by Katie Flynn
‘Have you done?’ she asked hopefully. ‘If so you might walk with me down to the village to collect the kids from Mrs Ryder’s. I promised Connie to give her a hand because Auntie Bess says they can come to the harvest tea and poor dear Connie feels she can’t bring them up on her own.’ She tried to make her voice sound teasing and friendly but realised she had failed as Johnny cast her a reproachful look.
‘Nasty, nasty!’ he exclaimed. ‘Why don’t you like Connie? Surely you’re not still angry with her for pinching your darning?’
Eve turned to face him, trying to look bewildered. ‘Why do you say that? I’m doing my best to get along with Connie, but it isn’t easy. Anyway, are you coming?’
Johnny shrugged and lifted his laden bucket of potatoes. ‘No, I think I’ll take these spuds up to Drake Farm and knock the worst of the dirt off them in the scullery,’ he said. ‘You go and fetch your brother and I’ll see you at the harvest tea.’
Eve sighed, but set off for the rectory willingly enough, and later, when the harvest tea had been eaten and Uncle Reg and the farmhands were taking up their stations round the edge of the field, she was glad she had done so, for Connie, clearly trying to repay her for her help with the little ones, offered to take Chrissie back to the farmhouse before the shooting began. Eve accepted both the olive branch and the suggestion gladly.
‘Thanks ever so much, Connie,’ she said with real gratitude. ‘I hardly ever get a chance these days to have a bit of time to myself, so that would be lovely.’
Connie looked gratified, and for the first time it occurred to Eve that the other girl might be as glad to end their feud, if you could call it that, as she would be herself. She cast her mind back to the day when Connie had first put in an appearance and realised, with a stab of guilt, that despite telling herself she would try to be friends she had actually resented the other girl just for not being Mabel, so now she smiled at her and promised to be back no later than ten o’clock.
‘Not that I’ll be that late, I don’t suppose,’ she added. ‘But if you really don’t mind keeping an eye on Chrissie, Connie, I’d love a chance to wander around the woods.’ She turned to Johnny. ‘Want a moonlight walk later? We could visit—’ She shut up abruptly as Johnny’s elbow caught her a severe blow in the ribs. Hastily she changed what she had been about to say to something innocuous and was pleased when Johnny took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
When Chrissie was told that Connie was to be his companion on the walk back to the farm he began to grizzle, but Connie put a stop to his complaints by offering him a toffee from the tin which the Favershams had given her. Each child had been presented with a similar tin, of course, but Chrissie, who had eaten his own toffees long since, gave a delighted crow and trotted off happily, chattering away to Connie as though they had always been the best of friends.
Johnny and Eve grinned at each other. ‘There’s diplomacy for you,’ Johnny said. ‘Who’d have thought it? But at least we’ll get a chance to take a walk without Chrissie demanding an explanation for every word you speak.’
‘Oh, he’s not that bad,’ Eve said tolerantly. ‘As brothers go, he could be a lot worse. Indeed, my mother wants to take him into Plymouth the next time Daddy’s home so that he can see all the ships. She wouldn’t have done that a few months ago.’
‘He’ll like that …’ Johnny began, but Eve, filled with a fresh determination to do Connie justice, interrupted him.
‘Johnny, I’ve never asked – have you not told Connie about the badgers’ sett, or the foxes’ earth … stuff like that? I’m sure – oh, listen! They’re starting to shoot. Oh, the poor bunnies – they’re terrified. And look – there are rats, and mice – or are they voles? Oh, Johnny, it’s horrible, isn’t it?’
Johnny sighed. ‘Yes, it’s horrid to watch,’ he said, ‘but just think how grateful Mrs Faversham will be when she sees all that fresh rabbit meat. It must be awfully hard feeding us all every day, what with rationing and so on. And rats eat anything they can get their teeth into, which makes things difficult for Mr Faversham too, so really the men are only doing what has to be done, however sweet the bunnies might look when you see them in the meadows.’
Eve saw the logic of this, of course, but she still hated seeing the rabbits leap into the air as the shot killed them, and later, following this train of thought, she suddenly said, ‘Do you remember what I was saying before, about telling Connie about the badgers’ sett? Don’t you think we should?’
They were walking down the lane in the direction of the stream, and already they could hear the water gurgling under the little bridge. For a moment, Johnny didn’t answer.
‘I haven’t made up my mind,’ he said at last. ‘I like Connie, of course I do, and I’m sure she wouldn’t give away secrets on purpose, but I’ve been afraid she might do so by accident. And you know how the farmers are always going on about the threat badgers pose to their milking herds. Connie might not realise that if she told anyone about the sett, accidentally or on purpose, they might consider it their duty to destroy it.’ He sighed. ‘Sometimes I just don’t understand what makes farmers tick, but whatever it is it’s not worth running that risk. But you know best, Eve. You must have got to know her pretty well, sharing your bedroom and taking it in turns to look after Chris. Is she to be trusted, do you think?’
The last rays of the sun were sinking over the distant moors, and Eve stood for a moment watching the deepening green of the leaves and wondering how to reply. She had tried once or twice to alert Johnny to Connie’s habit of slithering out of any unpleasant task, but that did not mean the other girl was untrustworthy. Eve looked around her. Wild roses grew in the hedges, tall foxgloves added their white and purple beauty to the scene, and on the far side of the hedge they could hear the murmurs of the harvesters as they cleared up after the day’s work. She turned her head to glance at Johnny and realised she still had not answered his question.
‘I don’t think she’d give away a secret,’ she said slowly. ‘Not on purpose, at any rate. Why, even Chrissie has learned to keep his mouth shut. He told the children at the village school about some birds’ nests he’d found and heard later that the boys took the eggs to make decorations for their mothers’ cottages. He cried at the thought of the sad blackbirds, thrushes and chaffinches when they found their nests empty, and vowed he’d never tell anyone about a nest again.’
‘Don’t they know nothin’, those boys?’ Chrissie had said tearfully. ‘I remember you tellin’ me, Eve, that if you take birds’ eggs you must always leave one or two in the nest. Then the mummy bird will sometimes lay more and still be able to bring up a brood.’
When Johnny gave her hand a reassuring squeeze Eve was glad she had given Connie a clean bill of health, so to speak. He was beginning to say that he would show Connie the sett at the very next opportunity when an unexpected noise made them both jump.
‘What was that?’ Eve asked uneasily. ‘It sounded like an animal in pain, but I expect it was just one of the harvesters mucking about.’ She would have walked on, but Johnny stopped her by grabbing her arm.
‘Hang on,’ he said tersely. ‘You’re right: something’s hurt. That cry came from quite near … ah, I see it. It’s a young rabbit. Oh God, oh God, oh God!’
As he spoke he plunged into the ditch, and in a moment he came out bearing a young rabbit streaming blood, with something metallic attached to its leg.
‘Johnny?’ Eve said timidly. ‘Is it badly hurt? Oh, the poor creature. Can you get that thing off?’
Johnny had knelt on the edge of the ditch and when he looked up at her she saw that his eyes blazed with fury. ‘Hold the rabbit!’ he ordered. ‘I’m going to get the trap off. Can you wedge a bit of really thick branch between the teeth if I pull them apart? Wait till I show Uncle Reg. I asked him once and he swore that he never let anyone use traps on his land, so we’ll see what he says about this.’
Between them they managed to get the rabbit’s leg out of the metal jaws. Jo
hnny tucked the trap under his right arm and cradled the rabbit with infinite gentleness in his left as they started back to the harvest field to find Uncle Reg. It was not long before they caught sight of him, with Mr Smith and Mr Trevalyn, heading homewards.
The rabbit lay still and quivering in Johnny’s arm and the men did not at first realise that it was still alive.
‘Hey, young Johnny, that’ll make half a dozen rabbits for the pot,’ Mr Smith said jovially, indicating the limp bodies slung over his own shoulder. He chuckled. ‘Though I must say, that ’un you got could have done with another month’s fattening before bein’ eaten. I were just tellin’ the master here …’
He was interrupted. ‘Uncle Reg, you swore to me you never had traps on your land, so who set this?’ Johnny thrust the cruel metal object under the farmer’s nose. ‘I know you wouldn’t do anythin’ so wicked, but somebody did, and I want your given word that you’ll find out who and see that he’s punished.’
The farmer took the trap from Johnny, wincing as the bright metal caught the dying rays of the sun.
‘I dunno who’d dare to set a trap on my land, knowin’ how I feel,’ he said. He gestured to Johnny to put the rabbit down, and cocked his shotgun. ‘That leg won’t ever bear weight again, so I’ll put it out of its misery. I’m sorry that you should’ve been distressed, lad. I’ll destroy this trap and speak firm, but I doubt I’ll ever find out who set it.’ He turned angrily on Mr Smith and Mr Trevalyn. ‘Do you realise what might have happened if Johnny had found it with his foot? Or young Chrissie had walked into it? Someone would have been up in court, war or no war.’ He turned back to Johnny, ‘Lay him on the path, lad.’
Eve prepared to close her eyes, shuddering at the sight of the rabbit’s mangled limb, but Johnny was shaking his head. ‘No, Uncle Reg, this is one rabbit you’re not going to get for the pot,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll look after him whilst the wound heals and set him free when he’s fit to be released. And I shan’t let him go where there’s any danger of his being shot …’
‘It will never survive,’ Uncle Reg said gently. ‘When I said I’d put it out of its misery I meant every word, so if you lay it down …’
Accepting the inevitable, Eve leaned forward to stroke a caressing hand between the big drooping ears. Then she faced Uncle Reg.
‘I think it’s dead already,’ she said, her voice trembling.
Tears sparkling on his cheeks, Johnny laid the rabbit down on the verge, nodding sadly as the creature’s head lolled in death.
‘Traps like that are illegal, aren’t they, Uncle Reg? I think we should tell everyone where we found it and what it did …’
‘… or what it could have done,’ Uncle Reg said grimly. ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll put the word around that we’ve a wrong ’un somewhere in the neighbourhood. That’s a punishable offence, setting a trap like that one. If we ever find out who did it we’ll set the law on him all right.’ He put a heavy hand on Johnny’s shoulder, then bent to pick up the small corpse before moving off again, walking slowly, his eyes scanning every inch of hedge, ditch and verge as he went.
Behind him the farmhands were having what to them was a quiet conversation, but Eve caught the gist of it and felt the hairs rise on the nape of her neck.
‘I reckon ’twere meant for that plaguey badger,’ Mr Smith said, but out of the corner of her eye Eve saw Mr Trevalyn shaking his head.
‘Too small for a badger,’ he opined. ‘No, no, I reckon someone was trappin’ for the pot and when they hear what happened they’ll be up out of here and off to try elsewhere.’
Mr Smith was opening his mouth to argue the point when the farmer turned and wagged his finger. ‘That’s enough about killing,’ he said. ‘’Tis bad luck to go after badgers save to drive them off your own bit of land. I’ve heard there’s one of the beasts with a sett and young ’uns somewhere in the woodland but so far as I can see they’ve done our herd no harm. It might not be true anyway; I’ve not actually seen a badger myself for at least two years.’
This could have been the moment to test Connie’s trustworthiness, Eve thought, but of course Connie and Chrissie were safely tucked up in the farmhouse by now, and Connie did not yet know about the sett in any case. She sighed. She had been looking forward to a moonlight walk with Johnny – how romantic that sounded – but now it looked as though they would have to go their respective ways before the moon was up.
When they reached Drake’s Farm she jerked Johnny’s elbow and whispered as much, but he raised his brows.
‘Why should we go in?’ he demanded. ‘You promised Connie that you’d be back by ten; it’s a long way from that yet. I wouldn’t suggest the woodland, just in case whoever set that trap is skulking in the beeches. Since traps like that are illegal he might be willing to commit any sort of crime in order not to be caught. How about going back to the stream? Have you ever walked up towards the source? The further up you go the wilder it gets, and we’ve had enough rain this week to mean it will be running quite fast. Or what do you say to nipping into the house and seeing if Chrissie’s fallen asleep yet? If he has, and I’d put money on it, we could collect Connie and we can all go. If we’re lucky we might see all sorts of wildlife. It’s beautiful even by moonlight; you and Connie will love it, honest to God you will. There are water voles and … oh, all sorts, and of course once you get out of the trees you can see someone coming a mile off, so we’d be in no danger.’
‘I don’t think we’d better fetch Connie, though,’ Eve pointed out. ‘Chrissie may be asleep, he probably is, but Lily won’t have gone to bed yet and if he wakes up and finds himself alone there’ll be all hell to pay. Auntie Bess lets him have a night light floating in a saucer of water, but there are nights when the shadows thrown by the candle frighten him almost more than the dark, which is why I usually have to be in the house in case he cries.’ By now the little party was crossing the farmyard and Eve stole a glance at Johnny’s face. ‘That’s why I was looking forward to a moonlight walk. It’s something that hasn’t previously come my way. But look, if you’d rather take Connie than me …’
Eve was astonished at herself for making the suggestion. But as it happened Johnny shook his head firmly and seized her elbow, steering her away from the farmhouse and towards the open countryside. Eve glanced back over her shoulder at the farm. It reminded her of a crouching animal with its thatch pulled down over the bedroom windows and the glass in those windows reflecting the last rays of the dying sun. She waited for Johnny to remark on the beauty of the building with its whitewashed cob walls, the flowers in the beds on either side of the back door and the general air that it had grown where it was rather than been built. But this apparently had not occurred to Johnny. When they emerged on to the lane he raised his brows.
‘Left or right?’ he asked prosaically. ‘We can’t go as far as the source of the stream and get home before dawn tomorrow, so shall we simply stroll along until we get to the deep pool? One of the Spindlebush farmhands who came home on leave told me he’d seen an otter there once, but I don’t know whether to believe him. Come to think of it, we might find out, because otters lie up during the day and go about their business at night.’
Eve agreed that this was a good plan. It had occurred to her that this was the perfect moment to try to find out a little more about Johnny’s past, for while she told herself that now they knew each other so well he would not resent being questioned, she had always hesitated to put that theory to the test. She glanced sideways at Johnny. He had never mentioned parents, or any other relatives for that matter, but then she had never asked. It was simply, she thought, that they had both left their pre-war lives behind and had no reason to discuss their past. Well, that was about to change.
‘Johnny, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what do your mum and dad do?’ she said. ‘You know my father’s in the Navy and Mummy’s joined up too: she was an awfully good secretary when Daddy met her and she’s doing the same sort of thing now. What about your
s?’
Johnny laughed and skirted a puddle, grabbing Eve’s hand and steering her around it as well. ‘I wondered when you’d ask,’ he said, and Eve could see his teeth gleaming in the light of the rising moon as he spoke. ‘My dad’s in the army – his unit was posted to Burma, or one of those outlandish places – and my mum firewatches or mans the WI wagons. She can drive, got her licence and everything, and she taught my two older brothers, who are both drivers in the army now.’ He stopped walking and turned his head to look down at her, and she read curiosity in his glance. ‘I gathered from what you said that your parents are stationed in Plymouth, which isn’t that far away. I should have thought they would have visited on a more regular basis. Still, it takes all sorts; I suppose you keep in touch by letter.’
Eve stiffened. This sounded remarkably like criticism of both her parents, and indeed when she looked at Johnny he was grinning as though aware that she would not take his observation lightly.
‘My parents can’t just please themselves,’ she said, a touch coolly. ‘Daddy’s at sea most of the time and really busy when his ship’s in port, and I expect Mummy’s in the same boat …’
Johnny sniggered. ‘In the same boat; a very Navy way of putting it,’ he remarked. ‘By the way, have you asked Connie about her family? Or are you only nosy about me? She’s had it pretty tough, you know. She lives very near the docks and she’s an only child. Her father owns a greengrocer’s and her mother’s like mine, helping out with the war effort in any way she can …’
‘Or at least that’s what she told you,’ Eve said tartly, and could have kicked herself when she saw the disapproval on her companion’s face.
But when he spoke, it was mildly. ‘Why should she lie about a thing like that? You really do dislike her, don’t you? And as far as I can make out, for no particular reason.’ Once more he caught hold of Eve’s hand, pulling her round. ‘We’re not going to get as far as the otter pool – it’s after half past nine, so we’d better turn back here or you’ll be in trouble,’ he said cheerfully. ’Look, I wasn’t quite fair just now. Connie does tell the occasional whopper, everyone knows that, but I’m sure it’s only to try to make herself sound more interesting. I suspect most of us tell the odd tall story for that reason, so why don’t you forget all that stuff and try a bit harder to discover the real Connie? Honest to God, Eve, there’s a really nice person hidden away inside that girl. If I can see that why shouldn’t you?’
