The Peppermint Pig (14 page)

He said, ‘I might ask you that. Who are you?’ and Poll was so surprised that he didn’t speak in broad Norfolk that she answered at once, and politely.

‘I’m Poll. Poll Greengrass. This summer house belongs to my aunt.’

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Is that who you are?’ and looked her up and down with an amused smile that made her feel oddly uncomfortable. He was looking her over as if he wasn’t a tramp, stealing a night’s lodging, but someone who had as much right here as she had. He
yawned hugely, scratched his beard with the hand that wasn’t holding the knife and the onion, and said, ‘Since you’re here, you can run an errand for me. Go and tell those great idle girls I’d like a good piece of fat belly pork for my breakfast.’

‘D’you mean
Aunt Sarah
?’

‘Harriet will do just as well. Get along with you. Tell ’em I’m hungry.’

She backed away slowly, then ran down the path. She put Johnnie through the gate into his own garden and went to Aunt Sarah’s kitchen. Both aunts were there. She said, uncertainly, ‘There’s a man in the summer house. He says he wants breakfast.’

To her amazement, they took this quite calmly. Aunt Sarah smiled and Aunt Harriet said, ‘Oh, he’s turned up again, has he? I thought it was about time. Last time anyone saw him, it was your father, in London.’

Aunt Sarah said, ‘I believe James set him up for the winter. He’s always been good in that way.’

They both spoke as if it was perfectly natural for an old tramp to spend the night in their summer house and then order his breakfast.

Aunt Sarah rose from the table and went to the larder and Aunt Harriet said to Poll, ‘Go and tell your mother. She might have some things of your father’s he won’t need any more. Tell her a pair of boots would be useful, they take the same size.’

‘Boots for the
tramp
?’

Her aunts looked at each other. Then Aunt Sarah sighed. ‘I suppose that’s what he must look like! Poor Father! He’s your grandfather, Poll. Grandpa Greengrass.’

Poll stared. Aunt Harriet said, ‘What’s that open mouth for? Catching flies, or a bus?’ Poll closed her mouth and her aunt went on, briskly, ‘Since you don’t seem to know, I’d best tell you. Some people are foot-loose and your grandfather’s one. He wanted to be an actor when he was a young man but
his
father said there was no money in that and apprenticed him to a stone mason. But a settled life didn’t suit him, and he took to the road. He’s happy that way and he doesn’t bother us often. That good enough for you?’

Poll swallowed saliva and nodded. Several things that had not made sense before had fallen into place in her mind. Hidden under the table, sent there for naughtiness, she had heard her parents talking about Grandpa Greengrass. He had turned up at Rowland and Son the day the money was stolen and Father had been afraid they would send the police after him because he looked like a tramp so he took the blame on himself. By the time he was sure young Rowland had been the thief, the idea of going off to America had taken root in his mind. Theo had said he wanted adventure but Mother had blamed Grandpa Greengrass. She had said, ‘I knew he’d bring us all down one day’ and when Poll had seen his picture in
the photograph album she had called him an ‘old rascal’.

If she really felt like that, she wouldn’t want to give him Father’s old clothes! More likely, she’d fly into one of her tempers and say, ‘I’ll see him in hell first.’

But in fact she just sniffed when Poll told her and said, ‘Yes of course, poor old fellow,’ and went straight upstairs. Poll waited in the kitchen, listening to drawers being opened and closed overhead, and then Theo came down, a bundle in his arms and a queer grin on his face.

She said, ‘What’s that silly grin for?’ and he put his finger to his lips, warning her.

He was still grinning as he followed her into the garden. As soon as he was sure no one could hear, he said, ‘That’s one thing got rid of! Those ghastly pink vests. I got them out of the camphor chest while Mother had her back turned.’

Poll giggled. ‘They’ll be too small for him.’

‘They’ve stretched, they’ll fit anyone. I hoped I’d grow out of them but they grew
with
me, and when Mother put them away for the summer she said they were good as new. I was scared I’d have to wear them the rest of my life!’

‘Won’t Aunt Sarah be cross?’

‘She hardly can, can she? I’ll tell her I thought my grandfather’s need was greater than mine.’ He stopped grinning. ‘What’s he like, Poll? Does he look like anyone in our family?’

‘I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t know who he was so I wouldn’t think, would I?’ She looked at Theo. Something seemed familiar but she couldn’t think what it was. Then she knew. ‘He’s got eyes just like yours,’ she said.

They put the bundle down inside the summer house. He was sitting at Aunt Sarah’s desk, tucking into bread and bacon and tea. He had loosened his shirt in the front and although his face and neck were dirty, the skin of his chest was white and smooth.

When Poll said, ‘We’ve brought some clothes,’ he nodded, but paid no more attention until he had finished his meal. Then he sat back, chasing bacon scraps caught in his teeth with his tongue, and said, ‘Two others, aren’t there? An older boy and a girl?’

‘Lily and George,’ Theo said. He blinked and added, ‘Sir’, in a doubtful voice, as if he wasn’t sure how to address this interesting but unlikely relation.

Poll felt strange, too. This tramp was her grandfather! No one else she knew had a tramp in their family! It was different – and rather exciting! She wondered how old he was. Mother had only been twelve when Grandma Greengrass had died! She couldn’t ask him because it was rude to ask grown-ups how old they were. But she ought to say
something
!

She said, ‘We’re going to have mushrooms for breakfast. I picked them this morning.’

His eyes rested on her without very much interest. Blue eyes like Theo’s.

She tried again. ‘I know a good mushroom field. The farmer chases you out, but it’s the best place, and you have to be careful with mushrooms. I once found one in a wood, a huge one, big as a dinner plate, but it turned yellow in the pan and Mother threw it away.’

He tipped his chair back and looked at the ceiling and yawned.

Theo whispered, ‘Come away, Poll. He doesn’t want to talk to us.’

Poll could see that. Her grandfather wasn’t in the least interested in her or in Theo – or in anyone in their family. He couldn’t ever have been, because he had left them. To go off and leave Grandma Greengrass was one thing, because she was only his wife, no real blood relation, but he had gone off and left his own children, Aunt Sarah and Aunt Harriet and Uncle Edmund and Father, who were!

But he was
her
relation, too. Her grandfather! And even if that didn’t matter to him, it mattered to her! She had never seen him before and might never see him again. Never, in her whole life! She wanted to do something to mark the occasion but she couldn’t think what. If only she had something to give him, a present of some kind, or some money to spend. Father had given him money last winter but another winter was coming and Father was in America. And
she had no money. She had spent last Saturday’s penny and although Aunt Sarah and Mother had promised to give them all something to spend at the Fair, they hadn’t yet done so. That was a good thing in a way because if she had it already she would have felt bound to give it to him and it would have been dreadful to be without money to spend at the Fair!

Then she thought of something. Such a marvellous idea that she laughed aloud. She ran out of the summer house, round the back, and sank on to her knees. The earth was loose as if someone had been digging there recently but she didn’t understand why until she had the tin in her hand and took the lid off. There was nothing inside except a few grains of dust.

‘It’s gone,’ she said. ‘The gold’s gone!’

‘Yes,’ Theo said. He was standing behind her. She turned and looked up and saw his shamed, nervous grin. He said, ‘I was going to tell you…’

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘Y
OU GAVE IT
to Noah?’ Poll said. And then, because Theo was staring at her so blankly, like a foreigner or a deaf person, repeated it louder. ‘You gave all that
gold
to Noah
Bugg
?’

‘It wasn’t worth anything,’ Theo said.

They were sitting on the log pile in the small arbour at the end of Aunt Sarah’s garden; a good, private place covered with willow, and with its back to the summer house.

‘Of course gold’s worth something,’ Poll said. ‘Even a small piece. A gold sovereign’s worth something, isn’t it?’

Theo said patiently, ‘Not gold leaf shavings, though. Why d’you think Dad brought them home for us to make Christmas cards with? Just what was left over, that’s all they were, sweepings off the floor.’

She gasped. ‘But you
said
…’

‘I know what I said. I thought…’ He screwed up his face trying to remember exactly what he had thought all those months ago. ‘I really did think just for a bit that they must be worth something. Otherwise why should Dad go off like he did? It didn’t make sense. I mean, I didn’t know about Grandpa Greengrass then.’ He looked at her accusingly. ‘You didn’t tell me.’

‘I didn’t know either, did I? Not that it was
him
who’d turned up, because I thought he was dead.’

‘When you were under the table you heard Dad say
my father
. You said so just now.’

No answer to that! Or Poll couldn’t think of one. She wailed, ‘You’re not fair,’ and wished he was still smaller than she was so she could hit him. Then she thought of something better than hitting. She said, ‘You made up a story, didn’t you? You’re always making up stories. Things that aren’t true. Like – like saying the Swineherd wasn’t just a poor man who had a dream and found gold under the oak tree, but a thief who’d buried it there! You buried
our
gold and said
Dad
was a thief!’ She was so angry she hissed in and out as if her breath was fire, burning her. ‘Oh, that was mean!’

He said, ‘Yes, I know,’ and sat staring at her. He looked hypnotized; his eyes glassy.

She felt powerful and proud. She thought for a minute, pretending to be watching a spider in the willow branches over her head. When it plummeted
down and hung, spinning on its gossamer thread, she said sharply, ‘Did Noah believe the gold was valuable, then? Did you tell him it was?’

He nodded.

‘Did he believe you?’

‘Not at first, I don’t think…’ His eyes begged her to let him off but she sat stiffly, cold as a judge, and he went on, reluctantly, ‘So I told him Dad had stolen it from the coach firm in London to make sure we had something to live on while he was away in America. I thought that made it sound more likely, somehow. I don’t think he believed me, or not altogether, but it was like a game. Half a game, anyway. And I suppose he didn’t want to make trouble so he decided to play it. He said all right then, as long as I gave him a piece of gold every week he’d keep his mouth shut. About – about everything! It was a way of making friends, really. Sharing a secret. Do you understand?’ He smiled at her wanly. ‘If you don’t now, you will when you’re older.’

Poll was outraged. How old did he think she was?
Five
? She said, ‘You mean you told him lies about Dad stealing gold for a
game
?’

She put her face so close to his that she could see her face in his eyes. He closed them, as if to get rid of her, and said, ‘Daft, I see now! I told you it was something awful I’d done. That I’d die rather than tell you. Well, I’d rather die
now
.’

‘Don’t ask me to pity you,’ Poll said witheringly. But she did, all the same. He looked so despairing and he was such a fool! She said, ‘I suppose it’s being so clever makes you so stupid. You get tangled up. Look at the mess you’re in now! No more gold to give Noah, so what’ll he do? What if he goes round telling everyone our father’s a thief?’

‘That
I said he was
. That’s what’s important.’

‘What’ll Mother think? And Aunt Sarah?’

Theo shivered and groaned. ‘I wish I was dead.’

‘That wouldn’t help much. If Noah was, it might.’

‘That’s wicked, Poll!’

‘Why?’

He looked at her astonished face carefully. Then sighed and said, ‘No, it isn’t. I mean, you’re not wicked. Just me.’

Poll said, ‘You could give Noah your Fair money.’ She paused. ‘Mine too, if you like.’

He shook his head. ‘That wouldn’t help much. Not in the end. I’ve got to do something that’ll stop him for ever…’

He wrapped his arms round himself and sat huddled up as if he felt suddenly cold. His face grew pinched and determined.

Poll said, ‘We’d better go and have breakfast. I’ve been up for hours, I feel
hollow
.’

When they passed the summer house, Grandpa Greengrass was fast asleep in the chair, mouth open
and snoring. But when Poll crept up and peeped in the window later that morning, he had packed up and gone.

Mother said, ‘Oh, he wouldn’t hang around. He’s got some decent feelings.’

‘I wish I could just clear off when I felt like it,’ Theo said. ‘I wish I was a tramp.’

‘Cold in winter,’ Poll said. ‘Poor old man.’

Mother sniffed. ‘Don’t waste your pity, my girl. If you want to be sorry for someone, give a thought to Aunt Sarah! What a cross to bear all these years! The shame of it, when she has a position to keep up in the Town.’

‘Aunt Sarah wasn’t ashamed,’ Poll said. ‘She said,
Poor Father
, and she gave him breakfast.’

‘She’s a better Christian than I am,’ Mother said. ‘She’d give the Devil the shirt off her back if she thought he was chilly. Now get out from under my feet both of you and let me get on. Go down to Tuft’s farm, Poll, and get a can of skim milk. A milk and leek soup will set us all up for the Fair.’

The long day passed. Poll went to Tuft’s farm and got the skim milk and on the way home whirled the can round her head without spilling a drop. The water cart was out in the Square laying the dust. She put the can down and ran in and out of the sparkly shower to cool off.