Chapter Three

 

The Company

 

 

Coll was waiting by the entrance to the schoolyard the next morning. A fine misty rain was falling. Mizzle, Sarie called it. Laurel gave up trying to keep her hair from curling into her face and smiled at Coll in greeting.

“Thanks for helping Sarie get the right stuff.” Laurel swung her school kit in front of her.

“Sarie wasn’t ‘zactly sure what was needed.” Coll grinned.

He waved his arm in welcome to someone coming up the road behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see who it was. A small thin girl with long dark hair caught back in a braid joined them on the wet cobblestones by the school entrance. She looked inquisitively at Laurel before she returned Coll’s grin.

“All right are ‘ee?” She said in greeting.

“I’m pretty fair considering,” Coll answered.

Coll pulled her forward toward the new girl. “This is Laurel. You know the one that come to stay with Sarie?”

“I’m Aisling.” The younger girl nodded her head.

She was puzzled when Aisling glanced down the street, apparently looking for something. It was hard to see very far with the mist gathering in the narrow lanes.

“Have you seen Gort this morning?” Aisling asked Coll. “I stopped by his place, but his uncle was teasy as an adder and just growled at me.”

“Not this morning.” Coll looked worried.

“You don’t reckon Stuart and his gang have got hold of him again, do you?”

“Bloody hell, I hope not. Last time it was all I could do to stop him from running away.” Coll swore.

“You mean the same Stuart from the train?”

“The same.”

A high thin wail followed by laughter sounded behind a tall stone wall a few yards from where they stood. Coll and Aisling exchanged resigned glances before bolting off toward the noise. Laurel ran after them wondering what small animal was being tormented.

She hoped Stuart was the tormentor; another crack at the big bully would suit her just fine. Aisling and Coll stopped at an opening in the wall leading into a small courtyard and she skidded to halt to keep from pelting into them. A group of six or seven older kids filled the cramped area. The girls stood off to one side, making rude comments she didn’t understand. Four big boys gathered around something on the ground making the pitiful sounds. It was like the desperate cries of kittens abandoned by their mother.

The bully she recognized from the train turned at the sound of their feet on the cobblestones, a nasty smile on his face as he stood looking at Coll. Stuart smacked his fist into the palm of his other hand. Coll shifted uneasily but didn’t give ground. Beside him, Aisling tightened her grip on her school bag.

“Let him alone,” Aisling said fiercely.

“You gonna make me?” Stuart asked menacingly.

Coll stepped in front of Aisling. “Try picking on someone who’s at least half your size.”

Oh, my God! That’s a kid on the ground. Bile rose in her throat. Blood ran from his nose in vivid contrast to his white face, and there was a bruise on his chin. The boy’s eyes were wide and terrified. The high thin sounds coming from his throat sent chills up her back. Stuart hasn’t seen me yet! Laurel looked around for something to use to defend her friends; she grabbed a heavy blackthorn walking stick leaning against the wall by the gate. Clutching it in her fingers she started forward not sure if her hands were shaking more from fear or anger.

Stuart started for Coll, his cohorts following close behind him. Laurel swallowed hard as Coll brace himself for the fight.

Aisling surprised her by smiling fiercely, feral lights glittering in her dark eyes.

She appeared focused on getting Gort out of there, no matter what it took. Laurel barreled around the end of the wall into the tiny courtyard. “Coll, duck,” she hollered as she swung the heavy stick with all her might. Coll’s eyes widened with surprise and fear, and he dropped under the swishing arc of the stick. Stuart was caught by surprise, and the heavy wood connected with the side of his jaw. He dropped like a sack of hammers.

Seeing her opening, Aisling darted in to stand over Gort, and the fight was on. The two girls with the gang pulled Stuart out onto the narrow lane while the remaining three boys tried to land punches and kicks on the rescuers.

Aisling stood her ground, swinging her heavy school bag as hard as she could. Coll had a bleeding nose and some scraped knuckles but was managing to hold his own, standing back to back with Aisling. Laurel’s temper ran away with her; she swung the heavy club wildly. Somehow, she managed to actually land some blows. One of the older boys was limping and another cradled his right arm. The club hit his right shoulder, the force vibrating up the wood numbing her fingers. I hope it hurts like hell!

Dimly, she heard voices shouting, and then all the older kids were gone, leaving only Coll and Aisling standing over the huddled figure on the wet flagstones of the courtyard. Breathing heavily, Laurel dropped the walking stick to the ground and moved over to the little group.

“Is he all right? Should we get a doctor?”

She stood uncertainly over Aisling, who knelt on the wet cobblestones and helped Gort to sit up. Using the end of her blouse, Aisling wiped the blood away from Gort’s nose. A thin trickle of blood immediately coursed over his upper lip and down his chin. Coll fished around in his pocket and produced a grimy handkerchief. He handed it to Aisling to help stem the flow of blood. Slowly Gort’s eyes refocused on the world around him. He managed a small smile at Coll and Aisling.

“Thanks for coming to look for me,” Gort said in a wavering voice.

Aisling and Coll each took one of Gort’s arms, helping him to stand up on his shaking legs.

Something was wrong here. Why did Coll and Aisling act like this was an everyday occurrence? Shouldn’t they go and find someone in authority to report what happened? Where do Gort’s parent’s live?

“Should I go look for a doctor?” She remembered seeing a sign for a doctor not too far away.

Gort shook his head. “M-M-M’ unga wond p-p-pay fer un.” Gort’s voice was distorted by the blood from his nose and his rapidly swelling chin, not to mention his stutter.

“Shouldn’t we report what happened to the police?”

Coll grunted in his throat. “No point in that. Stuart’s dad is the head of the constabulary. Won’t believe a word we say.”

“It’ll all turn out to be our fault. Stuart will say Gort tripped and fell because he’s so clumsy, and we’re all just trying to make trouble for Stuart to embarrass his dad,” Aisling said in disgust.

Laurel started to launch into a protest but was interrupted by a rough voice behind her.

“Here now, what’s going on here? Shouldn’t you young’uns be in class?” A large man in a uniform blocked the door of the little courtyard. A short club swung menacingly in his right hand. “You bin fighting again?”

“No sir, Gort just had one of his fits on the way to school, we’re just helping him,” Aisling lied, looking the constable straight in the eyes.

Laurel caught sight of Coll vigorously shaking his head. “Shut your trap,” he mouthed at her. Against her better judgment she closed her lips and waited to see what would happen next.

Coll slipped out of the courtyard as the constable took a step closer to Gort and Aisling. Once he was clear of the wall, he raced off down the rain-slick, narrow street.

“Old Joseph called to say kids was fighting in his yard again.” The constable eyed the girls suspiciously. “Who are you anyways? You new in town?” He addressed Laurel directly.

“I’m staying with Sarie Waters,” she answered, barely polite.

“Joseph must have heard Gort having his fit and just thought we were fighting,” Aisling said quickly.

Gort nodded his head; avoiding looking directly at the constable. Aisling steered him towards the exit to the lane. Laurel hoped fervently Coll would get back from wherever it was he ran off to.

“What’s Daniel gonna say about this, young lad?” the constable said in a threatening voice.

The thin boy flinched at the mention of his uncle. Face twisted in a rictus of terror, his gaze flew to the policeman’s face. His legs shook so hard he would have fallen if Aisling hadn’t held him up.

“D-d-d-don’t t-t-tell him, p-p-p-lease.”

A smug smile spread across the large man’s face. “Well now, I’m thinking mayhap if you come clean out my chicken shed next weekend, I might forget to mention this unfortunate situation to Daniel.” The constable fixed Gort with a gimlet eye.

“Now, Ted I don’t think that’s really necessary; do you?” Emily spoke from the gateway to the courtyard. She stared hard at the constable. “Threatening youngsters isn’t very becoming to a man in your position is it?”

“Just see it doesn’t happen again,” the constable growled as he left the courtyard with a last fierce look at Gort.

Aisling smiled in relief. Emily picked Gort up like he was a toddler and threw the tail of her long cloak around him to keep off the rain. Slowly, she led the quiet group back to her house. Soon they were all sitting in Emily’s small, cozy kitchen drinking hot chocolate and warming their cold hands by the fire in the hearth. Emily cleaned Gort’s face and applied antiseptic to the cuts. Laurel regarded Gort thoughtfully over the rim of her cup. With his thin pinched-looking face and wild hair, he resembled pictures of homeless children in an old Charles Dickens’ book. Without the unfocused look of terror twisting his features, Gort was kind of cute in a waifish, lost puppy sort of way. Aisling sat close beside him, fussing over him like a mother hen.

“I told you to wait for me this morning,” Aisling scolded Gort.

“Had to get out early. Uncle Daniel was right ugly this morning.”

“So instead of getting your ears skinned by Daniel’s caterwauling, you decided to let Stuart and his mates have a go at you instead.” Aisling’s voice was acerbic with disgust.

“Wasn’t ’zactly my original plan.” Gort grinned at Aisling from under the tangle of his hair.

“Come here next time,” Emily said gently and laid her hand on Gort’s thin shoulder.

Gort looked at Laurel directly for the first time since his unlikely rescue. His smile lit up his thin face and she smiled in return.

“A right proper job you did swinging that blackthorn club,” Gort enthused. “I could hardly believe my eyes when you clocked Stuart in the jaw!”

“Uhmm, yeah, I don’t suppose we could like, not mention that part to Sarie?” Lord only knows what Dad will say if he hears about this.

“Not tell Sarie what?” Sarie said from the doorway of Emily’s kitchen.

Laurel twisted around so fast she spilled hot chocolate down the front of her blouse. Setting her cup on the floor by her chair, she crossed the small room to grab Sarie’s hand.

“Please Sarie, don’t tell Dad. He’ll tell Mom, and she’ll be disappointed in me, and Dad will yell at me for sure. He probably won’t even need to use the phone. I’ll hear him all the way from home.”

“Well, from what Emily tells me, things taint going ‘zactly as they should this morning. I think we could just tell your dad you helped a friend out of jam if the subject comes up.” Sarie squeezed her hand.

Laurel returned to her chair beside Coll and picked up the cup of hot chocolate Coll refilled for her. Sarie settled into the big rocking chair across from them and surveyed the little group with her piercing blue eyes missing nothing. Sarie exchanged a long look with Emily and then sighed.

“Gort, my son, what are we to do with you?” Sarie said in gentle exasperation.

“Same as always, patch me up and send me back out into the world.” Gort grinned.

“I spoke to Ted on the way over. I don’t think Stuart will be bothering you for a bit. Seems he’s going to need surgery to fix his face and replace a few back teeth.”

Laurel’s face blanched, and her heart thumped loudly in her ears. The town constable’s kid needs surgery because of me. Dad is going to kill me, let alone what Stuart’s dad has the power to do to me.

“How much trouble am I in?”

“Ted and I had a rather heated discussion about the outcome of Stuart’s latest stunt. I reminded him about the dental bills I had to foot the last time Coll stepped in to stop Stuart beating on Gort. And about the visit from Aisling’s mom regarding the torn dress and the lost school bag the time before that. Once Ted cools Angela down and makes her see Stuart isn’t the angelic altar boy she thinks he is, everything will blow over.” Emily smiled at Laurel.

Coll and Aisling whooped with delight, and Gort joined in somewhat gingerly due to his sore face. Laurel collapsed back into her chair and started to breathe normally again. Coll thumped her on the shoulder, and Aisling hugged her in delight.

“We’re the Three Musketeers,” Coll cheered.

“Except now there are four of us,” Gort pointed out.

“Well, we can be The Company of Four, just like in the book I read last week,” Aisling decided.

“Or we could be The Stuart Bashers,” Coll offered.

Emily coughed, and Sarie hooted with laughter. Laurel was a little uncomfortable at the mention of Stuart and bashing in the same sentence.

“Let’s not rub Ted’s nose in it, or Angela’s for that matter,” Emily said.

“Or Stuart’s,” Gort said softly.

“I totally agree; let’s stick with Company of Four,” Laurel added her voice to the discussion.

“The Company of Four it is then,” Coll agreed

“We’ll have lots of adventures this summer.” Aisling smiled at Laurel. “It’ll be a welcome change to have some more female input when we disagree.”

“Ash, you know you always win anyways,” Gort teased her gently.

“That’s only because I’m usually the one talking sense,” Aisling said tartly.

Judging by the interchange, it sounded like her new friends would be willing to help out on her quest. It would certainly be an adventure. The biggest problem was how to bring up the subject of the Lady in Sarie’s gully. Maybe nobody will believe me. They’ll think I’m crazy and make fun of me.

Once the hot chocolate pot was empty, Emily tucked Gort into the spare bed in Coll’s room upstairs to rest for the afternoon. Afterwards, Sarie escorted the other three children back to school.

Laurel and Coll were in the same class. She was very self-conscious as she settled into her desk trying to ignore the stares from the other kids in the room. The girl in the desk across the aisle glared at her and pointedly turned away, the curtain of her long blond hair falling across her face.

The boy behind Laurel whispered in her ear, “That’s Stuart’s sister, watch your step around her.”

Laurel nodded her head slightly so the boy would know she heard. Great, just great, another person who doesn’t like me. At the rate she was going more than half of Penzance would be hating her by suppertime. I just want to go home!

Laurel and Coll walked together to the last class of the day. At the door to the classroom, a girl tugged on her arm. She turned sharply to face her, not knowing what to expect. The girl had long chestnut hair, and looked oddly familiar.

“I wish you’d hit him harder. Stuart, I mean,” the girl whispered fiercely, while looking quickly over her shoulder. “He’s just plain mean. I hate him!”

Then she whisked past them into the classroom. Laurel exchanged a startled look with Coll, who shrugged and led the way into the class.

Coll whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “That was Lily, Stuart’s cousin. Her mom is the teacher.” Coll indicated the woman at the head of the class with a quirk of his eyebrow. Her heart sank. Is Stuart related to the whole stinking town?

Fortunately, the rest of the day passed quickly, and Aisling joined them as they clattered down the stone steps of the school. A small woman in a fit of agitation waited at the foot of the stairs. She pounced on Aisling and holding her firmly by the hand started to lead her away, talking fiercely all the while. She stopped momentarily to catch her breath and glare at Coll. Aisling took the opportunity to wave and cast her eyes heavenward. Coll grabbed Laurel’s hand and dragged her away as fast his legs would take him. Once they were a safe distance from the school, he slowed down.

“Aisling’s mom was right teasy. Ted or Angela must have been over to her place this afternoon.” Coll stopped to lean on the stone wall of a building in the narrow lane.

“Is she always that crazy? Aisling seems so calm and normal.”

“Aisling’s mom doesn’t ’zactly agree with her choice of friends. Gort’s uncle is the town drunk; I’m the local hedge witch’s grandson and now you,” Coll laughed.

“What’s wrong with me? She doesn’t even know me.”

“But you’re living with Sarie, the local witch, who is known to keep company with fairies and piskies and such like,” Coll grinned at her. “And now you’ve beaten up on the town constable’s bully of a son and gotten away with it. You might even rank lower than me in Alice’s book. I may actually have risen up a notch in life.”

“Sarie’s a witch?” Dad so does not know that. But, she was sure her Mom knew and approved of Sarie.

“That’s so,” Coll confirmed. “I thought you knew.” He looked puzzled.

Laurel shook her head as she started to walk down the street toward Emily’s. Coll pushed away from the wall and hurried to catch up with her.

“You mean like, a witch witch? Casting spells and stirring crappy stuff in big pots?”

“Never seen her do anything with pots. She does observe the old holy days though,” he replied.

“So, is she a good witch or a bad one? Can she put a hex on those kids that ganged up on Gort?”

“Good witch, I think. People ’round here respect her but they ain’t afraid of her. You’re not going to tell Sarie I told you, are you?” Coll looked worried.

They continued walking in silence for a few minutes. “It makes sense now, I couldn’t figure how the Lady could hang around Sarie’s spring and her not know about it.” Now seemed as good a time as any to bring up the subject of her encounter in the gully.

“You’ve met the White Lady of the Spring?”

“Have you?” Laurel answered his question with one of her own.

“No, but I’ve heard stories about her,” Coll said hesitantly. “Have you really seen her?”

She hesitated. The White Lady didn’t say that meeting Her was a secret, and She did tell me to get help from my friends to solve the riddle. Isn’t this just the opening I need to tell Coll about the riddle and get him to agree to help? If he agrees, I’m sure Gort and Aisling will help too. That was if Aisling could ever escape the clutches of her over protective mother again. She caught Coll’s arm just as they reached Emily’s front door. He stopped and waited.

“I’ll explain everything once we see Gort. I need to tell both of you, so it’ll be easier to tell you together. I can tell Aisling later, when we see her.”

Coll nodded before he pulled open the door and stepped inside. They went down the hall into the kitchen where Emily was boiling some fish on the cooker. Gort was sitting in a large armchair pulled up by the hearth with a crocheted rug wrapped around him.

“Some people will do anything to get out of going to school,” Coll said as he flopped down into the matching Morris chair on the other side of the hearth. Laurel perched on the overstuffed ottoman between them.

Gort grinned and shrugged. The dark blue-black circles under Gort’s eyes didn’t look as bad as before. The haunted fey expression had left his features, and his thin face was quite handsome in a fragile kind of way. The long thin nose under high arched brows seemed to have quit bleeding. His lips were still swollen from Stuart’s earlier pounding, although the line of his full sensitive mouth was clearly visible. Dark hair fell over Gort’s forehead like the heavy forelock of the Fell ponies. Even though the rest of the boy was warmly wrapped in Emily’s afghan, Laurel could still see his slight form curled up on the wet cobbles of Old Joseph’s courtyard. He probably wouldn’t come much higher than her nose if they stood face to face, but she sensed a deep well of courage buried deep inside. The fire popped and crackled, startling her out of her thoughts.

“I rang Sarie and told her I would feed you and take you home later,” Emily came around the counter from the kitchen as she spoke.

Emily motioned for Coll to set up the small folding tea trays in front of the chairs pulled close to the fire. Emily set the plates full of boiled fish and potatoes with tinned tomatoes on the trays. Bustling back into the kitchen for the teapot and large pottery mugs, Emily gathered everything they needed and sank into her chair with a sigh.

“I haven’t managed to scare Daniel up yet. Somebody mentioned he might have gone to Paul for the day,” Emily told Gort.

“That’s not such a bad thing,” Gort grinned. “He’s going to skin me when he finds out I’ve annoyed Ted and Angela.” The grin faded as Gort thought about the inevitable outcome of Stuart’s day’s work.

“Why don’t you leave and live somewhere else?” Laurel asked. The idea of staying with someone who was mean to you didn’t make sense.

“It’s not so easy,” Gort said quietly.

Emily caught Gort’s eyes and held them for an instant. Gort nodded his head in resignation.

“She’s one of us now. Laurel might as well know how it stands with Uncle Daniel.” Gort spoke to Emily over the hiss and crackle of the fire as some rain found its way down the chimney.

“Daniel is Gort’s dad’s brother. There were never two brothers so different from each other as those two. Brian, Gort’s dad, worked hard and never touched the drink. Daniel was a hell raiser from the time he was fourteen, drank and ran with the rough crowd, never worked if he could help it.” Emily paused to drink her tea. “There was no other family. Eileen, Gort’s mom, came from Ireland, and her family never forgave her for marrying out of her faith. So when Brian and Eileen were killed in the car crash, and the will was read, there it was. Daniel is to take care of Gort until he’s of age, and to help him, there is a monthly stipend paid to Daniel in return for his trouble. Luck be to the angels, Daniel can’t touch the bulk of Gort’s inheritance, but he certainly can, and does, carouse away the monthly stipend.”

“Can’t somebody do something? You and Sarie look after Gort way more than his uncle does.”

“The lawyer Brian used is a brother of Daniel’s best friend and a cousin of Ted’s. Brian never thought Daniel would misuse Gort the way he has. Brian always was one to look for the best in a person, and Daniel exploited that,” Emily explained.

“Complaining only gets me worse treatment,” Gort broke in. “Don’t try to fix anything.”

It seemed trying to make things better would only make it worse. Laurel resolved to talk to Aisling about it the first chance she got.

They cleared away the dishes and replaced the little folding tables against the wall. Emily looked out the rain-streaked window into the back garden as she wound a pink shawl around her head and shoulders.

“I’m off to see if I can scare up your uncle, Gort.” Emily headed down the tiny hall to the front door.

“With any luck you won’t find him,” Gort muttered under his breath.

“Why does she bother?”

“So Daniel can’t say Emily is trying to poison Gort against him. He tried to get Ted to enact some kind of by-law or something forbidding Gort from having anything to do with anyone Daniel thinks is unsuitable,” Coll told her.

“That’s why Emily will go to my house and leave another note on the table telling Uncle Daniel where I am. Then she’ll go the constable’s office, have it on record she tried to contact Daniel and inform them of my whereabouts,” Gort said wearily. “I don’t know why Uncle Daniel bothers. He could keep the money and all, if he would just leave me alone and let me stay with Emily. He just enjoys causing trouble, meaner than a snake he is.”

Coll suddenly brightened. “Gramma will be gone for a while. Remember you said you’d tell me and Gort about the White Lady when we were alone.”

“You saw Sarie’s White Lady?” Gort asked, his eyebrows arching in amazement. “I thought Aisling was making that story up.”

“Aisling’s seen her? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t know.” Coll raised his hands protectively.

“Tell us what happened.” Gort leaned forward transparently eager to forget about his aches and pains and Uncle Daniel.