The Runaway Summer (13 page)

‘Alice!’ Grandfather said.

‘Some laws are made to be broken,’ Aunt Alice said.
‘There’s no point in sweeping things under the carpet!
Pretending
Mary and Simon didn’t know what they were doing, and it was just a childish prank. It’s—well—it’s insulting to them both!’

She looked and sounded so indignant that Mary wished she could run and hug her.

‘
Well
…’ Grandfather said, and chuckled. Then he cleared his throat. ‘Would it be insulting, Alice, to suggest she went to bed? It’s late, and I suppose even hardened criminals get tired. And the next few days are likely to be rather exciting …’ He filled his pipe again and spent rather a long time tamping the tobacco down. Then he looked at Aunt Alice over the flaring match and said, ‘Have you told her yet?’

Aunt Alice said quickly, ‘Come along, dear. Grampy’s right. Time for Bedfordshire!’

Though this was the sort of silly remark that usually
irritated
Mary, it didn’t tonight. It seemed just friendly, like someone putting an arm round your shoulders. She kissed her Grandfather and went upstairs, yawning and dragging her feet with Aunt Alice behind her, saying, ‘Ups-i-daisy, now …’

It wasn’t until she was in bed that she said, drowsily, ‘Told me what? What haven’t you told me?’

Aunt Alice was at the window. She drew the curtains back and stood for a minute, looking out. Then she came and sat on the edge of the bed and said, in a light, far-away voice, ‘Your Mummy’s coming in a few days’ time.’

Mary said nothing. Round Aunt Alice’s head, there was a fuzz of light from the lamp behind her. Mary narrowed her eyes and made the fuzz spiky.

‘Won’t that be nice?’ Aunt Alice said.

Mary said, ‘Yes,’ because it was what Aunt Alice would expect her to say. She thought of asking if her mother was
coming to take her home, and then of saying that she didn’t want to go, but she knew she couldn’t say that. Aunt Alice was being nice now, because she was a nice person, but
underneath
, deep down, she couldn’t really want her to stay. Not after all the things Mary had said about her.

Mary sighed a little and said, ‘Did you really tell people all that? About being a Duke’s daughter?’

‘Oh yes. I used to tell the most awful lies. Don’t most children? There’s usually a reason …’

Aunt Alice smiled. With her back to the light and smiling, she looked quite pretty and young, Mary thought. She put out her hand and Aunt Alice took it and turned it over
thoughtfully
, as if she were going to read the lines on the palm.

‘Why did you tell Simon I used to be a nurse?’ she asked, so suddenly and unexpectedly, that Mary answered at once.

‘To make him fetch you, of course. Because I wanted you to come.’

Aunt Alice sat very still. Then she said, in her bright voice, It was just as well I did, wasn’t it? Poor little boy.’

‘I didn’t mean just that,’ Mary said. ‘I mean I wanted you to come for
me
.’

‘Oh,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘Oh Mary …’

Her voice sounded quite different now, and Mary was afraid she was going to cry, so she tugged on her hand to make Aunt Alice come down to kiss her. And when she did, Mary put both arms round her neck and held her tight.

W
HEN THE FRONT
door bell rang, Mary flew out the back way and across the lawn and into the shrubbery. She sat huddled up on the damp, leafy ground, arms wrapped round her knees. She whispered under her breath, ‘I’m afraid Mary’s not here, anymore. I’m sorry there wasn’t time to let you know, and stop you coming. No, we don’t know where she’s gone. She’s quite all right, though, quite safe. She asked me to tell you that, and not to try and find her, because you never will

It was raining. The rain dripped through the leaves and plopped on top of her head and trickled down her face. She put out her tongue and caught a drop on the end. It tasted salt, like the sea. Or like tears.

She said, ‘I’m sorry you had such a long journey for nothing. All this way. But there’s no point in waiting. Or in calling her. She won’t come

Aunt Alice said, ‘Mary …’

She crept into the shrubbery, and crouched on her haunches. Twigs had caught in her hair and tweaked out wisps from her bun. After one look, Mary put her head down on her knees.

‘Mary dear,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘You know who’s here?’

Mary pressed down as if she could push herself into the ground and grow roots. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps.

‘Please,’ Aunt Alice said. She touched Mary’s hand.

‘I can’t,’ Mary said. ‘I can’t …’

Aunt Alice said nothing.

Mary lifted her head and looked at her. ‘I feel sick inside.’

‘I know.’

‘You could say I wasn’t here. Or dead. Or something …’

‘It’s no good running away,’ Aunt Alice said.

*

They came out of the shrubbery, across the lawn, and into the house. Mary watched her feet walking. Aunt Alice was just behind her.

There were three people in the room. Grandfather and another man, standing by the window; and her mother on the hearth rug, her hand stretched out to the first fire of the autumn. Rings winked on her fingers.

‘Darling,’ she said. ‘Goodness, you’ve grown! Quite a beanpole!’

Mary felt clumsy; her arms swung at her sides like weights. She stumped across acres of carpet and stood to be kissed.

‘You smell of violets,’ she said.

The man by the window laughed.

‘Darling!’
her mother said, and laughed too, as if Mary had said something ridiculous. ‘It’s a terribly expensive scent!’ She put her hands on Mary’s shoulders. ‘Let me look at you!’

Mary looked at her. She had forgotten how pretty she was—all shining, smooth hair and big, soft eyes—and how young. Too young to be anyone’s mother!

The man by the window said, ‘I can’t believe it. I really can’t believe it!’ He had a loud, jolly voice.

‘True, I’m afraid,’ Mary’s mother said. ‘This really is my
enormous
daughter. And Mary darling, this is
Jeff
. I hope you are going to be great friends.’

‘I’m sure we will be.’ Jeff came over to the fire. He was tall and good looking, like a man in an advertisement. ‘I’m sure we will be,’ he repeated, and winked at her. ‘Quite a girl, aren’t you? I’ve been reading all about you in the newspapers!’

Aunt Alice said breathlessly, ‘I’m so sorry … The reporter came to the door and talked to Mary before I could stop him. Actually, I thought he was the gas man. That’s why I let her answer the door. It’s all my fault.’

‘Nonsense, Alice,’ Grandfather said. ‘It doesn’t matter, anyway. Just a nine days wonder …’

‘I liked being in the paper, Aunt Alice,’ Mary said, although in fact she had neither liked nor disliked it. It had simply seemed strange, reading about herself, and Simon, and Krishna. As if they were three people she didn’t know at all …

‘I bet you liked it!’ Jeff squeezed her hand. ‘I
bet
you did!’

Mary wondered if he always said everything twice, and wished he would let go her hand.

But he went on holding it. ‘How’s your young friend? Young Patel …?’

‘Very well, thank you,’ Mary said. ‘He had an operation, you know, but he’s much better now. We’re going to see him this afternoon.’

‘I want to hear all about it, sometime. All about it.’ Jeff gazed solemnly and steadily into her face, as if he were looking for something.

Mary guessed why he was trying so hard to be nice. She said, ‘Are you going to marry my mother?’

Jeff threw back his head and laughed. ‘Straight from the shoulder! I like that. I like that
very
much! Yes, Mary, I am.’ He released her hand and took her mother’s, instead. ‘I hope you approve,’ he said.

They looked very nice together, Mary thought. Both so
young and smooth, with no pouches or wrinkles in their skin, or creases in their clothes. They made Grandfather and Aunt Alice look rather shabby and crumpled.

Her mother said, ‘Darling, I hope it’s not
too
much of a surprise! I meant to write before I came, but we’ve been so dreadfully busy. A hundred and one things to do. Have you heard from Daddy? He promised he’d write, but you know how lazy he is!’

‘No. He hasn’t written to me,’ Mary said. Is he coming home?’

She asked out of politeness. She was sure she knew the answer already.

As she did. ‘He’s staying in South America, darling,’ her mother said. ‘He likes the climate, he says!’ She stopped. ‘Darling,
do
take that look off your face. Do you feel very cross?’

‘No,’ Mary said. It was odd, but she didn’t feel anything very much. ‘I was just thinking,’ she said. ‘Are you going to live in the flat?’

Jeff shook his head. ‘But we’re looking for something very much like it! Convenient and central and with enough room …’ He winked at Mary’s mother, and then at Mary, as if they were all three sharing some tremendously funny joke. ‘Enough room for you, if you want to come,’ he said.

Mary stared at her feet. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Don’t know what, darling?’ her mother said.

Mary thought her feet looked unfamiliar, somehow. As if they belonged to someone else. Her voice seemed to belong to someone else too. ‘I just don’t know.’

Her mother said. ‘Of course, we haven’t found the right flat, yet. It’ll take a little time.’

Mary felt something then: a wave of relief that seemed to rush through her and over her. They weren’t going to take her away, then! At least, not now! Not at once!

Her mother said, ‘You can come and help us look, if you like. If you want to.’

Mary looked at her. She was smiling her soft, pretty smile, but it looked rather fixed, as if she were posing for a photograph.

Mary thought—Why, she’s only being
polite!

For a moment, there was a queer, suffocating feeling in her throat and she wanted to run away—out of the room, out of the house. Then she looked at Aunt Alice and remembered what she had said in the shrubbery,
it’s
no
good
running
away,
and knew that it was true. It couldn’t change anything, or make any difference: she could run as far and as fast as she liked, but her mother and Jeff and Grampy and Aunt Alice would still be here, in this room, waiting for her answer.

Her mother said,
‘Do
you want to, darling?’

It was no good telling lies, either.

Mary said, ‘I’d rather stay with ith Grampy and Aunt Alice, if you don’t mind.’ And stared at the carpet which was red, with faded orange flowers on it.

Someone in the room let out breath in a long sigh.

Mary looked up. Her mother was still softly smiling, but more naturally than before.

‘Of course I don’t mind, darling,’ she said—and Mary knew that she meant it. ‘But we must ask Grampy. And Aunt Alice, of course.’

Mary looked at them.

‘Glad to have her. She keeps us lively,’ Grandfather said, and blew his nose.

‘We’ve got quite fond of her.’ Aunt Alice laughed in the
high, nervous way Mary used to think was so silly. ‘Between you and me and the gatepost!’ she said.

*

They all went out to lunch at the big hotel on the front. They had shrimp cocktail and roast chicken with peas and curls of crisp bacon, and lemon sorbet ice, and everyone ate a lot and talked and enjoyed themselves so much that Aunt Alice and Mary were five minutes late at the hospital.

Simon was already there, at Krishna’s bedside. Krishna was sitting up in bed in a pair of beautiful, purple pyjamas with a red dragon embroidered on the breast pocket.

‘My Uncle brought them,’ he said. ‘And the grapes, and the books. He is coming again today, because I had my stitches out this morning.’

‘Did it hurt?’ Mary asked.

‘Oh, it was terrible.’ Krishna fell back against the pillows and rolled his eyes up, so only the whites showed. ‘There were three doctors to hold me down, while another came with a great, sharp knife …’

‘Liar,’ Simon said, and helped himself to a grape.

‘I was only making it more interesting for Mary. She likes stories.’ Krishna giggled, and looked at Mary. ‘It was just a tickle, really. Would you like to see my clippings?’

‘Your what?’

‘Clippings,’ Krishna said proudly. ‘Newspaper clippings. All about
me
. My Uncle brought them.’

He took an envelope out of his locker and emptied it on the bed. Some of the cuttings were just paragraphs, in small print, but two had photographs: one the reporter had taken of Mary, and another of Simon, which had a headline above it.
POLICEMAN’S SON IN RESCUE BID
.

‘Was your Dad very angry?’ Mary said.

‘Not as much as I’d expected,’ Simon said, and took another grape. ‘Mr Patel came to see him.’

Mary glanced at Krishna who was busy showing Aunt Alice the newspaper cuttings. She said, under her breath, ‘Was
he
angry?’

She was afraid of meeting Krishna’s Uncle. They had kidnapped his nephew, after all …

Simon shook his head. ‘Not when I saw him.’ He spat grape pips into his hand and looked shyly at Mary. ‘I was wrong,’ he said.

‘What about?’

‘Oh. Just about things. Where he lived, for one …’ He blushed; then grinned. ‘But I was right about the Cadillac! He hasn’t got one!’ He looked at Mary triumphantly and leaned forward to take another grape. ‘Only a Rolls Royce,’ he said.

‘What are you whispering about?’ Krishna said, and then, in the same breath, ‘Here is my Uncle.’

Mary looked. A dark gentleman was walking down the ward. He wasn’t very tall, and he had a delicate, narrow face, very like Krishna’s. He kissed Krishna; shook hands with Aunt Alice and Simon, then with Mary. ‘So this is your other gallant friend!’ he said.

‘Mary,’ Krishna said. ‘She pulls awfully good faces.’

Uncle Patel smiled at her. ‘I have to thank you for taking such good care of my nephew. He was fortunate to fall into such kind hands.’

Mary felt pleased, and terribly embarrassed.

Krishna said, ‘Pull some faces now, Mary. Pull the mad face!’

Mary shook her head.

‘But I
want
you to!’ Krishna said.

‘I can’t. Not here.’

‘It’s not Church,’ Aunt Alice said.

Mary thought they were all looking at her as if it was mean of her to refuse what Krishna wanted, so she did her best. Aunt Alice shuddered and closed her eyes, but Krishna laughed and then clutched his stomach and said, ‘No! Stop! Don’t make me laugh, it hurts my scar …’ Tears came into his eyes and his Uncle took his hand.

‘Well, you did
ask.
’ Mary felt she had been put in the wrong. She looked crossly at Aunt Alice who smiled, and winked at her privately.

Aunt Alice said, ‘We ought to go now, dear. Krishna mustn’t get too excited.’

Krishna pouted and thumped up and down in the bed. ‘Don’t go. I don’t want any of you to go.’

‘Hush, my lamb,’ Aunt Alice said—but severely, as if she thought Krishna had had his own way quite long enough.

He lay still then, and looked at her with his plum-coloured eyes. ‘But we haven’t had a proper talk yet! About the island! Have you been back, Simon?’

‘I’m going this afternoon to fetch my camping gear.’

‘
I
want to go,’ Krishna said. ‘It’s not
fair
.’

Uncle Patel was smiling. ‘There will be plenty of time when you are well. I have heard this morning that you will be allowed to stay with me until your parents come, which should not be too long, I think.’ He looked at Aunt Alice. ‘There has been a lot of interest shown in Krishna’s case. Our young friends have had something to do with that, I think. The
publicity
has been useful! And also the fact that they hid him, of course! The longer you can remain in the country without being caught, the better your chance of being allowed to stay!’

Mary looked at Krishna, to see if he had appreciated all
they had done for him, but he seemed not to be listening to his Uncle, just waiting for him to stop speaking. When he did, Krishna caught Aunt Alice’s hand and burst out, ‘There is a thing I have been thinking about. Simon’s Uncle fetched me in a boat. Where did it come from? All the time we were there, we did not see a boat. Nor any people, either.’

‘Didn’t you ever go beyond the bridge, my lambkin?’ Aunt Alice said.

She looked at Simon, smiled mysteriously, and bent to whisper in Krishna’s ear.

*

‘What did she mean? Why didn’t she tell
me
?’ Mary said, when they got to the island.

‘I suppose she thought I’d like to show you.’

Simon sighed. He had been very silent ever since they had left the hospital, but although Mary had noticed this, it had not troubled her much. She had been silent herself; her mind too busy to speak.

Now, as Simon led the way further round the lake, she said, ‘You heard what Uncle Patel said? About people being allowed to stay in England if they manage not to be caught for a while? Well—we could do it
again
. I mean, we could watch on the beach, and meet immigrants coming in, and bring them to the island and hide them and feed them …

‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Simon stopped so suddenly that she bumped into him. ‘Who d’you think you are? James Bond or something?’ He looked at her coldly for a minute, and then went on, more kindly, ‘They wouldn’t have let him stay if he’d been a poor boy, don’t you know that? It’s just because he’s got a rich uncle. I know Mr Patel
said
that about us being helpful, but he was just being nice! As if we were kids who’d
been naughty and needed cheering up! Besides, we couldn’t hide anyone on the island, not now everyone
knows
. It’s not private anymore. ‘He stopped and swallowed with a rasping sound as if he had something sharp caught in his throat.’ It never was, really …’