shops, Col busied himself coiling ropes, involuntarily thinking of them as snakes and wondering what his mother and the gorgon were up to.
“Hi, Col!” He looked up, shading his eyes against the slanting rays of the sun. Anneena, dressed in fuchsia pink, was standing on the gangplank; Jane hovered shyly behind her.
“Oh, hi,” Col said brightly. “Come on board. I haven’t seen you all week. What’ve you been doing?”
“Busy working on these,” said Anneena, gesturing to a bundle of posters Jane was carrying. The girls leapt lightly down into the boat.
“What are the posters for?” He took them from Jane and put them on a dry spot on the engine hatch.
“We’re appealing for teams to take part in the carnival procession,” Jane said, patting the scrolls proudly.
“Oh, yeah?” Col had seen the pageant in previous years.It was not his kind of thing. A bunch of people dressed up in ridiculous costumes for “Michaelmas,” one of the old quarter days in honor of the Archangel Michael and the traditional start of the festival. He was always more interested in the music that followed.
Anneena took over. “This year we want to make it really good because my sister—you know Rupa’s landed a job with
The Times
in London?—well, she’s going to do an article about it for the weekend magazine—they’re running a story about the festival. It’s all part of the publicity about the new road.”
“Really?” Col replied with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
“Yes,” Anneena continued, undisturbed by his reaction. “You ride, don’t you, Col? You’d be great—all you need is a costume.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Col said firmly. “You are absolutely not going to rope me into it.”
“Think about it—please!”
“I don’t need to think about it.”
Anneena’s face was a picture of disappointment. Col felt a bit bad letting her down, but the last thing in the world he wanted to do was to team up with the aging amateur dramatic society who ran the pageant and make a fool of himself in some stupid costume. He couldn’t think of any circumstances under which he would willingly take part.
Jane nudged Anneena to stop her from arguing about itany further today. “Go on, tell him,” Jane muttered. Evidently, they had not dropped by the boat by accident.
Anneena said: “It’s about Connie.”
“What about her?”
“We saw her again yesterday. She really wants to see you.”
“And I want to see her. But how can I? Her aunt won’t let her near anyone from our Society.”
Jane smiled sadly. “Yeah, she thinks you’re all a bunch of tree-hugging nuts.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Col laughed.
“I dunno,” said Jane, shrugging. “Poor old Connie. She’s really hating it in Chartmouth.”
“Did she say if she can get out of there?”
Anneena nodded. “She’s had an idea. She wants you to meet her in the abbey tomorrow at noon—she’s got a favor to ask.”
“What kind of favor?”
“No idea—she was very mysterious about it.
It must be about the Society then, thought Col. “Sure, I’ll go to the abbey.”
“She said to hide in case she’s with her aunt.”
“Fine—I can do that.”
“So, Col, I see you’ve got company!” Mack had arrived and was looking down at the threesome with an unnecessarily broad grin. “Shall I come back later?”
The girls both glanced at Col, not knowing what tomake of the arrival of one of Hescombe’s famous characters. Col wished that the earth would swallow him up but he had to say something.
“Anneena—Jane—this is my dad,” he said heavily.
Mack jumped into the boat. He then reached up to the quayside to lift down his diving gear, knocking Jane’s posters into a puddle of water. He swore and shook them out.
“Sorry, darling. What’s all this then—a pageant?” he asked, catching sight of what was written on them. “You’re looking for volunteers? You should come up to the woods and ask the
“Hi, Col!” He looked up, shading his eyes against the slanting rays of the sun. Anneena, dressed in fuchsia pink, was standing on the gangplank; Jane hovered shyly behind her.
“Oh, hi,” Col said brightly. “Come on board. I haven’t seen you all week. What’ve you been doing?”
“Busy working on these,” said Anneena, gesturing to a bundle of posters Jane was carrying. The girls leapt lightly down into the boat.
“What are the posters for?” He took them from Jane and put them on a dry spot on the engine hatch.
“We’re appealing for teams to take part in the carnival procession,” Jane said, patting the scrolls proudly.
“Oh, yeah?” Col had seen the pageant in previous years.It was not his kind of thing. A bunch of people dressed up in ridiculous costumes for “Michaelmas,” one of the old quarter days in honor of the Archangel Michael and the traditional start of the festival. He was always more interested in the music that followed.
Anneena took over. “This year we want to make it really good because my sister—you know Rupa’s landed a job with
The Times
in London?—well, she’s going to do an article about it for the weekend magazine—they’re running a story about the festival. It’s all part of the publicity about the new road.”
“Really?” Col replied with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
“Yes,” Anneena continued, undisturbed by his reaction. “You ride, don’t you, Col? You’d be great—all you need is a costume.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Col said firmly. “You are absolutely not going to rope me into it.”
“Think about it—please!”
“I don’t need to think about it.”
Anneena’s face was a picture of disappointment. Col felt a bit bad letting her down, but the last thing in the world he wanted to do was to team up with the aging amateur dramatic society who ran the pageant and make a fool of himself in some stupid costume. He couldn’t think of any circumstances under which he would willingly take part.
Jane nudged Anneena to stop her from arguing about itany further today. “Go on, tell him,” Jane muttered. Evidently, they had not dropped by the boat by accident.
Anneena said: “It’s about Connie.”
“What about her?”
“We saw her again yesterday. She really wants to see you.”
“And I want to see her. But how can I? Her aunt won’t let her near anyone from our Society.”
Jane smiled sadly. “Yeah, she thinks you’re all a bunch of tree-hugging nuts.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Col laughed.
“I dunno,” said Jane, shrugging. “Poor old Connie. She’s really hating it in Chartmouth.”
“Did she say if she can get out of there?”
Anneena nodded. “She’s had an idea. She wants you to meet her in the abbey tomorrow at noon—she’s got a favor to ask.”
“What kind of favor?”
“No idea—she was very mysterious about it.
It must be about the Society then, thought Col. “Sure, I’ll go to the abbey.”
“She said to hide in case she’s with her aunt.”
“Fine—I can do that.”
“So, Col, I see you’ve got company!” Mack had arrived and was looking down at the threesome with an unnecessarily broad grin. “Shall I come back later?”
The girls both glanced at Col, not knowing what tomake of the arrival of one of Hescombe’s famous characters. Col wished that the earth would swallow him up but he had to say something.
“Anneena—Jane—this is my dad,” he said heavily.
Mack jumped into the boat. He then reached up to the quayside to lift down his diving gear, knocking Jane’s posters into a puddle of water. He swore and shook them out.
“Sorry, darling. What’s all this then—a pageant?” he asked, catching sight of what was written on them. “You’re looking for volunteers? You should come up to the woods and ask the
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