My Friend Walter (6 page)

‘I suppose so, but we'd better not pinch his rod again, that's all,' I said. ‘I'll see if I can borrow Father's for you from time to time if you want. He likes me to go fishing – he won't mind.'

Walter became suddenly thoughtful. He looked out across the fields to the hills beyond and patted Sally's neck. ‘I think I shall not be fishing for some time, cousin,' he said. ‘There is somewhere I have to go. There is something that must be done.'

‘What do you mean? Where are you going?' I asked, but he never replied. I thought he had not heard me. ‘Will you be gone for long?' I asked.

‘Fear not, dear Bess,' he said, putting his arm around me. ‘I shall be back and soon. You can count on it.'

Looking back now I should have foreseen what would happen. The very next day Sally went missing. Gran was the last to see her. She had seen her first thing in the morning when she went to fill up her water bucket as usual. (Gran loved Sally, and in spite of her creaky knees always took it upon herself to look after Sally in the summer time. She said the regular exercise would do her good). I did not know anything about it until the afternoon when I came back from the dentist with Mother. There was a police car in the yard. Father broke the news. ‘Sally's disappeared,' he said. ‘She's worth over a thousand pounds to me, that mare. It's a
sound fence, I tell you. She couldn't have got out, not on her own. She's been taken, I know she has.'

‘What, in broad daylight?' said the policeman, who looked hot in his uniform and kept wiping his neck with his handkerchief. ‘Hardly likely, sir.'

‘There's been no one here most of the day. Would've been easy,' Father went on.

‘Well of course we'll keep an eye out for her, sir,' said the policeman, ‘but I think you'll find she'll come trotting up the road before the evening's out. P'raps someone left the gate open.' And everyone looked at Gran who was almost in tears.

But Sally never did come home that evening, nor the next, nor the next. Of course I knew who'd taken her. I went out around the farm coughing for Walter. I even risked shouting for him. But I knew it was no good even as I was doing it. I went everywhere we'd been together, into the tractor sheds, down to the river, along the marsh field, into the meadow; but he'd gone and I knew well enough who he'd taken with him on his travels.

No one actually blamed Gran, not in so many words, but the trouble was no one had seen a van or a horsebox coming up the farm lane that day and the
field did not open out on to the road. It was difficult to see how Sally could have been stolen without someone seeing something, and if Sally had not been stolen, there could only be one other explanation. Somehow the gate must have been left open. But then, as Father said, someone must have shut it because he'd found the gate closed. Horses don't shut gates after themselves, he said. He was still sure she'd been taken.

But Gran blamed herself anyway, whatever anyone said. As the days passed and Sally didn't come back she became more and more upset. Everyone tried to console her, even Father, and he wasn't always that kind to Gran. ‘It wasn't your fault, Gran, I know it wasn't,' I heard him tell her. ‘She's been stolen, must've been: but you never know, they may still find her, she's got a brand on her after all. Don't you worry, Gran.' But Gran shook her head and plunged deeper and deeper into silent misery. Aunty Ellie came in every day and sat by her to cheer her up, but that didn't seem to help much. She wouldn't even eat Aunty Ellie's walnut cake – usually her favourite. She just didn't seem interested in going on living.

It was a fortnight later – the first day of the new school year, I remember – that Gran had one of her
turns and the doctor was called out. He said that if she wasn't any better by the next day then she'd have to go into hospital. That same evening after I'd had my tea I was out picking blackberries in Front Meadow and I heard a horse snorting. I turned around. Sally was standing under the shade of the chestnut tree at the bottom of her field. She was grazing peacefully and hardly bothered to look up as I approached. She had sweated up I noticed, but she was groomed nicely, and when I lifted her feet up I could see that they were picked clean. ‘Where have you been, Sally?' I said.

‘With me,' said a voice from behind. Walter was standing there leaning on his cane, a wicked half-smile on his face. ‘Well, dear cousin, are you not pleased to see me? Have you not missed me sorely?'

My anger boiled instantly and explosively. ‘You steal my father's horse. You go away for days and days without saying a word. Do you know what you've gone and done? You've nearly killed my Gran, that's what you've done. She thought she'd left the gate open by mistake and let Sally out, and now she's had one of her turns worrying about it. You don't
think
! You don't care about other people. It may just be a ghostly game to you and we may be just puppets you play with, but
I'll never speak to you again, never.' I was steamed up and would not stop now. ‘They were right to cut off your head. They were. You can go back to your Bloody Tower and rot there for all I care.' And I ran off.

They thought I was crying with relief when I burst into the house and told them about Sally. They came running out to see for themselves. Walter was nowhere to be seen as Sally came trotting over towards the house to greet us.

But the glad news did not seem to help Gran. That evening she refused her supper again and turned her face to the wall. In the kitchen the five of us sat around the table – even Little Jim seemed quiet and dejected.

‘Can't understand it,' said Father, shaking his head. ‘A horse can't just go off and come back like as if it's been on holiday or something. Can't understand it at all.'

‘You should shoot her,' said Will vehemently.

‘Will!' said Mother.

‘Well, if Gran dies it'll be Sally that killed her,' said Will, wiping away his tears with his grubby hands.

‘Wasn't Sally's fault,' I said, before I could stop myself; and they all looked at me at once. I thought then of blurting the whole thing out, but they'd never
have believed it anyway. Will would have scoffed at me and my Mother and Father would think it was just one of my stories; and it was true, I
was
always telling them stories. They never really believed them and I knew they didn't, but I went on telling them just the same. I wasn't a liar, exactly. I just liked making up stories, and this one they would certainly never believe, not in a million years. Well, who would?

‘If it wasn't Sally that brought on her turn it would've been something else,' said Mother. ‘The doctor says we had to expect this sometime. There's no sense in getting all het up. She won't die, Will. She'll come through it, I know she will.' She gripped Father's hand on the table. ‘She will, won't she?' she said to him, and she buried her head in his shoulder. Father waved us out of the room and we went outside, Will still wiping his eyes. He put his arm around my shoulder. ‘She'll be all right,' he said. ‘She's got to be.' I decided I quite liked my brother after all.

I was lying on my bed before I noticed the note on my bedside table, and on top of it was a small bottle. The writing was difficult to read, the letters tall and regular but strangely formed. I could read it only slowly.

Dearest Cousin,

I have wronged you and your family most dreadfully, and your anger towards me was deserved and your hatred justifiably fierce. I do deserve no better. I ask no pardon, but to say that all I did I did for you as I trust you will one day discover. I pray you make haste to administer the elixir in the bottle to your grandmother. Delay not for I fear she has dire need of it. A few drops in her tea will suffice for a full recovery. Do it now and you will see my time spent collecting plants and herbs and all the hours in your brother's laboratory were not entirely wasted
.

Your humble and most affectionate cousin,
W.R
.

The liquid in the bottle was of a dark, mushy green colour, as much like pond water as anything else. I did not think twice about it. I put it at once into my skirt pocket and made my way along the corridor to Gran's room. I went on tip-toe as the kitchen was right below, and I could hear Mother still sobbing quietly and Father trying to comfort her.

Gran lay propped up on a bank of pillows, her face as white as her hair. Her eyes were closed. The tea was
still warm in the cup by her bed. She had not drunk any. As I tried to release a few drops the bottle trembled in my hand and too much came out all at once.

‘Come on, Gran,' I whispered, shaking her shoulder gently. Her eyes opened. ‘You've got to have a cup of tea. You know you like a nice cup of tea.' She shook her head. ‘It'll do you good. I made it specially for you. “Waste not, want not”. That's what you always tell me, remember.' A suggestion of a smile moved her lips and that was enough to encourage me. I put my arm around her neck and helped her to drink it down. She spilt some down her nightie, but she took almost half a cup before she fell back against the pillows. ‘That was nice, dear,' she said. And she closed her eyes again. I left her and went back to my bedroom. I opened the bottle and smelt it. It smelt like minty cough mixture. I pondered again and again over the note. I do not know why, but I had absolute and complete faith in my friend Walter. I never doubted, not for one minute, that his medicine, his ‘elixir', would work.

It couldn't have been more than an hour later when I heard Gran calling from her room. Will raced along the passage outside my door. Mother and Father were taking the stairs in twos with Humph close on
their heels. By the time I reached Gran's room they were all there. I was not at all surprised at what I saw. Gran was sitting up in her bed, her face still pale but her eyes bright and alert.

‘I had the strangest dream,' she said looking somewhat bemused. ‘There was this old man bending over me. Dressed all in black he was, and with a handsome beard on him. He had earrings just like a pirate. I don't usually like men with earrings. It's not proper. Anyway, he told me I'd be quite all right just so long as I drank a cup of tea; and then he disappeared, vanished into thin air. Then soon after in comes Bess – it was you, dear, wasn't it?'

‘Yes, Gran,' I said.

‘I thought so. And she told me to drink a cup of tea and so I did, and I'm right as rain now.' Mother and Father and Will looked at each other in utter amazement. ‘I could eat a horse,' Gran said, smiling, ‘honest I could.'

‘Sally perhaps?' said Will, and we all laughed or cried – it was difficult to tell which.

Again and again that night I coughed for my friend Walter, so much so that Mother came in to give me some cough medicine in the early hours. ‘You've been
coughing a lot lately,' she said. The cough linctus made me feel very sleepy, but I forced myself to stay awake. I tried calling him softly by name. ‘Walter! Sir Walter!' But he never came. ‘I didn't mean it, Walter,' I said as sleep overcame me. ‘Honest I didn't. Come back, please come back.'

But he never came. I had banished my best friend, my only friend, and I had only myself to blame.

DOCTOR RODERICK CAME FIRST THING THE NEXT morning, an old man with more hair growing out of his ears than on his head.

‘Remarkable,' he said shaking his head as he came downstairs into the kitchen. ‘She's as bright as a button. Quite remarkable.' And he patted me on the head as he passed by. ‘You got her to take a cup of tea, your Mother tells me, Bess.' I nodded. ‘Must've been something you put in it,' he said, and everyone laughed except me. Little Jim squawked in his chair and bit harder on the edge of his bowl. ‘Still teething is he, Mrs Throckmorton?' the doctor asked.

‘He's got six now,' said Mother proudly.

‘Six of his very own,' said the doctor. ‘Well, that's
splendid. Splendid. That's more than I have now, you know. A fine-looking boy you've got there Mr Throckmorton. Make a good farmer by the look of him.'

Father nodded. ‘That's if there's anything left to farm, doctor,' he said.

‘Hard times, eh?' said the doctor.

‘Could be better,' said Father.

‘Still, you've got your health,' the doctor said. ‘And that's the main thing. Without your health you can't do anything.'

‘I suppose so, Doctor,' said Father, but he did not sound convinced. The doctor sat down at the table beside me and wrote out a prescription. ‘She's to take this four times a day, and she's to stay in bed,' he said. ‘And lots more of your tea, Bess. She needs lots of liquids.' I smiled weakly.

‘Bess has got a bit of a cough, Doctor,' said Mother. ‘Been coming on for some time. She was coughing all night last night, weren't you dear?'

‘Better have a look at it then, whilst I'm here,' said the doctor. And he got me to say ‘aaah', and put a lolly stick on my tongue and peered deep into my mouth. He had lots of little purple veins all over his nose. ‘Looks healthy enough to me,' he said after a moment
or two. ‘Need some of your own medicine perhaps, Bess. The dust from the hay I shouldn't wonder. A good cup of tea will help.' He smiled at me. And sure enough his teeth were far too white and too even to be real. I'd never noticed before. Still, I thought, there's not many people who admit to having false teeth. Gran would die if you even mentioned hers.

Father accompanied the doctor to the door. ‘I've got to go to the bank this afternoon,' he said, ‘so I'll pick up the prescription when I'm in town.'

‘Soon as you can,' said the doctor, and he was gone. Mother sent me upstairs a few minutes later with Gran's breakfast tray. As I went past my room I noticed the door was open. I always shut it to keep Humph off my bed. Someone must be in there. I could see a shadow on the floor by the bed. Someone was sitting on my bed. Walter had come back after all! I put the tray down on the floor of the passage and rushed in.