The Shade of Hettie Daynes by Robert Swindells Page A

time perilously close to Father’s office. H. threatening to tell her mother unless I name the day. Silly little fool surely can’t imagine Father’s plans for me include marriage to one of his hands?
    Carl smiled. He was only thirteen, but he pretty much knew what was what. Stanton Farley Hopwood had been a
very
naughty boy, and Carl doubted whether Councillor Reginald Hopwood (busy man) would want this to get out, even after all this time.

SIXTY-THREE
    ‘YOUR GLOSSY’S COME,’ said Norah Crabtree, when Alison got in from school. ‘It’s on the kitchen table.’ Norah was watching TV as usual.
    Alison found the brown envelope under a mountain of clothes awaiting her mother’s iron. It was addressed to her, but Mum had opened it anyway. She pulled out Bill’s photo.
    ‘Oh,
sweet
,’ she whispered, gazing at it. ‘Am I a genius or what? That
skirt
, the way it hangs. The hair, the eyeliner –
everything
. And just
look
how my feet stand out white against the black of that puddle. It didn’t look
half
this good in the paper.’
    She spun on one foot, laughing, holding up the photograph . ‘No
wonder
old Hopwood couldn’t resist giving me the prize!’
    She scampered upstairs, punched in Bethan’s number. ‘Beth, my glossy came. Wait till you see it. I look
exactly
like the ghost we saw the night you slept over,
and
I’ve already decided what I’m going as next year.’ She laughed with excitement. ‘I’m going as our
skeleton
!’
    She waited for her friend’s reaction, but instead a voice said, ‘Who
is
this? Alison? This is Bethan’s mother. Bethan’s in the bathroom, and it seems she’ll have some explaining to do when she comes out. Thank you for calling. Goodbye.’

SIXTY-FOUR
    BETHAN CAME INTO the kitchen. She’d changed out of her school clothes. Harry flashed her a warning look, which she failed to understand. She looked at her mother.
    ‘Did I hear my phone just now?’ Christa was stirring something in a pan. When she turned, Bethan saw the look on her face. ‘What . . . is something
wrong
, Mum?’
    Christa nodded. ‘
I
think so, Bethan. You
did
hear your phone. Alison Crabtree called. She wants you to know her glossy’s come, and that she looks exactly like the ghost you and she saw the night you slept over.’
    Bethan’s face fell. ‘Ah. Yes. Right.’ Her mind started to race, but it failed to turn up anything she might usefully say.
    ‘Oh,’ continued Christa, ‘and she’s already decided what she intends to go as
next
year – I assume she’s talking about the Hallowe’en Hop. She’s going to go as
our skeleton
, whatever that means.’ She eyed her daughter narrowly. ‘I suppose
you
know what it means, Bethan?’
    Bethan hung her head. ‘Yes, Mum.’
    ‘Well? What is
our skeleton
?’
    ‘It’s . . . we found it, Mum. At the old mill.’
    ‘
What
old mill? What are you talking about, child?’
    Harry broke in. ‘She means the mill at Wilton Water, Mum. Hopwood Mill. There’s a skeleton. Human. We found it.’
    His mother stared. ‘
When
, Harry? When did all this happen, and why am I the last to know about it?’
    ‘It was last Saturday,’ said Harry. ‘The eighth. We didn’t tell you because . . . because it’s our adventure.’
    ‘And because we think it’s Hettie Daynes,’ added Bethan.
    ‘Whoa, just a minute.’ Christa sank onto a chair, gazed at her children. ‘It sounds to me as though you’ve both been practically
living
by that reservoir, in spite of the fact that I’ve asked you to stay away from it, and in defiance of warnings at school
and
in the
Echo
about its being dangerous.’
    ‘We’ve been really, really careful, Mum,’ murmured Bethan. ‘Mr Wood and Mr Fox
both
told us what to do, and we’ve taken notice.’
    Christa looked at her. ‘Does Steve Wood know about this skeleton?’
    Bethan shook her head. ‘I don’t know, Mum.
We
didn’t show it to him.’ She tried on a smile. ‘Grown-ups spoil