Billy and the Golden Gate (5 page)

As they near the house, geese and hens potter towards them. Rex has never seen anything like them, and doesn't know how to react. He jumps at them then jumps back. One of the geese snaps quickly at his nose, catching him. Rex whimpers and runs back to Billy.

The house looks derelict; the windows are grubby and stained, one of them is cracked. The roof is missing slates and looks like it has a yew tree poking through the gable end. One of the hinges has come loose on the front door; it looks like it is just hanging on. A loud cackle sounds from behind the house. The geese and hens amble off in response to it, turning the corner of the house. Billy's gang look at each other and then all look to Billy, including Rex.

Billy follows the geese. Behind the house an old woman is standing hunched over a bucket, scattering feed on the ground. She is dressed all in black. Her hair snakes down her back in dreadlocks. She has her back to Billy and has not heard him.

Billy turns quietly and quickly returns to his friends. When he reaches them, he says, “I think she's a witch…”

“Wow,” Daisy says. “A real witch, we can't let her cast a spell on us – remember Hansel and Gretel? I bet she has gingerbread. Quick, she's coming!” The friends run and hide behind a tree stump.

The witch walks slowly; the four friends watch her through a small gap in the wood – the gap is so tiny, they have to alternate so that everyone gets a look. Rufus whispers, “She looks really really evil…”

She drags her left leg slightly; her nose and chin are both tipped with big ugly warts.

Rufus scrunches his face. “And kinda ugly…”

The witch hears him and looks directly at the tree stump. She watches it and then, slowly, walks over to it.

“I can see yez, you know, I saar ye before ye ever got here.”

Daisy's mouth makes an ‘O' shape and she whispers to Billy, “I've heard about this, second sight.”

Billy stands up, glancing around. The wolves are still there, but they have not come any closer. The noise from the bats echoes overhead.

“We didn't mean to intrude,” Billy says.

The old lady looks at Billy.

“Aha, why are yez here?” she asks suspiciously.

Billy looks at her.

“We are just passing through.”

“Can't jus pass tru, has to come in, has to…”

Billy glances at his friends, weighing it up in his head, and answers, “We will come in.”

His three friends look at him, aghast. The old lady turns and walks back to her house, with Rex at her heel.

Daisy starts to speak, “But Billy, Hansel and Gretel, she'll want to fatten us up and cook us in her oven.”

“Sssshhhh Daisy, we'll just go in for a minute.”

Peter says, “I don't know about this Billy, I've a bad feeling.”

Rufus says, “I'm hungry.”

Billy turns to the three of them.

“Just trust me. Anyway, Rex has followed her in already, so we have to get him.”

They edge their way from the tree stump to the front door, one after the other, Billy in the lead. The old lady has left her door open for them, they step inside. The house inside is a mirror image of Gunner Sharpie's, except it isn't; there is no Aga, in the fire hearth there is just a small dwindling fire that doesn't give out any heat. The table and chairs are old, bockety and even at a distance they look like they are pickled with woodworm. There are two doors on the other side of the kitchen and a rickety staircase. It is missing several steps. Both doors are open, though it's hard to make out what is behind them. The room is cold; there are no smells of proper cooking, though there is a lingering smell of boiled onions
¹⁰
. Peter starts thinking about vampires –
was it onions or garlic?

The old lady stands watching them.

“Yer welcome, but yer to mind yesselves, I don't want nottin broken.” She looks sharply at Peter, who flinches in response and takes a small step back. He knocks over the doorstop – a big horseshoe – it makes a clattering noise on the flagstones.

“I suppose you're going to want us to eat gingerbread,” Daisy says sharply. “Well I won't be having it, nor will my friends.”

The old lady looks at Daisy. She twiddles a finger in her ear and says, “What's that, you'll have to speak up.”

Daisy replies loudly, “
Gingerbread!”

“Oh that'd be grand, yis, a nice big piece.”

Daisy watches and, for once, listens.

“Oh no, we don't have any–”

Rufus interrupts Daisy.

“Actually, we are hungry.” By way of agreement, his stomach growls.

The old lady looks confused and sits down, a bit deflated.

Billy taps Rufus on his shoulder to get his attention. Rufus turns and looks at him.

“Rufus, I don't think she has any food.” Billy glances at the old lady. “I don't think she's had any food in a long while.” Rufus looks at the old woman and twigs what Billy means; her clothes are roomy and big, not for comfort but because underneath all the layers there is very little of her.

“Well, there's nottin here for yez young scallywags.” She folds her arms and looks blankly into thin air.

Billy reaches a decision. He gathers his friends round.

“I'd like to help her,” he says gently.

“But Billy…” Daisy starts urgently, “she's a witch. She's probably thinking up her spell right now!”

Rufus shakes his head. “Daisy, I'm hungry, but she's hungrier.”

Daisy says, “Exactly! It's probably ages since she ate a child!”

“No, Daisy,” Rufus replies, “if she liked eating children, well, she'd have proper-sized pots for one – and sure I'm even bigger 'en her.”

Daisy looks at the two pots hanging over the hearth, just big enough to fit a small chicken in each.

Peter has remained unusually quiet throughout this conversation. He walks over to one of the open doors. He pushes it further open and goes into the room. Inside is an old iron bed, the iron bits are black and a browny, reddy, rust- colour where the black bits have peeled back. The mattress sinks in the middle, the bed is not properly made; the sheets on top are crumpled and look really dirty.

Peter steps out of the room and through the other door to the pantry. As he walks in, he sees lots of scampering on the floor; mice and rats don't bother him. Everything sitting on the floor is riddled with holes but the stuff that's on the shelves looks OK. There's a bag of flour, some bags of seed, some sugar and other things stacked high up. Peter tries to reach them, but they are too far away. He'll need either a chair or a leg up.

He rejoins his friends just in time to hear Daisy say, “Hocus pocus, look there's even a broomstick.” They all look at the broomstick – stick is a more accurate description as all the reeds and rushes are long gone, it's threadbare.

Peter says, “I think we should help her and I think we can help her. I'm with you, Billy.”

Rufus nods in agreement.

Daisy glares at the three of them.

“OK, what choice do I have, but when she catches you I'm out of here!”

Rex has spotted the black cat sitting on top of the dresser, which is swishing its tail very deliberately and staring at Rex. Rex growls and jumps at the dresser but he can't get near it. The cat smiles and continues to swish its tail.

“OK,” Billy says. “What needs doing?”

“Food, fire, clean, cook,” Peter says simply. The boys look at him, astonished.

Daisy narrows her eyes.

“Are you under a spell?”

Peter straightens his glasses and shakes his head. “No,” he replies.

“I'll gather the firewood, there's loads of dry stuff out there,” Rufus says.

Billy looks around.

“Well, there was the garlic. I saw mushrooms and nettles, I'll gather them.”

Peter says, “And there is a pantry, there.” He points at the second door.

“And I bet the geese or chickens have laid some eggs,” Billy replies enthusiastically. “Leave that to me.”

Daisy says, “Never mind all that, never mind that she is probably a witch, what about our adventure? I thought that was what we are doing?” She looks quite disgruntled. “And this place isn't one bit nice.”

“Well, now is now,” Billy says.

Daisy huffs. “What on earth does that mean –?”

Peter interrupts her. “Means we just deal with now Daisy, OK? You and me can do the cleaning, that's it.”

“Doesn't make any sense,” she says.

Billy looks at her.

“It's like this, Daisy, we are here and we've been given a chance to help her, and she sure does need it.”

Daisy looks at the house and the old lady with a fresh set of eyes. She sees the old lady and she sees the house, properly – the sort of looking you do when you are thinking of absolutely nothing else except seeing what's in front of you. Her sight is now altogether different; it's become busy with purpose. The old lady has fallen asleep, she is snoring – she sounds a bit like a steam engine. Daisy looks at her now; she sees her skinny legs, her bony hands, her matted hair. Now she doesn't see the evil witch, she sees the old lady.

Daisy blushes a little bit but hides it by shaking her hair, then – all business – she says, “We need soap.”

Daisy and Peter rummage in the presses and eventually find what they were looking for: an old scrubbing brush and soap!

Peter gathers up some rushes and reeds from just outside the house and sets to threading them into the broomstick. It takes time and patience. As he works, his tongue juts out from the left of his mouth.

Daisy has stripped the bed and gathered up the clothes that are strewn on the floor. After some searching, she finds the bathroom. It is outside the house; a toilet and a small bathtub, more like a big basin. She chucks the clothes in and runs the water on top of them – it is stone cold.
Never mind
, she thinks to herself. She grabs the soap and scrubbing brush and lathers up the soap nicely, then sets to.

The bats swoop overhead. The wolves have separated; three of them stay close to the house, the other two have walked off a distance – one close to Billy, one close to Rufus. The two boys are so busy at their tasks that they don't notice this.

Rex and the cat are having a proper stand-off; the cat has jumped from the top of the dresser and landed on the kitchen table. His tail is high,
swish
,
swish
. Rex jumps and plops his two front paws on the table. He grips on with his nails and growls at the cat. The cat sits down and half curls his tail so that the tip of it is the only bit swishing now. Rex jumps again and, quick as a flash, the cat lashes out and swipes at Rex's nose, scraping him squarely. Rex backs down immediately and scampers to the furthest corner in the room. He curls into a ball and whimpers.

Then he retaliates by hurling himself back at the cat, but the cat is too quick for him and jumps out of harm's way on to the windowsill. The old lady has woken and is laughing at them, enjoying the spectacle.

“Yer a right one, Grimsby. Dog, ye dun't stand a chance.”

Grimsby is a big tomcat. He has a scar in his left eye that makes it look cloudy. He is coal black – no white dots and flecks – and, truth be told, no semblance of cuteness about him at all. He is prone to: loitering, hissing, swiping and having a throaty growl-like mewl.

Grimsby jumps again, this time on to the kitchen table and sashays over to the old lady. She holds out her hand palm down. He shoves his head in under it and starts to purr like a jet engine.

“Who'd de good boy, Grimbo.”

Purr
,
purr
.

The old lady's head tilts down, she nods off.

*

Peter has started sweeping the floor. Bits of fluff and dust and dry dirt are gathered up into little piles and whooshed out the door. Meanwhile Daisy has hung out the clothes. The wind has picked up and is shaking down the clothes nicely; they will be dry in no time.

Daisy cleans the basin and while she's at it gives the whole outhouse a good scrub. It is a very satisfying feeling and Daisy grins as she works.

*

Rufus plods along, pausing here and there to pick up some firewood. There's plenty of it strewn on the forest floor, all of it pretty dry. The leafy canopy overhead has done a good job of keeping the rain off.

Sometimes as he collects and lifts, he sees insects scurrying away and hiding underneath whatever they can find; rocks, stones, other bits of wood, tree stumps. There are all sorts: shiny beetles with solid-looking armour; ants marching like a determined military force, moving with precision and purpose, and worms diving for easy-to-digest soil – lots and lots of them. Rufus is careful not to step on them as he moves on, hence the plodding. He has quite an armful gathered at this stage and decides it's time to head back to the cottage.

Billy has found the wild garlic and mushrooms. He's had to take off his hoodie and wrap it around the nettles to bring them home. It's been tricky gathering them in the first place as they are right stingers but Billy has kept his hands covered the whole time, almost. He's only been stung a few times. Like Rufus, when his arms are as full as can be, he heads back to the cottage.

Billy and Rufus hook up on the way back. When he meets his friend, Billy says, “Did you see them, Rufus?”

Rufus scrunches up his forehead, thinking about creepy crawlies.

“Yeah, there were tonnes of them, very difficult not to step on ‘em,” he says deliberately.

Billy glances at him quickly. “The wolves, two of them are tracking us.”

Rufus looks around and, sure enough, there they are; two grey wolves, one of them with a heavier set and the other with a streak of white fur across his head.

Rufus opens his mouth slightly and breathes out. “Wow,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Billy replies. “Funny one, isn't it, them keeping an eye on us… could be they're lost and they think we look like we know where we're going, with the map and all.”

“You think? With our funny map, I didn't know wolves knew magic.”

Billy pauses for a moment. “Oh yeah, all nature is like ‘magic', you know? I mean, Miss Beetle does a good job with all the science and reason and stuff but still, it never explains the magic.”

Rufus looks at Billy, then quickly sidesteps a rabbit burrow.

“Don't quite follow you there, Billy.”

“Well, look at everything, I mean
everything
, together, here like, at the same time, now, you know.”

“Uh huh,” Rufus replies uncertainly.

“Science couldn't possibly explain all of this, you know, as one, one moment, now.”

“Eh, yeah, OK, kinda, like how come the wolves an' you an' me an' Daisy an' Rex an' Screech an' the worms an' the bats an' the trees an' the clouds and stuff are, like, now?”

Billy nods deliberately. “Exactly… magic.”

Rufus shifts the kindling and wood in his arms; the two boys walk on.

“Sure you can eat 'em mushrooms?”

“Oh yeah, my dad showed me all the proper ones and I remember everything my dad showed me,” Billy says.

“That's handy, my dad's not keen on nature. Says it smells.”

“Figures,” replies Billy knowingly.

“You really can't remember him, at all?” Rufus asks.

Billy looks up at the sky. It peeks through the trees above.

“No…” he shakes his head. “Nothing.”

Rufus glances at him. “I remember mum's hugs, kind of like a big pillow, you know?”

Billy thinks about this, his own mum is altogether unpillow-like. An image of coat hangers floods his mind. “Huummm hmmm, you miss her.”

“Uh huh, wish she'd come home, but you know, hey, look we're back.”

Dust is billowing out through the front door; it swirls over the doorstep and disperses to the wind. There's a sneeze and Screech walks out into the open air. “Hey!” He waves at his two friends. He leans the broomstick against the wall and walks towards them. A couple of the geese follow him and one of the wolves moves away from the back of the cottage – it's exceptionally lean and a bit clumsy in the way it walks. The two boys notice him straightaway.

“Wow, you got loads…and there's eggs out back.”

There's a clatter from inside the house. Grimsby the cat catapults himself through the front door and bounds up the closest tree. Rex follows in frenzied pursuit; he jumps at the base of the tree and howls. Grimsby leans out, licks a front paw and purrs. One of the other wolves appears and rolls in the grass.