The Golden Maze (15 page)

A faint sound replied and he turned to look at Cindy.

"I think we've found her already. You wait here," he ordered, and broke down some of the long bracken. "I'm coming ..." he shouted. Then he vanished into the dark opening of the cave.

Cindy waited. All was still. She wondered if she should follow him into the cave, but then, if he didn't come out, who would there be to tell Peter? She decided to wait as Mr. Fairhead had said.

Then she heard shouts from above and she made out Peter's tall body leaning over a boulder and looking down.

"We think we've found her ... in the caves !" Cindy shouted.

"Tell Luke to stay out. He's too fat !" Peter yelled back. But it was too late !

It was five or more minutes before Peter and Paul Stone slid to the ground by her side. Paul, grumbling under his breath, dived into the cave. Peter looked at Cindy.

"Give me your word you won't go in?" he said curtly.

Something seemed to snap inside her. "What's the good, when you think me a liar?"

His hands closed on her arms and he shook her. "Look, cut out this childish nonsense. I do not think you're a liar. If you go in there . . . Look .. ." he began again. "It can be pretty dicey in these caves. If none of us get out you'll have to call for help. If you're in as well, no one will know. Is that clear?"

"Yes, that's clear. I give you my word," she said. "But, Peter ..." her voice shook a little, "be careful, won't you ?"

He gave her a strange look. "Of course I will."

Then he le
t go of her and pushed his way through the bracken into the cave. Cindy stood trembling. Three men and Yvonne in there. Why were they so long? Surely the caves weren't so big .

And then Luke Fairhead came out, scrambling on his knees. He stood up, brushing down his corduroy breeches and smiling at her.

"It's all right. She was caught in a narrow turn. Silly young fool, she shoulda known better."

"Peter ... ?" Cindy asked.

"He's coming. He and Paul are easing her along. Seems she's a bit hysterical-like. Not that I blame her. Fair gives you a fright, stuck in those dark caves."

"Why did she go in there in the first place ?" Cindy asked.

A question that Peter repeated an hour later after they had carried Yvonne to the car, driven her back to the castle and got her propped up in a chair, sipping some brandy.

"Why on earth did you go in alone, Yvonne ?" he asked angrily, impatiently pacing up and down. "Any fool knows these caves aren't safe."

"Well, this fool didn't," said Yvonne. She was apparently over her shock and fear. "I find caves fascinating and when I saw this big cave with the high roof, I thought I could squeeze round the corner. I was too fat . .." She looked at her watch. "You left it pretty late, Peter," she said accusingly. "Why didn't you come and look for me before?"

"Hadn't a clue where you were. I thought you might have sneaked off for lunch with David," he grinned. "Then Mrs. Stone told me you'd gone for a walk down the garden and I thought maybe you'd got down to the lake, decided to have lunch there."

"A fine story !" Yvonne's eyes were angry. "I suppose the truth is you just couldn't be bothered."

"Why should I be bothered, Yvonne? You're not a child. I credited you with enough sense not to do such a crazy idiotic thing. What were you looking for in those caves?" -

Yvonne looked startled. "Looking for . ? Why ... well, nothing really. I just find caves fascinating and . .."

Cindy slipped out of the room, unnoticed. Obviously they were about to start another of their friendly 'quarrels' and she wanted to have nothing to do with it.

At dinner, the quarrel seemed to have been over and forgotten, for When Cindy joined them in the drawing-room for a drink, Peter was telling Yvonne about the castle. He looked up with a smile when Cindy arrived.

"You might be interested in this, too, Cindy," he said as he went to pour her out a drink. "Yvonne asked me when and why the castle was built." He gave Cindy the glass and sat down by the huge log fire: "It was some time in the eighteenth century that a man called Penn lived in the village. He was a farmer and through clever breeding and a stroke of luck, his sheep were exceptionally good and bought by people from overseas who were building up their farmlands. He did well and fell in love with a girl

of a good family who also happened to be wealthy. Penn felt ashamed, for he. had so little to offer her save money, so he had the castle built, copying some famous castle—which one, I've no idea. He hoped it would make the world treat him as an aristocrat. I don't know if it worked. Anyhow, years later a Penn married a Baxter, and that's how we got here. Actually Caterina—a local gipsy, you'll probably see —she tells fortunes !—she has it that the castle is cursed because its women have · been so timid. The Mrs. Penn I was talking about is said to have been timid as a mouse and so was the Penn daughter who married a Baxter." He gave a little grunt. "So was my mother, another quiet little mouse."

Yvonne laughed. "Would you like a quiet ,little mouse for a wife, Peter ?"

"Most certainly not," he said, getting up to refill the glasses. "It would be intolerably boring."

Cindy looked at Yvonne, who smiled at her. Yvonne looked pleased with herself, Cindy thought. One thing, when Peter married Yvonne, he would not be married to a quiet little mouse, so perhaps the legend of the family curse would end?

When Cindy woke up next day, she was amazed at the rain which was coming down heavily. The clouds seemed to have split and it was hard to see the lake even as the mist curdled and then cleared for a moment before shutting out the view again. She dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. It was the same on every side. The dales looked black as tar and the whipping wind was tossing the peaceful lake, forcing the water up in the air in waves. She was glad to see Mrs. Stone had lit fires in both

the dining-room and drawing-room, for it was bitterly cold.

Yvonne was irritable. "It would rain now, just when I'm getting somewhere !"

Peter looked interested. "Somewhere?"

"Yes, this mysterious path that no one seems to know about or where it is. It must be somewhere and I'm determined to find it. How long will the rain last?"

"Ask me !" Peter laughed. "It can go on for days or weeks." He smiled at Cindy "Don't look so depressed, I don't think it will. Anyhow I have a lot to discuss with Luke, so see you both at lunch time. Don't go doing too much either of you, because I don't want two invalids on my hands." He smiled and left them.

"Men !" Yvonne said with a sigh. "They treat everything so casually. If they succeed, well, it's their good luck, and if they fail, it most certainly isn't their fault. A woman attacks a problem quite differently. Don't you agree, Cindy ?"

"I honestly don't know. Well, yes, in a way I do agree," Cindy said, remembering how hard she had worked at school and then at shorthand and typing so that she could escape from her unfriendly family.

"Good. We see eye to eye about a lot of things, Cindy, don't we?" Yvonne's smile was so sweet that Cindy felt nervous. Now what was Yvonne planning? It seemed it was nothing, for Yvonne merely announced that she had letters to write and would be in the library if anyone came to see her.

That could only be David Baxter, Cindy thought, as she curled up on the rug before the log fire and

read the newspapers. She was leaning against an armchair and must have dozed off, for she awakened suddenly to a loud voice.

"I said get out and I mean get out ! We don't take tramps in here !"

It could only be Mrs. Stone, Cindy thought at once, and scrambled to her feet. Maybe she needed help.

In the hall, Cindy stopped with surprise. It was no tramp that stood on the doorstep, asking to come in. Two walkers stood there, wearing thick dark blue trousers, bright red anoraks with matching woollen caps and colossal packs on their backs. They were dripping with water and both had long hair that hung over their faces so that you could hardly see their eyes.

"Just to get dry, please," the girl begged, almost in tears.

"You heard what I said, we don't take in tramps any time."

Cindy walked towards the door. "Mrs. Stone, I'm sure Mr. Baxter wouldn't want you to turn them away. Please come in. You poor things, you certainly are wet !"

Mrs. Stone was white with fury. "You've no right ... just you wait !" she mumbled the words, but Cindy gathered that she was furious. Then Mrs. Stone said loudly, her shrill voice echoing in the lofty hall, "All that water on my polished floor ! In any case, we don't want no hippies any time."

The two of them were sliding the huge bundles off their backs and taking off their wet anoraks, shaking the water off them.

They ignored Mrs. Stone and turned to Cindy.

"It began to ,rain just after we started walking. We didn't think it would be much. I'm Martin Haynes, and this is Roxanna Webster."

"I'm Cindy Preston."

Now she could see they were both about her age. Martin might even be younger in his bright yellow shirt and thick white sweater as he tossed back his long brown hair. Roxanna had long black hair that she swept back with a dramatic gesture to smile at Cindy.

"You've saved our lives. I don't think I could have walked another step !"

"Nonsense, Roxanna," Martin said with a smile. Cindy turned to the tall silent angry woman by her side.

"Would you please make some hot chocolate for us all, Mrs. Stone, then could you dry their clothes in the kitchen? Would you take off your boots too ?" Cindy asked the two walkers. "Then come and sit by the fire. You'll soon dry."

Mrs. Stone's mouth was like a tightly-closed purse, but she did what Cindy asked, carried the wet clothes and boots to the kitchen and made them all hot chocolate. Sprawling on the rug by the roaring fire, they chatted.

"I don't know how you can enjoy walking when you have to carry everything ... It must be a weight," said Cindy.

"You get used to it." Martin was warming his fingers by holding the mug in both hands. "Must say it was pretty bad today."

"They did warn us at the hostel, Martin;" Roxanna said gently.

He laughed. "If we took notice of all the weather reports, we'd get nowhere. Must say I didn't think it could be so bad "

"Where are you making for?"

Martin shrugged. "Just anywhere. This is our favourite part of the world, especially in winter when no one's around."

"You know this part well ?" Yvonne asked.

Startled, Cindy turned round, for she hadn't heard Yvonne come in. Now Yvonne came eagerly to sit down by them.

"Yvonne, Roxanna, Martin," Cindy quickly introduced them, and stood up. "I'll just go and check that Mrs. Stone is drying your clothes," she promised, and left them alone.

Mrs. Stone was stiff with fury as she let fly at Cindy.

"I have to keep the place clean, and no easy job is it any time and with them dripping water everywhere ! Never did like that kind of hippy. Shouldn't wonder if 'tain't really burglars having a good look-see before breaking in !"

"If they make a mess, Mrs. Stone, I'll clear it up," Cindy promised. "But it's ,such a terrible day. Do you often get it like this?"

"Any
time it comes down like so and
stays for days, even weeks," Mrs. Stone looked almost triumphant. "How long will you be here ?"

"Only until my car is repaired." Cindy looked out of the kitchen window at the grey curtain of misty

rain. "Though I can't see myself driving through this sort of weather."

Mrs. Stone was busy at the stove, stirring something. Now she looked up. "When will she be going?" Mrs. Stone jerked her head and Cindy knew she could only mean Yvonne.

"I don't know." Cindy hesitated, and Mrs. Stone put Cindy's thoughts into words.

"Maybe she won't ever go now ?"

"Well, I honestly don't know." Cindy wandered round the kitchen. "You see, I don't really know either of them, Mrs. Stone. What a gorgeous smell ! You really are a wonderful cook."

Mrs. Stone sniffed. "Have to be when you've a living to make and a son to rear. 'Twasn't easy when my husband died and I had a child and never'd done nothing but housework. Mr. Baxter . . . Mr. Robert Baxter, that is, he gave me this job. I knew 'twould be hard work, but I didn't mind. We had a home and ... I thought," she added bitterly, "a future."

Cindy hesitated. Should she stay and let Mrs. Stone weep on her shoulder? Or .. .

The bell above the kitchen door rang. Mrs. Stone hastily wiped her hands, pulled her apron straight.

"That front door," she grumbled. "Maybe life'd be easier working in a house rather than t'castle."

Joining the others in the drawing-room, Cindy found Yvonne enthralled with what Martin was saying. He was leaning back on his han
ds, his long hair swinging as h
e talked dramatically. Roxanna stood up and went to meet Cindy.

"Do you think I could have a quick bath?" she