by Liz Trenow
‘What will he do? He can’t swim, can he?’
‘He can sit on the shore and wait for us. Anyway, he’d enjoy paddling,’ I said.
Just at that moment my brother appeared at my side. ‘Paddle?’ he asked, his eyes eager.
Rob kicked the dust with his feet. I was so desperate for an excuse to go to the lake I caved in. ‘Tell you what, I’ll ask Pa to keep an eye on him for a couple of hours.’
‘I come?’
‘Not this time, Jim.’
‘Want come.’
‘I’m going with Robert. We’ll go another day.’
Jimmy grabbed my arm. ‘Come.’
I shook him off, too fiercely. ‘No, Jimmy. I said no. Go away and stop bothering me, for goodness’ sake.’
Mrs D heard me and popped her head round the kitchen door. ‘Is everything all right here?’
‘Can Jimmy stay with you for an hour or so, Mrs D?’ I pleaded. She seemed to size up the situation with a single glance: me looking flushed, Jimmy looking crestfallen, Robert shifting his feet with embarrassment in the doorway.
‘Of course. Come here, laddie. You can help me with the baking.’ Jimmy’s sad little face filled me with guilt, but by the time Rob and I reached the lake, my conscience had disappeared. It was a perfect day and I felt suddenly light and carefree in this beautiful, peaceful place. Even in the furnace of that summer heat, it felt immediately cooler in the shade of the tall willow trees beside that great spread of still, dark water. Willow fluff floated on the air and settled as a haze on the motionless surface of the lake, and the only sound was a hidden coot tick-ticking to warn others of our arrival.
Wormley Hall and most of its gardens were hidden behind the curve of the lake. I could see the boathouse and the swimming platform, but both were deserted. Of the four islands, only Pirate’s Lair was in full sight; it made me smile to imagine Kit as a young boy with a red handkerchief round his head and a make-believe sword between his teeth. But where was he now?
Rob interrupted my reverie. ‘Coming in, Molly?’
‘Aren’t we waiting for the others?’
‘It’s too hot to wait.’
My costume was already under my shorts and T-shirt, so I stripped off and waded in. The water in the shallows was warm, but below the top three inches it became cooler, even cold. Within a few feet of the edge the gravel bottom disappeared, and to save stirring up the stinky mud we both plunged in, gasping slightly at the contrast in temperature.
As we swam, I told Rob about the snake I’d seen on the day of Kit’s birthday.
‘Sure it wasn’t a dragon?’
‘Don’t be silly. Even I know the difference.’
‘How long would you say?’
‘Only a foot or so.’ I trod water to hold my hands in the air, measuring it.
‘It’ll have been a grass snake. And it was probably more frightened than you were.’
‘Then it was pretty frightened.’
‘I’m here to protect you this time,’ he said, laughing and swimming away. When I wasn’t looking, he seemed to disappear. I twisted round in the water, wondering where he’d got to, when I noticed a huge greeny-white shape appearing below me and remembered the fright I’d been given by the submerged log at the birthday party. Then something grabbed my legs. Although I knew it must be Robert, my terrified scream reverberated across the still water. And then, of course, he emerged beside me, spitting water out of his mouth and laughing uproariously.
‘You nearly gave me a heart attack,’ I shouted, trying to slap him, but he dodged away and the slap just splashed him instead, so it soon turned into a splashing match, which he won by grabbing both of my arms.
‘Let me go,’ I spluttered, trying to pull away. ‘I’ll sink.’ I thought we were both treading water but I now understood that, with his greater height, his feet were probably touching the bottom.
‘I’ll save you,’ he laughed, delighted by his own show of strength. ‘I’m a qualified lifeguard, didn’t you know?’ He dragged me closer into his arms and tried to kiss me, but I turned my face away so that he planted it on my cheek. ‘This is nice,’ he whispered.
It wasn’t nice. Not nice at all. Our almost-naked bodies were touching under the water, and I now realised far too late that this was what he’d planned, all along. The other boys wouldn’t be coming. Robert wanted to get fresh with me.
‘Get off!’ I shouted, trying to wriggle out of his arms, but it only made him hold me tighter and I began to panic. ‘Stop, Robert. Please. I mean it.’
He let go suddenly and I sank, swallowing a mouthful of water and coming up coughing.
‘Here, let me help you.’ He held out his arms again, but I turned away and swam as fast as I could to the shore.
‘I’m sorry, Molly. I didn’t mean to frighten you,’ he said, following me out of the water. ‘I thought you . . .’
‘Well, you thought wrong.’
‘Look, I didn’t mean it. It was just a bit of fun.’
‘I’m not that kind of girl. Anyway, where are all the friends you said were coming?’
Rob began to protest.
‘They aren’t coming, are they? You tricked me, didn’t you?’
I grabbed my sandals, clothes and towel and fled away along the woodland path, brushing away tears of anger and confusion. How different it would have been if Kit had been there, instead of Rob.
After a few moments, satisfied now that he wasn’t following me, I stopped to dry off and change back into my clothes. As I sat there, trying to gather my breath and sort out my thoughts, something else caught my attention. It was the unmistakeable gurgle of Eli’s chesty guffaw. He had company, by the sounds of it. I started up the path and, growing closer, began to recognise the sound of the other person’s laughter: it was Jimmy’s. Sure enough, when I came in sight of Eli’s hut they were both there, sitting on the steps with mugs of tea in one hand and biscuits in the other, still chuckling.
‘Jimmy? What on earth are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at home with Mrs D and Pa.’
His little face fell. He’d probably wandered off into the churchyard and down through the woods, without a thought of the worry he’d cause. Now he looked so downcast that I couldn’t go on being angry, so I gave him a hug instead.
‘You seemed to be having a good joke,’ I said. ‘What was that all about?’
Eli chuckled again, tapping the side of his nose with a tobacco-stained forefinger. ‘Thass between you and me, ain’t it, laddie? Can I make you a cuppa, Miss Molly?’
It was tempting. The familiarity of this little porch, the smell of wood-smoke, the chipped enamel cups and ever-present plate of oatmeal biscuits made me feel safe again.
‘Oh no, thank you, Eli. We’d better get back. Everyone will be wondering where this naughty boy has got to.’
Jimmy dawdled and complained most of the way home.
‘Don’t you realise how much Pa and Mrs D will be worrying about you?’ I shouted, annoyed with myself, as much as with Jimmy. ‘You can’t just wander off without telling someone where you are going. Don’t you understand?’
‘Sorry.’
‘What was so important that you had to see Eli this afternoon? You know I would go with you any other time?’
‘Help . . . my friend.’
‘Yes. We all want to help him,’ I barked.
Jimmy stopped on the path, refusing to move, with tears falling down his cheeks. I took his hand.
‘But when you run off, we worry about you.’
‘My special friend.’
All the upsets of the afternoon crowded in, nearly bringing me to tears. I’d shouted at my brother twice and gone alone to the lake with Robert, whom I thought I trusted and regarded as a pal. And the sad truth was that Eli was not simply Jimmy’s special friend. He was his only friend in the village.
When we got back, Pa was closeted with someone in his study. Later I found him sitting on the bench in the garden with a beer bottle in one hand,
cigarette in another, his dog collar loose around his neck. When I sat down beside him, he seemed barely to notice.
The sky was a deepening blue and for some minutes we watched the bats as they swooped above the garden in front of us. They’d frightened me when they’d first arrived that summer, but since Eli told me that each bat could eat several thousand insects every night, I’d decided to welcome them. Wasps, gnats and mosquitoes were new entries in my countryside ‘not good’ column, so bats were my heroes now.
At last Pa looked up. ‘Have a nice swim, love?’
‘Lovely, thank you,’ I lied. ‘The lake was beautiful. And so cooling.’
‘No dragons then?’
I smiled, to humour him. ‘Who were you with when we got back?’
A shadow fell over his face. ‘Mr Blackman, of course.’
‘Any news from the bank?’
‘The money is definitely missing. We’ll have to report it to the diocese.’
‘What happens then?’
‘I’m not entirely sure, my darling. But no doubt they will have to investigate. It’s a lot of money, after all. And after that, who knows?’
‘But where’s it gone?’
He shrugged and took out another cigarette. As he lit it, I noticed his hands trembling.
‘And if they can’t find out?’
‘Could be the end of our village adventure, my darling.’
‘Whatever do you mean, the end?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s Henry’s word against mine, I’m afraid. And he’s got the trust of the committee. Not to mention that it seems the money only started to disappear after we arrived.’
‘They couldn’t think that you . . .?’
‘They might, they might.’ His voice seemed to crack and he took another swig of beer, upending the bottle. ‘Time for another, I think,’ he said, getting to his feet and leaving me sitting in the growing darkness, my thoughts whirling. Whatever would happen if Pa was accused of theft? Could he actually lose his job? Where would we go, how would we live?
We’d been in the village for nine months and my list was growing. It was more evenly balanced now, but some of the negatives were really serious ones:
Good
Not good
Kit
Money (very serious)
Mrs D nice (the best)
Eli and his hut (the
Church choir
Blackness in general)
Summer flowers
Jimmy has no friends
Robins
Having to look after
Eli and his stories – nice to J
Jimmy
The lake, especially The Retreat
Wasps and mosquitoes
Learning to row
Robert thinks I fancy
him; he’s wrong
THE UGLY DRAGON
by Molly Goddard
Chapter 5: About friendship
The next time they went to the lake shore they called and called, and their voices echoed back to them across the water but there was no sign of the crocodile, and Jimmy wondered whether they had said something to offend or frighten her.
At last the still surface seemed to move, and the ripples came closer and closer until the lumpy green back of the crocodile emerged from the surface, and she hauled herself out onto the beach beside them.
‘Where have you been?’ Jimmy asked.
‘You’re not going to kill me, are you?’ The slits in her green eyes grew wider as she looked at him.
‘Don’t be silly. Why should I want to kill you?’
‘You and that boy were talking about killing the crocodile. You didn’t mean me, did you?’
Jimmy realised that she must have overheard them talking with Kit in the boat. ‘It was just make-believe,’ he said. ‘They’re characters from the book I showed you.’
‘Do they want to kill crocodiles?’
It was so hard to explain. ‘Captain Hook is a pirate and a bad man and wants to kill Peter Pan. He also wants to kill the crocodile, because it bit off his hand and he has to wear a hook instead. That’s why he’s called Captain Hook. Fortunately the crocodile has swallowed a clock, so you can tell where he is by the ticking noise. Peter fools the captain by mimicking the sound of the clock. And it all ends happily ever after.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ the crocodile said, laughing. ‘And you say none of this really happened? It’s just a story?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And the crocodile is not evil then?’
‘In some ways it’s quite friendly. To Peter, at least.’
‘Are they friends?’
‘Sort of. Not proper friends, like you and me and Molly. And Kit.’
Her face brightened. ‘We’re all friends?’
‘Of course we are. We talk, we keep each other company. Most important of all, we trust each other,’ Jimmy said.
‘That’s wonderful. Thank you.’ She danced a little jig on her short stubby legs, kicking up a shower of sand and pebbles. ‘Hurray, I’ve got three new friends.’
17
Almost every day Jimmy badgered me to take him to see Eli, but the old man seemed to have gone AWOL. We visited twice that following week, but his hut was locked and deserted.
I worried that he might have given up the fight and walked away – heaven knew where. Pa assured me he’d have heard, had Eli already been moved into a council house. But he was nowhere to be seen in the churchyard or around the village, and no one in the pub had any knowledge of him. I began to imagine him dead or dying in a ditch somewhere.
So it was a great relief when, next time we went down the path, I smelled a whiff of wood-smoke and there Eli was, sitting on the step, puffing on his pipe as though he’d never been away. He hailed us like long-lost friends.
‘Where’ve you been these past few days?’ I asked.
‘Out and about,’ he said vaguely. ‘Got friends down Bures way.’ I didn’t press him any further; perhaps he’d just been enjoying a change of air. He turned to Jimmy, patting him on the head. ‘And how’s life with you, my young friend?’
‘There’s a dragon,’ Jimmy said.
‘A dragon? Well, there’s a thing.’ Eli feigned astonishment, although the glint in his eyes gave it away. ‘You’ve seen it? You lucky fellow. Where? In the lake?’
‘For church.’
‘Great heavens, whatever’s the dragon doing in that holy place?’ Eli turned to me, his grey bushy eyebrows raised. As I explained about the stained-glass window design, he began to chuckle so hard it turned into a coughing fit that took some minutes to calm down. ‘I’ll have to take a look. Give ’em the benefit of my opinion. Not that anyone’ll take a blind bit of notice of what I think.’
He made tea and came back to sit down, relit his pipe and took a long draw, which set off another bout of coughing. The rattle in his lungs seemed to be getting worse.
‘Have you heard any more about the council-house business, Eli?’ I asked, when he’d caught his breath. ‘My father tried to dissuade the committee but it didn’t make any difference, I’m afraid.’
‘Yep, I got a new letter the other day. Says I’ll have to move end of next week. For the sake of my welfare, or some such guff. Over my dead body, I says.’
I was shocked. So little time to stop this horrible threat. ‘What can we do to help?’
He shook his head. ‘You’re a good lassie, but there ain’t nothing’s going to stop that man.’
‘What if we ask other people in the village?’
‘Huh,’ he scoffed. ‘That lot don’t care a jot about old Eli. They’d as soon have me tidied neatly away as lift a finger to help.’
As we walked home, Jimmy asked me what was going to happen to Eli. He didn’t fully grasp all the complications, but he understood enough.
‘Must help him,’ he said.
‘You’re right, Jim. We’ll make a plan, don’t you worry.’
When we reached the churchyard I told him
to go home for tea, and I would be back shortly. Sitting on a gravestone in the shade of the ancient yew trees, I tried to think. The committee supported Henry Blackman, but did they really have all the facts? He was such a clever man, so persuasive, so well informed about the law. I got the impression they were all rather in awe of him, and poor Pa was simply outnumbered. Besides which, with the money business hanging over him, he was clearly afraid.
People were fearful for their jobs, of upsetting their neighbours, or perhaps even that Blackman might find some way of persecuting them too. I remembered how he’d urged the committee to keep the matter confidential and told Eli that if he talked, it would be ‘the worse’ for him.
Blackman’s way of operating was so secretive, and so insidious. Perhaps the legend about the dragon was true: if you disturbed it, evil would spread through the village. Last time it was bombs. This time it was a man they called the Blackness. But how could we expose him for what he was doing, or even gather a group of people to oppose him, when so many were afraid of him?
I was deep in thought when a familiar voice hailed me. ‘Molly Goddard? It might never happen, you know.’
I’d never been happier to see Kit’s broad smile. ‘What do you mean?’ I said, trying to ignore the furious pounding of my heart.
‘You look so serious. What’s up?’
‘Long story.’
He waved a bunch of letters in his hand. ‘Just let me post these for Ma and I’ll come back. Then you can tell me your long story.’
‘What a dutiful son you are,’ I said, when he got back.
‘Doing my best,’ he said, plonking himself down beside me and sweeping back the hair from his face. ‘I’m in the doghouse at the moment.’
‘What’ve you done, Kit?’
He swatted the air with a hand. ‘It’s too boring.’
‘Have you been away?’
‘In London. Bloody hell, it was so hot in town. For once I was actually glad to be back in the country. And it’s good to see you, too. I was going to call in tomorrow anyway.’
