Desperate Measures Read online

  I pushed him and he fell back on to the ground.

  Then Vicky came back. She looked cross.

  ‘Rhianna! What are you doing?’

  ‘He started it!’

  ‘For goodness’ sake!’

  Jamie got up and gave me a bad look. A chinese burn look. I went and stood behind Vicky.

  ‘All right. I’ve got a map. Now let’s try and work out where we are.’

  Vicky said we’d better keep away from the main roads just in case anyone was looking for us. She unfolded the map and looked at it for ages with Jamie. I asked her if we were nearly there and she said not far but we had to go all the way back to the crossroads then turn down one of the narrow lanes and walk a few miles until we got to the station. At the station we had to get on a train and when we got off the train we had to walk a bit more. I was tired and I didn’t want to walk anywhere but going on a train was all right. That sounded like fun.

  ‘Come on Re – if we keep going we’ll soon be at Great Auntie Irene’s,’ said Jamie.

  ‘Can we have spaghetti when we get there?’

  ‘I expect so.’

  ‘With cheese on top and no mushrooms in the sauce?’

  Mushrooms are yucky.

  ‘Course we can,’ said Jamie. ‘And we’ll have a massive fry-up tomorrow – bacon, eggs and tomatoes and toast and jam and hot chocolate and muffins with chocolate chips. And Great Auntie Irene’ll make us lovely dinners every single day . . . roast dinners too, like Mum used to.’

  ‘With pudding afterwards?’

  ‘And second helpings. Thirds if we want.’

  Vicky laughed.

  ‘We will!’ said Jamie.

  ‘Why not?’ said Vicky with a shrug. ‘Great Auntie Irene’s a fantastic cook.’

  ‘Can she make pizzas then?’

  ‘With her arms tied behind her back juggling a squirrel on her nose,’ said Jamie.

  ‘Really?’

  Jamie laughed. ‘Course she’ll be able to make pizzas Re. Don’t worry.’

  ‘And if she gets tired of cooking I can make cheese straws for her,’ I said. ‘I’m good at them.’

  It was all going to be lovely. I couldn’t wait. I started walking faster.

  ‘Slow down Re!’ called Vicky.

  ‘No. You hurry up – I want to get there!’

  Chapter 14

  It was hard work keeping up with Re. For a start she’s miles taller than Jamie and me and when she gets into her stride she really gets going. She wasn’t moaning about being hungry any more – she was talking non-stop about all the fun we were going to have when we got to Great Auntie Irene’s.

  We reached the crossroads and turned left down the lane. I felt happier now, out of sight and away from the traffic of the main road. We tracked our way through the lanes following the map for about an hour before taking a right fork into the narrowest lane so far. Grass was growing through the tarmac down the middle and Rhianna and Jamie were playing a game jumping from clump to clump. About half an hour later, we rounded a bend and found ourselves at a dead end, standing in front of two huge wrought-iron gates. They were closed, blocking our route. The black paint was chipped off in places revealing patches of red rust like open wounds. Through the gates was a long tree-lined drive, dotted with crumbling, mossy statues on pedestals. On either side of the gates were high stone walls topped with spikes.

  ‘What do we do now?’ asked Jamie, climbing on one of the gates and swinging it forwards and back. It squeaked painfully.

  ‘Get off there, Jamie.’

  He carried on swinging. I checked the map then looked down the tree-lined drive.

  ‘I don’t understand it. The station’s over that way. We must have taken a wrong turning somewhere.’

  ‘I’m not going all the way back – it’s miles and miles.’

  ‘The drive comes out on the other side of the grounds. But we can’t go that way – it’s private.’

  ‘Who says?’ Jamie jumped off the gate and started walking down the pot-holed drive kicking the loose gravel as he went. ‘Come on. It’s our “private” short cut.’

  I hesitated. To me those huge gates, high walls and sharp spikes were all shouting ‘Keep out’ pretty loudly. ‘We better not.’

  But Jamie wasn’t listening and Re was already trotting after him down the drive. The pair of them were zigzagging from statue to statue, inspecting each one and sniggering at the more scantily dressed ones.

  I looked round. Everything was so neglected I wondered if anyone even lived there any more.

  ‘Hey, Vicky, this one’s “armless”!’ Jamie was standing behind the stone torso of a woman, waving his arms around as Re giggled uncontrollably.

  I weighed up the risk. If we just nipped through and out the other side, likely as not no one would see us – no one would even know we’d been there. On the other hand, if we went back all the way we’d come, we’d have a huge detour. Jamie and Re were both in a good mood now but that wouldn’t last for ever. They were tired and hungry. And so was I. I made my choice, shoved the map back in my rucksack and ran after them. I caught them up as they were looking at a statue of a woman with wild snake-like hair and a manic look on her face. Moss was growing out of her left nostril.

  ‘Hey, Vicky – it’s you!’ Jamie quipped.

  ‘Very funny.’ I glanced at the statue again and couldn’t help but smile. It had more than a passing resemblance to Charlene Slackton, I thought.

  Chapter 15

  At the end of the drive there was a big old house. When we saw it Vicky made us hide behind some bushes and creep along so if there was anyone inside and they were looking out of one of the windows, they wouldn’t see us. It didn’t look like a very friendly old house. On each side of the front door was a stone lion staring at us with its front paws stretched out. One of them only had one ear. I started counting the steps up to the door but Jamie said I’d better be quiet or the lions would come to life and eat me. Vicky said he was just making it up and told him to shut up. I stopped counting the steps.

  Three big birds were sitting on a low roof at the end of the house. They weren’t made of stone, they were greeny blue with long feathery tails. One of them swooped down near us making a squawky noise. I jumped behind Vicky.

  ‘It’s all right Re. They’re only peacocks. They won’t hurt you.’

  I still didn’t like them. Another one flew down and they both started pecking the ground near to where we were hiding. Their tails were so long they dragged on the ground behind them. Suddenly one of them lifted its tail up and spread it out like a big fan. The feathers had yellow and blue and green eyes. It was beautiful. Mrs Edwards helped us make fans at school when it was hot. It’s quite difficult because you have to fold the paper one way then you turn it over and fold it the other way and then back the other way and so on until it looks like stairs when you open it out. I helped Maxine because she can’t do folding. Some of her fingers don’t work. They’re twisted up. She can do colouring, just about, so we spent ages decorating them. Mine was purple because that’s my favourite colour. It didn’t have eyes on it but it did have some glitter that was left over from when we did snow pictures at Christmas. Mrs Edwards stapled the bottom edge for us so it made the fan shape. We took them into the playground at break-time but Charlene Slackton snatched them off us and squashed them into balls and threw them down the toilet and everyone laughed except me and Maxine and Mr Harris the caretaker because they got stuck down there and he had to put his special gloves on to get them out.

  There was green stuff growing on the house. Vicky said it was ivy. It was everywhere. All over the walls and the roof. It was even growing over one of the lion’s backs and up the front door and on some of the windows, covering them up. The rest of the windows were very small and dark with diamond shapes on the glass and the curtains were ripped. It looked the sort of house an evil old witch would live in.

  ‘Maybe Mrs Frankish lives here.’

  ‘Don’t be daft
Re. We’re miles and miles away from home. It would take her hours to get to work every day.’

  Not on her broomstick, I thought.

  ‘I don’t think anyone lives here any more,’ said Vicky.

  I wasn’t sure about that. I looked up at one of the windows and saw the curtain move.

  ‘Look, there she is!’

  ‘Re – stop it!’

  ‘But Mrs Frankish was peeping out from behind that curtain!’

  I pointed up at the window. Some of the glass was missing and the curtain was blowing to and fro.

  ‘It’s just the wind Re,’ said Vicky. ‘There’s no one there.’

  ‘This place is really creepy,’ said Jamie. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  Chapter 16

  The gardens were totally wild and out of control, but underneath all the chaos and confusion it was a sad sort of place, forgotten and neglected. At one time, years ago, it must have been truly beautiful, somewhere people lavished time and effort and care. A real paradise. Now no one looked after it so it was slowly taking its revenge, putting up its own barriers: scratching, grazing and stinging anyone who dared to enter or try to explore it. I didn’t blame it.

  We tried to stay on what was left of a path that skirted the house and seemed to take us in the direction we needed to go but it was hard fighting through the scrub and bushes that blocked our way. Suffocating amongst the nettles and brambles that stung and scratched us were exotic-looking shrubs with sweet-smelling flowers and trees with strange patterned bark. Although we were alone in this jungle I kept having a weird feeling that someone else was there, following us, watching every move we made.

  I didn’t say anything to Jamie or Re and tried to push the thought out of my head. It wasn’t easy. I told myself I was just being stupid. I was tired and my mind was playing tricks on me. I really didn’t need to spook myself like this, I thought crossly. I already had plenty to worry about.

  I felt better when we came out of the dense undergrowth into a large area of long knee-length grass. I guessed it must have once been a beautifully manicured lawn. In the centre was a large, rectangular, ornamental pond choked with water lilies and weeds.

  Tramping down a path through the long grass like explorers, we made our way over to it and peered in.

  ‘Wow!’ Jamie shouted excitedly, leaning so far forward he looked as if he might fall headfirst into the pond any second.

  Swimming under the canopy of water lily leaves were several ginormous fish. Each was at least a foot long, if not more. We sat down on the edge of the pond and watched them.

  Jamie reached out his arm and trailed his hand in the water hoping the fish would come over to him.

  ‘Watch they don’t nibble your fingers off,’ I joked.

  It was Rhianna who heard them first. ‘What’s that?’ she asked.

  Jamie and I strained to listen. Then I heard it too. It was the sound of dogs, barking excitedly. It quickly became louder. A lot louder. They were coming in our direction. We barely had time to scramble to our feet before they emerged from the bushes on the other side of the long grass: two huge and powerful alsatians bounding towards us. Re screamed.

  ‘It’s the lions!’

  They stopped a few metres from us, staring threateningly with their ears pinned back, their teeth bared and their tails stretched out but not wagging.

  ‘Go away!’ shouted Jamie, waving his arms at them. ‘Get lost!’

  One of them started to growl, low and menacingly. I wasn’t sure what to do but I knew we were in deep trouble. Dogs like these could be vicious. I’d read stories in the papers. They could injure. They could even kill.

  ‘I don’t like them!’ Re wailed. ‘I don’t like them!’

  Before I could stop her she’d turned to run.

  ‘Stay where you are!’ an authoritative voice called. A white-haired woman dressed in a light-blue raincoat tied at the waist with a piece of string emerged from behind one of the bushes. She was carrying a thin white stick.

  ‘It’s all right, Re. Do as she says. Stand still.’

  Re looked at me, terrified, but did as she was told.

  Then something odd happened. I’m not sure what the woman did – I didn’t actually see her do anything, or say anything but the dogs suddenly stopped growling. One even started to wag its tail – not a friendly ‘I’m pleased to see you’ wag but a slow, suspicious, ‘So who are you lot then?’ wag.

  ‘Now, very slowly walk over to me.’

  We did as she said. The dogs made no attempt to follow us and once we were behind the woman it seemed as if they had lost interest in us. They bounded off, disappearing back in the bushes.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  Jamie and Re nodded but then, unable to stop myself, I burst into tears.

  ‘You’d better come inside. I’ll make some tea. Best thing for nasty shocks.’ She took one of my nettle-stung hands in her own knobbly arthritic one and felt it with the other. ‘And I suppose we’d better find something for those stings.’

  Without another word, she turned and started walking back towards the house, stopping by a large clump of nettles.

  ‘There’s probably some dock leaves growing nearby,’ she told us. ‘If you pick them and rub them on your skin where you’ve been stung it’ll help.’

  I looked down and saw a clump of large green leaves. I picked a couple and handed them to her. ‘Are these the ones?’ I asked. She held them close to her face. ‘That’s them,’ she said. We rubbed the leaves over our stings and it was lovely to get some relief from those painful white bumps.

  ‘Those mutts don’t belong to me, more’s the pity. Be far better trained if they did. The people down in the lodge own them.’ She waved her stick to indicate their direction. ‘Too lazy to walk them. Let them roam free in my grounds. My brother would have words with them.’ And with that she turned and went into the house.

  Chapter 17

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to go past the lions into the old lady’s house but Vicky said it would be all right. We went up the steps. Jamie patted one of the lions on its head and climbed up on its back.

  ‘Nothing to be scared of Re. They’re just stone. They won’t bite. They won’t do anything.’

  ‘But you said —‘

  ‘I was only teasing.’

  I went past them quickly and through the front door.

  ‘Why’s she got that stick?’ I asked Vicky.

  ‘I don’t think she can see very well,’ she whispered back. ‘She uses it to feel her way around.’

  I shut my eyes for a moment and took a few steps. I knocked into something hard and banged my side. It felt scary. I didn’t know where I was. Vicky pulled my arm.

  ‘What you doing Re?’

  ‘Nothing.’ I opened my eyes again and looked round.

  The hall was full of old furniture. There were paintings on the walls of people in long time ago clothes, and piles of books and boxes of papers and the biggest piano I’d ever seen and a clock in a big case like in the Hickory Dickory Dock nursery rhyme. Everything was dusty. I don’t think the old lady liked cleaning up much. I don’t either. I’d much rather play with Baby Emma or my Barbies.

  We went into the kitchen. There were saucepans hanging down from a rack over an old cooker and a white sink with a green stripy curtain round the bottom of it, a big table and chairs. The old lady picked up the kettle, felt for the tap then filled it and put it on top of the stove.

  ‘I suppose you’re hungry too,’ she said.

  ‘I’m starving!’ I told her. ‘We’ve only had doughnuts and apples today.’

  ‘Doughnuts! Good grief . . . Is that what your parents feed you?’ She shook her head then went over to the fridge. She opened the door and took out some shiny trays like take-away cartons.

  I was just about to tell her that it wasn’t our mum or dad that gave us the doughnuts when Vicky started talking very loudly and Jamie told me to shush.

  ‘It’s very kind
of you,’ said Vicky all politely. ‘We don’t usually have doughnuts . . . they were . . . a treat.’

  ‘Well. That’s something. You’re growing. You need decent food.’ The old lady looked down at the trays and sniffed. ‘Meals on Wheels. Not exactly high cuisine but I don’t know what I’d do without them.’ She picked each tray up and putting it close to her eyes read the labels on the tops. ‘I’ve got cottage pie, toad in the hole and . . . pasta.’

  ‘Pasta please!’ I said quickly. I didn’t like the sound of the other things.

  ‘But we can’t eat your food,’ Vicky said.

  ‘Yes we can. She said we could!’ I butted in quickly. I was starving.

  The old lady laughed. ‘It’s quite all right my dear,’ she said to Vicky as she put the trays into the oven. ‘Marion’ll be round tomorrow afternoon to drop off another lot. I’ll just tell her I was hungry this week. She’ll be very pleased. She’s always saying I’ve got no appetite . . . Now my brother – he’s a different kettle of fish. He could eat a horse and still have room for pud.’

  ‘Eurgh. I wouldn’t eat a horse,’ I said. ‘Even if I was really really hungry.’

  The old lady laughed but I meant it.

  Chapter 18

  She’d been named Elizabeth Margaret after the Queen and her sister. When she was a child growing up during the Second World War, her family had lived on the outskirts of London in a big house, but because it had been so dangerous with all the bombs and air raids every night, she and her brother Lionel were evacuated. They hadn’t wanted to leave their parents or each other but they’d had no choice. So, at the age of twelve, armed with a little box containing her gas mask and a small suitcase of clothes, she’d taken the train to Devon with the rest of the girls and teachers from her school. Her brother was sent to Canada on a ship called the City of Benares. It left Liverpool docks on 13th September 1940 with ninety children on board. By then Elizabeth was already in Devon. Lionel was just ten – the same age as Jamie.