the maltese angel (41 page)

Read the maltese angel Online

Authors: Yelena Kopylova

BOOK: the maltese angel
6.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

running through the majority of them. They only needed the chance to widen it. And then I also enjoyed my days with the publishers; Mr.

Herbert and Mr. Darrington were gentlemen, and so was Ronald Pearson.

He, too, would have come under the banner of middle-class, upper

middle-class. But being the tail-end of a huge family, he had to earn his living. I enjoyed their company. I don't like fakes. Mama."

"Those you would call fakes, Gerald, are sometimes merely diplomats."

"Oh, no, no. Anyway, my dear, let's start on cook's pudding and leave the future until it happens, eh? What

about it? And by the way, I'm going to take another look at the

woodman's cottage. You know, it could be made habitable again, and we could offer it to someone in return for a few hours of their labour.

"

"It will take a lot to bring it into order."

"Only the materials. McNamara and I could do it between us."

"It was practically overgrown with scrub the last time I was down there."

"Oh, the clearing of that will be the easiest part. And if I remember rightly. Trotter had a bit of a garden down there, grew his own

stuff."

"You couldn't remember Trotter, dear; he left when you were very small."

"Not so small. I must have been about five. Anyway, I can recall what the place looked like, and if we can work another patch down there it'll all help."

She smiled tolerantly at him now, saying, "Given time, I can see you turning all the grounds into a vegetable patch."

"And wouldn't that be good! Just think of the money it would bring in.

You could go up to town, do the shows, get yourself seasonable

rig-outs. "

She answered soberly now, "If there was money to spend, I'd rather put it for help in the house."

And he answered just as soberly now, "Yes. Yes, that would be more sensible. But that's what will happen in the next year or two, you'll see."

He finished his pudding and, rising from the table, asked, "Will you excuse me, dear?" Then went round to her and kissed her cheek before going out.

But she sat on, thinking of the dread of going on living in this

mausoleum of a house if anything should happen to him ..

He was standing on the edge of what had once been a large clearing but which was now padded down with seasons of dank grass, with patches here and there of tall weeds. One such patch was obscuring the small window of the cottage. Then he noticed something odd: a patch of weeds near the door had been pressed to the side. The door, which for some long time, had been hanging half-open on one hinge, was pressed well back.

It wasn't likely, he told himself, that a tramp had taken shelter in there, because the cottage was situated in the middle of the grounds and even now, although the acreage had become shrunken over the years, its situation was a good half mile from the nearest public path.

He had almost reached the cottage itself when he was startled by a combined screeching: a black shape just missed his face, cawing angrily as it went, and a small, screeching figure pelted herself at him before springing back and turning a terrified countenance up to him.

"Well! it was the bird. It ... it jumped at me from the fireplace. I I wasn't doing any harm, I was just looking."

"Yes. Yes," he said soothingly, "I'm sure you weren't doing any harm, you were just looking." He bent down to her now.

"You are Mr. Gibson's granddaughter, aren't you? We have met

before."

She blinked rapidly before saying, "Oh yes, yes. You were at the wall with your mother."

"Yes, that's it; I was at the wall with my mother. But tell me, why are you roaming around here? How did you manage to find this?" He waved his hand towards the cottage.

"I was upset. I mean ... Oh! dear me' she put her hand to her head

-'that bird frightened me."

He looked about him and to the side and said, "There's a fallen tree.

If we move the weeds we can sit down. "

After he had pushed the weeds aside and trampled on them, he pointed, saying, "There you are." And when they were both seated on the lying trunk he said again, "Tell me, how did you manage to get this far? I mean, how did you manage to leave the farm?"

She now turned her face up to his and smiled widely as she said, "It was quite by accident. It was the rabbits, you know. You see, I am not allowed to go out of the gates and I had told Auntie Jessie that I couldn't promise her that I wouldn't go wandering."

"You told her that?"

"Oh yes. Yes. It was no good lying. Well, I mean it was no good telling her that I would do as she asked when I knew I couldn't help wandering. Well, I was at the wall, you know, where I saw you and the lady, your mother. And further along there is a mound and some bushes growing on the top and I saw a family of rabbits, baby ones. They were playing; but when I went near them they scattered. The men shoot the rabbits, you know, because of the crops. I don't like to hear them shooting. Anyway, I pushed between the bushes and the wall to see if I could look in their burrows. They don't have nests, you know, they have burrows."

"Oh." He nodded at her.

"Well, there were lots of holes and they had all disappeared down them.

Then when I nearly tripped over a root of a tree, I noticed it had grown into the bottom of the wall and pushed a stone aside. It was quite a large stone; roots must be very strong, don't you think?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. Then what did you do?"

"Well A look almost of glee passed over the small face now as she said,

" I pulled the stone aside and then another one slipped out from above.

I became afraid then in case the wall should topple down. It didn't, but just in case it did, you know what I did next? "

He shook his head.

She now held out her hands to him, saying, "You see my nails?"

"Yes." He nodded at her.

"They're very dirty, aren't they? Well, you see, I did what our dogs do before they bury a bone, and the rabbits do it and the foxes. I scraped the soil away with the help of a piece of wood. But I really couldn't go very deep. Although I kept away from the big root there were smaller ones crisscrossing. Anyway, I must have managed to dig for about three to four inches and it was enough to make the hole large enough for me to crawl through. I had to lie flat, of course. It was quite an adventure. I did think at one time that the wall might

suddenly drop on me, but it didn't. The stones are usually placed very firm against each other, I understand from Mike. He is the cowman, he helps to mend the walls. But that big root had certainly oozed them out."

"Won't your aunt be looking for you and be worried again?" he said.

"Yes, I suppose so; but she knows I will come back. I promised her only yesterday that if I roamed round the farm I would always come back."

"But you didn't say anything about roaming outside the farm, I suppose."

She stared at him for a moment, as if thinking, then said, "No. No, I didn't."

"I should imagine she will be very worried, perhaps annoyed."

"No doubt. No doubt."

He had the urge to laugh, for she sounded so old-fashioned. How old would she be now? Yes, he remembered she had said before that she was nearly ten. Dear! Dear! and not allowed to go to school. Not

allowed to mix with other children. It was a crime against youth.

He watched her now looking straight ahead, her hands joined tightly between her knees, and this caused her long dress to ride up above her black shoes and white socks. And he was on the point of saying, "Come along; I'll take you back to your rabbit hole," when she turned to him quite suddenly and asked, "What is an unholy trinity?"

A what? "

"An ... unholy ... trinity."

It was a moment or so before he said, "Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to know."

Well yes, of course, that's why she asked. But where had she heard that?

"I realise you want to know," he said, 'but tell me why and where have you heard that? "

She was looking away from him again; it was a moment or two before she said, "There's the village over there." She pointed in front of her, but then let her arm travel to the right before adding, "It's somewhere in that direction, I think. But I wanted to see it. And there is a school. You see, I don't meet many children. In fact, I don't meet any children at all except in books, and so when I got through the hole the other day I didn't come this way, I walked by the wall on your side and I came to a wood. And when I came to the end of it there was a ditch; but the railings on the far side were broken here and there, and so it was easy to step on to the pathway. And I walked up the pathway and I heard children ... children's voices.

And when I got nearer I saw some buildings and from the end one

children were running. They were coming out of a gate in twos and

threes and they were running, not towards me but away. I suppose to their homes. But there were three girls: one was just my size and the others were larger. " She paused here as if thinking, and he remained silent, looking at her, until she went on, " When I went up to them they stared at me. Then one said, "Who are you?" And I said, "I am Janie Gibson. Who are you?" And she laughed at me and giggled, and she looked at the taller girls and now one of them turned to where two ladies were coming out of this building. And when they got to the gate they stood behind the girls and they, too, looked at me. One was, I suppose, young, and the other seemed old. Then one of the girls

turned, reached up to the older woman and whispered something. And what she whispered was my name. I have very good hearing, you know.

"Her name is Janie Gibson," she said; and the older woman stared at me before she said to the girls, "Go along! Get along home." And when they didn't obey her at once she raised her voice to them and then they ran off. Then she said to me, "Go home, dear." Just like that, very quietly, "Go home, dear." And I turned and I had taken some steps when I heard the younger woman saying, "So that's the result of the unholy trinity." And then the older woman said something to her that sounded harsh, but I couldn't hear what it was she said. So, that is why I am asking you, sir, what is an unholy trinity? "

He said, "That ... that wasn't meant for you, it's ... it's just a saying."

"Then why did she say I was the result of it?"

"People say the oddest things. There's a lot of ignorant people in that village."

"But she was a woman, and perhaps she was a teacher;

I think she was. The older woman was, because she sent the girls

home.

Are you telling me the truth when you say you don't know what it means?

"

He drew a deep breath into his chest before he lied, saying, "As far as I can gather it has no meaning, not really. But people make bad

meanings out of simple words." And now he took her hand as he added,

"I would ask you to forget it; and you know, you do realise that if your aunt knew that you had been outside the perimeter of the farm she would be very upset, especially if she knew you had been talking to people from the village, because many of them in that village are not nice people."

She stared at him wide-eyed until he became almost embarrassed. And he was embarrassed when she said, "You are a very kind man." Then she asked, "How old are you?"

He smiled now at her before answering, "Very old. Twenty-nine come thirty."

She nodded at him.

"Yes," she agreed; 'that is very old. Auntie Jessie, too, is old.

She's nearly twenty- seven, I think. "

"Yes' he was laughing now 'age is a dreadful thing. But one day you will be twenty-seven or even twenty-nine come thirty."

"Yes. Yes, I shall." There was a brightness to her voice and she now sprang up from the tree-trunk and, her face on a level with his, she said, "And then I shall be able to go where I wish, to travel the world. I have a globe of the world. It is very big, and one day I

shall go round it." She made a big circle with her finger, ending,

"Right round it."

He again took her hand as he said, "Yes, my dear, I'm sure you will.

Yes, you will, you will travel the world. But now I think you had

better travel to your rabbit hole. Don't you? "

She hunched her shoulders and laughed gently as she answered him

conspiratorially, "Yes, I think so. But ... but may I come again?"

He hesitated; then pulling himself to his full height, which to her made him appear very tall, and gazing over her head, he said in what he imagined to be a stern voice, "I have no say in the matter, miss. I don't know anything about rabbit holes or little girls escaping through farm walls. And if I saw one here again I'm sure I wouldn't recognise her."

She now flapped her hand up at him and actually laughed out aloud. It was a high tinkling sound as might come from a young child, not one with an old head that had been forced on to her shoulders. And then she said, "I like you. I like you a lot, and I shall come again when you can't see me." And at this she tugged at his hand, and he led her through the labyrinth until they came to the wall; and from here she led him to the hole which was hidden by the bushes on the mound. And as he watched her lie flat and crawl through it, he wondered how she was going to explain her soil-dabbed dress as well as her dirty

hands.

Apart from the front door and the kitchen door, there was another

entry to the house: a door from the yard to a back stairway leading up to the attic rooms, but with a door, half-way up, on to the main

landing. The attic rooms had at one time been used for winter

storing;

but the door had been locked for many years now. Janie was very aware of this door for she had more than once tried to open it. But this morning she had a key; at least, she had a bunch of keys, seven in all, most of them rusty.

She had first noticed a very old horse collar hanging in the corner of the harness-room, and on investigation had seen the keys on the nail driven into the wall at the collar's centre. A few days previously she had been passing the front of the house, when her attention was caught by an indistinct figure standing in front of one of the upper

Other books

XXI by Francisco Miguel Espinosa
The Girl I Used to Be by April Henry
Orchard Grove by Vincent Zandri
The Dead Will Tell by Linda Castillo
Married by June by Ellen Hartman
Burning Eddy by Scot Gardner
Rainwater by Sandra Brown