Billy and the Golden Gate (6 page)

Back inside the cottage, Rufus stacks the wood and kindling he has gathered beside the now empty and clean hearth. He neatly sets the fire and sparks it to life by cracking two pieces of flint off each other. It's painstaking, but after determined attempts the sparks catch hold and a smoky plume wafts out.

Billy leaves all his gatherings beside the big sink – they'll need to be scrubbed. The nettles are the trickiest bit; they are still wrapped in his hoodie. Billy upends the nettles into the sink and lets the water splash over them. The water turns a rust colour and washes down the sink. Billy carefully prods some of the leaves and then waits. He turns the tap back on and lets out more water. He then prods them a second time and then starts pulling the leaves off the stalks – the sting is gone.

A thumping sound comes from the bedroom – sort of
thump
,
whack
,
thump
. Daisy is belting the old mattress with the poker, giving it a good airing. Screech peeks in the door and is hit with a wall of dust. He sneezes.

Daisy turns around. “Well, if you have enough time to stand there and watch me, you can help.” She pauses. “Let's get this outside.”

Peter and Daisy yank the mattress off the bed and drag it out the back. They stand it against the rear wall and Daisy lets rip. By the time she has finished, the once grey mattress is now a creamy white colour.

“Peter,” she says loudly, “job done. Help me put this back on the bed.”

Peter says, “OK, I'll be your knight in shining armour.” He smirks.

“Ah huh, ah huh, whatever you say, Peter, whatever you say,” Daisy replies. The intent is clear, she means precisely the opposite.

Billy has gathered up the eggs and Rufus is helping by boiling water over the fire. There's an iron rod that spans the top half of the hearth and all the pots hang from it. When the water has started to gurgle, Rufus lifts the pot off and carries it over to the sink using a pair of iron tongs. Billy joins him and the pair of them get to work cleaning, scrubbing and cooking.

Daisy is still pottering around the bedroom and finds a comb, some cloth and a towel that looks like it's never been used. She purses her lips and thinks for a moment,
This could be tricky
. She glances out the bedroom door and looks at the old lady, who is still snoozing. Daisy makes up her mind.

“Excuse me,” she says and prods the old lady on her shoulder. The old lady opens her eyes and looks at Daisy. “I'd like to do your hair,” Daisy says, “but I need a mirror and there's one in your bedroom, Missus… em, sorry, but you never told me your name.”

“Is Madge,” the old lady replies. “My hair is fine,” she says suspiciously.

Daisy thinks for a moment.

“Well yes, but I found a hairpin in your room. It's really pretty; it would look lovely pinning up someone's hair.”

Madge susses this out. Her lips compress in thought creating more lines and more wrinkles, a bit like a dried prune except pink, and then she remembers.

“The silver hairpin? The one with the circle on it?”

Daisy nods.

Madge says very quietly, “Oh, OK.” She slowly eases herself out of the chair, leaning heavily on the armrests. The chair creaks with all the added force and buckles slightly, but for all that it is sturdy enough and Madge stands up on her own.

Daisy knows better than to help her so she just allows her time to amble over to the bedroom.

“Rufus, any water left?”

“Yeah, just boiled up another pot. I'll carry it in for you Daisy.”

“I am perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know,” she retorts.

Rufus looks at her. “I know, I just want to carry it for you. I am stronger than you and it will be easier for me. That's all.”

“Well just so as you know,” she says primly, and funnily enough with a hint of softness.

*

In the bedroom Madge sits on her bed, her legs crossed at the ankle and her hands folded on her lap. The hairpin is sitting on the bedside chair, along with a wide- toothed comb. Beside Madge, on the bed, Daisy has laid out an almost white dress. It is made of cotton and is lined, and it looks warm and clean. There are also undergarments and a pair of thick woolly tights.

Daisy walks in and closes the door behind her.

Madge watches her. “What's all this then,” she says.

Daisy replies, “Well, I found those,” she gestures at the clothes “and I thought you might like to wear them?”

“Well I ain't undressing in front of you.”

Daisy pauses. “Hmm, I figure you and me, well, we're both girls aren't we, nothing I haven't seen before,” she shrugs.

Madge looks at the water and the clothes. A wash and changing into a fresh dress is very appealing. She wrinkles her lips in thought.

Daisy waits and waits, and waits.

Madge looks at her, top to tail.

“I don't want my hair mad, mind, like yours, and you can help me but I is doin it.” Madge tilts her head, an air of dignity beams out.

“That's fine by me,” Daisy says deliberately. “It's not everyone my hair would suit,” she finishes in an airy tone.

“Indeed.” Madge starts to unbutton her dress; her hands are very knobbly and she has trouble with the small pernickety buttons. Gently, Daisy starts to help. They take off all Madge's clothes – she is painfully thin. Her skin creases and is covered in age spots; she has sores in her armpits and along her legs. Daisy breathes in very quickly when she sees them, like a gasp, but if Madge noticed she doesn't let on.

“Madge, can I?” Daisy has the washcloth in her hands, wet and soapsuddy. Daisy feels her chest heave but her voice is steady.

Madge nods.

Together, they bathe Madge. It takes time and gentleness as the sores are, well, sore. When they are finished, Daisy takes the towel and pats Madge dry, taking extra care around the tender spots. Putting the clothes on, especially the tights, takes ages but Daisy goes at it slowly and, eventually, the job is done.

The hair is another matter altogether; it is so matted Daisy has to wet it through and start combing from the tips in. Concentrated patience is the only way to tackle it. Halfway up, Daisy stops.

“OK, I'll be back in just one second.”

She opens the bedroom door and runs into the pantry. Nothing, then she calls out to the boys, “Anyone find any powder, you know, like talc, or actually maybe oil or wax?”

Peter replies, “Here Daisy,” and he hands what looks like a jar of some sort of hair oil to her.

“Lunch is nearly ready,” Billy says.

“And the soup,” Rufus says.

Rex is still outside, howling at Grimsby. Grimsby is suspiciously silent.

Daisy resumes the combing, now adding some drops of oil to help ease out the knots. It must hurt but Madge never complains. Finally, her hair, silver white and darker grey in parts, is combed through. It is long but not as long as Daisy expected. She weaves it into a wide plait and pins it up with the circle hairpin.

“See what you think,” she says to Madge.

Madge, moving slowly, eases her way off the bed and walks over to the old mirror. She starts smiling to herself; and says, “That'll do.”

Daisy sees the half smile and just replies with, “You look good.”

*

The smells from the kitchen do not match those of Gunner Sharpie's, but, considering, they aren't half bad. The boys have laid the table; odds and ends of crockery with chips missing and lots of different patterns – some plates have birds, others have flowers and some have nothing at all.

Madge walks into the kitchen. She is standing up straight even though it must take an awful lot of effort. She walks over to her chair and sits down, she looks very regal.

“Well yis are after makin a right mess here. Look at all them pots; they'll need cleaning.”

The boys are too busy to reply. Rufus ladles soup into bowls and Billy puts the finishing touches on the mushroomy, garlicy omelette. Peter has some scones crusting nicely over the open fire.

They serve Madge first. She looks at the assorted plates in astonishment. “Eh, where'd ye get all this from then?”

Peter replies, “Here and there; here and there. Best tuck in, before it gets cold.”

Madge starts to eat. She chews very slowly, very deliberately, savouring every element of taste. Her voice says, “Not bad,” but her face says:
it's
the nicest
,
loveliest meal I've ever had
.

Rufus, Peter, Billy and Daisy take a portion each, just enough and there is still food left in the pots and pans. They glance at Madge during their meal, eager to see her eat. She finishes everything.

Peter says, “There's lots more, will you have some more?”

She nods.

Rex runs in and barks, he's just after smelling the food. As important as it is to keep that cat imprisoned in the tree, Rex is hungry. Rufus is halfway through his omelette and scone, when he sees Rex. He stops eating.

“Rex, here… here boy.” Rufus takes his plate and puts it on the floor. Rex scoots over and demolishes the rest of Rufus's food in about thirty seconds. When he is finished, he gives the plate one last lick just in case. Then he runs back outside. The growling and barking resume. Rufus sighs. He looks at the pots but leaves his plate back on the table.

Everyone except Madge has finished eating. Billy gets up and sorts out the berries that he picked earlier. He spoons them into a pot and adds a bit of sugar. He heats them gently over the fire. By the time they are heated up, Madge is done with her food and Billy fills five small dessert bowls with the berries. Daisy pops them down on the table, serving Madge first.

“Well then, what's dis?” Her lips glisten and when she swallows her first spoon of dessert, her face glows in complete ecstasy. Billy smiles.

The sweetened berries are delicious.

When all are finished eating, Rufus and Peter clear up the dishes, bringing them to the sink and using the remaining hot water to wash up. Peter washes; his glasses fog up from the steam as he scrubs and cleans. From time to time, Rufus hands him back a few of the plates where he's missed a bit.

Daisy skips outside to check the sheets and clothes that she washed. They are bone dry though they feel really cold. The wind has done its job.

“Billy!” she calls out. “Billy, I want to dress the bed.”

Seconds later, Billy is beside her. They gather up everything and bring it to Madge's bedroom. The clothes are neatly folded and stacked in the bedside locker. The sheets are straightened out and the bed made. It gleams. Daisy smiles, proud as punch.

“Madge, your bed's made.”

Madge looks at her and grumbles. “Sure it was grand,” she says. Daisy ignores her; she keeps smiling.

With the house cleaned it takes on a comfortable cosy air, but the best thing is how Daisy, Peter, Rufus and Billy feel, which is good. Rex is still in a mood and barking away as Grimsby stares down at him – he's not budging.

Billy hears the bell; it has started tinkling in his bag.

“Time for us to go,” he says.

The four of them gather their coats, hoodies, helmets, bags and prepare to head off.

Madge says, “Mind yer dun't break nothin' on yer way out.”

Billy turns to her. “There's food still in those pots, so make sure you eat it later when you are hungry. It will keep you good, and there's lots and lots of firewood – keep warm,” he says simply, clearly.

Madge looks directly at Billy. “Mind yourself and those friends of yours, young Billy Spade.” She is almost glowing, must have been the nettle soup.

Billy nods. When the four of them are outside, Daisy says, “How did she know your name?” She thinks for a moment. “Bet there's just a bit of witch in her.”

“Well, either way, I'm just really glad we helped her Daisy. You were great by the way,” Billy says.

Billy digs out the watch again and they resume their westward-bound journey. Rufus hangs back, yelling at Rex.

“Rex, now come on, that cat will be there on our way back; he's not going anywhere!” Rex looks at Rufus, then makes a half-hearted growl, for the sound of it, turns and glares up at Grimsby. Grimsby swishes his tail, yawns and smiles.

Rex follows the four, huffily.

“Will we look at the map, just cause?” Peter asks, adding the ‘just cause' to pre-empt Daisy.

Daisy stays quiet, lost in her flourishing thoughts.

Billy takes off his backpack and opens it. He pulls out the book and unfolds the map; by the look of it, they are not too far from the quarry. The direction they are headed is still sound.

Peter pushes at his glasses and studies the detail.

“Have you been to the quarry before?”

Billy and Rufus both nod.

“It looks big,” Daisy says.

“Yeah, it's big, full of water too,” Rufus replies. “Rex, you're gonna have to stick with me.” Rex looks at Rufus and lifts one eyebrow. It's the oddest expression, for a dog.

“The wolves are still there,” Peter mutters, glancing around behind them. “All five.” Peter is wearing his helmet; it bobs as he turns his head.

Daisy looks at Peter and rolls her eyes.

“Well, we are just fine. They are just keeping us company,” she says emphatically.

“Wonder what time it is,” Rufus says.

Billy replies, “Sun is still high.”

They walk for what feels like ages, but eventually they get to the end of the forest. When they clear the forest, the land fills with scrub grass, framed by a dense hedge.

“Hmmm, I think we are going to have to get through that somehow,” Billy says thoughtfully.

Daisy points at one part, “Looks like there might be a bit of a gap there.”

When they get to the hedge, they realise Daisy is correct. She looks smug but says nothing, not even ‘I told you so'. They have to crawl in, but the ground is dry and the brambles are high enough not to bother them. They climb up and up. The ground is steep and Peter's helmet keeps on getting caught in the thorns, resulting in a lot of minor screeching.

It feels like forever but they get to the top. Rex has picked up a bone; he flops down and starts chewing and chomping at it.

They are super-high up and can see the whole quarry. It is massive. There are four pools the size of football pitches. The first pool is flanked by hedge and trees, and feeds into the second pool – there, the banks are steep and sheer. The third pool is straight in front of them, long and thin, and the fourth is just towards the right of them, again steep banks. It is darker and looks very deep.

There are no birds, no bats; in fact, there is no sound whatsoever. The quarry seems empty of life.

Daisy says, “I don't much like it here.”

The three boys are quiet.

Daisy says, “I don't like it at all.”

“Yeah, know what you mean, Daisy. The water is poisonous, you know – think if you fell in, you'd shrivel up. Like a really old orange before it turns mouldy,” Rufus says. “Birds don't like it here cause the water turns their beaks lemon and then the worms can see them and then…” Rufus trails off.

“What? Like a proper lemon, with pips and all?” Peter says.

“No! Oh Screech. Like yellow, you know,” Rufus replies seriously.

Billy looks straight ahead. “We're going that way,” he says, pointing west. It means going straight through the quarry. “We're going to have to go round the edge.”

Suddenly, Gunner Sharpie appears, as if out of nowhere.

“Well now, isn't this a fine coincidence,” he says.

“How'd you get here?” Daisy asks.

“A little bit of respect would do you no harm at all, young lady,” Gunner Sharpie says briskly.

Daisy narrows her eyes. “Uh huh, how'd you get here, sir?”

“There's a good girl,” he says. “I fish here, don't you know.”

“But…” Rufus starts.

“That's it, that's it, well it is fine to see my young adventurers once again – blessed am I,” he beams at them.

“Mr Sharpie, it might be a bit dangerous here for you,” Billy says.

“Don't you worry, son, I'll be right careful. Aren't you the thoughtful fella,” he replies kindly.

Daisy looks at him.

“OK,” Billy says. “Let's go this way.”

Billy turns to his right and starts to walk around the quarry. The ground veers between a dry scrub and squelchy mud, particularly where it dips near the water. Peter glances back, the wolves are still following but the distance between them has lengthened just a bit.

“We'll just take it nice and slow,” Billy says.

Once they get moving, Rufus calls out to Rex, “Come on Rex, come on boy!” Rex looks at Rufus, then looks at his bone. He whines but gets up, leaving the bone behind him.

They have to take their time as they walk the perimeter of the quarry, as the ground is treacherous.

Gunner Sharpie scans the quarry, peering intensely at the water.

“I'll hazard a guess you young ones would love to go for a swim, would do you the world of good.”

Daisy watches him carefully.

Rufus says, “Oh we're too busy for that, Mr Sharpie.”

“Is that right? When I was a young fella, oh Lord, all I'd have wanted was to swim in such a lovely lookin' stretch of water,” he replies.

Peter looses his footing and scrabbles at the pebbly bank. He starts sliding down to the water, but Daisy and Billy see him in time and rush after him. Daisy grabs hold of his helmet; it pulls off but gives Billy just enough time to grab his arm before he hits the water. When they are steadied, the three of them sit down. The fastener on Peter's helmet is broken but that is the worst of the damage. Daisy hands back his helmet and Peter inspects it with an air of dejection.

“That's it then, helmets broke now. This day just gets better and better,” Peter says.

Daisy retorts, “Peter, your bike was broke and your helmet never fit you properly anyway! Stop feeling so sorry for yourself.”

“Well that's easy for you to say, little miss perfect.”

Uncharacteristically, Billy cuts in. “Pack it in you two, we need to keep going. Peter, take it handy and watch your step,” he finishes seriously.

All five, plus Gunner Sharpie, walk on. Rex stays close to Rufus, his nose touching Rufus's calf from time to time. To Rufus, this is most unusual but highly gratifying.

The five wolves track them, but have veered further away from the quarry, keeping their distance from the water.

Billy and everyone have almost reached the far side of the quarry when the banks give way and a gap of maybe seven feet widens. Far below, the water rests flatly.