When Marnie Was There (18 page)

“G
OT YOU
!”
THE
voice said again.

Anna struggled feebly then lay still. She wormed her way over on to her back, her ankle still firmly held, and stared up at the big boy bending over her, trying all the while to put on her ordinary face. But it would not work. The face looking down into hers was so merry, so absurd in its attempts to look ferocious, that she smiled in spite of herself.

“So you
are
real,” she said, still half surprised.

The girl with the plaits came round and bent down to look at her. “That’s funny, that’s just what we said about you, that you weren’t real! Let go of her, Andrew. We’ve got her now.”

“Promise you won’t run away?” he demanded.

Anna nodded. “Not yet, anyway.”

Andrew let go and she sat up, rubbing her ankle. “I say, I’m sorry about that,” he leaned forward to examine the red marks left by his fingers. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Anna shook her head. “But you’d led us such a dance we couldn’t have let you go, now could we?”

“Priscilla saw you first,” said the girl with the plaits. “That’s her.” She pointed to the brown-haired girl who was looking on, silent and wide-eyed. “I’m Jane, and that’s Matthew over there, and this is Roly-poly.” She patted the toddler who was busily burying himself in sand.

“His real name’s Roland,” said Matthew, “but we call him Roly-poly for long.”

“And that’s Matthew’s favourite joke,” said Andrew.

“Scilla kept saying she saw you,” said Jane with the plaits, “and we all thought she was imagining you until we saw you ourselves. I don’t believe she thinks you’re quite real even now!”

Andrew pinched Anna’s calf. “But that’s real enough. See, Scilla? – she’s as real and solid as you are. Serves you right for making up stories about imaginary girls.” He turned to Anna again. “By giminy, aren’t you
brown
! Have you been down here long? What’s your name?”

“Anna.”

“Oh.” He sounded almost disappointed, then laughed. “We’ve been making up the most glamorous names for you, Marguerite and Marlene and Madeleine—”

“And Melanie and Marianne and Marietta,” put in Jane.

“And Mary Anne,” said Matthew.

“Mary Anne’s not glamorous,” said Jane.

“But why all beginning with M?”Anna asked curiously.

“Scilla started it,” Jane said. “She was sure it did.”

The girl, Scilla, looked at her sideways, saying nothing.

“She’s got a secret name for you, but she won’t tell anyone what it is,” said Andrew, laughing. Priscilla, who had still not said anything, turned away and began drawing zigzags absentmindedly in the sand with the tip of her big toe. “Will you tell Anna?” Andrew asked her, “now you’ve met her?”

Priscilla shook her hair over her face, not answering.

“Don’t tease her,” Jane said. But already Priscilla was moving away, down towards the beach.

They got up and wandered in the same direction, talking all the time. They told Anna they were lucky, having left school a week before the end of term so they could come down to the new house with their parents. The workmen were still in and their mother was busy all day, trying to get the place in order. That was why they had Roly-poly with them all the time, to keep him out of the way. Their father was coming down at the weekend. Wasn’t Little Overton a super place? Their parents had come down at Easter and seen the new house, but the
children had not seen it until half-term, after it had been bought. Then they had all come down for the day.

Anna knew that the new house they were talking about was The Marsh House. It seemed strange to hear it called “new”. It seemed strange, too, to be walking out in the open again, unafraid of being seen! Now, feeling suddenly free, she ran down the sandy slope on to the wide stretch of beach and began turning cartwheels, one after the other.

The others immediately did the same. Even Roly-poly had a try, but he was too fat. They gave him a wheelbarrow race instead, but he sank in the middle and collapsed, squealing with delight. Jane persuaded him to turn head over heels by himself, and the others began walking on their hands and practising handstands. Only Priscilla stayed down by the water’s edge, dancing along on her own.

Anna paused to watch her. She was dancing along with an odd sideways movement, twisting this way and that, one foot pointing in the sand. Anna moved nearer and saw that she was still drawing with the tip of her big toe, a long, zigzagging line that stretched along the smooth, hard sand. She looked so intent and preoccupied that Anna was curious.

“What is she doing?” she asked Jane, who had come up beside her.

“Who, Scilla?” Jane glanced along the shore. “Oh, playing some secret game of her own, I expect. She’s full of secrets lately – always inventing ridiculous things. That’s why we thought she was imagining
you
!”

She ran to rescue Roly who was staggering down towards the sea. “Here, Roly-poly, time to go home, darling! Come and let’s find Mummy.”

It was time for them to go. They drifted back towards the sandhills to collect their belongings.

“Will you be down tomorrow?” Andrew asked, stowing their shoes and jerseys into a haversack. Anna said she would. “Mind you turn up, then! No skulking in the reeds like a cross-eyed nymph.”

“How dare you? I’m not cross-eyed!” Never had Anna been so happy to be called names!

“No, perhaps not, but you ought to be, after squinting at us through the grass for so long! We began to think
we
were. First we’d see you in one direction, then we’d turn round and see you somewhere else. Scilla was convinced you were a— what did she call her, Jane?”

Matthew shouted,”A bantam!”

“That’s it. – No, not a bantam, half-wit! – That’s a hen. A phantom, that’s what she called you. An eerie phantom! Goodness knows what she’s been reading lately.” He hoisted the haversack on to his shoulders. “Goodbye, then. See you tomorrow.” He set off towards the marsh.

“See lou to-mollow,” said Roly, staggering about under an enormous yawn. Jane bent down and picked him up.

“And the day after,” said Matthew, grinning at Anna and helping to hoist Roly on to his sister’s back.

“Andy after,” said Roly, his eyelids drooping.

Jane looked round. “Where’s Scilla? Is she still on the beach? Tell her we’ve gone on, will you Anna. Roly’s so tired.” Priscilla came running up at that minute. “Oh, there you are, do hurry!” said Jane. “The boys have gone on.”

Anna helped Priscilla find her shoes, already half buried in the fine sand. “What were you doing down there?” she asked, still curious.

“Nothing special – just thinking,” said Priscilla with a shy, secret smile. “You can go and see if you like.”

She ran off after Jane, then turned and waved her hand and continued walking backwards, waving, until they were almost out of sight.

Anna heaved a deep, happy sigh, and looked around. The beach was suddenly quiet. Every one else had gone home, too. She went down to the water’s edge again. But there was nothing to be seen. No pictures drawn in the sand, no writing, not even her own name. Nothing but the marks of Priscilla’s bare feet and that long, broken, zigzagging line. She did not know what she had expected to see, but she was faintly disappointed.

The tide was beginning to come in. It was a soft, hazy evening, and she stood dreamily watching the little ripples running up the sand until they reached the edge of the zigzagging line. One of them ran right through it, breaking it up, so that when the water receded only the shape of one large M was left on the sand.

M for Marnie, she thought, staring at it. But of course –
they had all been Ms. The broken, zigzagging line had been a long row of capital M’s stretching as far as Priscilla had gone. Why hadn’t she seen it before? M for Madeleine, M for Marguerite, M for Melanie and the rest, she thought, smiling as she remembered the long string of glamorous names they had invented for her. No wonder plain “Anna” had seemed a little disappointing!

How strange it was, she thought, as she plodded home across the marsh, the way things changed without your even noticing it. Marnie had been real and they had not. Now they were real and Marnie was not. Or was it she who had changed?

A
NNA COULD HARDLY
remember Marnie now. Only sometimes at night, when the moon shone in at the low window of her room, and she was lying awake, she would remember her in flashes, like pictures – Marnie running in the sand dunes, Marnie in the boat at dusk, and Marnie crying and crying in the window on that last terrible morning. Then she would cry a little herself, and think, Oh, I’m so glad I forgave her! Even if she wasn’t real, I’m so glad! And she would fall asleep comforted.

But during the day Marnie was no more than a ghost of a memory – and soon she ceased to be even that.

There was no doubt about the Lindsays being real. They were so lively, and there were so many of them. Priscilla was the one Anna found most difficult to get to know. She had a way of wandering off alone, even in the middle of a game, as if she had something important to think about. And yet, when she was with the others, she would sit gazing at Anna as if she would like nothing more than to be friends with her. It was almost as if she were waiting for something, some sign from Anna, before she could treat her in the same casual, friendly way as the others did.

One afternoon, a few days after she had first met them, Anna was helping Roly-poly sail his little boat in a shallow pool. They had been playing cricket on the beach. Now the game was over, and Andrew and Matthew had gone off shrimping. Priscilla had gone farther down the beach by herself, and now Anna saw that she was kneeling on the sand, apparently arranging something in front of her with great care.

Every now and again Anna saw her pick up something from beside her and add it to whatever lay in front of her, then she would sit back on her heels and look at it consideringly, with her head on one side. What could she be doing? Anna would have liked to wander down and find out, but she could not leave Roly alone. Jane was up in the sandhills, collecting their things together and Anna had promised to look after him until she came back. She stood
up, wondering whether she could take him by surprise and pick him up and run with him, before he had time to protest. And at that minute Jane came running back.

“Thanks awfully for looking after him, Anna. You are a dear. I’d better take him home now.” She glanced around the beach. “Where are they all?”

“The boys are shrimping down by the creek.”

“Oh, then we’ll give them a shout as we go by.”

“Shall I go and tell Scilla?”

“No, no need. I’ll leave a note with our things. I say, do come back with us! Come and have tea. Mummy won’t mind. She likes us to bring people.”

Anna hesitated, but Jane said, “Oh, no, it won’t be a polite tea – just buns and things. Do come!”

“I think I’d like to—”Anna lingered a moment, glancing towards Priscilla.

“Oh, don’t mind her,” said Jane, “she hates being interrupted. She’ll come when she’s ready. We’ll leave a note.” She glanced at Anna quickly. “She isn’t unfriendly or anything. Don’t think that. It’s just that she likes mooning about by herself.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t think she was.”

They went up to the sandhills, left the note, and walked back together with Roly-poly between them, shouting to the boys as they passed them in the distance.

It seemed strange to Anna to be going along the footpath at the top of the bank, and in at the side door of
the old house. But once she was inside it seemed like a new house altogether. The passage was filled with Roly’s pushchair and tricycle, and there were bicycles leaning up against the wall. In the hall there were crates of books, half unpacked, and various pieces of furniture piled up, one on top of the other.

“You see, we’re still not properly unpacked,” said Jane. She ran to find her mother.

Mrs Lindsay was like Jane, only plumper, and she had Andrew’s humorous grey eyes. She said hello to Anna as if she knew her already and was glad to see her. Yes, of course Anna could stay to tea. “But you mustn’t mind the muddle,” she said. “We’re still waiting for the men to finish the upstairs rooms. Matt had to sleep in the hall last night.”