The Runaways (14 page)

Smiler crouched on the ground as he was told. Not far away he heard the sound of a passing car.

‘What is it, Mr Ringer?' he asked, head between his knees.

‘Land Warden. But he won't see us. Not at this distance. White face and hands is the give-away. Particularly if he happens to use his glasses. Right now we look just like a couple of big mole hills, lad. Leave it to your Uncle Joe.'

The noise of the car died away into the distance. Joe raised his head and winked at Smiler.

‘What would they do if we was caught?' asked Smiler.

Joe grinned. ‘ String us up to the nearest tree, I don't think! No – all you'd get is a good talking-to. Unless your pockets was stuffed with pheasants or hares – or maybe peewees' eggs. But you don't want to worry about them old wardens. Come up here a few times with me and I'll learn you. Fancy, all this good poaching ground just given over to a pack of mostly city-bred soldiers what don't know a bull from a cow!'

Confident under the protection of Joe, Smiler thoroughly enjoyed the morning. Because he knew that Yarra was up here somewhere, he was tempted once or twice to tell Joe about her. But in the end he decided against it. If they should come across Yarra by accident he knew there would be no danger. Joe would know how to deal with the situation.

At mid-day they went back to the van to eat. Joe had loaded aboard cold pork sausages, hard-boiled eggs, a loaf of bread, cheese, ham and pickles, and two bottles of cider. They ate like princes with the wind singing through the grasses, the larks carolling above and little clouds of black gnats hovering above their heads. Smiler ate until he was full, but he was careful with the cider. He knew what it could do to him. And Joe's cider was
extra
strong.

After they had eaten, Joe decided that they had gathered enough eggs. They left them in the van. Joe said, ‘Now I'll show you where me old Daddy was brought up.'

He then proceeded to take Smiler on almost the same line across country as Yarra had taken a few days before. But when they came down into the valley which held the deserted village, they hit it just above the church. Joe sat down on the slope and pointed to the shattered and derelict village.

‘That's Imber village, Johnny. What's left of it. Prettiest village on the whole of the plain it was till the Army folk took it. See the church? My Grand-Mammy's buried there. And my Daddy grew up in a house that ain't standing no longer.'

He sat, telling Smiler all about the place: how the Army, years before, when they had bought the great stretches of the plain for training, had left the people to live there. But when the Second World War came, the people all had to leave so that the village could be used for training American and British troops in the skills of house-to-house fighting. At the present time the same training still went on.

‘See that big place down there across the road? That's Imber Court. That used to be the big house. Not a door, not a pane of glass left in it. Soldiers by day, rats by night. I tell you, when the folk had to leave this place, Johnny, it broke many a heart.'

Joe shook his head and puffed at his pipe. Then, his eyes running up the narrow combe beyond the village and to the sky at the far end of it, he pointed and said, ‘ See them??'

Smiler followed his pointing finger. High in the sky two large, broad-winged birds were circling slowly. Below a smaller, blacker bird was rising towards them. Suddenly the two higher birds dropped together towards the one below. They rolled and dived and swooped close about the smaller bird.

‘What are they?' asked Smiler.

‘Pair of buzzards and the feller below is a carrion crow.

Them is a-fighting. Reckon down below there you'd find a dead rabbit or hare and they're arguing the toss about who's goin' to feed first. You keep your eyes open up here, Johnny, and you'll see lots of things. I'll teach you.'

Smiler said, ‘ It must've been nice living up here.'

‘Well, that's what comes of fightin' and having wars. And people poking their noses into other people's business, and other folks likin' to dress up in uniforms and all that rigmarole.' Joe lay back and laughed. ‘Know somethin', Johnny? A real secret? They took me for the Army a long time back. But they couldn't hold me. I upped and run, and they never caught me. Never. I'm a deserter of long standin' – and that's the way I'm going to be for the rest of me life. And you're the first one I ever told, Johnny.'

‘Oh, I won't tell anyone, Mr Ringer.'

‘Don't suppose it would matter much after all this time if you did, Johnny. And don't keep givin' me that Mr Ringer bit. I'm Joe to me friends.'

After a while they made their way back to the van. But Joe did not drive off right away. He looked at his watch and made Smiler listen with him until they heard the sound of a Land-Rover passing on the road which they had left that morning.

‘Regular as clockwork mostly they is, them Wardens,' said Joe. ‘Time your watch to ' em.'

A few minutes later they were driving back along the road and Joe was promising that he would bring Smiler up to the plain again very soon.

‘We'll take the ferrets and nets up and have a go for the rabbits. Set a few traps for hares maybe – though they ain't much eatin' at this time of year. Oh, I'll show you around this place, me lad, so you'll know it like the back of your hand. Keep your ears and eyes open and not a soul will worry you. Yes, just you leave it to your Uncle Joe.'

Because Joe made him stop and have supper in his cottage. Smiler was late getting back to Ford Cottage.

He cycled back through the gloaming in a very happy state of mind. At the river bridge over the Wylye he stopped and looked at the water. Joe had promised to teach him all about trout fishing – in season and out. ‘No findanglin' about with flies. You want a big trout – then you want a big worm on the hook.' He was going to show him his way around the plain, too. The thought of the plain gave Smiler a nice, warm, excited feeling. It was so big and wild and full of life. Yarra was up there, too. He liked the thought of that. At supper, in a roundabout way, he had brought up the subject of Yarra. What, he had asked Joe, would he do if he met the cheetah, say, on the plain? Joe had said, ‘Just stand your ground, lad. Stand your ground and stare it out. She'd go. Specially with a lad of your size. Now, if you was a little nipper… well, that might be different. But mostly all animals want nothing to do with humans. Give 'em the chance and they're away. You know what? I stared out a bull once. Real ugly he acted, too, for a bit, but I stared him out. Went away with his tail between his legs. It's the human eye, you see. Animals – ' ceptin' domestic ones – can't stand human eyes. Or,' he laughed, draining his glass of cider, ‘– maybe it's just the faces they can't stand.'

As Smiler came down the hill from Sutton Veny towards the river, he passed Lodge Cottage. The lights were showing behind the sitting-room curtains. Pat Bagnall was probably in there watching television. He had been into Woolworth's since he had spoken to her there, but she was not behind the electrical counter. So, he guessed, she must have got herself some new job.

Happy, though tired, Smiler freewheeled down the hill, past Ford Cottage and across the bridge, as he always did, to give it a look over before venturing in. Within a few seconds his happiness had gone.

As he drew level with the courtyard entrance he knew that his shelter had been taken from him. It was still light enough for him to see a car parked in the courtyard. The big five-barred gate was unpadlocked and open. From the kitchen window a light shone out. He rode to the bridge, propped himself on his bike against the parapet and looked at the front of the house. The dining-room window was dark, but there was a light showing through the sitting-room window, and another from the main bedroom. He guessed at once what had happened. Major and Mrs Collingwood were back!

Smiler sat on his cycle and stared at the house. Dismay filled him and he groaned quietly to himself, ‘Oh, Crikey! Oh, Holy, Smoking Crikeys!'

At that moment from the dark sky above a fat drop of rain splashed on to Smiler's hand. He looked up. A quick splatter of heavy drops fell on his face as the first of a series offierce April rainstorms swept through the river valley. In two minutes the rain was lashing down, churning up the surface of the river and sending Smiler racing for shelter – for the only shelter he knew.

He cycled back up the hill, hid his bicycle in the coppice and then hurried back around the rear of the barn. He surveyed the rain-blurred yard for a second or two and then slipped round and into the barn. Standing at the dusty window in the loft he stripped off his anorak and watched the house. For the moment all he could think of was that
they
were back. What was he going to do? WHAT WAS HE GOING TO DO? Then, pulling himself together, he began to give himself a good talking-to. Samuel M., he said, stop trembling and being scared. You've taken a little water aboard, but you aren't sunk yet by a long shot. Just think it all out! Nice and cool! No panic! NO PANIC! JUST THINK!

He sat down on a bale of hay and began to think.

Inside Ford Cottage Major Collingwood was in the sittingroom by himself having his coffee after a late supper. His wife was upstairs doing something in their bedroom. He got up and went to the corner cupboard where the drinks were kept. He had had a long travelling day and he felt like a glass of brandy with his coffee. As he poured himself the brandy, his eye fell on the box of cigars where Smiler had lodged his letter of apology. The sight of the box made him wonder if he would celebrate his homecoming with a cigar. He reached out for the box, touched its lid, and then changed his mind. He did not often smoke cigars, keeping them mostly for his guests. No, a little extra brandy would perhaps be a better celebration. He lifted the bottle and added more brandy to his glass.

Upstairs Mrs Collingwood went into the bathroom to set out fresh towels which she had taken from the airing cupboard. As she drew the curtains she noticed some small brown stains and frowned to herself. They looked like rust marks, she thought. But how could curtains go rusty? She puzzled over it for a moment and then put it out of her mind. Anyway, she had long ago promised to treat herself to a new pair of curtains for the bathroom.

Downstairs Major Collingwood sat contentedly with his brandy and coffee. He was happy because he was home and even happier because his wife was fully recovered. His eye fell on the old green bottle on the bookshelf. It looked just the same as when he had left it – which it should have done because Smiler had conscientiously replaced all the money he had borrowed. When it was full, the Major promised himself, he would take the money and buy a present as a surprise for his wife. It was a generous decision because he had been really saving up to buy himself a new fly-fishing rod.

Hearing the rain pelting down outside he told himself that he really must go out and put the car in the barn garage. But then he felt so comfortable that he decided against it. A little rain wouldn't hurt the car for one night. In fact it would wash it clean.

While Major and Mrs Collingwood were comfortably installed in the cottage, Smiler lay on his hay and did a lot of thinking. His first panic had long gone and he was being very practical. When Smiler wanted to he could really think a problem right through. By the time he fell asleep he knew just exactly what had to be done. It was going to take a little bit of careful handling, but he was sure that he was man enough for the task. He slept. In the hay close to his head, deeply buried, was the alarm clock which he had set for five o'clock. He had to be away in the morning long before there was any chance that the Collingwoods would be awake.

In her den, on the hillside above Imber, Yarra slept with her cubs. All night the rain-storms swept south-west across the plain. Once Yarra woke to find the cubs sucking at her. She nosed at them. Their pelts now were dry and soft and silky with a fine fuzz of hair. Outside she could hear the gurgle and splash of storm water cascading over the lip of the cave entrance to the bare chalk below. Down in the village a marauding old dog fox, hungry enough to dare the weather, turned into the deserted ground floor of Imber Court to see if he could pick up an unwary mouse or rat. In a corner of one of the bare rooms he found half a corned-beef sandwich left there two days before by a soldier. The fox ate it with relish.

The alarm clock woke Smiler. Outside the noise of the night's rain was gone. He got up and set about his plan of evacuation. He gathered all his spare clothes into a bundle and tied it with string so that he could sling it on his back. He put his tin with his money in his anorak pocket. He had saved almost twenty pounds by now. The alarm clock and a few other odds and ends he tucked inside his anorak. Keeping the light of his bicycle lamp low he tidied up the loft. There was nothing he could do about the transistor set, so he left it in full view on a hay bale. Down below he put away the bucket he had used for washing. Then, not without some sadness because he had come to think of it as home, he left the barn.

He got the bicycle and drove down to the stone bridge. He stopped for a moment and looked back at the black bulk of the cottage where Major and Mrs Collingwood were sleeping soundly. Some time, he thought, the Major would find his letter, the transistor set, and miss the bicycle. What would he do then? Report to the police? Or just shrug his shoulders. After all, it wasn't much of a bicycle. Smiler had already had to buy two new tyres for it. Anyway, thought Smiler, there was nothing he could do about it except some day send the Major the price of a replacement bicycle. Yes, that's what he would do. He certainly didn't want to dip into his savings right now to do it. At any moment he might be in real need of money if he had to make a fast get-away to some far place.

He pushed his bicycle up the hill and began to ride slowly to work. He reached Danebury House in good time as he had intended. He knew the habits of the house well now. Mrs Lakey never appeared out of the house before half-past seven.