To my massive relief, I find Borage sitting on the back doorstep. Once inside, he heads straight to the room Nell calls the library and presses his nose up against the door: I suppose this means she’s in there. I should probably wait till she comes out again, but I want to ask her about the village and the girl I’ve just seen so I make her a cup of coffee and take it in.
She’s sitting at a desk over by the window, sifting through piles of paperwork. A little electric heater hums away at her feet but the room is still freezing. It’s dark in here too, despite the big bay window. Borage settles down next to her chair.
‘Here,’ I say, offering her the steaming cup.
She looks surprised. But, with the tiniest nod, she takes it and wraps her hands around it.
‘You made it back, I see,’ she says. ‘The locals didn’t eat you up.’ She says it with a wry smile so I guess she already knows what they think of her in Bexton.
‘They weren’t exactly welcoming at the shop,’ I say.
‘No, they wouldn’t be. I’m not very popular in Bexton these days. So much fuss about a bunch of old trees. The sooner my wood comes down the better.’
‘When is it happening?’
She looks down at her desk. It’s a mass of papers – bills, letters, maps with coloured lines on them and the words ‘Land Registry’ at the top.
‘That, my dear, is a good question. The council say there’s no Preservation Order on any of the trees, and because they’re potentially dangerous, you see, they’ve given it the go-ahead.’
‘So why the delay?’
‘I’ve not yet found a single tree surgeon who is willing to do the job. I’ve tried all the local numbers and a few further afield. No one wants to cut down my wood.’
‘Why’s that?’
Nell shrugs. ‘It’s an old wood. People round here like their countryside untouched. They don’t want change. Word’s got about that I’m a bad person for wanting rid of the trees. And bingo – I’m the local villain.’
She doesn’t seem overly bothered. I’m not sure if I admire her or feel sorry for her.
‘But you said the roots were growing too close to the house and it wasn’t safe. And that you wanted more light in your garden. That sounds fair enough,’ I say.
She blinks. Takes a sip of coffee.
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘So I’ll keep trying until I find someone to do it.’
Reaching down to stroke Borage, she stares out of the window. The view looks over the lawn to those trees marked with white crosses. Not all the trees are the same type. Some look like the ones in our park back home, others are tall and spindly. All of them are bare because it’s winter. They make me think of skinny fingers reaching towards the house.
‘Beastly things, aren’t they?’ Nell says, meaning the trees.
I think of the rustlings I heard out there last night. ‘They’re kind of creepy.’
‘Creepy?’ Nell snorts.
She obviously doesn’t think so. But I’m sure someone was in the woods last night. And today I found my folded-up hat – placed there by … who? That girl I’ve just seen?
‘Do any young people live round here?’ I ask.
‘I came across a girl in the woods. She ran off before I could speak to her.’
Nell tuts. ‘Travellers, I shouldn’t wonder. Probably one of that lot camped out up at Glossop’s Farm.’
‘Is that near here?’
‘About a mile that way.’ She points in the opposite direction to the village. ‘The house is derelict, the fields are all rented out. When the Travellers arrived a few months ago and set up camp, the council tried to move them on. But they’ve not managed it yet.’
‘Oh.’
So the girl in the red coat is probably a Traveller who lives nearby. Yet it doesn’t explain why anyone would be in Darkling Wood in the middle of the night. Was it her, or someone else? It’s a bit odd. But then, I suppose I was out there too.
‘Next time you see that Traveller girl, let me know,’ says Nell. ‘My wood is private property; she clearly needs to be reminded of that fact.’
I look at Nell sideways. She’s got a fierce face. Strong nose, big jaw. Dad’s grey eyes. I bet she was beautiful once. Now, though, she’s spiky like the trees.
‘Do you think the girl will come back, then?’ I ask.
Before Nell can answer, the phone rings out in the hall.
‘I’ll go!’
Please let it be Mum saying she’ll come and take me home.
‘Hello?’ I say.
‘Alice?’
‘Mum!’ I sink into the chair next to the telephone table.
‘Don’t get too excited.’ She sounds serious. Something’s not right.
‘The doctor’s just been to see us,’ she says. ‘Theo’s temperature is a bit too high, so they’re giving him antibiotics.’
‘Oh.’ My stomach drops. ‘He’s got an infection?’
‘Just a little one. The doctor says they’re quite common in transplant patients. So once the antibiotics get to work, he’ll be fine. It’s nothing to worry about, really.’
This is more like Mum, making it sound like it’s no big deal.
‘Can I come and see him?’ I ask. ‘I did promise. And I’ve done him a card.’
There’s a very long pause. ‘Give it a few days, love.’
In the meantime, I’m stuck here and Mum and Theo are there. I twist the phone cord tight round my finger.
‘Are you okay?’ Mum says.
I’m not. She’s not either – I can hear the strain in her voice. And I can’t do anything. I take a deep breath.
‘Are you sure this infection isn’t bad? Only in the booklet it says …’
Mum interrupts. ‘He’ll be fine. Now please, stop worrying, will you? It doesn’t help.’
I grit my teeth. All the time I’m just stuck here, waiting for the phone to ring. It’s doing my head in. There must be some way I can help.
‘Alice? Are you still there?’ Mum says.
‘Yes.’
‘Listen, this infection has set things back a few days. So I need you to understand, and be okay with it.’
I guess the next bit. ‘Which means I’ll have to stay here longer.’
The kid part of me wants to scream ‘IT’S NOT FAIR!’ But what’s the point? None of this is fair. So I swallow it and say goodbye.
As soon as I’m off the phone, Nell’s in the hallway. I’m not sure how long she’s been listening.
‘It’s school for you if you’re staying on,’ Nell says. ‘We can’t have you lounging around here all day.’
She isn’t serious. Is she?
‘But I’ve brought schoolwork with me. I’ve got loads to do,’ I say.
She raises her eyebrows. ‘There’s a school in the next town. I’ll make enquiries. It’ll do you good.’
‘No it won’t,’ I tell her. The thought of facing a class full of strangers makes me feel ill. Today at the shop was bad enough.
Nell refuses to have any of it.
‘When sorrows come, young lady, they come not as single spies but in battalions.’
If that’s meant to make me feel better, it doesn’t. Nor does the fact that Nell hasn’t even asked how her sick grandson is.