Midnight Blue

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Midnight Blue Page 8

by Pauline Fisk


  Bonnie heard laughter at the breakfast table downstairs. Arabella's excited voice rose above the others. Everything, Bonnie thought, would be all right if it wasn't for her. She began to dress. All her thoughts, and all the things that had happened to her, whirled as mad as last night's storm inside her head. She stood before the mirror. It was hard to believe that such a still, quiet face hid so much turmoil.

  Finally Bonnie noticed the necklace. It chafed her neck and she tried to pull it off. The clasp wouldn't undo. She twisted it round and looked at the clutching silver hands. There seemed to be no point where they joined. She twisted it round again. In the light of day she saw sky-blue enamel between the dots of diamond stars, and a lump of smooth, fantastic gold right in the centre of the jewelled flower. She dropped the flower back against her neck, looked at it in the mirror. It reminded her of something. What was it?

  'Bonnie!' Arabella's head poked round the door and Bonnie thrust the necklace underneath her shirt. 'You must come down now. It's nearly time to go.'

  Go? Of course, it was the day of the Bank Holiday Show! Arabella's face was bursting with impatience and excitement. Bonnie buttoned her shirt.

  'All right. I'm ready. I'm just coming.' She followed Arabella downstairs. The kitchen was a mess of pots of jam and pickle and flowers and vegetables in baskets. 'Ah, Bonnie,' Mum said. 'I've left your breakfast on the side. Be very careful not to knock the chocolate cake.'

  She wore a best dress, hat and high-heeled shoes. Bonnie stared and she laughed at her surprise. She was poking flowers into a china vase. 'What do you think?' she said. 'Will I win the flower arranging?' Then, before Bonnie had time to answer, she whisked the flowers away. 'Arabella, will you clean up Florence?' Her voice trailed back through the darkness of the scullery. 'Her fresh frock's by the stove…’

  Arabella wiped Florence’s face, brushed her hair and thrust her into her frock. Mum trekked back and forth to the Land Rover. Bonnie ate her breakfast, then dropped her bowl in the sink and went out to where Mum's careful packing was nearly finished. Over by the barns, Dad was securing a trailer door. Something inside the trailer made its protests heard.

  'That's Bess,' Mum said, looking up. 'She's the best cow we've ever had. She's bound to get a prize. That's a nice necklace you're wearing. Where did you get it?'

  Bonnie looked down. The top buttons of her shirt had popped open. The necklace looked splendid in the sunshine, and she felt like a thief. She flushed. Mum's eyes were full on her. 'I... I found it.’ Bonnie said.

  'Oh?'

  'It was out in the orchard.' Bonnie’s face was bright with embarrassment. She hoped it wasn’t Mum’s, she said, or Arabella’s. Mum looked at the necklace thoughtfully.

  'It's very fine,’ she said. 'It’s definitely not ours, but I'm sure I've seen it before. How strange to find a thing like. Where did you say it was?'

  'Can you reverse the Land Rover?' called Dad. 'I need to hook on.'

  'We'll talk about it later,' Mum said. 'We don’t want to be late.'

  She jumped into the driver's seat, fancy hat and all, and reversed to the trailer, which Dad hooked on. Then she made back for the house and Bonnie was left on her own standing amid the debris blown down by last night’s storm.

  The air was clear but she didn't feel the way she usually did when a storm was over and things were fresh and safe again. The necklace chafed. Bonnie had an awful, sinking, quiet sense of almost doom. She looked down at the white marquees and remembered Jake with his ears drawn back and his stiff body. Then she thought of her dream. Why had she dreamt it now?

  'Out of the way. That's a good girl.'

  Dad moved Bonnie aside and swung himself up into the driver's seat. Mum appeared with Florence and Arabella and suddenly, completely unexpectedly, Bonnie knew where she’d seen the necklace before. At least, she thought she did. 'I won't be a minute,’ she called, and started running back towards the house. 'Hang on. I won't be long.'

  Bonnie headed along the terrace, through the big front door that nobody ever used and into the dark front hall. The sewing-room door was open. She entered and stood in front of the fireplace staring up at the painting. And there it was, Godda's necklace, sparkling down at her. Bonnie fingered the jewels around her neck - the blue enamel, the diamond stars, the flower with the golden heart… What did this all mean? They were the same.

  15

  'I wish she'd hurry up,' Arabella said.

  'Here she comes,' said Mum.

  'Mr Onions went an hour ago,' said Arabella. 'I know nobody goes as early as him, but all the same… '

  'We'll be all right,' said Dad, and opened the door. Arabella moved across and Jake slithered under the seat. Mum put Florence on her lap and Bonnie squeezed in.

  'All right?' said Dad. 'Then off we go ... '

  'I'm sorry I kept you,' Bonnie said.

  They drove along the hill. It was a fine day, so clear now that the storm had gone that you could pick out every tree on the hill opposite. The track plunged down towards Hope Dingle and Arabella shivered excitedly as the showground grew bigger before her eyes. She could see a main ring with bales all round it, and cattle pens and flags. The Land Rover lurched into the Dingle. Dad slowed it right down. It tipped and turned and Dad eased it over the little bridge.

  'You'll have to walk this bit,' he said. 'It's going to be a bit of a job getting up the other side.'

  Once they were out, Dad forced the engine forward again. They climbed up the track behind him. Mum took off her high-heeled shoes. When they came to the top, Dad was waiting for them. Bonnie, Arabella noticed, hung behind. She was pale and quiet. She fiddled with the collar of her shirt.

  'Come on,’ Arabella called. 'We don't want to miss anything.'

  The Land Rover rolled down into the village. It was spread out in front of them, a cluster of rooftops and a spire and the tops of yew trees in the churchyard. Arabella noticed Bonnie's hands clenched together as if something here bothered her. The track turned into a proper, made-up road, with cottages of brick and stone on either side. They passed a farm and a pub. White dotted lines appeared in the middle of the road and they saw a telephone box and a yellow AA sign that said TO THE SHOWGROUND.

  'We're down!' whispered Bonnie, as if she almost hadn’t expected it. Arabella frowned, puzzled, but Bess mooed as if she knew that they were down too, and Jake's head poked out from under the seat.

  'That's right,' said Dad. 'All in one piece. That's not bad going. That track gets worse and worse. We'll have to do something about it one of these days.'

  'Is my hat all right?' said Mum. 'I hate the silly thing, but everyone wears them. After all, it’s the Show.'

  They crossed the main road, passed a garage on the corner with a row of petrol pumps. Dad steered them onto the end of a queue of Land Rovers and trailers all much like their own. At last a steward directed them in through the gates, and Dad drove up behind the large white marquee.

  'We're just in time,’ he said. 'Let's get the stuff out, and I'll go and park.'

  Mum and Arabella began to unload. Jake jumped out and raced round and round. Bonnie stood and stared and Arabella wondered what she was thinking. There were crowds everywhere, boys on motorbikes, teenagers with headphones on, the smell of hotdogs wafting through the air…

  'Come on, Bonnie,' said Dad. 'Put those flowers over there.'

  'Be careful,' Mum said. 'Put them down gently. Arabella can you get those carrots? That's right. Oh, Bonnie, can you grab Florence? She's got the chocolate cake!’

  Dad leapt back into the Land Rover and drove away.

  'Can I leave you with Florence while we take the produce into the judging marquee?' Mum said to Bonnie. 'We won't be long, and we can't take her with us. The way she’s going she'll wreck the place. Can you look after Jake too? They don't take dogs inside the marquees.' She thrust Florence into Bonnie's arms and filled Arabella's with flowers and cake.

  'Come on, come on,' Arabella said, hopping from foot to foot. 'We'll miss the
judging.'

  'No we won't,' laughed Mum. 'We're in good time.'

  She followed Arabella, tucking her arm in hers. 'I want to find the man who sells boots… Remind me, will you? I really think we stand a chance with the flowers this year… Here we are. Come on, Belle… '

  Bonnie held tightly onto Florence. Jake looked up at her. The minutes dragged by and the others didn't come back. Bonnie turned away. The words 'Come on, Belle… ' rang in her head and she thought, 'I don't belong with them. It doesn't matter how hard I try.'

  'Shall I have Florence, then?' a voice behind her said. She turned and Mrs Onions, resplendently attired in best suit and pink net hat, held out her arms. 'You're only young once,' she said. 'You didn't ought to stand round here. Go off with you and enjoy the Show.'

  Her body seemed the perfect shape for holding babies. Bonnie willingly let Florence go. 'Take this,' Mrs Onions said. 'You won't get far without money.' She handed Bonnie a crisp note.

  'Thank you.' Bonnie took the note and Mrs Onions smiled. 'It gets awful noisy,' she said. 'I don't suppose you young ones think so, though. I'll take Florence to the tea tent. It's nice and quiet in there.’

  'You can almost smell the hill on her,' Bonnie thought, as Mrs Onions went away. 'Straw and earth and animals…' Behind the tea tent, she saw the distant silhouette of Edric's Throne against the sky. She turned away from it, from the tea tent, from Florence, Mrs Onions, Mum, Dad, Arabella. From them all. She was off the hill this time, and she wasn’t going back.'

  Bonnie pushed her way through the crowd. There were mums and dads and kids, and gangs of teenagers with candyfloss, and stallholders selling wares. She got onto the nearest ride, the bumper cars. The music screamed and the cars crashed until she'd had her money's worth. Afterwards she bought a hotdog and covered it with mustard. She didn’t know where she was going, or what she would do next, but she started to look for the way out of the showground.

  And that was when the necklace began to sting. Bonnie stopped and undid buttons and rubbed her neck. 'I wish I'd never put the stupid thing on,' she thought, twisting it round and trying to undo it. It stung her more and she pulled it angrily. She didn't care if it was precious any more, or how she'd found it, or if it really had been Godda's. She didn't want Highholly Hill any more, nor did she want the legend of Godda and Edric hanging round her neck.

  Bonnie tried one last time, putting her hand up to her throat, clutching the flower pendant and pulling as hard as she could. For the weirdest moment her hand seemed to stick. A terrible pain jerked through it, up her arm, into her shoulder, into her head itself. It was like an electric shock. She cried out, and 'No!' the pain cried back. 'No. You can't get away from me. There's danger, danger, and I'm warning you. You've got to take notice.'

  Suddenly Bonnie saw everything in a different light. All around her things seemed unpleasant and sinister. Bonnie pushed through the crowds again, through the shrieking voices on every side, through the sea of jostling faces. A tall man with a dark face and the blackest eyes leaned towards her and shouted 'Come and have a go, two goes for a pound.' She turned her back and ran away from him, and that was when she lost Jake. One minute he was there, then she was carried by the crowd until she broke away in front of a rifle range, and he was gone and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Bonnie had never shot at anything before. But in her mind's eye it was Arabella, not the targets, that she saw rowed up on that range — Arabella whom she couldn't get away from, no matter how she tried. It was even Arabella’s fault that Jake had gone. So she paid her money and raised the gun. 'It would be lovely if you weren't there any more,' she said out loud. BANG! BANG! 'Mum would have me instead. She doesn't want two of us.' BANG! BANG! 'Dad could teach me about the farm and I could be their girl.' BANG! BANG! 'No one's ever given me a pet name. You don't know how I felt when she called you Belle.’

  BANG! BANG!

  Bonnie handed back the rifle and stood brushing bright tears out of her eyes. She walked away, not seeing where she went. All she knew was that the necklace had started stinging again and the air was full of something coming, coming… Bonnie turned a corner and found herself in front of a large, striped tent. A fluttering sign announced:

  GRANDMOTHER MARVELL'S MAGIC MIRRORS

  Come and See Yourself as You've Never Seen Yourself Before!

  MIRROR SPECTACULAR!!!

  A woman lifted the loose cloth of the tent door and stepped out into the sunlight. Her hair was dyed. You could see the white bits at the roots, could see beneath the powder and the lipstick and the flashy jet earrings that she was old. Godda's necklace jumped on Bonnie's neck and bit so hard that she cried out. The woman raised her eyes and looked at her.

  It was the look Bonnie remembered from the tickling dream when her grandmother had said she'd never let her go. The look she'd had on that last day when Bonnie had opened the new flat door, and there she'd been on the doorstep with her suitcase in poor Doreen's hand. It was gloating. Triumphant.

  'Well, well, well,' she said. 'And how are you…?’

  It was Grandbag.

  16

  Bonnie should have expected it. There was, after all, another, different Maybelle on Highholly Hill, another Michael and another of herself. Why not Grandbag too? Perhaps she had expected it. She remembered her dream and everything suddenly seemed so pointless - all the running away and the struggling and the pain.

  You couldn't escape things, could you?

  The woman looked past Bonnie, completely ignoring her, and smiled a smile that Bonnie knew and that never changed. 'Magic mirrors, my dear,' she said. 'Real magic that can change your life.'

  Bonnie looked back to see who the woman was speaking to. That was when she saw Arabella. She'd emerged from the crowd, accompanied by Jake, and stopped dead. The woman looked at her with quiet satisfaction, and her eyes said, 'I'll never let you go...'

  'I haven't any money,' Arabella said.

  'A free go, then,’ the woman said. 'You can't miss Grandmother Marvell's Mirror Spectacular. You'll never again see mirrors like these. You'll wonder for the rest of your life what they were like.'

  Arabella stepped forward, taking Bonnie by the arm. 'Come on,’ she hissed. ‘Even if they're not really magic, at least they’re for free. '

  The woman glanced at Bonnie without interest. 'That's right,' she said. 'And your friend can come too if she wants. You can both have a free go.'

  Bonnie felt a drilling pain around her neck. Through it she thought, 'Grandbag doesn't recognize me. She wants Arabella. She came for me. I know she did. But she's found Arabella instead. I'm safe.' And as if it were inevitable - as if she had no choice about it, and this was what she’d always known hate would make her do - she said in an oily, cunning voice quite unlike her own, 'You go ahead, Arabella. I'll take Jake and tie him up.'

  Grandmother Marvell lifted the tent flap, and Arabella stooped beneath her arm and disappeared. At this, Jake suddenly came alive. He made to rush forward but Bonnie caught him by his collar and dragged him back. He lashed at her, but determination made her deft. She grabbed his lead and knotted it tightly to a post leaving him to howl.

  From inside the tent, Arabella's voice called, 'Bonnie, Bonnie, come and look at this!' Jake stopped lashing. He just looked at Bonnie, appealing with his eyes.

  'You don't understand,' Bonnie said. 'You don't know what you're asking. I can't stop now. Stop looking like that. Oh, I hate you, Jake. I do.' She got up and started walking towards the tent.

  'I'm coming,’ she called, and Jake howled again.

  Entering the tent, Bonnie couldn’t help but gasp. A glittering world lay behind its drab canvas exterior. Hot lights twinkled above mirrors, creating an unexpected dappled brightness like sunlight on water. The mirrors lined the walls and reflected each other. Bonnie had the impression of standing in an oriental palace where doorway led into doorway, room into room. Suddenly Arabella appeared in front of her.

  'There you are.' said Bonnie. She
stepped forward - into a mirror against which she banged her nose. Arabella's voice, behind her, shrieked with laughter. A long row of repeating Arabellas laughed too. Bonnie turned and the real Arabella stood with her hand over her mouth and her eyes dancing.

  'Isn't it great? It does look magical, doesn't it? It's all done by the way she's placed the mirrors. Come over here. Come and look at yourself. Why's Jake howling like that?'

  They stood in front of a mirror that made them tall like princesses, with long, long hair. 'He's just being a pain,' Bonnie said. 'He wants to come in here but he knows he can't.'

  'I don't like to hear him cry,' Arabella said. 'I'll go and tell him that we won't be long.'

  'You can't go yet.'

  They both jumped. Grandmother Marvell, tall as a giantess, stood behind them with her arms folded in front of her. They turned, relieved to find that in real life she was cut down to size.

  'My dog's barking,' Arabella said. 'I ought to go and see what's wrong.'

  'But you haven't seen the Special Room,' Grandmother Marvell said. You won't have another chance. I’ll be closing it in a couple of minutes. It’s so special that I only keep it open an hour a day.'

  Arabella hesitated, and Bonnie couldn't stop herself. The words came out of her in that wheedling tone again that wasn’t her own.

  'Jake'll be all right just a minute longer. We don't want to miss the Special Room.'

  'That's right. And it won't take long,' Grandmother Marvell said. She lowered her voice as if she didn't want even Bonnie to hear. 'Only the lucky few get to see my Special Room. Not everyone appreciates the real magic of my show.'

  Arabella blushed, curious and flattered. 'It really won't take long?'

 

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