The Tulip Girl (11 page)

‘Right,’ he said, breaking the spell that had enveloped them both for a moment. He picked up the receiver and whispered, ‘D’you reckon I can sound like me Dad?’

The tension broken, Maddie giggled. ‘You look like him, so maybe you can.’

Moments later after dialling, feeding coins into the slot and pressing button A, Michael said, ‘May I speak to the matron please?’

‘Mrs Potter,’ Maddie hissed.

There was a long wait and Maddie heard the pips and watched Michael frantically feed in another coin.

‘Ah, yes. Hello, Mrs Potter. This is Mr Brackenbury of Few Farm . . .’ Maddie stuffed her hand into her mouth to stifle her laughter. How neatly Michael was avoiding telling a
deliberate lie.

‘We so enjoyed having Jenny Wren with us last week, we would like to invite her to tea this afternoon.’

There was a pause, then Michael said, ‘Right . . . Yes . . . Yes . . . That will be fine. Three o’clock, then. Thank you. Goodbye.’

He replaced the receiver in its cradle and Maddie clutched at his arm. ‘What did she say? Is it all right? Can she come?’

‘’Course she can. We’re to fetch her at three o’clock.’

‘Oh.’ Maddie’s face fell. ‘But have you asked your dad? I mean, will he let you drive the car again?’

‘Probably not. We haven’t a lot of petrol to spare, but we’ll fetch her, Maddie. You and me. In the cart.’

Excitement surged, yet she dare not be too hopeful even yet. ‘And – and what about taking her back?’ Michael usually went out with his mates on a Saturday night.

Michael shrugged. ‘Either Dad or I’ll take her.’

And now Maddie’s pleasure knew no bounds. Michael was going to stay at home all afternoon and maybe the evening too. He couldn’t be planning to go out or else he wouldn’t be
offering to take Jenny back to the Home later.

Would he?

The four young people stood in the yard at Few Farm.

‘So,’ Michael began. ‘What are we going to do?’

Nick scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot, hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets. ‘What is there to do?’

‘Well, we can go into the village to the pub later . . .’

‘They’re too young,’ Nick countered and, glancing at Jenny, added, ‘and they look it.’

‘We could go into town.’

‘I’ve no money. Have you?’

‘A bit,’ Michael said, but then looked around at the other three as if to say, but not for all of us.

‘Looks like a walk then,’ Maddie said cheerfully. ‘Let’s show Jen all the animals and . . .’

‘Huh, I spend all day with them. I aren’t spending me time off with them,’ Nick muttered.

‘What do you want to do then?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

‘We’ll go for a walk in the woods. How about that?’ Michael suggested.

Maddie brightened. ‘Oh yes.’

There was a sly, devious look on Nick’s face as he said, ‘We’ll show you the Hanging Tree.’

Jenny gasped in alarm. ‘Oh no, Maddie, I don’t want to go there. I don’t like it. It’s – it’s creepy.’

Maddie tucked her arm through her friend’s. ‘It’s all right. There’s nothing can hurt you.’ She was intrigued. Now she had glimpsed Amelia Mayfield, the girl over
whom a young man had killed himself, she wanted to visit the tree again. To think that he had died for love touched Maddie’s heart. Maybe Amelia had been the one to plant all the golden
tulips and forget-me-nots in his memory. ‘We’ll see if those pretty flowers are still there.’

‘Maybe Jenny’s right to be frightened,’ Nick’s voice dropped a tone, like a storyteller telling ghostly tales around the fire at night. ‘It’s an evil place.
It’s a crime to take your own life, y’know. Maybe he still haunts the clearing . . .’

‘Stop trying to frighten them, Nick,’ Michael said. ‘And you should feel sorry for the poor chap who was desperate enough to do that. And poor Miss Amelia. She’s never
been right since. Her father keeps her a virtual prisoner in that great house of his. How would you like that, eh?’

Nick glared at him resentfully. ‘I know how she feels,’ he muttered.

‘Don’t talk daft. It’s up to you to cut loose from your mother’s apron strings. Come on, Maddie. You and me’ll go. These two can do what they like.’

They walked through the village and out towards the woods on the edge of Mayfield Park, Michael and Maddie forging eagerly ahead, Nick following slouching along, hands thrust deep into his
pockets and scuffing stones on the road with the toe of his boot. Some distance behind them all, Jenny hung back reluctantly.

Beneath the shadowy trees, Michael and Maddie walked close together.

‘I love it here,’ he said softly. ‘It’s so quiet and peaceful.’

Maddie lifted her face up, closed her eyes for a second and breathed in deeply, savouring the musty smells of dead and rotting leaves mingling with the scent of the new growth of blooms.
‘So do I.’

She felt Michael take her hand and they walked on, Maddie’s heart beating faster, until they came to the clearing.

‘Oh, they’re still here. No one’s picked them,’ Maddie said, delighted to see the heart-shaped bed of yellow tulips. But the pretty blooms were dying now, drooping
forlornly, lonely and neglected.

‘I suppose only Miss Amelia would pick them.’

‘Did she plant them?’ Maddie asked.

Michael shrugged. ‘No one knows for certain, but that’s what everybody thinks.’

Nick came to stand beside them.

‘Where’s Jen? You haven’t left her alone? She’ll be frightened,’ Maddie asked.

Nick glanced over his shoulder. ‘She’s coming.’ His smile was sly. ‘She dun’t like it here, does she? I wonder why?’

‘She’s sensitive,’ Maddie stuck up for her friend. ‘She feels things. She’s easily frightened.’

‘I’ll go and look for her then,’ Nick said and turned back to disappear amongst the trees the way they had come.

‘Thanks,’ Maddie called after him, grateful for his offer so that she could stay with Michael.

He released her hand and put his arm about her shoulders, pulling her closer, holding her against him. ‘I’m glad you’ve come to live with us, Maddie,’ he murmured against
her hair and she felt the familiar churning just below her ribs.

‘Oh Michael . . .’ She turned towards him and lifted her face to look up at him. In the dimness of the wood, she could hardly see his features but she could feel his breath warm on
her face. He was bending towards her, his mouth coming towards her own.

Suddenly, there was a shriek of terror and Jenny thrust her way through the bushes, her hair awry, her dress torn, tears running down her face.

‘He’s here. The man who ’anged hissen.’ She flung herself forward against Maddie, wrapping her arms around the older girl and clinging to her.

‘It’s all right. It’s all right,’ Maddie soothed her at once and then more firmly said, ‘Now, don’t be silly. There’s no such things as ghosts . .
.’

At that moment the breeze rustled through the leaves overhead and an eerie wailing sound seemed to come from the tree.

Jenny screamed again and buried her face against Maddie.

Angrily, Michael said, ‘That’s no ghost. That’s human and I know who it is.’

He ran across the clearing, skirting the bed of tulips and disappeared behind the tree.

‘Michael . . .’ Maddie called, suddenly afraid herself. What had seemed such a peaceful, even if poignant, place had now become fearful and threatening.

They heard a scuffling in the undergrowth, saw a bush shake and then from behind the Hanging Tree itself, Michael appeared dragging a wriggling Nick by the scruff of his neck.

‘This is your ghost, Jen. Just Nick playing cruel tricks. Now, say you’re sorry for frightening her.’ He gave the younger boy a little shake. ‘Go on.’

‘I’m sorry, Jenny. I was only having a bit of fun.’

Jenny lifted her face from Maddie’s shoulder to look at him. ‘It’s all right.’ She scrubbed away her tears. ‘I shouldn’t be such a scaredy cat.’

‘Come on,’ Maddie said. ‘We’ll go back now.’

To her surprise as they all turned to leave the clearing and make their way back through the woods, she saw Jenny fall into step beside Nick, glancing up at him with a shy smile.

‘Just look at that,’ she said to Michael. ‘Would you believe it after what he’s just done?’

Michael laughed. ‘There’s no accounting for taste.’

‘I’ve told you never to go near that place,’ Harriet Trowbridge raged at her son.

‘Don’t tell of him, Maddie,’ Jenny had pleaded as they entered the farmyard. ‘He didn’t mean it. He was only playing. It was my fault for being so silly.’

But there was no way they could hide Jenny’s torn dress nor the steak of tears on her face and Harriet missed nothing. ‘Whatever is Mrs Potter going to say if you go back to the Home
in that state?’ She sniffed. ‘I don’t think you’d better come here again if you can’t behave yourself, child.’

Jenny’s chin quivered with disappointment.

‘We were just playing, Mrs Trowbridge,’ Maddie was anxious as ever not to tell lies, but not wanting to tell tales on Nick either. She doubted the housekeeper would believe anything
said against her precious son anyway. ‘And Jenny caught her dress on a prickly bush.’

‘You shouldn’t be going into the woods anyway. Don’t you know better than to go into places like that and with two young lads? No better than you should be.’ Her glance
went between the two girls. ‘But then I suppose it’s to be expected. Bad blood in the pair of you.’

‘Aw, come on Mrs T,’ Michael smiled engagingly and put his arm about the woman’s shoulders. ‘Don’t be so hard on them. They’ll come to no harm with us. You
trust us, don’t you?’

Harriet glanced sideways at him. ‘Now, none of your smooth talk with me, young Michael. You might charm all the young lassies, but not me. As for trusting you, well, my Nicholas,
certainly. But as for you . . .’

To Maddie’s amazement the woman actually smiled as she tapped Michael playfully on the end of his nose. ‘I wouldn’t trust you no further than I could throw you.’

‘Aw, Mrs T, I’m wounded. How can you say such a thing about me?’

‘Go on with you. You’d better get this child tidied up and take her home.’

Mrs Potter was even more direct. ‘That’s the last time I let you out on a visit, miss. Just look at you.’ She thrust her face close to Jenny’s whilst
both Maddie and Michael looked on helplessly. ‘I hope you haven’t been doing anything you shouldn’t have.’ Then she glanced up at Maddie. ‘I might have known
you’d have been behind all this. Well, Maddie March, you’ve seen the last of your little friend while she’s in my care, let me tell you.’

‘Mrs Potter . . .’ Michael began, but the Matron held up her hand. ‘Don’t you start, neither. I’ve had enough of this pair to last me a lifetime. I thought
I’d got shot of you . . .’ she jabbed her finger towards Maddie. ‘But you’re still bringing trouble to me door. And as for you, young feller, you want to watch her.
She’s a bad’un.’

As the heavy door closed behind them and they climbed back into the cart, Michael let out a sigh of relief. ‘What a dragon! How on earth did you stick living there?’

Settling herself beside him, Maddie said in a small voice, ‘We’ve no choice, have we?’

On the drive home they were both silent. Maddie was saddened to think she would not see Jenny again for several months, probably not until she was fourteen and Mrs Potter had found someone to
take her. She doubted Mrs Potter would even deliver letters to Jenny if Maddie wrote to her.

Once or twice she glanced sideways at Michael who seemed lost in his own thoughts, his mouth pursed in a hard line.

As he manoeuvred the cart in through the yard gate, he put his arm briefly around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. ‘Don’t worry, young’un, this is your home now.
We’ll look after you. But I am sorry about poor little Jenny.’

Tears prickled Maddie’s eyes and she felt a lump in her throat at his kindness. Trying to smile she said, ‘We’ll just have to wait until September. That’s all.’

‘Oh well,’ Michael said cheerfully. ‘That’s not long.’

Maddie said nothing but she was thinking it’s an awful long time if you’re living in the Mayfield Orphanage under Mrs Potter’s rule.

‘Why did you give Jenny that doll? She told me you’d given it to her. I got it for you. You’d no right.’ Nick’s expression was a mixture of hurt
and anger.

Swiftly Maddie said, ‘I’m sorry, Nick. But that night when we took her back to the Home, she looked so lost and lonely and I felt so lucky being able to live here with all of you. I
just – well, I . . .’

She fell silent but Nick was making no effort to understand her generous gesture. Instead, he said again morosely, ‘It was for you. I wanted you to have it. I thought you liked
it.’

‘I did. I do, but Jen’s like my little sister and I – I thought you’d understand and not mind. I am sorry, Nick.’

He was unforgiving. As he turned away, he flung the words back at her over his shoulder. ‘I bet you wouldn’t have parted with the doll if Michael had given it to you.’

Maddie opened her mouth to say, Of course I would, but the words were not spoken for even as they came automatically to her lips, she knew them to be untrue. And even to save Nick’s
feelings, Maddie could not lie.

He was right. Had Michael won the lovely doll for her she would not have given it away to anyone. Not even to little Jenny Wren.

Towards the end of August, Michael asked her, ‘Would you like to come to the village hop with me on Saturday night?’

Over the past few weeks Maddie had felt that she and Michael were getting closer and closer. He would touch her hand, wink at her as he passed her in the yard and touch her foot with his own toe
beneath the table at mealtimes.

And now he was asking her out. Properly.

Thinking of the pretty summer dress hanging in her wardrobe that Harriet had grudgingly bought for her on Frank’s instructions, Maddie beamed and, a little breathlessly, said,
‘I’d love to. Thanks.’ Then her face sobered. ‘But I can’t dance.’

‘No problem.’ Nothing ever seemed a problem to Michael. ‘Place gets so crowded, you can’t dance the proper steps anyway. I tell you what, though,’ he added as a
sudden thought struck him. ‘We’ll get the gramophone going in the front room. I’ve got some Glen Miller records and I’ll show you a few dance steps before we go.
Besides,’ he added with a mock leer and moved closer to her, ‘it’ll be a good excuse to hold you close.’