‘I don’t believe I’m doing very well, am I?’ Nell says at breakfast.
I look up from my toast. This isn’t the telling-off I was expecting.
‘First you roam the countryside at night, then you sneak off to London without a word to anyone. You’ve made it clear you’re not happy here,’ she says.
‘I’m okay.’
‘Are you? When your school phoned yesterday to tell me you were absent, I spoke to your Head of Year, a Mr …’
‘Jennings,’ I say, feeling my stomach start to knot.
‘Yes, Mr Jennings. It was rather awkward, Alice. He said he wasn’t sure you’d settled in very well. And that you’d not done your maths or French homework.’
‘Only once! I always do homework – well, normally.’ I stare miserably at my plate. I don’t know what normal is any more.
‘And,’ Nell continues, ‘he thought there’d been an issue between you and another girl.’
‘Oh. That.’ What she means is Ella. And I’m not sure what to say, especially as the ‘issue’ she’s talking about is Darkling Wood.
‘Are you not happy at school? Is that it?’ asks Nell.
‘School’s all right. But I do miss my best friend from home, Lexie.’
‘Is there no one else to be friends with?’
‘Well,’ I say, thinking of Max. ‘There are some nice people.’
‘And what’s the problem with homework?’
I shrug. ‘I didn’t feel like doing it.’
‘Then that’s not good enough,’ says Nell, quite sharply. ‘Mr Jennings mentioned your attitude. He’s sure it’s due to the stress you’re under, but you’d still better watch yourself, young lady.’
My shoulders tense up. Now we’re getting to the telling-off part.
‘Perhaps I should call your mother and tell her it’s not working out for you here,’ Nell says.
‘Honestly, I’m okay,’ I say quickly.
What I mean is the alternative is worse. I can’t go home or to Lexie’s house. Which leaves Dad. No way am I going to stay with him and Lara, not even if he invites me. Which he hasn’t.
‘I’m not cut out for teenagers,’ says Nell. She’s got that far-off look like she gets when she talks about the trees. ‘I didn’t do so well with my own two.’
At least I think that’s what she says, but then the telephone starts ringing. We both rush for it. Nell gets there first.
‘Bexton 66475?’ she says.
I hover, ready to grab the phone if it’s Mum.
‘I’m aware it’s raining, Mr Giles,’ Nell says, tight-lipped. ‘I’m also well aware that you should have been here half an hour ago.’
I go back to my breakfast, glad the call isn’t for me after all. My head’s still full of flashing red lights and the panic in Mum’s face, and I’m struggling to unthink it. I’ve certainly had my fill of hospitals for a while. I wonder if Dad’s gone back to London today. Or whether he’s had his fill too.
Out in the hallway Nell’s voice gets louder. ‘So you won’t be here on Monday either?’ She sighs angrily. ‘Tuesday, then?’
As I listen, my stomach starts to sink because I’ve guessed Mr Giles must be the tree surgeon.
‘I’ll expect you Tuesday morning, eight o’clock sharp. Are we clear, Mr Giles?’
Nell slams the phone down and storms back into the kitchen. Borage hides under the table, putting his chin on my knee.
‘This is ridiculous,’ she says, sloshing water into the kettle. ‘If that man doesn’t turn up on Tuesday, I’ll do the job myself.’
‘Cut down the trees, you mean?’ I say.
‘Of course I mean cutting down the trees!’ she snaps.
So it’s finally happening. A man is coming to cut down Darkling Wood. I feel suddenly, painfully sad – and something else too, a sort of dread deep inside me.
‘Look at us!’ Nell gestures at the ceiling lights, which as usual are on. ‘We’re living in semi-darkness here! We might as well exist in a cave!’
‘But it’s winter,’ I say. ‘At home we’ve had our lights on a lot too.’
She’s not listening. ‘And that’s without considering the damage those roots are doing to this house. I spoke to the insurance company yesterday; they won’t even insure me any more. So if a tree falls on the house or if my walls start to crack from subsidence, there’s no back-up, no money to cover the costs.’
‘But …’
‘Don’t you see? Those woods have made this house worthless.’ She’s turned her back on me to stare out of the window. Her shoulders are trembling. But I don’t think she’s crying … or is she?
‘Nell?’
‘They’ve got to go.’ Her voice is matter-of-fact. ‘I don’t care if I have to use my bare hands. I want my house to be safe and light.’
She turns round. There aren’t any tears. Her face is bone dry.
‘Those trees are coming down. And that’s final.’
The kettle boils. Nell makes her coffee, scraping her spoon against the cup. It sets my teeth on edge.
‘That Traveller girl you saw the other day in the woods.’
I put down my toast.
‘You did tell her to clear off, didn’t you?’
‘Um … sort of …’
‘Well, she’d better not be anywhere near the place when Mr Giles comes. I mean it – there’ll be falling trees. It’ll be dangerous.’
Under the table, I cross my fingers. ‘If I see her, I’ll tell her. She might still be around, climbing the trees or something.’
‘She’d better not be climbing my trees AT ALL!’ cries Nell, slamming down her cup with such force it makes me jump. ‘She’ll get herself killed!’
Nell’s wrong. There’s no way Flo would fall – it’s almost like she was born to climb trees. But I can’t say this, not without admitting I’m friends with the girl who’s trespassing in her woods.
Nell takes a deep breath. ‘The sooner the wood goes, the better.’
Yet I can’t imagine this place without the trees all around it. I can’t picture Flo anywhere else either. And I think of just how quiet it feels out there in the woods. Fairies or not, it’s a special place.
‘Can’t Mr Giles just … I dunno … trim the branches back?’ I say.
Nell glares at me. ‘Trim? He’s a tree surgeon, not a hairdresser! Good grief, child, you can’t trim roots!’
‘I just don’t see why you have to cut down the whole wood, that’s all,’ I say.
Nell blinks slowly. She takes a slow breath like she’s trying to stay calm. It’s obvious what she thinks of my suggestion.
‘Perhaps I will speak to your mother,’ she says. ‘See if we can get someone to collect you.’
My stomach plummets. ‘I’m not going to Dad’s. So don’t ask him.’
‘There must be someone else who’ll have you.’
‘There isn’t. You’re it.’
We stare at each other for a very long moment.
‘We’ll leave it a few days then,’ she says. ‘But today, young lady, you’re grounded.’
‘What?!’ I sit bolt upright. ‘All day?’
‘Absolutely. No running off anywhere. I want you here where I can keep an eye on you.’
‘But I have to …’ I stop.
‘Yes?’ says Nell, interested. ‘What do you have to do, Alice? Because if there’s a problem I will call your mother.’
I pick up my toast again. ‘Forget it. It’s nothing.’
*
All day, Nell works outside taking down the fence that separates the woods from the garden. And I sit at the kitchen table, trying to read or do school stuff. But really I’m thinking about Flo. Yesterday proved I can’t always help Theo or Mum, but perhaps there’s something we can do about Darkling Wood. Not the fairies business, I mean something real and practical. Sensible. There must be another way to make the trees safe without cutting everything down.
There’s another thing too, niggling in the background like toothache. Normally I’m not one for superstitions, but I can’t shake off what Flo said about revenge.