Harbinger of Spring (25 page)

She put her key in the door and came near to speaking aloud. It would just have to be agreed, she
’
d see to that.

She made herself a scratch lunch and ate it in the kitchen, and when she had eaten she felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to walk in
her
woodland, then climb
her
mill to the very top.

Leaving everything tidy, she ran up the stairs to change into some heavier shoes, an odd excitement possessing her. Outside, she ran across the back garden and stamped through the wet undergrowth into the woodland. Within a few seconds she found the same natural path she had used before and walked softly so as not to break the silence of the place. Occasionally she startled a bird and it winged noisily away, but for the most part they took no notice of her. Then she was surprised to hear a bird trill loudly, pause, and attempt a sort of practice run before coming into full-throated song.

Sara stopped and looked above her into the leafless branches of an oak, but could get no sight of the songster, and she felt she dared not make another move in case she broke the magic sound, but it ended within a few seconds and she walked on, wishing she had seen the bird.
Her
bird.

The path wound and twisted, destroying any sense of direction she might have had. Then to her surprise it ended at a different
corner
of her garden and she scrambled on to the hard path wondering if indeed the track had been natural or if it had been made for Great
-
aunt Esther to take her solitary walks. Poor Aunt Esther with her dislike of men! Surely there must have been another right one for her.

Sara felt her stomach contract. She had found the right man and lost him before she was properly aware of it.

Her buoyancy gone again, she walked to the Mill as if performing a duty. She opened the door and switched on the lights, but hesitated at the foot of the steps. Then
she climbed them as if tired, up and up to the topmost floor from where Hugh had done his sketching. But there was no easel standing there now and in spite of the cold, the atmosphere was stuffy with a sickly odour of decay.

Sara moved to one of the windows and after a struggle opened it. Wind rushed in, almost throwing her off her balance, and at the same time came a hollow, booming crash from far below. Dust which had not been disturbed for years eddied in clouds and the single electric bulb hanging by its flex swung wildly, setting shadows moving in a crazy pattern. Sara pushed hard against the window and at last succeeded in closing it again.

Walking down the stairs, Sara guessed the crash she had heard was made by the outside door slamming shut, but even when she approached it and was about to grasp the heavy wrought-iron ring which formed the handle, she did not realize anything was wrong. Then she gave an exclamation, as in the shadow made by herself she saw the ring at her feet.

Stooping and picking it up, she saw that the square bar which should have passed through the massive old lock had worn so thin that the violent closing of the door had snapped the bar. There was simply nothing to get hold of to turn the lock.

For a moment Sara felt inclined to laugh at her predicament. Then she realized how awkward the position was. There was very little possibility of attracting anyone
’
s attention. She would just have to devise some means of opening the door herself.

She bent down and examined the lock, hoping to find some means of getting hold of the broken bar, but she could not even catch her fingernails on it.

A thought prompted her to find something with which to smash the lock off the door.

Walking about and peering into the grinding machinery,
she looked for something she could use as a hammer, but though the place was dusty, it had been cleared of any kind of litter or debris.

It was the same on the next floor, but when she reached the top floor she saw a heavy iron bar leaning against the wall.

Picking it up, she realized that although she could carry it easily enough it would be difficult to use it as a hammer. However, there was nothing else.

Her trial blow on the top of the lock barely dented the black paint which covered it thickly. Her next, more violent swing missed the lock altogether and she came close to hitting one of her shins.

She paused, stood back and wielded the bar like a battering ram at the centre of the lock. A satisfying dent appeared in the metal plate, so, her lips firmly set, she went to work with enthusiasm.

For almost ten minutes she thumped the end of the bar against the lock, then her arms began to ache. She lowered her weapon and looked to see what damage she had done. At first sight it seemed extensive, but a closer examination showed that although the outside of the lock was very battered, no part of it had actually given way.

She gave a heavy sigh, rested for a few minutes, then began working again. The next time she stopped the palms of her hands were beginning to feel raw and she seemed to have progressed no further in her attempts to smash open the lock.

Her next effort was a shorter one and her rest period longer. Now her right shoulder ached considerably from the constant jarring, but she couldn
’
t stay here all day. Once the sun went down it would become terribly cold.

Later, every muscle aching and both her hands redraw, Sara put the bar down and went to the small-paned window. The shock of seeing that it was as dark outside
as it was in the mill almost brought her to despair, but she pulled herself together and went to sit on one of the grinding stones to rest. That was what she needed, she told herself. The lock couldn
’
t hold out for ever. It was bound to give soon—and the fact that it was dark outside didn
’
t matter in the least, so long as the light bulb didn
’
t fail.

For a time she felt nothing except her aching muscles, then the chill of the stone on which she was sitting and the cold air about her made her shiver. She got up and paced about for a while, then she seized hold of the bar again, wincing as she levelled it against the pain of her muscles. Clumsily she gave a despairing ram at the lock, then suddenly let the bar crash to the floor as she heard her name called out.

Hysterically she shouted back:
‘
Hugh! Oh, Hugh
—
I
’
m locked in
!’

She heard him rattling the handle, then he shouted again,

‘
Don
’
t worry, I
’
ll have you out within five minutes. I
’
m going for your axe. Keep well clear of the window.
’

Relief almost overwhelmed her. It seemed no time before glass was falling inward and the axe blade was slicing cleanly through the separate members of the window frame. Then Hugh spread his coat over the sill and leaned inward towards her, his eyes filled with anxiety.

‘
Are you all right?
’

She gulped to keep back tears which seemed imminent.

‘
Yes, I—I think so. My hands are a little sore, that
’
s all.
’

Involuntarily, she raised one and he gave a little exclamation.

‘
Good heavens, child, what on earth have you done to yourself? Link your arms about my neck while I haul you out of here.
’

Sara did as she was told and his long
arms reached
through the aperture to lift
her
clear
of the floor and
manoeuvre her very gently through
the narrow space.
As he set her on her feet, she felt her senses
swim. She
tried to cling to him, but felt herself
reeling. Then she
had a feeling of floating effortlessly through
the darkness
while a strong wind bore her on.

Light was the next thing she became
aware of. Then
Hugh
’
s voice, very quiet but reassuring.

‘
Lie still. You
’
ll feel better in
a
moment.
’

Suddenly he seemed to grow very
tall, but after a
moment or two Sara realized he had been
bending over
her and had straightened up. She felt the
warmth of
a blanket covering her and the softness
of a cushion
under her head.

‘
Did I pass out?
’
she asked weakly.

‘
Only for a few minutes. Now keep
quiet while I
make you a cup of tea.
’

As he walked out of the sitting room,
Sara became
acutely aware of the pain in her hands.
She winced and
moved restlessly. Then she noticed the
clock on the
mantelpiece. A quarter to ten! It was
impossible. But
the second hand was ticking
steadily on.

She closed her eyes again. Something
must be wrong
with the clock. Then she
seemed
to
hear a faint voice
in the hall, but before she could decide
whether she was
hearing rightly, Hugh was
at
her
side and helping her to
sit upright. He held
a cup for her
while
she drank tea which
was much too sweet for
her
taste.
Then he settled her back
on the pillow.

‘
I
’
ve sent for a
doctor,
’
he
told
her.
‘
He should be
here
in
about half an hour.
’

‘
A doctor! I
’
ll soon be
all
right.
’

‘
Not
with
those hands, you won
’
t. And
there
’
s the
shock
and
strain,
too. I
’
ve also
arranged
with Ted
Barker
for a
girl to
come and
look after
you for a few
days. I don
’
t know the girl, but Ted assured me she
’
s very reliable. Now just close your eyes and rest.
’

Sara obeyed and tried to ignore the stinging pain in her hands. She passed into a nightmare sort of doze and roused to find an elderly-looking man bending over her.

‘
Now then, young lady, let
’
s have a look at those hands. My goodness, you have made a mess of them, haven
’
t you?
’

The doctor worked gently but efficiently. Sara looked around and saw Martha hovering near, not a girl after all, while Ted Barker and Hugh were standing near the fireplace. She gave a slightly hysterical laugh.

‘
I
’
m making an awful lot of trouble for everyone.
’
Ted answered quietly,
‘
We think you
’
re worth taking some trouble over, Sara.
’

‘
Of course you are,
’
Martha said brightly.

Sara couldn
’
t help noticing that Hugh said nothing. The doctor stood back and scrutinized her.
‘
You
’
re still looking too pale. I
’
ll give you a sedative and once you
’
ve had a good night
’
s sleep you should be all right.
’
He stood back.
‘
If one of you men would help her up the stairs?
’

‘
I
’
ll manage all right,
’
Sara said in a sort of panic. She tried to rise, but Hugh stepped to her side and lifted her easily.

A few minutes later, with Martha
’
s help, Sara was settled comfortably in bed. She heard a car moving away from the back of the house, but as the sound of it died away she felt herself drifting into space. For a moment or two she struggled against the feeling. Then it seemed to her that she was once again being held in Hugh
’
s arms and that he was whispering softly to her,
‘
Be still. Everything will be quite all right.
’