The Village Newcomers (15 page)
Soon they reached a clearing where there were lots of tree trunks that had never been taken away after they’d been felled, and Beth sat down on one in the hope Jake would kiss her again.
Jake obediently perched on the same tree trunk and said, as someone would who believed in being upfront, ‘That brother of yours . . .’
Scathingly Beth said, ‘Take no notice of
him
.’
him
.’
‘Does he always make a note of where and why you’re going out and who with?’
Beth lied. ‘No-o-o. He doesn’t bother about me very much. We each do our own thing.’
‘He’s timing us.’
‘No, you’re wrong. He’s probably got somewhere to go and was just checking he wasn’t going to be late.’
‘Can’t be Culworth; he’s missed the bus.’
‘He has a bike. Anyway, I haven’t come out to discuss Alex’s whys and wherefores.’
‘It’s just that at school he’s good fun, a real mate.’
‘Yes, well.’ Beth looked into his face, a face so close she only had to lean forward less than half a metre and they would have been nose to nose. She looked directly into his eyes, those brown eyes with a kind of tigerish glint. He was altogether too tempting, was Jake. But even in her new mood of not caring one jot what people thought of her, she didn’t quite dare . . .
Jake grinned at her. ‘Go on, then.’
‘Go on what?’
‘Kiss me like you want to. I can see it in your face.’
‘No, you can’t!’
‘Yes, I can.’
So she did. Just a peck. But she knew there was more to it than that. She’d seen Mum and Dad kissing, lingeringly and meaningfully, and that was exactly what she wanted to do with Jake, like in films. Desperately wanted it to be just how she’d imagined it. She’d try it.
But then so did Jake and they were kissing as never before, more seriously than when they’d kissed on the midnight walk.
His arms went round her and hers round him, and it was delicious. This was living, this was! He was running his hands up and down her spine, caressing her and then his hands were feeling her rather than caressing. Beth drew back. Something about his urgency alarmed her.
‘Come on. What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You’ve never kissed properly before, have you? Tongues and such?’
She lied again. ‘Of course I have.’
‘All right, then, you have, but I know you haven’t.’
‘You’re well experienced, are you?’ There was a sceptical note in her voice which annoyed him.
‘What? Me? Of course. Eighteen next month and not kissed anyone before? Come off it.’
Somehow Beth really began to feel alarmed. There was a slight threat coming from him now, and she wasn’t having that. She sat admiring her new shoes, pretending to check the straps were tight enough, knocking a fallen leaf off the right heel, anything to give her time to assess this hugely attractive male who fascinated her so very much. ‘Let’s walk on further.’
‘OK.’ Jake got to his feet and offered her a hand to help her up.
Once they were on the move she began to feel better about him. She showed him a few birds she recognised, they stood on the little footbridge over the stream, admired the changing colour of the overhanging leaves, but when Jake suggested they crossed Shepherd’s Hill and went into Sykes Wood she refused.
‘Absolutely not. People from Turnham Malpas don’t go into those woods.’
‘Nobody? That’s ridiculous.’
Indignantly Beth said, ‘It isn’t. Those woods are haunted.’
‘Haunted?’ Jake laughed at her.
‘Yes. I’m not going in. The trees are so close together you can’t see ahead of yourself, and there are strange noises. Witches met there a few years ago, and one of them got burned to death.’
‘In Sykes Wood?’
‘Not burned in the wood itself, but she did get burned to death during one of their meetings or séances, or whatever they call them.’
‘Well, I live in Penny Fawcett and I haven’t heard a word about all that. I’m going in. Come on. Cross the road.’
He stood temptingly in the middle of Shepherd’s Hill waiting for her, smiling temptingly and crooking his finger to entice her. She felt like a little kid. She mustn’t look foolish, not when she was striking out as an adult. Perhaps he was right. It
was
ridiculous to talk about witches and haunting in broad daylight. So she crossed Shepherd’s Hill and, taking hold of his hand, climbed the stile and went into the woods.
was
ridiculous to talk about witches and haunting in broad daylight. So she crossed Shepherd’s Hill and, taking hold of his hand, climbed the stile and went into the woods.
‘There you are, you see. It’s perfectly all right.’
Beth didn’t answer. Already she could feel the pressure of not being able to see ahead because of the density of the trees. The path was so narrow they couldn’t walk side by side, so Jake went ahead and Beth followed obediently.
It was cold and sunny that morning, but in Sykes Wood it seemed as though the sun had gone in. She wished she hadn’t worn her new jacket, which wasn’t meant for outdoors in early October. She stumbled over a tree root but Jake was walking so fast he didn’t notice. Then he was so far ahead he’d disappeared. Beth hurried round the bend in the path and he wasn’t there. Where had he gone? Why had he left her? Was it the wood playing tricks? Then he sprang out from behind a tree shouting, ‘Boo!’
Beth screamed in panic. Jake took her in his arms, pressed her back against a tree trunk and began to kiss her fears away, or so he said. But immediately her mind felt as if it were splitting apart, and the memory of that nightmare in Africa burst into life. The horror of how close she’d come to being raped came flooding back . . . Beth pushed every ounce of energy she had into her arms and, placing her hands on Jake’s chest, she forced him away, fighting him, thrashing him, beating him with every ounce of her strength, screaming, screaming, screaming as loud as she could.
Then her power went to her legs and she was fleeing, down the path, over the stile, into Shepherd’s Hill, turning right and going hell for leather towards the village and safety.
Passing the school, she drew breath and tried to compose herself, but the urgent need to get home made her begin running again. She’d no door key. She’d have to ring the bell. Jake’s bike was still propped against the house wall, and the panic came back. She hammered on the door and Alex was there, pulling her in over the step.
Gasping for breath, her mouth dry with fear, Beth struggled to say, ‘Mum! Where’s Mum?’
And she was in her arms.
Safe.
Held tight.
Kissed.
Loved.
‘Darling! Come into the kitchen right away. Put the kettle on, Alex, and make a cup of tea for us all.’
Peter came in from the back garden. ‘It’s no good, Alex, you’ll have to give me a hand. Your mother wants this lilac out and the roots are enormous . . . what’s the matter?’
Beth extricated herself from Caroline’s arms. Not catching anyone’s eye, certainly not Alex’s, she gasped, ‘Sykes Wood. It’s haunted just like everyone says it is. I really got myself frightened. Jake wanted to go in and persuaded me . . . it was all right . . . but it isn’t.’ ‘Where’s Jake now?’
Beth looked at Peter. ‘He must be following me home. His bike’s still here.’ She gasped for breath again and flopped down on to a chair. ‘I’m so thirsty.’
Caroline caught Alex looking at her, and her heart quaked. It occurred to her that a word with Jake might be a very good idea, so she said, ‘Peter, bring Jake’s bike in, would you, please? You never know nowadays, it might get stolen. Tea for you?’
Peter nodded. After the tea, which they drank sitting round the kitchen table, Saturday morning became more normal, except that Jake’s bike was still in the hall.
Beth knew instinctively they must never know about Jake kissing her, and more so that she enjoyed it until . . . To them she’d blamed her panic on the stories of ghosts and witches in Sykes Wood, and that was how it would stay. She wouldn’t tell them or else they’d never let her out again by herself, and she wasn’t having that. But his kisses were so exciting; she liked them until he got that urgent feeling about him. Would it always be like this for the rest of her life? That frightening memory spilling out of the deep enclaves of her mind? The vivid memory of that rebel soldier out there in the heat of Africa, threatening to rape her . . . Oh, God! Thank you for Alex, who had killed him with the butt of the soldier’s rifle . . . No, she would never lose the fear.
‘I’ll start my prep, OK?’
Caroline gently trailed her hand along the back of Beth’s shoulders. ‘Feeling all right now? I’ve felt funny like that in Sykes Wood. No one likes it, and you won’t be the last. Off you go. When I’ve cleared up I’m going to the coffee morning. I’ve a few people to see.’
Jake’s bike was still there when they went to church on Sunday morning. In the afternoon Peter put it in the estate car and took it to Penny Fawcett for him, but he was out so Peter didn’t get the opportunity to have a word.
On Wednesday morning Peter received a very disquieting letter from the headmaster of Alex’s school. He read it twice before it sank in. Alex had beaten someone up in the changing rooms and was refusing to say why. Could Peter go to school to see the head? He would be free around 10 a.m. on Friday, if that was convenient.
He looked again at the beginning of the letter and saw it was Jake Harding whom Alex had beaten up. Alex never did anything without a very good reason and it struck Peter that maybe Beth’s story about being frightened of witches in Sykes Wood and Jake not coming back for his bike might be connected. The phone rang and Peter had to pull himself together.
‘Yes. Ah! Oh dear. I didn’t know. Certainly. You say the operation’s today? In that case I’ll call to see him tomorrow. He’ll be home by then? Good. Thank you for letting me know.’
Back to his letter. And what was worse, he recollected that Alex had appeared to be in pain on Monday evening when he came home from school, and had said he was just a bit stiff after rugby, that was all. What was the matter with his children. They’d never given him a single cause for serious anxiety in all their lives and now this. Both of them.
Caroline came home at half past one and he sat down to lunch with her as soon as she came in. He’d wait till she’d eaten because she looked drained.
‘Go on then, Peter, tell me the worst,’ she said eventually.
‘Old Ben Burton’s having a gall stone operation today. I’ve promised to go and see him tomorrow.’
‘Thank you for that snippet. But that’s not it, is it?’
She was too perceptive by half, was Caroline. ‘No.’
‘Well?’
‘It’s a letter I’ve had from the head at Prince Henry’s.’
‘Oh no. Not Alex not doing his prep like Beth?’
‘Alex beat up a fellow pupil in the changing rooms.’
Caroline was stunned. ‘What? Alex? Who has he beaten up?’ Her thoughts suddenly came together. ‘Not Jake?’
Peter nodded. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘Mother’s instinct. There must be some mistake, though.’
‘Apparently not. I’m seeing the head on Friday.’
‘Oh, God. As bad as that, is it?’
Peter nodded again.
‘Suddenly we’ve got two crazy teenagers. We’ve never realised how lucky we’ve been all these years, have we, Peter? What’s triggered all this? First it’s Beth in rebellion and now Alex behaving completely out of character. Suzy Meadows coming has completely upset them both, as well as the two of us. You’ll have to talk it through with him. Get at the truth before Friday. Or shall I?’
‘In this instance I think maybe it’s man’s talk.’
‘Right. But you tell me every word afterwards. I don’t envy you.’
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