Mennyms in the Wilderness

by Sylvia Waugh

  “Billy! Billy!” His mother’s voice rang out in the farmyard. “Where’ve you got to this try? You’ll miss that bus!”

  Billy took one last look at Soobie.

  The black tray with the tin mug and chipped plate was still on the box stool where he had left it the night before. The red tray was on top of an old packing case.

  “I’ll c’llect your dishes later,” said Billy. He went out of the door and locked it behind him. Then he ran helter-skelter down the fire escape, his schoolbag bashing against the railings.

  “There you are!” said his mother. “You spend too much time in that loft. I’ll have to be giving it a sorting. Goodness knows what kind of mess you’ve got up there.”

  She smoothed his hair down with her hands and looked critically at his face. Billy looked back anxiously.

  “There’s no mess, Mam,” he said. “Honest there’s not. You said it could be my place. It’s tidy as anything. Promise you won’t go in. Promise.”

  Molly Maughan looked down at his earnest little face and laughed. For her, it was the most lovable face in the world, but laughing was easier.

  “Won’t have time today anyway,” she said. “So I can safely promise to stay out. But I’ll be up there on Saturday. Don’t say you haven’t been warned!”

  Billy gave a sigh of relief. Saturday was fine with him. The doll would be gone by then.

  On the bus to school he sat next to Jimmy Reed. Remembering the warning look Joe had given him, Billy did not talk about taking meals to the prisoner. It was Jimmy who first mentioned the guy.

  “Got the you-know-what safely locked away?” he asked with a sly look over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening.

  “Yeah,” said Billy. “No problem.”

  Geoff and Joe went to the senior school, so they didn’t meet up at all during the day.

  At tea-time Billy was itching to go back up to the loft, but he stayed resolutely casual in case his mother should suspect anything. Joe was coming over later but by then his mother would be dividing her time between the dishes and the TV. Billy’s dad did not like Joe, but his mother was pleased that her son had a friend to play with in the long winter evenings.

  “That lad’s mother shouldn’t let him roam the countryside,” Jamie Maughan would say.

  “That’s her business,” was Molly’s standard reply. “As long as our Billy’s not roaming the countryside, that’s all we have to worry about.”

  Which was why the loft was made available. It kept Billy safely at home.

  It was seven o’clock before Billy decided to go up to the loft.

  “Joe’s coming over for an hour or so,” he said to his mother. “I’d best be there for him coming.”

  Joe would not be coming till nine o’clock – but that was something Molly was never told. Many’s the time Joe was left hiding in the loft whilst Billy went noisily to bed only to sneak out again later. Joe was a good teacher in guile and Billy was a willing learner.

  Billy deliberately dawdled across the yard and up the fire escape. He was longing to run but running might look suspicious. That was another thing Joe had taught him.

  “I’ve come to c’llect the dishes,” said Billy to Soobie as soon as he had got into the loft and switched the light on. He put the red tray on top of the black one, together with both mugs and both plates.

  “You didn’t eat the toast,” he said. “Waste of good food. Don’t blame me if you’re hungry.”

  He put the trays on the floor and sat himself down on the box stool.

  “You will be transferred to the County Gaol tomorrow,” he said to Soobie, looking earnestly up at the blue face and the desperately passive silver button eyes. “Treason in wartime is punishable by death.”

  Billy had just made up his mind that there would have to be a war on in this game and that Soobie must be Carlos, an enemy agent.

  Then suddenly reality came in like a cold wind. The blue doll was really going to meet his end. He was going to burn on the bonfire on Tidy Hill. Billy looked at him and faltered. Soobie’s face had an expression that was kindly and innocent.

  “You didn’t do it,” said Billy vehemently. “I know you didn’t. You are going to be shot at dawn and you are an innocent man. I will help you to escape. Stay here for now. Remain absolutely silent.”

  Billy took the trays down the fire escape. He left the loft door wide open. If Soobie had wanted to run he could have done so there and then. But he decided to wait. There might be a safer, surer way.

  Billy sneaked into the kitchen with the trays and made sure that his parents were safely in front of the set. They were watching Coronation Street. Billy knew that they would be channel-hopping to find something else after that finished.

  “I’m away to bed now, Mam,” he called.

  “Goodnight. I’ll bring you a cup of chocolate later.”

  “No need. I’m dog tired. I’ll be going straight to sleep.”

  “Joe not come?”

  “No. He mustn’t be bothering.”

  Billy went to his room and arranged his bed to look as if someone were sleeping in it. He left the door slightly ajar. His mother would not come right in. When he was younger she had always tucked him up at night. But not any more! The last time she had come in and kissed him gently on the cheek he had woken up with a start and shouted at her for being soppy. It saddened her, but she understood that he was becoming too grown-up to be babied.

  Feeling safe from discovery, Billy went and fetched the barrow from the corner near the hen house. He was too small to grasp both handles at once, but remembering Geoff’s method he got between the shafts and grasped the middle strut of the barrow itself. He pushed it to the bottom of the fire escape.

  The next job was to get the doll down from the loft. No easy task. Soobie offered as little resistance as he possibly could without rousing suspicion. On the iron rungs of the fire escape he managed, imperceptibly, to cheat a little. Billy felt quite proud of himself when he finally had the doll wedged in the barrow.

  “Now, Carlos,” he said to Soobie, “we must be very quiet. I am taking you to a safe house. You can remain there till the heat is off.”

  And by the heat he meant not only the heat of the bonfire but his mother’s threatened Saturday visit to the loft. Billy figured out that he might really be able to keep Carlos once the weekend was over. All he had to do was to make sure that the others didn’t find him before Friday. After that, he and Joe could play with him. They could make him one of their team. Joe might be mad before the bonfire. It would be necessary to tell him a few lies. But when it was over he would come round. Then he would be glad that Billy had saved the doll.

  Going carefully in the darkness, Billy pushed the barrow through the big double gate and stopped to close it behind him. The only safe place he could think of was a ruined cottage two miles away, just before the junction with the road that led round and down to Comus House. Further up that road was the petrol station, the only one for miles around, and further on again in that direction the road dipped down into a valley before coming to Tidy Hill. Distances much more easily covered on mountain bikes! But for now, Billy had the barrow and was taking it down a gentle slope just as far as the ruins. Only the fragments of two walls were left standing, but they formed a corner and that is where Billy planned to hide his friend.

  “What you doin’ wi’ that!” Joe Dorward shouted.

  Billy had not heard him coming. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “Nothing,” he yelled. “None o’ your business.”

  Joe had been on his way to see Billy. He had expected to find him at home guarding the prisoner. So what was he doing out here struggling with the barrow and the big blue clouty doll?

  “What you doin’?” Joe insisted, grabbing Billy by the arm and threatening to twist it.

  “Leave go,” said Billy. “Give over and I’ll tell you what I’m doin’.”

  “Right. Tell. And make it quick,” said Joe.


  “I’m hidin’ Carlos from me mam. She’s goin’ to clear the loft and if she finds him she’ll want to know where I got ’im from. You know what she’s like.”

  It was a plausible explanation.

  “Now you’ve got the barrow this far,” said Joe, “I suppose we might as well push it the rest o’ the way to Tidy Hill.”

  Billy said, tentatively, “Are you sure you want to put ’im on the bonfire?”

  “Course I’m sure,” said Joe. “What else could you do with ’im?”

  “We could call him Carlos,” said Billy eagerly. “And he could be a double agent working for our side against the enemy. And we could have drop-offs and secret codes and all sorts.”

  Joe was tempted, but only for a moment.

  “We couldn’t do that even if we wanted to,” he said. “Geoff and Jimmy would be livid if we didn’t put it on the bonfire. It’s their guy as well as ours. An’ if you told them about our game they’d laugh themselves silly. Anyhow, it’s a smashing guy. Most guys look nothing when they’re right on top of the bonfire. That one’s big enough to look the real thing.”

  In the darkness, Billy’s lips twitched. It was all he could do to stop himself crying.

  “I was goin’ to dress ’im in me cousin Stan’s old tracksuit. It’s blue with white stripes and it would’ve fit him perfect.”

  “Pack it in,” said Joe. “It’s a bundle of old rags we’re talking about, you know. That’s all.”

  So saying, he lifted one handle of the barrow.

  “Come on,” he said. “Gi’s a hand. You take the other handle and we’ll do a steady trot.”

  “It’s too late to go all the way to Tidy Hill,” said Billy making one last ditch attempt to save the doll.

  “Why, no it’s not,” said Joe. “It’s not even half past eight yet. We can be there and back afore ten.”

  Billy could do no more.

  Soobie suddenly saw how it would be. He could have escaped when the loft door was left open. But he had waited for a better opportunity. If Billy had left him at the cottage he could have been gone in the night and nobody any the wiser. They would have thought that someone had come along and stolen him. Now, it would become more and more difficult to be sure of getting away. His earlier resolution, to burn rather than be found out for what he really was, had had time to weaken. Martyrdom needs a strong and urgent cause. Comus House was far enough away by now, and his very absence would have warned the others of danger.

  The boys were pushing the barrow uphill. They passed the petrol station. Soobie recognised it and remembered clearly the way back to Comus House. Then he made up his mind what he must do.

  Soobie looked from one boy to the other. With the movement of the barrow they did not notice the turning of his head. Darkness hid the gleam in his eye. How to escape needed some seconds of thought. He was lying back in the barrow, facing the two boys. As the hill grew steeper, they bent lower over the shafts they held, so that Soobie saw only the tops of their heads. If he sprang forward suddenly, he would be able to run out between them. He gathered himself for the effort. He leapt. And he ran!

  The boys let go of the barrow and screamed in terror.

  “It’s haunted,” yelled Billy.

  “It’s a devil,” shouted Joe.

  They stared after the retreating figure. Yells turned to silent gasps.

  Then Soobie tripped up and fell.

  “He’s fallen,” said Joe. Devils don’t fall and ghosts don’t fall.

  “It’s a robot,” said Joe. “There must be something inside it making it go. Maybe the jogging of the barrow set it away. Come on, we’ll get it.”

  The barrow was lying on its side. They righted it and went pell mell down the hill towards the robot. Soobie startled them by getting to his feet.

  “Wow!” said Joe. “Some robot that is! We’ve got to catch him now. Mebbe he’s programmed to go back to that house. Hurry!”

  Soobie heard the barrow bumping down behind him. With all the strength he could muster he ran towards the petrol station. Once past that lit-up landmark he would be on home ground. He could dodge and weave and hide out till morning if need be. Those boys had mothers too, just like Vinetta. They would hardly dare stay out the whole night long.

  Then, with a spasm of terror, he realised that they were gaining on him. He had left his run too late! He had nearly reached the long, low boundary wall of the garage forecourt. In seconds the chase would be over. He would be caught before he could find a place to hide.

  38

  Albert’s Marathon

  BY THE TIME the tutorials were over, Albert was exhausted. There had been no supernatural call. His heart was weighed down with sadness. His body was being tested beyond endurance. It was Wednesday tea-time. He had not slept or even lain in a bed since Monday.

  He went home to Calder Park. It was like entering a haven of peace. No students. No Mennyms. And, for now at least, no Kate. Compared to Comus House or even Brocklehurst Grove, this was toy town. Everywhere was tiny – two up, two down and a kitchen-dinette. Everywhere was clean and tidy – thanks to Mrs Briggs. Albert made himself a pot of coffee. He dozed in the chair by the living-flame gas fire for half an hour. Then he pulled himself awake with a jerk. It would have been heaven just to go on sleeping. But duty called. After another cup of coffee, Albert went out to the Range Rover and set off for Comus House. He turned the window down to let in the cold air. He switched on the radio. When this is all over, he said to himself, I will sleep the clock around.

  The clock on the dashboard told him that he would not reach Comus House at the promised time. Still, an hour late was not too bad. Kate had not called him yet. That was the main thing.

  When he reached Comus House, he saw that he was running very low on fuel. So he did not turn into the drive but drove straight on.

  I’d better go up the road to the petrol station, he thought. Safer to fill up in good time, just in case I need to set off in a hurry. Tired though he was he felt compelled to go the extra mile. Or two. Or three.

  It was when he was in sight of the petrol station that he realised fully why he had felt so compelled to go there. He looked ahead and there, running down the road in his direction, he saw Soobie. Behind him, coming out of the darkness, gaining on him, were two boys pushing a large barrow. Albert put on a bit of speed and, coming level with Soobie, he pressed hard on the horn, slowed the car to a walking pace, flung open the door of the passenger seat and hauled his friend in beside him.

  “Close thing,” he said to Soobie as he took a right turn into the garage forecourt.

  Billy and Joe stood stock still for a few seconds and watched open-mouthed as Albert got out of the car and began to fill the tank. The boys were at the low boundary wall. The barrow was beside them, nose down to the ground. Joe was the first to recover. He raced across the forecourt and yelled at Albert, “That’s our guy you’ve got there, mister. Who do you think you are?”

  “I am Frankenstein,” snapped Albert, “and that is my monster. Now scram, the pair of you.”

  Albert gave a rueful, apologetic glance across at Soobie, but the sensitive blue Mennym had not heard.

  Billy came up alongside Joe. He looked expectantly at his older, wiser, braver friend. Joe was nonplussed. It was Billy who spoke first.

  “We don’t believe you, mister. You’re a rotten liar. That’s Carlos and he belongs to us.”

  Albert looked down at Billy’s indignant face. It was hard to take him seriously, especially as he stood there calling Soobie ‘Carlos’.

  “Listen, son,” said Albert. “You could be in serious trouble for all you’ve done. Think yourself lucky I’m not calling the police.”

  At the word ‘police’, Joe began to look wary. One more word from Albert and they would both have run off, but Albert lost the initiative when he turned his back on them and concentrated on the petrol pump. The two boys stood sullenly watching.

  “Let’s go,” said Billy.

  “And le
t him think he’s scared us?” said Joe. “Us’ll go when we’re good and ready. Not afore.”

  Albert finished filling the tank and hurried towards the kiosk to pay the bill. The garage had a very spacious forecourt. It was a good few yards from the pumps to the kiosk. Soobie, sitting in the passenger seat, began to feel worried. The boys eyed Albert’s back thoughtfully and Soobie knew exactly what they were thinking. A quick grab, a fast retreat, find some bushes to hide in . . . They came at the car in a rush.

  “Give over,” yelled Soobie as they reached towards him. “Lay one finger on me and I’ll crush your bones.”

  The boys ran. They didn’t even retrieve the barrow. To see the ‘robot’ run, and to explain that away as some inner mechanism, was one thing. To hear him talk, and utter such threats, was quite another.

  When Albert turned round again, the boys were nowhere in sight. He got back in the car and drove off in the direction of Comus House. His brush with the kidnappers seemed to him something of a joke now, especially when Soobie explained how they had run away. Albert laughed out loud. But Soobie was worried.

  “I don’t think we’ll have heard the last of them,” he said. “When they have got over the shock they’ll start nosing around. They might even tell people about us. Comus House won’t be safe any more.”

  “No one will believe them,” said Albert. “Their parents probably don’t even know that they are out. Besides – Comus House won’t need to be safe much longer. You will all be returning to Brocklehurst Grove.”

  He told Soobie the good news in some detail, but Soobie hardly listened. Only one thing mattered – to go home again to the only place where he felt that he truly belonged.

  When they reached Comus House it was all lit up. Vinetta and Tulip were at the front door, watching for the car. Albert was late.

  “Albert is always late,” said Tulip. “When have you ever known him to be early?”

  “Kate might have called him,” said Vinetta. “He might be bringing Soobie home.”

  And, of course, he was. They spotted the headlamps of the car as it turned up towards the house and they rushed out to meet it.