Mennyms in the Wilderness

by Sylvia Waugh

  Vinetta felt a surge of joy when she saw her son in the passenger seat. The car stopped and Soobie jumped down and ran to his mother. She hugged him and hugged him again. Then she looked at his dirty face and his ragged blue striped suit.

  “That’ll never mend, Soobie,” she said. “I’ll have to make you another one. There’s a whole roll of that material back home.”

  Soobie gave a sidelong look at his grandmother before speaking.

  “I don’t think I’ll have another striped suit,” he said. “I would prefer a dark blue tracksuit with white bands round the cuffs. You can get me one at Castledean Market.”

  Vinetta was surprised, but very pleased.

  “I’ll get a light blue one too,” she said, “to change with it.”

  That, however, was going too far!

  “No,” said Soobie. “One dark blue tracksuit. That’s all I need.”

  Albert put the car away. Then they all went into the house. It was ten o’clock. The young ones were in bed. The rest of the family fussed over Soobie. Albert sat in an armchair by the fire and fell asleep.

  “Albert’s asleep,” said Pilbeam.

  “Albert. Albert,” said Tulip. “You should be in bed. Go up now, straightaway. What time would you like to be called in the morning?”

  “Seven o’clock will be soon enough,” said Albert. “I will go to bed now. I am desperately tired. Goodnight, everybody.”

  39

  Holmes and Watson

  BILLY WAS CRYING, but his friend did not scoff him. Joe Dorward might be a schemer, a liar and a bit of a thief, but when it really mattered he was on the side of the angels.

  “I’m scared,” said Billy.

  “I know,” said Joe. “But they’re gone now, whoever they are. We’re safe, Billy.”

  Billy gave him a wild look, the wispy hair really was standing on end.

  “But it was terrifying, Joe. It was really terrifying.” He began to cry again.

  Joe felt sympathetic but uncomfortable.

  “I was there an’ all, y’know,” he said. “It was terrifying. But it’s over. Like I’m telling you – they’re gone.”

  “Whereabouts did they go?” asked Billy, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve.

  “Toward Comus,” said Joe. “That’s where they’ll be goin’. That’s where it came from, remember.”

  Billy was staring down the road and thinking.

  “I talked to it,” he said. “I was in the same room with it. I took it some supper and some breakfast – make-believe like. It was just a rag doll – a dummy. It never give the least sign of bein’ live. It’s been a night ’n a day in our loft. It knows where I live. What if it comes back?”

  Joe thought about that one.

  “It won’t, man. It just wanted to get away. I don’t know what to make of it any more than you do, but it won’t be looking for you, that’s for sure.”

  “I liked it. It had a nice, friendly face,” said Billy, still trying to grasp it all.

  Then Joe suddenly saw everything quite clear.

  “It was computerised!” he said. “Why didn’t I think of that before?”

  Billy looked at him uncertainly.

  “Simple,” he went on. “Words and all. There must be a microchip inside it somewhere.”

  “But computers can’t just say anything, like people do,” said Billy. “When we went to get him, he told us to give over and he said he’d crush our bones.”

  “Recorded message,” said Joe, “to warn people off – like me dad’s car alarm.”

  Then he went on to be positively brilliant.

  “It didn’t come on when we took it from Comus House. It must be activated somehow. That fella in the car must have a remote control. That would even explain how the doll jumped out of the barrow in the first place. The man was searching for it and he must’ve come within radio range just at that moment. Don’t you see, Watson? That man’s a scientist. Goodness knows what he’s up to. This calls for a real investigation.”

  Billy cheered up. The shock was beginning to wear off anyway. Joe’s explanation sounded totally convincing.

  “Yes, Holmes,” he said, joining in the game, “we’ll spy out the land on Saturday and see what is really happening in Comus House.”

  “No,” said Joe. “That’s too long to wait. He’ll know we’ve rumbled him. He’ll be gone by then. He looks a slippery character to me. Tomorrow. We’ll check that place out tomorrow.”

  “I can’t,” said Billy. “Me cousin Stan’s coming tomorrow tea-time. They’ll expect me to be there.”

  “I was thinking of tomorrow morning, Watson,” said Joe, looking sly.

  “Us’ll be at school,” said Billy.

  “We could stop off, you know,” said Joe, introducing his innocent friend to the idea of playing truant. Billy had never missed school without his mother knowing. The school bus took him to school. The school bus brought him home. It was very rare that he missed the bus. If he did, either his dad took him, or his mam took him in later in the morning and apologised for his lateness. It needed a lot of persuasion to get him to realise that he could miss the bus ‘accidentally on purpose’ and not go back to the house and tell his mam. But finally it was agreed. They would both leave home as if for school and they would meet at the ruined cottage. Hardest part would be sneaking their bikes out, but it could be managed.

  “And I’ll bring me dad’s binoculars,” said Joe. “They’re better than the ones you’ve got. If you could bring some biscuits or something that would be a help. It might be a long stint.”

  Then they got up from the rough grass where they had been sitting. The petrol station and the barrow were in full view. Not a soul in sight, fortunately. Billy was still a bit shivery as they went down to retrieve the barrow. Joe looked at his frightened face and understood.

  “I’ll come home with you,” he said.

  “Are you sure? Will your mam not miss you?”

  “She’ll be too busy serving the regulars. It’s not even ten o’clock yet.”

  They reached the farm and put the barrow away.

  “Thanks, Joe,” said Billy.

  “What for?”

  “For coming all the way home with me. I’d have been scared on me own.”

  “Well,” said Joe, proudly conscious of being twelve, “I’m a lot older than you, Billy. When you get older, it’s easier not to be scared. See you tomorrow.”

  Joe and Billy reached Comus House just after ten o’clock on Thursday morning. The weather was cold and crisp. The fears of the night before seemed unreal in the brightness of the day.

  There was a rough stone wall stretching the length of the vegetable garden on the north side of the cart track. It formed a boundary to the Comus grounds. It was very old, probably older than the house, and uneven. Bits of it were five or six feet high. Then it would dip down, saddle-like, to a height of no more than three feet. The boys chose one of the dips as a vantage point. At first they took care not to be seen, but as the house seemed dead they soon gave up all caution. They leant on the wall, took turns with the binoculars, and shared a snack of fig rolls and chocolate ginger snaps.

  “Best I could do,” said Billy.

  “Good enough,” said Joe.

  For over an hour nothing happened in or around the house. The curtains that had been open when they arrived were still open. The curtains that had been closed were still closed. The boys were well wrapped up against the cold. Joe had even thought to bring a flask of tea. It was playing truant and having a picnic and it should have been good fun. But after an hour had passed it became boring.

  “I think they must’ve gone, Holmes,” said Billy. “Skipped in the night.”

  Joe yawned, but said firmly, “These long watches can get very tedious, but it is important not to give up too soon.”

  He handed the binoculars to Billy.

  Just at that moment the front door opened. Wimpey came out with her skipping-rope.

  “There’s someb
ody there,” said Joe urgently. “What can you see, Watson?”

  Billy focussed the binoculars and looked towards the front door. On the path in front of it was a little girl skipping. He could plainly see her mittened hands turning the rope, her bunches of golden curls bobbing up and down. Then, looking carefully at her face, he saw something he could not believe.

  “It’s another one,” he yelled, and Joe slapped one hand over his mouth.

  “Be quiet,” he said in a loud whisper. “She’ll hear you.”

  They ducked down behind the wall.

  “But, Joe,” said Billy, “it’s not a girl, not a real girl. It’s another rag doll.”

  Joe grabbed the binoculars. He couldn’t be totally sure. The girl was in the shadow of the house. But then she skipped along the path in their direction. As she grew closer Joe was able to see that Billy was absolutely right.

  “It must be a research lab,” said Joe. “They must be making them here. I wonder what for? This could be something big, Watson, something really big.”

  “I think we should go home, Joe,” said Billy. “We might get into a lot of trouble.”

  “Go home now?” said Joe. “And miss out on all of this? You must be joking.”

  Joe went on staring through the binoculars.

  The front door opened again. No one else appeared but a voice called, “Wimpey! Wimpey! Come in here this minute.”

  For what felt like eternity, nothing else happened. Billy and Joe took one short break. They cycled down to a village south-west of Comus House, built along a single main street that looped up off the road and then down again. Joe went into a little general dealer’s store and bought two cans of Pepsi. Then they pedalled back to their vantage point.

  “Hope we haven’t missed anything,” said Joe.

  Billy yawned. This was much more tiring than going to school. School!

  “Us’ll have to be home afore four o’clock, Joe, or there’ll be murder on!”

  Joe looked at his watch.

  “It’s only ten past three. We can watch another twenty minutes, surely.”

  Just as they were finally about to leave, their patience was rewarded. A green car came up the cart track. It passed so close that they could see the driver’s face and they recognised their enemy of the night before.

  Joe thumbed his nose at him. Billy stuck his tongue out. Albert did not see these gestures, of course. He was looking towards the house.

  “We’ll have to go now,” said Billy.

  “O.K.” said Joe. “Don’t get in a flap. We’re going. But let’s come back tonight. I mean late tonight, after your mam thinks you’re safe in bed. Bring your sleeping bag and something to eat . . .”

  Albert had done a full day’s work – three morning lectures and an afternoon tutorial. Then he had made a beeline for Comus House. Arrangements would have to be made for bringing the Mennyms home.

  When he arrived, he found everyone bursting to tell him the news. For whilst Billy and Joe had been outside, training the binoculars on the house, the Mennyms had been only too aware of their presence.

  Soobie had spotted them first as he looked from the library window. Beyond the garage, on the wall that made a drunken boundary to the vegetable garden, he saw light reflected off the binoculars. Then he saw movement. He ran off to tell the others that there were strangers outside watching them. It was only after Pilbeam had brought the yellow binoculars from Appleby’s room that they were able to identify the spies outside. Wimpey was the last to know of this new peril, which was why she had gone out so blithely with her skipping-rope.

  Poopie rushed to get his word in first, especially the bit about Wimpey. Albert had barely closed the door behind him before the news was broken. No one even got the chance to say hello.

  “There’s two boys out there watching us through binoculars,” said Poopie, “and Wimpey went out in the path, and they saw her.”

  “They’re the same ones who took me away,” added Soobie.

  “We’ll have to get out of here, Albert,” said Vinetta. “We’ll all have to leave tonight. They might bring a whole gang and break into the house.”

  Tulip was in less of a panic, but she agreed.

  “It would be a shame if anything went wrong now that we are so near success. It’s really just a matter of doing more quickly something we were going to do in any case. I’ve explained it to Magnus. He is getting dressed.”

  Albert looked at her wonderingly. Take all of them back in one night?

  “It’s not a minibus, you know, Tulip,” he said. “It’ll take more than one trip.”

  “That’s why we should set off as soon as people are ready,” she said.

  Albert groaned, but agreed.

  40

  Home

  IT TOOK ALL Thursday evening and into the early hours of Friday morning to move the whole of the Mennym family back to Brocklehurst Grove. Albert conveyed them there in three round trips. Albert, careful, law-abiding Albert, refused to carry more passengers than there were seat belts. And he kept within the speed limits. On each of the three journeys, every available luggage space was filled up with cases, boxes and bags. Each time they arrived at Brocklehurst Grove, Albert’s return to Comus was slowed down by the necessity of unloading.

  On the first trip he took Pilbeam, Miss Quigley and Googles. The baby, in her carrycot, was secured safely in the back seat. Miss Quigley sat beside her, very stiff and very upright. She kept both eyes on the road ahead. Most of the time there was nothing to see but headlights piercing the darkness of winding country roads. It was a relief when they came to the outskirts of Castledean. It was heaven when they reached Brocklehurst Grove.

  “Just leave everything in the drive, Albert,” said Pilbeam. “We’ll manage to take them into the house after you go.”

  By the time Appleby came down, Albert had already driven away. Appleby looked at Pilbeam, unsure of what her sister might say about the scooter escapade. But Pilbeam just shook her head and said briskly, “Well, don’t just stand there. We have work to do.”

  The passengers on the second journey were Vinetta, Poopie and Wimpey. Wimpey slept the whole way, but Poopie was wakeful and miserable. He had grown to love Comus House, especially the yard and the stable. And he had not given up hopes that Andy Black might return.

  “He’ll wonder where I’ve gone,” he said to Vinetta.

  She looked over her shoulder at her unhappy little son and said, “He’ll have found his own family now. They’ve probably been looking for him.”

  When they came to Brocklehurst Grove there was another unloading. Appleby took one look at Vinetta and, in a once-in-a-lifetime demonstration of affection, hugged her mother and said very, very quietly, “I’m sorry, Mum.” Without a word, Vinetta returned the hug.

  Joe and Billy returned to their posts just before midnight. Soobie, waiting in the doorway of the house, looked towards the wall and caught a glimpse of torchlight, no more than a glimpse. As soon as the boys had settled themselves comfortably behind the wall, they put out the torches. But the glimpse was enough to make Soobie suspicious. He felt sure they were being watched again.

  The car drew up in front of the house ready to make the third trip. “That car’s come back,” said Joe. “Ready to work under the cover of darkness.”

  “But us are here watching,” said Billy. “Us’ll see whatever they’re up to.”

  “There’s dirty business going on over there,” said Joe in his detective voice. “It could even be – murder!”

  Billy shivered and hoped that Joe was wrong. It was very hard to go on playing a game when fact and fiction became so mixed up. People were coming out of the house. Harmless-looking people — an elderly woman and an old man with a stick. Not real villains, thought Billy with some relief. It could still be fun. It could still be just a game.

  Tulip sat in the front passenger seat. It was decided that, even in the silence and the darkness of the night, it would be safer if Sir Magnus and Soobie
travelled in the back.

  Soobie was the last to come out of the house. The light behind him turned him into a bulky silhouette. He looked over to the wall where the spies had been all day, and had probably returned to watch again. He thought of Billy with his wizened little face, his warmth and his bravery. It would be like him to sneak away from home and be a watcher in the night. Safety was near enough for Soobie to take a risk. He turned towards the wall and, raising his right arm high in the air, gave a slow, curving wave.

  “It’s the clouty doll,” whispered Billy. “It’s Carlos. He’s waving at us!”

  Joe grabbed him by the hem of his coat to hold him back or he would have run down to the car.

  “Where the devil do you think you’re going?” he asked in as loud a whisper as he dared.

  The two boys crouched down behind the wall. The blackness of the night enveloped them. And in that moment they were two very frightened children who had seen they knew not what.

  “It wasn’t a robot,” whispered Billy, clutching Joe’s arm.

  Joe shivered. He too was suddenly and inexplicably sure that, whatever it was, the blue creature was not a robot. Terror seized him. “Run,” he said. “Don’t talk. Don’t think.”

  They scrambled down the hillside to their bikes, dragging their sleeping bags along the ground behind them. With fumbling speed, they prepared to mount. Then they pedalled frantically uphill towards the safety of home.

  “Ride as fast as you can,” said Joe. “And don’t look back.”

  A chilling breeze began to blow. It was as if the spirit of the place was laughing at them as they had their turn to feel a spasm of terror.

  “The darkest hour is just before the dawn,” said Magnus as he alighted stiffly, helped by Soobie and Albert. The latter gave a groan as he thought how little time was left for sleeping.

  The hall was full of luggage. The house was not its usual tidy self. But how marvellous it was to be home! They all saw Number 5 Brocklehurst Grove as they had never seen it before. Things familiar seemed strange and beautiful.

  “You’ll stay till morning, of course,” said Tulip to Albert as they sat down in the lounge. “I’ll make you a pot of tea. And there are still some real biscuits in the biscuit barrel.”