When Marnie Was There (10 page)

“There – now you look
exactly
right!” she said, standing back to admire her. It was as if she had already seen a picture of the person Anna was to be, and was copying it in every detail. “Now listen to me. Don’t say anything but just do what I tell you. I’ll go in first and warn them. You stay just inside.

“Now,” she said, and they stepped in through the side door. “Wait,” and she ran down the dark passage and flung open the door at the far end. At once there was a sudden blaze of light and colour. Men and women in dark uniforms and shining dresses were moving to and fro. Anna saw the sparkle of jewellery, the gleam of gold braid, light shining on wineglasses, on silver bowls of red and cream roses, and a background of crimson curtains. The passage was suddenly filled with the sound of voices and laughter and music.

She saw Marnie, her white sash flying, running up to a tall man in uniform, who was standing in the centre of a group, with a wineglass in his hand, and pull at the gold braid on his sleeve. He bent down and she whispered something in his ear. For a moment he looked puzzled, then, laughing, he straightened his back and clapped his hands.

“Listen, everybody!” he said. “Marnie tells me we have a visitor. There is a gipsy girl at the door selling sea lavender. Who would like to buy some sea lavender for luck?” He moved towards the door, laughing indulgently, and peered down the passage, but Marnie ran ahead of him and seizing Anna by the hand, pulled her into the room.

The lights were so bright and there were so many people that Anna was quite dazzled. She stood just inside the door, her dark hair hanging in wispy curls over her face, the brown shawl clutched together in one hand and the bunch of sea lavender in the other.

“Come,” said the man kindly, “don’t be frightened. What is your name?”

Anna opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. She seemed to have been struck dumb, and she found that she had even forgotten her own name! She stared at the man, slowly shaking her head from side to side. Other people crowded round and asked her questions. Where had she come from? Who was she? How had she come? But to all of them Anna could only reply by shaking her head from side to side in the same dazed way.

“She looks like a little witch!” exclaimed a young man. “Why don’t you speak, little witch? Who are you? Did you fly in on a broomstick?” They all laughed. A lady in a blue dress leaned over her. Anna saw her long, glittering necklace swinging only a few inches in front of her eyes.

“Poor child,” she said, “she is dumb. Don’t torment her with questions.” And to Anna, gently, in a voice that was ever so slightly mocking, “Don’t mind them. May I have some of your sea lavender?”

Anna nodded gravely, and handed her the bunch.

“Oh, no, that is too much!” The lady threw up her hands in exaggerated dismay, “I only want a spray for luck. And you must be paid. Of course, you must be paid!” She looked round, spreading out her hands appealingly. “Who will pay for my flowers?”

Immediately four or five young men dashed up with silver coins and tried to press them on Anna. But Anna shook her head, refusing to accept them.

“No,
I
will pay,” said the tall man with the gold braid on
his sleeves, and brushing them aside, he took a bunch of crimson roses from one of the silver bowls, and laid them in Anna’s lap. Again Anna shook her head, but the man had already turned away. Anna picked out one rose and laid the rest aside on a table. She tucked the rose in the knot of her shawl. It smelled very sweet.

The lady in the blue dress was separating the sea lavender into small bunches and calling to the others to come and take one each, for luck. She took a sprig for herself and put it in her hair, then she put others in the men’s buttonholes, in the women’s dresses, insisting that everyone should wear them.

Anna watched, unnoticed. The grown-ups seemed to have forgotten her. They were laughing a lot, mocking each other, and now they seemed to be playing some sort of game. Someone threw the remaining sprays high into the air and they ran to catch them. They began tossing them to each other across the room, and Anna saw a sprinkling of grey dust fall from the dry flowers on to the floor.

A big man with pink cheeks and white hair came up to her and offered her a glass of red wine.

“Your health, my little lavender girl!” he said, and bowed low; so low that Anna could see only the top of his pink head with the curly white hair growing round it like a crown.

She took the glass and smiled, and he moved away. She wondered whether she should drink it, and looked around for Marnie, but she had disappeared.

The music struck up again and they started dancing.
Anna saw Marnie again. She was on the far side of the room, waltzing with a tall, fair-haired boy of about sixteen. Anna was surprised to see how well she could dance, although she was so young. In this strange, foreign world even Marnie seemed to have become a stranger.

Someone had put a chair for Anna, and the dancers swept by, the women’s light dresses brushing against her legs. She took a sip of the wine. It tasted strong and sweet. She had never tasted wine before and was not sure if she liked it. She took another sip. The bright dresses swirled past her. The music made her feel light-headed. There was a strange exciting smell on the air – the smell of wine, cigar smoke, and perfume, mingling with the scent of the roses. She took another sip from the glass and began to feel drowsy. The big man with pink cheeks and curly white hair appeared beside her with another glass of wine and held it out to her, saying something. The music drowned his words, but the lady in blue suddenly darted between them and seized the glass from his hand, saying, “No, no. She is only a child. Come and dance with me,” and swept him away again. Anna could hear her laughter as she spun him around, her long necklace flying out behind her, and her blue skirts floating… floating… The bright colours merged into one another, the music rose and fell, and Anna felt herself drifting away into sleep…

“O
UGHT YOU TO
go now, do you think? Will they be missing you?”

Anna had no idea how much later it was that Marnie had come up behind her and was whispering in her ear. She shook herself awake and sat up, rubbing her eyes. The music was fainter now and seemed to be coming from farther away. She saw that the guests had moved through into another room, beyond the crimson curtains. For the moment she and Marnie were alone.

“Ought I? What time is it?”

“I don’t know, but I think the tide’s on the turn. If you come now I’ll take you back in the boat, but we’d better not wait too long. Once the tide’s out you’ll have to walk along the staithe in the slippery mud, it’s better to go now. Come now while no-one’s looking.”

“All right.” Anna rose to her feet and stumbled out of the room, following Marnie along the passage to the side door. Outside it was cool and quiet. There was a sound of water lapping, and a fresh salt smell. Beyond the marsh she could hear the soughing of the sea, and distant waves breaking on the beach.

As they reached the top of the steps they heard a door opening behind them and looked back. The tall, fair-haired boy was standing silhouetted against a strip of light in the doorway, looking this way and that, as if searching for someone. Marnie seized her hand and they ducked down. “Ssh! Don’t let him see you.”

The door closed again. They stepped down into the boat and pushed off silently. Marnie laughed quietly. “He’s a nuisance – always following me about to make sure I don’t get into mischief. I’m glad he didn’t see us.”

“Why? – Don’t you like him?” Anna had thought he looked a nice boy, but if Marnie said not she was ready to agree.

Marnie said impatiently, “Oh, yes, he’s all right, but he always makes it his business to look after me, and sometimes
it’s a bore. Look, here we are. Can you step out here, then I needn’t pull the boat ashore.”

Anna stepped out, holding her shoes in her hand, still clutching the shawl round her neck.

“Goodbye, beggar girl!” said Marnie, laughing.

“Oh, I forgot!” Anna untied the knot of the shawl. Something small and dark dropped into the water. “Oh, my rose!” she cried. But it was too late; already it was beyond her reach, floating away into the darkness.

Marnie laughed at her dismay. “It was only a rose,” she said. “There are plenty more.”

Anna dropped the shawl into the boat. “Goodbye,” she said. “It was lovely – I never even
imagined…”
she stopped suddenly, remembering. “Tomorrow – the tide – it will be so late…”

“Yes, oh bother!” Marnie considered, nodding her head thoughtfully up and down. “Never mind. I’ll see you – somewhere, some time, I can’t promise where or when. But keep looking out for me –
please
—” She turned sharply as a dog began barking loudly from somewhere beyond The Marsh House – “That’ll be Pluto. That means some of them are leaving already. I must go.” She took hold of the oars and repeated, “Keep looking out for me. And remember, you promise not to tell – ever?”

“Oh, yes, I promise!”

Already the boat was moving away. Anna sat down by the edge of the water, listening to the quiet plip-plop of the
oars fading into the distance, until there was only the soft wash of ripples on the shore.

What a wonderful evening it had been! She was sure she would never be able to sleep tonight. It seemed absurd to go back to the cottage and lie tossing and turning on her bed with all those magical sights and sounds still going on in her head. The night air seemed full of them still – the tinkle of the piano, the bursts of laughter, glowing colours and the sparkle of jewels, Marnie’s voice, the flick of her white sash as she ran ahead down the dark passage…

But even as she sat there, dreaming about it, the music faded, the merry grown-ups in their gold-braided uniforms and bright dresses drifted away like ghosts… She laid her head on her knee. A wandering night breeze lifted her hair and cooled her hot cheeks.

“Hello – hello! What have we got here?”

Anna woke with a jump to find three large figures standing over her, talking loudly.

“Well, bless my soul if it ain’t the little-old-girl from up at Peggs’!”

“That’s a strange place for a little lass to be sitting in the middle of the night!”

She jumped to her feet quickly.

“There now, love, it’s only us – Mr and Mrs Beales from up at The Cobbles. Come you back home along of us; we go right by yours. I should think Mrs Pegg’ll be wondering where you’ve got to, won’t she?” A large warm arm, round
and solid as a bolster, went round Anna’s shoulders and she found herself being led up the road between the three of them. “Are you all right, love?” Mrs Beales sounded concerned. “Mercy me, your poor little old feet! Where’s your shoes, then?”

“I’m carrying them, thank you,” said Anna stiffly. “I like walking with bare feet. I’m only hobbling because I’ve been sitting still. Is it – is it very late?”

“Quite late enough, I’m thinking,” said Mrs Beales, adding over Anna’s head to her friend, “I can’t think what Susan Pegg’s dreaming of – at this time of night! My Sharon’s been in bed these last four or five hours. But there, Susan Pegg don’t know a thing about children – never had none of her own, you see.” She bent down to Anna and shouted consolingly, “I’ll tell you what, love, if ever you feels lonely of an evening you could always come up to ours and have a look at telly. Young Sandra-up-at-the-Corner often do, when her mum’s out at committees and such. Would you like that, now?”

Anna thanked her and thought she would hate it, but did not say so.

Mrs Pegg was at the cottage door, putting out the milk bottles. She looked astonished when she saw Anna.

“Lordsakes, I thought you was in bed this long while!” she exclaimed. “And Mary Beales – and Ethel – and Mr Beales! Good evening all. And what’s to do with our Anna for goodness sake?”

“Down by the creek she was, fast asleep, as true as we’re standing here – warn’t she, Ethel? We’d been up to Whist Drive and popped in to Alice on the way back, and come round home by way of the staithe for a breath of air, and there she was as—”