Little Girl Lost (44 page)

Maeve crossed the bridge and moved quietly forward through the trees. Her legs were beginning to ache dreadfully but she gritted her teeth and kept on, for she had read the signs – snapped twigs, cart tracks in the dust – and knew that she was nearing the end of her search at last; that was, if Kitty and Nick had really joined up with the tinker band. It seemed unlikely because, from earliest childhood, Kitty had been warned that tinkers were dangerous people, people best avoided, particularly by the young:

It was an old rhyming game, probably a good deal older than the wood through which Maeve was passing, and she was still repeating it beneath her breath when she saw, through the trees, the flames of a camp fire. Immediately, she looked round for good cover and saw a tangle of bushes to her right. Quickly and silently, she slid amongst them until she reached a spot where she was well hidden but could see the encampment clearly. The very quietness and stealth with which even young children went about their various tasks meant that they were up to no good, though she could see no sign of Kitty or Nick.

She had noticed that the camp seemed to consist mainly of women and children and presently understood why, as the men began to return. One or two heaved sacks of peat, others were laden with buckets of milk, hares, rabbits and even hens for the pot. One man carried a fat black and white puppy under each arm; another led a wide-eyed calf. Maeve sucked in her breath at the boldness of it, but then realised that the camp was being dismantled. The tinkers must have been here reconnoitring the land around for several days, finding the weak spots in the local farmers’ defences. One housewife might be careless with her hens, another had not collected the eggs on this particular day. A turf pile could be robbed of the best dry turfs whilst the family slept, and barns could be explored, puppies taken, even a calf detached from its mother, provided it was weaned.

But the tinkers’ thieving, though it distressed her, was not her principal concern, for unless the children were actually imprisoned in one of the caravans she soon saw that Kitty and Nick were not travelling with the band. She had been watching a green and yellow cart since, according to report, they had travelled a good way with such a vehicle. But after a while the door had swung open and a very skinny old lady, helped by a buxom wench in a scarlet shawl, had descended the steps and tottered over to another cart. There had been some conversation which Maeve could not hear and then someone had handed the old woman a clay pipe; someone else had filled it with tobacco and lit it, and the two women had settled down on the caravan steps, both puffing away.

Soon enough, Maeve had seen that each caravan door had been left swinging open long enough to enable anyone inside to escape, had they so wished, and she was certain that even if Kitty and Nick had once been with the tinkers, they were with them no longer.

Her thoughts turned to Brendan. She longed to get up from her crouching position amidst the saplings and go back to tell him that the children were no longer with the band, that they must search elsewhere, but she dared not do so. Now that the tinkers had raided the farms and were clearly about to depart, they had ranged their children all round the camp, looking outward and not inward, so that they might warn their elders of anyone approaching through the thick woodland. Maeve guessed that the children would spot the slightest movement, hear the smallest sound, and resigned herself to remaining just where she was until the band abandoned the camp. Sighing to herself, she realised for the first time that she was both hungry and thirsty, and thought wistfully of the food and drink in the knapsack she had left behind. Then she remembered that without her knapsack she had no money and her eyes filled with tears. Damn, damn, damn! But even hunger was not as bad as the fear that either Kitty and Nick, or Brendan himself, might walk straight in on the tinkers. Maeve dreaded to think what they might do to anyone who caught them red-handed with stolen property.

But there was absolutely nothing she could do about it, so she settled deeper into the undergrowth. She would have loved to go to sleep but was frightened to do so in case she snored, or made some involuntary movement which would give her away. Evening was drawing on and it was noticeably colder. Pins and needles attacked her extremities. Maeve gritted her teeth and clenched and unclenched her fists; soon, the tinker children would leave the clearing in the wake of their elders, and she would be able to stand up and shake the stiffness out of her limbs, and try to make her way back to the boreen and Brendan. Soon it would be over. And suddenly a little glow of warmth within her made itself felt and a small voice spoke in her head:
You’ll find the children today and you’ll find Brendan as well, so stop worrying, it said. You know the kids were with the green and yellow cart which you seen wit’ your own eyes; they can’t be that far away.

One by one, the tinker children were slipping away. Soon, it would be safe to move. Maeve waited.

Chapter Sixteen

‘Run for your life!’

Kitty was so terrified by Nick’s shriek that she actually started to run, but then a quick glance back showed her that Nick, far from following her closely, appeared to be fighting with a huge man who held what looked like a cudgel in one enormous fist. Kitty was no coward and Nick was her best and dearest friend. Without a second’s hesitation she turned and flew back to the fracas. She grabbed the cudgel, then sank her teeth into the hand holding it whilst Nick did yeoman work, kicking the man’s shins and punching anything he could reach, even though the man’s fingers were gripping the neck of his shirt.

‘Leggo me pal!’ Kitty shrieked, as the man dropped the cudgel and tried to grab her as he had already grabbed Nick. ‘Leggo me pal, and me, or – or I’ll fetch the polis!’

The man gave a short laugh. ‘Will you get your perishin’ teeth out of me hand,’ he said, as Kitty snapped at his fingers once more, having been forced to loosen her bite in order to threaten him. ‘I am the polis, or I was rather, and I don’t mean you no harm; it were a case of mistaken identity. I thought you were me pal Maeve Connolly; I didn’t realise there were two of you.’

At the mention of Maeve’s name Kitty stopped biting and Nick stopped kicking and punching. It was dark and they could make out very little of the man’s face, but they could see he was not a tinker. For what tinker would wear a knapsack on his back and carry another slung over his shoulder? There was a moment’s silence as all three stared at one another, then Kitty spoke. ‘Did – did you say your pal were called Maeve Connolly? But if so, where is she? If she’s Maeve Connolly from Handkerchief Alley then – then she’s our pal, too.’

The man began to answer but Nick hushed him impatiently. ‘Who’s you?’ he demanded aggressively. ‘Maeve don’t have no feller and you ain’t an O’Keefe, ’cos I knows ’em all, and so does Kit here.’

The man let out his breath in a long, low whistle. ‘Well if that ain’t the weirdest thing,’ he said in a wondering tone. ‘Here’s me and Maeve trekked halfway across Ireland searching for Kitty and her pal Nick, and I reckon I’ve walked straight into you. Am I right?’

Kitty opened her mouth to assure him that he was right indeed, but Nick pinched her hand warningly. ‘A minute ago you said you were the polis; now you say you’re a friend of our Maeve’s,’ he said gruffly. ‘And I asked you who you were; that means, what’s your name and what are you doin’ here?’

The man sighed. ‘Me name’s Brendan O’Hara, though I don’t suppose it’ll mean much to you,’ he said. ‘And I was in the polis, though I’m not now. And I’m wit’ Maeve, helping her to search for you two, because it’s not right for a pretty young woman to go crossin’ the country without a feller to see she’s not troubled.’

‘Oh,’ Kitty said, digesting this. ‘But where’s Maeve? You said you and she were searchin’ together, so where is she?’

‘We had a bit of a disagreement,’ Brendan said. ‘Sure and it was all my fault, though I meant well, I can promise you that. But she – she took offence and ran off and I’ve been searchin’ for her ever since.’ He grinned at Nick; Kitty could see the flash of his teeth, even in the dark. ‘That’s why I grabbed you, young fellow-me-lad, ’cos I thought you were Maeve.’ He sighed and looked about him. ‘If Maeve hears the row we’ve been making, perhaps she’ll . . . oh, thank God!’

Kitty and Nick turned to follow Brendan’s gaze and saw a slim figure emerging, hesitantly, from the trees. She was too far away to be identified at once but neither Kitty nor Brendan had any doubts. They both ran towards her, but Kitty reached her first, flinging her arms round the older girl’s waist and giving her a hard hug. ‘Oh, Maeve, Maeve, I’m so sorry if you worried when I ran away but I meant to come back when I was old enough to earn me livin’ and I couldn’t bear to be put in an orphanage or to go across the water to that Sylvie woman.’

Maeve cuddled Kitty close for a moment, then kissed the top of her roughly shorn head and held her back. ‘You should have known your Auntie Caitlin better,’ she said reproachfully. ‘She didn’t mean a word of it; she’d never have let you go to an orphanage any more than I would, and as for crossing the water, that’s entirely up to you. But we can’t talk about it now.’ She turned to Brendan. ‘It’s a long way back to the nearest village, and anyway I don’t feel inclined to go knocking on doors when everyone is likely to be abed. What do you think?’

Brendan agreed. ‘There must be a farm not too far distant, because when I was hiding in the wood I saw the tinkers coming back with hens and such that they had stolen. I thought at first that they had just arrived and were making camp, but I soon realised they were moving on because you don’t steal and then sit waiting to be caught. We could try to get a bed there, I suppose – it’s nearer than the village – but I reckon you’re right and everyone in the house will be asleep by now. It’s a fine night. Mebbe sleeping rough, just for the one night, would be best.’

Maeve nodded. ‘I’m agreeable. But Brendan, where
were
you when you were watching the tinkers? I was laid down in a sort of thicket when they were preparing to go, keepin’ an eye on them like, in case Kitty and Nick were being held prisoner. I was too scared to move so much as a muscle because the kids had eyes everywhere. And then I reckon I fell asleep because next time I raised my head and looked, the clearing was deserted.’

Brendan laughed. ‘Isn’t that just the strangest t’ing? I were crouched down behind some blackberry bushes; I got scratched by the thorns and stung by some nettles. Pity I didn’t yell out, then we might have met earlier.’

‘We took a quick peep at them as well,’ Nick said, grinning. ‘I don’t know whether you realise, but we’d been travelling with an old woman in a green and yellow caravan, only she did the dirty on us – sent us off on a wild goose chase, and then lit out with all our belongings, wicked old thief. We didn’t realise the rest of the band were so close, or we’d have taken more care. As it was, we followed in the hope of catching up with Granny Trotter before she reached her pals, but we were too late. So when we came back along the cart track and you’ – he pointed to Brendan – ‘jumped out at us, we thought you were one of the tinkers come to get us.’

‘I’d come to get you all right, even if I didn’t know it,’ Brendan said.

They made their way back along the cart track, and though Kitty did her best to keep up she was beginning to think she would have to admit she could go no further when Brendan, who had been bringing up the rear with Maeve, suddenly said in a low voice: ‘Hang on a minute, you two. There’s a hollow tree not far from here which might do us very well; I’ll show you.’

They followed him into the wood and presently came to a mighty oak. ‘That’s where I stashed our belongings,’ Brendan said, pointing. ‘It’s like a cave, so it is, being hollow, and there’s a heap of dry leaves which you kids can burrow into.’ He looked enquiringly at Maeve. ‘It’s a warm night, alanna. If you and meself wrap up in our blankets and lie within the curve of the hollow, do you reckon you’d be able to sleep?’

‘I could sleep on a clothes line,’ Maeve said. ‘I could do with a drink, though, and a mouthful of bread.’

‘So could I,’ Kitty said, in heartfelt tones, and was delighted when Brendan produced a water bottle, half a loaf of bread, and a chunk of cheese, which he divided into four portions. They took it in turns to gulp down some water, gobbled the food, and settled down. Kitty’s last thought before she fell asleep, Tommy purring blissfully against her back, was that there had been something different about Maeve, but she could not put her finger on it, and slumber claimed her whilst she was still wondering. Soon, all four of them slept.

Now that they had found each other, it took the small company a couple of days to reach a point where they could catch a train back to Dublin. And it was during those two days that the four of them sorted out what had happened and how they meant to behave in the future.

Maeve explained, frankly, that Brendan had pointed out the uselessness of her crutch, had made her see that she had no need of it, could in fact walk better without it. In their turn, Nick and Kitty told of their encounter with Granny Trotter and her horrible nephew, including his unfortunate death, for which they had felt responsible though it had been the man’s own ferocity that had caused his end. Kitty asked, anxiously, whether they should tell anyone, but Brendan thought it was unwise. In fact, he doubted whether the man had suffered anything more than a deep concussion and this cheered both Kitty and Nick considerably.

Brendan asked Maeve which of them should explain to Kitty that they would very much like her to visit her mother in Liverpool, just for a couple of days so that Sylvie could see for herself that her daughter was alive and well, and after a great deal of thought Maeve said, a little brusquely, that she would do it herself since she wanted to make sure that Kitty thoroughly understood the situation and would not be jockeyed into doing something against her inclination.