The bus drops me in the village. From here, it takes just under fifteen minutes to reach Darkling Wood on foot. I can’t decide if I want to rush home to see what’s happened or to walk extra slowly. Either way, I’m sick with nerves.
I’m halfway up the hill when Mr Giles’s jeep comes tearing down it. He’s driving so fast it almost knocks me into the hedge.
‘Road hog!’ I shout after him.
He must’ve come from Nell’s, I realise, and it makes my stomach leap. I can’t bear not knowing any longer. I have to see what he’s done – or not done – to the trees. I start running. I don’t stop till I’ve reached Darkling Wood.
At first glance, nothing’s changed. I gasp with relief. The trees are still here, pressing tall and dark around the house. Something’s been cut, though, because there’s sawdust on the grass like a sprinkling of snow.
Then I see it.
It’s happened to the two trees nearest the house. Right near the top on each one there are gaps where branches used to be. It’s clear as anything – the cut bark stands out orange against the trunk. On the ground underneath, the branches lie in a mangled heap.
A new whoosh of sickness comes over me. The magic wasn’t strong enough, after all. Mr Giles came here today and started work. Despite everything, we couldn’t save Darkling Wood.
‘The tree surgeon chap’s just been called away.’
I spin round to see Dad coming towards me across the lawn. He looks tired. Pale. He really needs a shave.
‘How’s Theo?’ I ask, heart in mouth. ‘Is he any better?’
‘He is,’ says Dad.
‘Better than when we spoke this morning?’
‘I think so. They’ve upped his medication. It seems to be working.’
I breathe normally again. This is very good news.
‘Poor Mr Giles, though – his son has just had an accident,’ says Dad. ‘He fell off his bike, apparently.’
The sick feeling lands back in my stomach.
‘Max? But I only saw him half an hour ago!’
‘Don’t look so upset, Alice,’ Dad says. ‘It didn’t sound life-threatening.’
I forget all about Max being on his phone now. I’m worried. If he rides a bike like his father drives a van, it’s bound to be bad.
‘I’ll ask Nell if I can call Mr Giles,’ I say, turning for the house.
Dad stops me with a hand on my arm. ‘I’m sure it’s not serious. Let Mr Giles get home to his son first.’
‘He’s called Max,’ I say.
Dad smiles. ‘Is he a friend from school?’
I nod.
‘Then you’d better call this Max tonight, if you can last that long.’
My face goes hot at Dad’s teasing. But he’s quickly serious again.
‘Walk with me for a bit?’ he says.
‘All right.’
Sidestepping the cut-down branches, we enter the wood. Soon the pile of branches will be bigger. There’ll be more lopsided trees. More orange scars.
Or will there?
Not if Mr Giles gets called away again. Not if Dad’s here long enough to talk to Nell. I don’t want Max to be hurt, and yet I feel a flicker of hope. Theo’s getting better. The woods aren’t gone yet. I think the fairies’ magic is still working.
Only maybe now they need a little help.
I stare at Dad’s back, up ahead on the path. It’s now or never. I grit my teeth.
‘Nell told me what you did,’ I say.
Dad turns his head slightly: he’s listening.
‘Taking your brother’s ashes was a rubbish thing to do, Dad.’
He clears his throat.
‘You must’ve had a reason. What did Nell do to you?’
He stops. Turns to look at me. ‘What are you talking about, Alice? Who says she did anything?’
‘She does.’
‘Then ask her. I’m sure she’ll be happy to fill you in.’
‘She says I should hear it from you.’
Dad rolls his eyes. ‘Drop it, will you?’
‘Nell says that would be letting you off the hook.’
He laughs, but not in a funny way. Then he looks skywards. At the ground. Anywhere rather than at me.
‘I can’t talk about it. Not now this has happened with Theo.’
‘Theo? What the heck does you stealing your brother’s ashes have to do with him?’
‘Leave it, Alice.’
Dad starts walking again, faster now, hands stuffed in his pockets. I go after him. I’m not leaving anything. No way.
‘If this is about Theo then I’ve a right to know!’ I say.
No answer.
‘Dad! You can’t just bring Theo up, then leave it dangling. That’s really not fair!’
Dad charges on ahead through branches and brambles that flick back into my face. The path takes a sharp left. There are trees on either side of us. Big, strong, towering trees. And I know I should be glad they’re still here, that Mr Giles hasn’t got this far, but all I can think of is what Dad’s just said.
We end up at the beech tree. I’m not exactly surprised. This is Flo’s special tree, and after last night I suppose it’s mine. Only it won’t be anyone’s special tree for much longer, not unless we finish this.
Dad rests his hand on the trunk.
‘Jacob died falling from this tree,’ he says.
Jacob: he’s a real person to me now, that funny boy in the striped jumper, hanging upside down from a branch.
‘I guessed that,’ I say, though I don’t mention I’ve climbed the tree too – and against Nell’s wishes.
‘He was only eleven. I was older. Old enough to know better.’
‘Nell doesn’t blame you for the accident, Dad.’
Dad’s hand falls to his side. He does another of his not-funny laughs. ‘No, but she never felt the same about this place afterwards. And she does blame me for taking his ashes.’
‘Well, you did take his ashes.’
‘Do you know what she took?’ he says, flaring up. ‘Well? Do you?’
‘No.’ I take a step back. ‘That’s why I asked.’
I’m sensing it’s got something to do with fairies.