A Way Out

ary stared at Mrs Medlock in horror. ‘School! No, I’m not ready! I can’t go!’

‘You have no say in it, child,’ Mrs Medlock said, her eyes glinting victoriously. ‘It’s all arranged. It’s a school that is full of the right sort of people – and the right sort of discipline.’

Mary saw her uncle walk by below. She flew down the stairs. ‘Uncle. No!’ she appealed.

‘Oh, no you don’t,’ gasped Mrs Medlock, hastening after her. ‘You leave your uncle alone!’

‘Uncle … Mr Craven … sir! Please don’t send me away. Please! I need to be here!’ Mary begged.

Her uncle carried on walking without even looking at her. Fury burst through Mary. Blinded by rage, she grabbed his arm. ‘Colin doesn’t have a hump!’ she shouted. ‘Why do you keep saying he does?’

‘What are you talking about now?’ her uncle snapped, shaking her off.

‘Colin! He doesn’t have a hump and you know it!’ She took in the astonishment on his face and suddenly realised something. ‘But of course,’ she breathed. ‘You haven’t seen his back, have you? You don’t visit him enough to know what it’s actually like.’

‘When Colin was younger, the physician said that he believed that he would develop a hump like mine unless Colin had medicine and followed his orders,’ Mr Craven said stiffly. ‘I have done as he recommended. I do not want my son to suffer as I have suffered. His body is weak.’

‘But not because he has a hump!’ Mary exclaimed. Suddenly she saw the chance to make things better for Colin. ‘It’s only because he’s shut up and made to believe he’s an invalid and never gets to use his legs. You can change that,’ Mary said passionately. ‘He isn’t dying. Please! You’ve got to believe me!’

A puffing Mrs Medlock had now reached her and tried to pull her away. ‘Stop with your talking or this will get much worse.’

But Mary fought her off. She had to make her uncle understand. ‘This isn’t what Aunt Grace would have wanted for Colin,’ she cried passionately. ‘Don’t you see, Uncle? This isn’t what she would have wanted for either of you!’

Mr Craven erupted. ‘Silence, child. You know nothing of my wife.’

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Mrs Medlock gasped. ‘I shall see that’s she’s punished.’

Mary stamped her foot, desperate to make them understand. ‘I know that she wouldn’t have stood outside his door while he cried at night! I know she loved the outdoors and wouldn’t have wanted Colin to be shut up inside and told he has a hump on his back when he has none! Can’t you see what you’re doing? This house has become a prison – for both of you!’

Her uncle gazed at her for a long moment and then strode away.

‘I’m sorry, sir. She leaves tomorrow,’ Mrs Medlock called after him desperately.

‘Good!’ Mr Craven snapped, without glancing back.

Mary was marched to her room by Mrs Medlock and pushed roughly inside. Forgetting the vow she had made all those months ago to never cry again, she wore herself out with sobbing. She didn’t think she could bear to be sent away to school, to leave her friends and the secret garden.

She cried herself to sleep and woke up in the middle of the night. As she opened her eyes, everything came flooding back and a steely determination filled her. They could try and send her away if they wanted, but they’d have to find her first!

She left her bedroom and began to creep downstairs. Her uncle’s study door was open. There was a light shining out. Mary stole a quick look inside. Archibald was sitting in a leather chair at a table beside the window. On the table was a bottle of whisky and in one hand he had a half-filled glass. In the other, he held a framed photograph. It was the one she had seen in his study. Aunt Grace was in the front of the picture. She was sitting on the grass and Colin was looking over her shoulder, his little arms round her neck. They were both smiling at the person holding the camera.

Mary saw her uncle dash his hand across his face. ‘What have I done?’ he muttered. ‘Oh, Grace, what have I done?’

She swallowed and was about to creep past when there was a fizzle and the lights suddenly went out. Mary froze and waited for her eyes to adjust. Using the light from the moon, her uncle fumbled with a candle and some matches. He burned his hand as he tried to light it and exclaimed angrily as the match went out. He tried again, striking another match and then throwing it down when it burned out. Desperately hoping she wouldn’t trip over anything or bump into anything, Mary hurried past and ran down the main staircase. She grabbed her warmest coat and boots from the cloakroom and then scurried out through the back door. As the cold night air hit her face, she felt both relieved and scared. She’d done it! She’d escaped!

Mary slept that night in the secret temple with Hector beside her. She woke, feeling hungry, as the sun rose. Dickon came through the gate, whistling. He stopped in surprise when he saw her sitting on the steps with Hector, watching the early-morning sunrise, its rays falling on the perfect sea of flowers that now bloomed round the temple and statues. The weeds had been conquered and the flowers had opened to the sun. Clumps of white lily of the valley and nodding bluebells clustered in the shady areas with tall pink foxgloves behind them. Hydrangea bushes covered with enormous lilac and pink blooms that looked like pompoms spilled from the borders, along with clouds of white orange blossom and yellow hypericum.

‘Mary? What are you doing here?’ Dickon asked.

‘They are going to send me to school today,’ she said glumly. ‘But I won’t go. I won’t, Dickon!’

He nodded, understanding.

‘Colin will be wondering where I am,’ Mary said anxiously. ‘Can you go to him? Get Martha to help you and bring him here?’

She watched as he left the garden. What would everyone be doing in the house? They would have realised she had gone by now. What would they be saying? A feeling of satisfaction that she had outwitted Mrs Medlock filled her, warming her up and making her forget about her cold fingers and toes. As the sun rose higher, she felt its warmth sinking into her skin and she went to the stream to get some water to drink.

When she came back, she saw Dickon pushing Colin in his chair. Both boys were looking excited and flushed. ‘We had such a near miss, Mary!’ Colin called. ‘Mrs Medlock almost caught Dickon in my room. He had to hide in my wardrobe. When she left, he had to push me as fast as he could. I thought he was going to bounce me clean out of my chair.’ His eyes flew to her face. ‘What’s going on? Dickon said you’ve run away.’

She ran over to him. ‘I have. I can’t go to school, Colin. I just can’t!’ She looked round the garden. ‘And I don’t need to.’ A plan had formed in her mind in the night. ‘I can stay here!’ She saw his doubtful look and rushed on. ‘I’ll be happy. You can bring me food and clothes. Blankets too.’

Colin shook his head. ‘I know you don’t want to go school and we don’t want you to go either …’ he said slowly.

‘He’s right, we don’t,’ Dickon put in.

Mary was grateful as she saw the warm friendship in their eyes.

‘But you can’t stay locked up in this garden,’ Colin went on, pushing himself out of the chair and standing on shaky legs. ‘It’s as bad as me being locked up in my room. Life needs living.’

‘Says the boy who’s seen none of it!’ retorted Mary.

‘Says the girl so determined that no one loves her that she’ll make it so!’ Colin exclaimed.

She scowled at him. ‘You don’t understand. If I go to school, they won’t like me like you do. I’ll go back to being alone as I used to be and I don’t think I can bear that.’ Her voice rose. ‘I like it here too much. I like this –’ she swept her arm around – ‘and both of you.’

Hector interrupted them by barking frantically. Mary frowned. What was he doing?

They all turned. In the distance, from the direction of the house, they could see smoke rising into the sky. ‘That smoke,’ said Colin, his expression turning to alarm. ‘Is that normal?’

‘No,’ said Dickon anxiously.

‘It’s coming from the house! There must be a fire!’ gasped Mary.

‘Father!’ Colin cried.

‘Martha!’ said Dickon, in fear.

Mary didn’t hesitate. She sprinted towards the gate. Dickon followed. Colin took a few hobbling steps after them. Mary glanced back and saw the frustration and defeat in his face.

‘I can’t!’ he shouted. ‘But you go … GO!’