by Ana Salote
‘Well, you’ve made a short night of a long one,’ said Bram. ‘And to think that Linnet’s yellow was here in Affland all along.’
20 Pearls and Swine
Next day they rejoined Lil and descended to the foothills. From there they could see Crust with its outlying factories and the canal leading to the open land around Duldred.
‘Don’t know what I’m suddenly afeard of,’ said Gritty.
Alas bit his lip. ‘We fought so hard to get out and here we are walking back in. We must go careful. We need a story to account for who we are until we find Molly. Ain’t no one in Affland ever seen a Dresh. The only place you might see such an odd...’
‘Such a person of superior height,’ said Oy.
‘Thank you,’ said Lil.
‘That’s what I meant,’ said Alas. ‘The only place would be a circus. So if anyone asks, that’s what we are: travelling circus folk who got separated from our caravan. We’ll say we’re passing through Crust on our way to Lackland.’
‘Say what you like,’ said Lil. ‘I’ll make no pretence.’
‘You’d better stay out of the way then,’ said Alas. ‘We can’t afford to draw attention.’
‘I hate attention,’ said Lil.
‘Why are we arguing then?’ Alas shook his head.
They set out on the track towards Crust, skirting villages and hiding from field workers with Lil grumbling every time she had to crouch or fold. Soon enough they saw a broken sign which said Mair’s Piggery. Mair might sell them some food and tell them how things stood with Molly.
They passed under the sign and walked into the muddy yard. A maze of sties lay to the left and a field full of turnip tops, peelings, grain and mash was on the right. It was piggy heaven. They reached the middle of the yard when the squealing started. Pigs poured in, filling the entire yard. Inquisitive grunters of all shapes, colours and sizes circled the waifs. A low thatched cottage ran along one side of the yard. A woman layered in sacks and aprons came out carrying a shovel. The squealing died back to scattered grunts. ‘That’s right boys and girls,’ she said, ‘hold ’em there. Hold ’em while I take a look.’
Mair carried the shovel like a weapon. ‘If you’ve come out here looking for pork you can forget it. My pigs are not for sale and they ain’t for slaughter either. Fertiliser’s all you’ll get from me.’
‘We’re hungry but we don’t ask for pork,’ said Alas. ‘We’re just travellers looking to buy some bread.’
‘So you say, so you say,’ said Mair. ‘Well you have the look of pig thieves to me except for the long streak.’ She looked Lil up and down with extra suspicion. ‘I wouldn’t like to say what she is and I don’t care to find out. Take them off our land, boys and girls; take them away.’ A large boar and an even larger sow came out from the sties and crossed the yard. They leaned on the intruders. The waifs were nearly suffocated in pig flesh. Oy fell on his hands and knees in the mud. Piglet faces looked at him between bigger pigs’ legs.
‘I don’t like to be jostled,’ Lil said to the pigs in a strict voice. The pigs stopped jostling and turned their snouts towards her.
‘Don’t you tell my pigs what to do,’ said Mair.
‘I don’t tell them what to do. I state a preference and the pigs show better manners than you by respecting it,’ said Lil.
‘Right, my lady,’ said Mair, ‘I’ll have you off my property and while I’m at it I’ll paddle your scrawny behind with this shovel.’
‘Listen to me.’ Alas intervened with his hands raised. ‘We’re friends of Molly cook. We’re the waifs she helped to escape, and you helped us too. It was your cart that got us away. Remember?’
‘I do remember. My cart was smashed to bits in a storm that day. That was your fault so you ain’t recommending yourselves to me. Anyway, we’re not stupid are we, boys and girls? We know what waifs look like and they don’t look like you. They’re small and skinny and no higher than the long one’s hip.’
‘We did some growin’ while we was away,’ said Alas. ‘This lady is a travelling companion from another land. Her ways are not ours so don’t take offence. We can pay for the bread.’
‘What with?’
‘Fine beads, see.’ Alas showed a handful of Nondul pearls that looked even more beautiful surrounded by mud and swine.
‘Let me through, children,’ said Mair.
The pigs made a path for Mair to approach. Mair held one or two of the pearls up to the light. She smiled and helped herself to the entire handful. ‘You can come in,’ she said.
Lil refused and Mair was glad that she refused. Lil went to stand at the far side of the field, as far away from the gassy, fleshy farm as she could. Mair seated the waifs in her parlour. It was a dim, low-ceilinged, animal-smelling room. There was no relief from pigs. Some with long brown coats resembled dogs, others with longer legs and stiff white hair resembled lambs. A broody hen sat in a cooking pot and other eyes looked down from the rafters.
‘There’s no bread,’ said Mair. ‘I’ve got some root stew on the go and there’s eggs up in the thatch if one of you would like to fetch some. There’s chicks as well; can you hear the cheeping? Last time I went up I fell. I might have died if the boys and girls hadn’t brought me apples and bedded down with me till I was found. Dr Sandy patched me up and Molly stayed and nursed me till I was on my feet again. I’m grateful for that. She’s a good woman. That was the last I saw of her. But I’ll tell you about that while we’re eating.’
Gritty volunteered to fetch the eggs. They could hear her rustling through the thatch as she searched. ‘There’s dozens and dozens,’ she called.
‘Bring ’em down,’ said Mair. ‘The boys and girls will eat what’s over.’
Gritty filled two baskets with eggs.
While the eggs were sizzling Mair told them the latest news from Crust.
The Afflish harvest had failed. For the first time that anyone could remember there was no bread in Crust. The weather had been all over the place. Changes in the storm wall some said. The Porians had got the rain that belonged by rights to the Afflish. There was a lot of bad feeling towards Poria because of it. The Porians had enjoyed their first ever bumper harvest. There was talk of sending boats to Poria to claim some of it back. It was also said that the waifs should be made to work harder as recompense. There was strong feeling against the waifs and against Molly’s plan to cosset them in some sort of school. ‘It will be very hard for judge and jury to go against the will of the people. Molly can’t win unless she can pay off the judge and the entire jury. She’s barely keeping up with paying the lawyer.’
A porket pink was snuffling around Oy. It climbed onto the divan and arranged itself across Oy’s lap.
‘It’s a compliment,’ said Mair. ‘Pigs are good judges of character.’ She handed Oy a plate. ‘Just use her as a table. She won’t mind.’
‘What about Jeopardine?’ said Alas. ‘We heard he was struggling to pay Barracula.’
‘He was but that wife of his has a shrewd business brain. She’s sold a parcel of land and used the money to turn the barns into workshops and to open up the old canal that runs into Duldred. There’s a long way to go but the estate’s making a profit again. The betting’s on Jeopardine to win, but Viniga Rutheday has joined in with a claim of her own and I wouldn’t write her off. She keeps nasty company and she’s not above some very dark tactics if you know what I mean.’ The waifs did not know what she meant so she clutched her throat and gurgled. ‘Bumping offs is what I’m talking about.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Gritty. ‘Molly’s safe though isn’t she?’
‘I’d like to say she is but I don’t know. Viniga is a wicked and vengeful woman.’
Oy was trying to free himself gently from the pig.
‘Are you going somewhere young man?’
‘We should be with Molly,’ said Oy. ‘She’s doing all this for us and we don’t know how big the nick is.’
‘Who’s Nick?’ said Mair.
�
�The nick of time,’ said Oy. ‘We’ve done lots of things in the nick of time and it’s never very big.’
Mair laughed. ‘I don’t believe Viniga’s desperate enough to close any nicks just yet. It will cost her too much. You’ve got time to finish your food before you go running off to the rescue. The pig that rested on Oy turned its face to look at him. Its wavy mouth smiled. ‘And Lillirose hasn’t finished showing you her affection.’
When they had eaten, Mair coaxed Lillirose with shrivelled apples. The pig heaved herself away from Oy who uncrushed himself with relief. ‘Didn’t you enjoy that?’ said Mair.
‘I did like it,’ said Oy. ‘She just put my rib out.’ He hooked his fingers into his side and adjusted his rib.
‘Well, I never saw the like.’ Mair shook her head in wonder and went to the apple barrel again. ‘Come and fill your pockets. We love a shrivelled apple don’t we Lillirose? Much sweeter that way.’
Alas shouted to Lil that they were ready to go. Lil came to the door.
Mair offered her an apple in a fit of open-mindedness. ‘I’m sorry if I was rude to you,’ said Mair. ‘You spoke and the pigs listened. That says something about you.’
‘Animals don’t lie,’ said Lil.
‘No they don’t,’ said Mair. ‘Go on Lillirose, say goodbye to Lil since you’ve got the same name almost.’
Lil’s eyes flashed. She said nothing but looked as though there was much she could say.
‘Tis no shame to share a name with a pig,’ said Mair. ‘I’ve got Mairs a-plenty. There’s Mairicorn and Mairapple, that’s Mairslip over there and Maircarrot.’
‘Lil’s name ain’t Lil,’ said Gritty.
‘I’m sorry, what is it?’ said Mair.
‘She don’t tell that to no one,’ said Gritty.
‘I’ll tell it to the one who knows how to hear it,’ said Lil walking away.
Mair’s conscience got the better of her. The pearls were worth more than a few eggs and roots. She gave the waifs eighty thumbers and a bag of apples.
They left the farm track at Farrow End and cut across country to avoid the Duldred Road. They planned to spend the night in Bram’s old house, to search for the Lellick and to reach Crust by late noon of the following day. Bram had told them to climb through woodland to an old hill fort, then to make their way down through brambles and gorse. By following the stream into the next wood they would come to Bram’s place. Further downstream were the trees bearing a fungus that he supposed was Lellick.
The waifs did as Bram said, spending the night in his treehouse.
Oy couldn’t sleep. He went outside before dawn and waited by a thread of a stream. Its sound was gentle as a cat lapping milk. Lil stood nearby in the semi darkness with her back to a tree. Her eyes were open but she didn’t speak. At sunrise she went to the treehouse, lifted the woven door and woke the others.
‘Go to your friend,’ she said.
Gritty and Alas came out. Oy sat hunched, holding his stomach. Alas bent to look into his face. ‘What’s up, Oy? What are you fearing?’
‘What if the Lellick’s not Lellick?’ said Oy. ‘What if it just looks like Lellick, but it ain’t the real thing? Then what?’
‘I’m sure it will be Lellick,’ said Gritty.
‘You’re not, so why say it?’ said Lil. ‘What he needs is to find out, and quickly.’
‘Well we’re agreed on the last part. Ready, Oy?’ Gritty held out her hand. Oy took it. ‘That’s it. You’re just tired. We’ve come a long way for this.’ Gritty went on chattering, but Oy hardly heard her. There was nothing in his head but a single shade of yellow.
They followed the water downhill to the pool where Linnet had bathed after her escape from the factory. The stream trickled on disappearing under arching ferns.
‘I see something,’ said Gritty.
Ahead, between the trees, were pale discs. Oy stopped and twisted his hands.
‘Walk on, Oy,’ said Lil firmly. ‘It is what it is.’
They walked on. The stream ran wide and shallow like moving glass. They pushed through the bracken and undergrowth. The trees that overhung the stream were grey like bleached cyana. Some were circled by creamy plates of fungus edged with yellow rind.
‘Is this it?’ said Gritty.
Oy had his nose to the fungus. ‘It’s the same but different – weaker. It might work. I don’t know.’
They kept going. The trees got greyer and the fungus paler and then there was no more.
‘I think that might have been it,’ said Alas.
‘Keep on,’ said Lil. ‘There’s a body of water that way.’ She was right. A stand of trees surrounded a pond. On its far side the blueish trees were circled with yellow.
The friends hurried around the pond. It looked as though the trees were laden with wheels of cheese stacked all the way up the trunks. Oy sniffed and smiled. The yellow flesh reflected like sunlight on his face. Above, around and below were masses and masses of Lellick Airyfluss.
21 Reunion with Molly
The waifs made their way towards Crust. They slept in a haystack. Lil wedged herself between the bales. Next day they left Lil to mind their things while they went on to the town.
They arrived in Crust on a busy market day. No one paid them any attention. They were leaner than the Afflish and their clothes were plainer but they did not look like waifs. They ate and drank at street stalls and listened to people talking. The headline on the news stand said, ‘Waif Rights Case enters 40th week’.
They bought a copy of the news sheet and sat on the market steps while Gritty summed and quoted the very long article.
‘The judge has asked the lawyers if they can speed things up. It says: Mr Barracula cited Vent v Bent, a dispute over the ownership of a dog which only ended when the dog died. “Are you saying that the only way this case will be resolved is for all of the participants to die?” said Justice Cracknuckle. “Possibly,” replied Mr Barracula. “A case is like a work of art. Take this bust of Chief Justice Bellow, I am free to regard it from many angles. Is one viewpoint any better than another? Is one angle more just, more true than another?
“Each of us sees the same case but for one thing: different people are paying us. So we are bound to take different views.”’
‘I think we get the idea,’ said Alas. ‘This case is never going to end is it?’
‘It don’t look like it,’ said Gritty. ‘The lawyers are being paid for enjoying themselves. The people are treating it as entertainment. It says here that the public passes are changing hands for ten mariats.’
‘Does it say anything about the waifs?’ said Oy. ‘Where are they while it’s all being decided?’
‘Where’ve you been that you don’t know that?’ said a spotty girl who shared the steps with them. She had a cake in each hand and sugar crystals round her mouth.
‘We’ve been living out Glumaw way,’ said Gritty.
‘The council have taken charge of the waifs,’ said the girl. ‘They’re all at the factory now. Sly Rutheday died. Molly Midden married that doctor.’
‘Dr Sandy?’
‘Yes.’
‘Now Mrs Rutheday has joined in so it’s a three way: her, Jep and Molly Midden are all claiming waif rights.’
‘What happened to Sly?’ Alas asked.
‘Robbers set about him one night. They were never caught but everyone knows it was Larkin and Birkin.’
‘Jeopardine’s upservants?’ said Alas.
‘Not anymore. He stopped paying them so they went back to thieving.’
‘Do you know where Molly lives?’ Oy asked.
‘Friend of yours is she? Lives with the doctor, top of Mint Street. They started in a big house at the bottom but they’re almost out of money with this court case. Now they live in the littlest house right at the top. I see Molly puffing and panting to get up there. She brings her cakes here to sell; that’s how short of cash she is. I wouldn’t buy one myself, like stones they are. There she is – see, next to the
flower girl.’
They looked through the gaps between hanging hares, sausage strings and baskets of live pigeons to a stall which seemed to be selling a heap of stones inelegantly piled in a pyramid. Behind the pebbly cakes was the squashiest and most welcoming of middles. The woman’s face was hidden by the awning above the stall. The waifs didn’t care. They knew that middle and they were drawn towards it. Oy and Gritty came at Molly from either side. Before she had time to see them they rushed her and buried their faces in warmth. Molly lifted her arms in shock. Then, when she knew them, she put a hand on each head and bent over them crying. Molly saw Alas and pulled him in. He let himself be cried on and smothered too.
Molly could not believe how well they looked. ‘What a fine healthy young lady you are Gritty, and you Oy, there’s some colour to you now – though you could afford to fill out a bit more. Alas, what a fine young man you’ve turned into, and all of you, you all look as though you’ve seen something of the world.’
She wanted to know all and they wanted to know all, so Molly left her cakes behind – she only ever sold them as dog chews, she said – and took the waifs home with her. On the way she told them about their friends. There had been no lasting effects on them from the chase and the struggle in the sea. The authorities had taken them away from Duldred and put them back to work in the factory. That was all she knew. Molly wasn’t allowed to see them.
They sat in the tiny parlour of the house in Mint Street. She was very sorry, all she could offer was watered milk till Dr Sandy got back from his rounds. They began their story. Dr Sandy came in halfway through. Molly met him at the door. She was so excited she knocked him backwards with the front of her middle. He leant across to put his arms round her, but she pulled him quickly into the parlour. ‘Look who’s here.’ Dr Sandy shook hands with the waifs and patted them and said he always knew that Porians were good stock. All they needed was fresh air and a good feed.
‘This is what all our waifs will become once we get them fed and rested,’ Molly boasted. ‘We shall parade them through the streets. The Afflish children will seem pasty and puddingy next to ours. We shall picnic at Wibble Head and...’
