge pair of tweed knickerbockers, as baggy as Victorian bloomers. They were teamed with a matching tweed jacket, squeezed very tight over her steep bosom, and tight purple boots with high heels.

“I thought I'd better dress down,” said Lady Matilda. “Jane's family will be very simple folk, and I want to put them at their ease.”

Dan, Jon and the twins had rushed out of the house to stare at the gleaming car. They stared even harder when they saw Staffa's mother. Jane had told them very little about Lady Matilda, mainly because she didn't think anyone would believe her.

Lady Matilda gave them a gracious wave. “What handsome brothers you have, Jane.” She pointed to Mom and Dad, who were standing at the door with little Ted. “And I suppose these two humble peasants are your parents?”

Staffa's white cheeks turned pink. “They're not peasants!” she hissed.

Dad obviously wanted to laugh, but was too kind. “How do you do, Lady Matilda. Welcome to our humble home.” He gave the girls a friendly wink. “Please come inside and have a cup of tea.”

Mom picked up little Ted, just in time to stop him from grabbing Lady Matilda's tweed bloomers with his very dirty hand. “It's lovely to meet you at last — now we can thank you for all the presents.”

“My dear Mrs. Hughes, please don't thank me!” cried Lady Matilda. “It was the least I could do!”

She strode into the house. Mom and Dad hurried after her.

“Sorry about the chaos,” Dad said.

Lady Matilda did not seem to notice the eggy plates and piles of crumbs, or the crowd of boys' faces staring at her from the doorway. She sat down on the strongest-looking chair, which creaked under her weight, and almost disappeared between the cheeks of her bloomered bottom.

“I have come with an invitation,” she said. “In the few weeks that Staffa and I have known your daughter Jane, we have grown very fond of her. She is such a treasure — so delicate and refined!”

The boys snorted with laughter. Mom made a warning face at them.

“My daughter and I will soon be leaving this part of the country,” said Lady Matilda. “And we would very much like to take Jane back to our home, for a short holiday.”

“Oh, yes!” Staffa cried. “Please say you'll come, Jane!”

“I — I don't know —” Jane was bewildered. She had never been away from her home, unless you counted the family camping trips at the seaside. She had never been separated from her family, and the prospect was a little scary. But it was a dazzling offer — to see, with her own eyes, the fabulous lakes, castles and mountains of Lady Matilda's stories.

Lady Matilda smiled her big, rather cold red-and-white smile. “Just for a few weeks, at the beginning of the long summer vacation. We will travel in my car, and I hope we'll be able to buy Jane some new clothes that are actually designed for girls — well, she'll need some, for her new school.”

Mom and Dad looked at each other. Jane knew they wanted her to start at King's Lumpton High with proper girls' clothes, and were worried about finding the money.

“It's really kind of you,” Mom began, “but we couldn't —”

“You would be doing me a great favor, Mrs. Hughes,” Lady Matilda said. “Poor Staffa gets so lonely — don't you, dear?”

“Nothing's any fun when you're on your own.” Staffa said. “Do say yes, Jane — there's so much I'd like to show you!”

“Our country home is a very healthy place,” Lady Matilda went on. “But the communications are primitive. You mustn't worry if Jane can't speak to you on the telephone. She can keep in touch with postcards, which were always good enough in my day. And I promise — I absolutely promise — to treat her like my very own daughter. She will live like a princess, which is nothing less than she deserves.” She leaned forward. The chair cracked alarmingly. “What do you think, Mr. Hughes?”

“Well,” Dad said, “I've no objection — but it's really up to Jane. Would you like to go, darling?”

Jane said, “I'd totally love to.”

Staffa gave a shriek of joy. She gave Jane a hug so hard that it almost hurt, and whispered fiercely in her ear, “You won't be sorry you did this!”

TRAVELS WITH A BOX

They set out on the very first day of the summer vacation. Lady Matilda had told Jane not to bring too much luggage, so she had stuffed just a few belongings into her school backpack — a book, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and a single change of clothes.

The car arrived at the Boy Garden right after breakfast. Lady Matilda leapt out, dressed in a trouser suit of bright-orange velvet and a matching hat like an orange-velvet crash helmet. “The open road beckons!” she cried. “Say your farewells, dear girls!”

The morning was bright and sunny, and Jane was excited. Much as she loved the Boy Garden, she longed to see new sights and have new experiences. “I'll send loads of postcards,” she promised her brothers. “I'll have a lot to tell when I get home!”

“Bring sweets!” shouted Mike and Phil.

Staffa's good-byes took longest. She kissed all the boys — including the oldest, Martin, who had only just gotten back from college. She kissed Mom and Dad, and thanked them for their kindness.

“Oh, do hurry up!” Lady Matilda said crossly. “Kissing them all takes so LONG!”

Staffa gave one last hug and kiss to little Ted. She climbed into the car beside Jane. As they moved away, Jane saw tears on her white cheeks. It was the first time she had ever seen Staffa crying. She took her hand.