help, or stand by, a member of this society…’
‘…at any time of day or night, I will do so, or…’
‘…at any time of day or night, I will do so, or…’
‘…may this oath kill me.’
Mathew’s finger flew back to his mouth. When children promised ‘Cross my heart and hope to die’, no one really meant it. But Lance sounded deadly serious.
‘…may this oath kill me,’ he whispered, loud enough for Lance to hear.
Lance launched into a further oath. It was a pledge never to reveal the secret society to anyone on pain of death. Mathew had just pledged himself for a second time, when they heard the rumble of an approaching vehicle. Lance blew out the candle. He leapt up to sneak a look through the curtains.
‘Dad’s back! Get into bed! Pretend you’re asleep.’
‘Won’t your mother be mad if there’s blood on the sheets?’
‘Are you still bleeding?’ Lance fumbled in his drawer. Mathew felt a handkerchief shoved into his hand and wound it around his finger.
They clambered into bed. Mathew followed the sounds of the dogs barking, the engine being turned off, the door being unbolted, lowered voices, then heavy footsteps. The door opened quietly. Mathew kept his eyes shut.
‘Dad? I couldn’t sleep! Did you get anyone?’ Lance sounded excited.
‘Shh! You’ll wake Mathew. I’ll tell you in the morning.’ The door closed.
The bed above Mathew shook as Lance pummelled his pillow.
‘Why couldn’t he tell me now?’ Lance whispered fiercely. Mathew didn’t reply. He was exhausted and ready for sleep.
At breakfast, Mrs Smithers noticed Mathew’s finger. Although it was no longer bleeding, it was swollen and it hurt. She insisted on taking him to the bathroom to attend to it but when she asked how he had cut it, he said that he’d done it accidentally opening Lance’s knife. Lance grinned as Mathew returned with his bandage. Lance’s cut didn’t look so red and angry but, even so, Mathew noticed that he kept it out of his mother’s sight.
‘Where’s Dad?’ Lance asked. ‘Did he say he’ll take us shooting?’
‘He set off early, while you children were still asleep.’
Lance groaned. ‘He promised to tell me what happened last night!’
‘Nothing happened, dear. The Morrisons are fine. He’s just gone to check that all is well there this morning.’
Mrs Smithers was talking like Mother when there was more to a story than she wished to reveal. Mathew was surprised that Lance didn’t probefurther and wondered whether it was because of the servant. He was a Kipsigi boy not much older than Mugo who came shuttling back and forth from the kitchen with their bacon and eggs, crackling hot from the cook’s pan. Instead Lance asked if he could take Mathew to the dairy.
‘I want to show him the new Sussex stud cow. She’s massive! The stud bull is coming soon! Titanic Man for Titanic Lady!’ Lance winked at Mathew.
‘I’d rather you two played around the house until your father is back.’
‘Nothing’s going to happen to Mathew and me, Mum!’ Lance objected. ‘It’s broad daylight! Dad would let us go! Give us a time to come back and we’ll keep to it, I promise!’
‘You’re as bad as your father once you’ve got an idea.’ Mrs Smithers sighed.
‘It’s only the dairy, Mum! You can almost see it from here since Dad cleared the bush.’
‘All right, but I want you back by eleven. Is that clear?’
Mathew smiled to himself. He wasn’t the only person that Lance pressured! Probably the only person to whom Lance didn’t do it was his father.
Once past the guards and the gate, they raced each other to the dairy. The bush had been cut downfor over a quarter of a mile to allow a clear view of anyone approaching the house. Only a few whistling thorns had somehow escaped the pangas. The dairy was situated below a short dip. Beyond the dairy, the bush had been left in its natural state. The grass was short where the cattle had grazed but there was also a
‘…at any time of day or night, I will do so, or…’
‘…at any time of day or night, I will do so, or…’
‘…may this oath kill me.’
Mathew’s finger flew back to his mouth. When children promised ‘Cross my heart and hope to die’, no one really meant it. But Lance sounded deadly serious.
‘…may this oath kill me,’ he whispered, loud enough for Lance to hear.
Lance launched into a further oath. It was a pledge never to reveal the secret society to anyone on pain of death. Mathew had just pledged himself for a second time, when they heard the rumble of an approaching vehicle. Lance blew out the candle. He leapt up to sneak a look through the curtains.
‘Dad’s back! Get into bed! Pretend you’re asleep.’
‘Won’t your mother be mad if there’s blood on the sheets?’
‘Are you still bleeding?’ Lance fumbled in his drawer. Mathew felt a handkerchief shoved into his hand and wound it around his finger.
They clambered into bed. Mathew followed the sounds of the dogs barking, the engine being turned off, the door being unbolted, lowered voices, then heavy footsteps. The door opened quietly. Mathew kept his eyes shut.
‘Dad? I couldn’t sleep! Did you get anyone?’ Lance sounded excited.
‘Shh! You’ll wake Mathew. I’ll tell you in the morning.’ The door closed.
The bed above Mathew shook as Lance pummelled his pillow.
‘Why couldn’t he tell me now?’ Lance whispered fiercely. Mathew didn’t reply. He was exhausted and ready for sleep.
At breakfast, Mrs Smithers noticed Mathew’s finger. Although it was no longer bleeding, it was swollen and it hurt. She insisted on taking him to the bathroom to attend to it but when she asked how he had cut it, he said that he’d done it accidentally opening Lance’s knife. Lance grinned as Mathew returned with his bandage. Lance’s cut didn’t look so red and angry but, even so, Mathew noticed that he kept it out of his mother’s sight.
‘Where’s Dad?’ Lance asked. ‘Did he say he’ll take us shooting?’
‘He set off early, while you children were still asleep.’
Lance groaned. ‘He promised to tell me what happened last night!’
‘Nothing happened, dear. The Morrisons are fine. He’s just gone to check that all is well there this morning.’
Mrs Smithers was talking like Mother when there was more to a story than she wished to reveal. Mathew was surprised that Lance didn’t probefurther and wondered whether it was because of the servant. He was a Kipsigi boy not much older than Mugo who came shuttling back and forth from the kitchen with their bacon and eggs, crackling hot from the cook’s pan. Instead Lance asked if he could take Mathew to the dairy.
‘I want to show him the new Sussex stud cow. She’s massive! The stud bull is coming soon! Titanic Man for Titanic Lady!’ Lance winked at Mathew.
‘I’d rather you two played around the house until your father is back.’
‘Nothing’s going to happen to Mathew and me, Mum!’ Lance objected. ‘It’s broad daylight! Dad would let us go! Give us a time to come back and we’ll keep to it, I promise!’
‘You’re as bad as your father once you’ve got an idea.’ Mrs Smithers sighed.
‘It’s only the dairy, Mum! You can almost see it from here since Dad cleared the bush.’
‘All right, but I want you back by eleven. Is that clear?’
Mathew smiled to himself. He wasn’t the only person that Lance pressured! Probably the only person to whom Lance didn’t do it was his father.
Once past the guards and the gate, they raced each other to the dairy. The bush had been cut downfor over a quarter of a mile to allow a clear view of anyone approaching the house. Only a few whistling thorns had somehow escaped the pangas. The dairy was situated below a short dip. Beyond the dairy, the bush had been left in its natural state. The grass was short where the cattle had grazed but there was also a
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