Four Children and It Read online

  Then Dad started calling for me and calling for Smash. I didn’t hear Smash answer so I didn’t either. Maybe I’d manage to stay hidden away all day long and they’d go off on their walk and have their picnic without me.

  No such luck. Dad tracked me down like a bloodhound. He flung the larder door open and discovered me in seconds.

  ‘Rosalind, what are you playing at?’ he demanded.

  ‘Hide-and-seek?’ I said.

  ‘For goodness’ sake. Can’t you act your age? You’re the oldest. You’re meant to set an example,’ Dad said.

  I wished I wasn’t the oldest. I wished I was the youngest, little and cute like Maudie, everybody’s favourite.

  It took Dad much longer to track down Smash. We looked all over the house but there was no sign of her. That was because she wasn’t in the house. Dad and Alice started searching the garden. She wasn’t technically in the garden either – she was above it, halfway up the big lime tree at the back.

  Alice made a fuss, saying it was dangerous, and then she made a further fuss when she saw Smash had got her white T-shirt grimy. So it was quite a while before we were all rounded up and ready, practically lunchtime.

  ‘We could just as well have the picnic here in the garden, without having to lump all this stuff about,’ said Alice, juggling rucksacks and carrier bags.

  ‘Nonsense! I know a perfect picnic place in Oxshott woods,’ said Dad. ‘I used to go on picnics there when I was a kid. We used to bike over from Kingston. It’s wonderful there. I want the kids to see how lovely it is.’

  Robbie and I exchanged glances. He’d never tried to take us there all the years he’d lived at home with Mum.

  We set off for these woods. Dad had the big rucksack on his back, Alice had a bulging bag-for-life in one hand and held Maudie by the other. I carried a canvas bag full of fruit and Robbie clutched a bag of paper plates and cups and a bottle cooler of wine for Dad and Alice. Smash carried a string bag of Coke and fizzy lemonade. She swung it wildly round and round, obviously intent on making them explode.

  We plodded along the pavement for a long time, past row after row of suburban semis just like Dad’s.

  ‘Funny-looking countryside,’ Smash remarked.

  ‘We’re nearly in the country. Stride on,’ said Dad. ‘Breathe in all that healthy fresh air.’

  ‘The country, the country, the country!’ Maudie chanted, hanging on to Alice and Dad as they swung her along between them.

  We walked on and on. The roads got busier and busier until there was such a roar of traffic we could hardly hear each other.

  ‘Let’s fill our lungs with all the healthy fresh petrol fumes,’ said Smash.

  The houses gradually grew bigger, and retreated down driveways. Alice gazed enviously at each large house, trying to decide which she liked the best. There were several for sale, which excited her. She even rang one estate agent on her mobile to find out the asking price.

  ‘It’s more than a million!’ she said, round-eyed, switching off her phone.

  ‘Of course it is,’ Dad said irritably. ‘Completely out of our price range.’

  ‘Well, obviously. But I reckon we could just about afford to trade up a bit, especially if I work longer hours when Maudie starts school – and if you get another promotion. There’d be enough money coming in, if only we didn’t have so many commitments.’

  She wasn’t looking at Robbie and me, but I knew she meant us. Dad paid Mum for our keep every month and I think Alice had to give Smash’s dad money too. It wasn’t our fault, but it somehow felt as if it was.

  I slowed down to walk beside Robbie, who was lagging behind. He clutched his paper sack awkwardly, red in the face with effort.

  ‘Here, give me that wine cooler. It must weigh a ton,’ I said.

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ said Robbie, breathing heavily.

  I grabbed his sack and felt for the wine cooler. My hands scrabbled over many manes and haunches and tails. I raised my eyebrows.

  ‘I thought my animals might like to roam free in these woods,’ said Robbie.

  ‘I don’t think we’re ever going to get to these woods. They probably don’t exist any more. All the trees round here got chopped down donkey’s years ago so they could build all these big houses,’ I said.

  But after an endless trudge we crossed a main road and suddenly there we were, walking in woods at last.

  ‘Right, let’s have this picnic. I’m starving,’ said Smash, sitting down cross-legged.

  ‘No, not here, where we can still hear the traffic! We’ll go further into the woods. When I was a boy we always had our picnics by the sandpit.’

  ‘There’s a sandpit in my book,’ I said. ‘That’s where the children found the Psammead.’

  But no one seemed remotely interested.

  Maudie had long since started to droop, and Dad was struggling to carry her as well as the big rucksack – but she perked up when he said the word sandpit.

  ‘A sandpit!’ she repeated enthusiastically, clapping her hands.

  ‘You didn’t tell us there was a sandpit,’ said Alice. ‘She loves playing in the sandpit at nursery, don’t you, Maudie love?’

  ‘This is a great big natural sandpit in the middle of the woods. I remember thinking it was just like the seaside,’ said Dad. ‘We should have brought your little bucket and spade, eh, Maudie?’

  We tramped further and further into the woods, struggling uphill now. There was no sign of this sandpit.

  ‘Who cares about the wretched sandpit,’ said Smash. ‘Let’s have the picnic here.’ She flung herself down on the grass and took off her fabulous trainers. They were obviously brand new, sparkling with emerald-green sequins. I had been eyeing them enviously until I saw the red marks on Smash’s feet.

  ‘I’ve got blisters, look! Really huge terrible blisters because you’ve made me walk miles and miles and miles,’ she wailed.

  ‘You should have worn socks. I told you back at home. It’s your own fault,’ said Alice. ‘Do stop making such a silly fuss. Come on, let’s walk just a little further.’

  ‘I hate walking,’ said Smash.

  ‘It’s good exercise – and you really need it. Your father lets you slump around the house and drives you everywhere in that fancy car. It’s not good for you,’ Alice fussed.

  ‘It’s not good for me being marched along through this dreary wood for hours when my feet are practically bleeding – look!’ said Smash. ‘I’m not going a step further.’ She crossed her arms defiantly.

  But then we heard Robbie shouting. He’d wandered on through the trees, but now he came running back.

  ‘I’ve found the sandpit!’ he called. ‘I can see it, all golden, through the trees. Come on!’

  So we all went to look, even Smash, swinging her sparkly shoes by the laces and walking barefoot. Robbie had sounded excited, but the sandpit was rather a disappointment. Even Dad seemed a bit cast down.

  ‘I’m sure there was more sand when I was a kid. And it was a real pit. You slid down into it. It was such fun.’ He looked reproachfully at the sandy hollow under the pine trees as if it had shrunk itself on purpose. He put Maudie and the rucksack down and gave the sand a little kick with his canvas deck shoe. ‘You can’t really play in it now,’ he said, mopping his forehead.

  ‘It’s still a lovely spot,’ said Alice, sitting down gracefully. The skirt of her pink dress spread out around her, so that she looked like a flower. She arched her back, one hand on her tiny waist, the other combing her long blonde hair. ‘It’s so hot,’ she said, though she looked completely cool and composed.

  I didn’t like her at all, because she had lured Dad away. I especially didn’t like her being so pretty. I thought of our mum with a pang. She had messy mousy hair scragged back in a little ponytail, and ever since Robbie was born she kept saying she was going on a diet, but she never actually got round to it.

  Dad sat down eagerly beside Alice, cheered up already.

  ‘Picnic time!’ he annou
nced, delving in the rucksack.

  It was a very good picnic. We had bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches and cheese and tuna ciabattas and hard-boiled eggs sprinkled with salt with crisp toast triangles. There was an asparagus quiche, and little chipolatas and a vegetable dip. We had a blackberry and apple pie for pudding with Greek yoghurt, and peaches and grapes and clementines. The Coke and lemonade fizzed spectacularly when Smash opened them, but there was still enough for us to drink, while Dad and Alice shared the wine.

  We ate solidly for twenty minutes – and then the picnic was over.

  ‘What do we do now?’ said Smash, gobbling the last of the sausages.

  ‘Smash, for goodness’ sake, stop it! You’ll burst!’ said Alice.

  ‘You go and play now, while Alice and I have a little nap,’ said Dad, lying back, using the rucksack as a pillow.

  ‘You have a little nap too, Maudie,’ said Alice. She made her cuddle down beside her. Maudie lay still for a minute or two, and then wriggled free, deciding she’d have much more fun playing with us.

  ‘Let’s climb trees,’ said Smash.

  ‘But we’re not allowed,’ I said.

  Smash rolled her eyes. She pointed to Dad and Alice who were fast asleep already.

  ‘Come on, I dare you,’ said Smash, running through the trees, away from the parents. I picked up Maudie, and Robbie and I trailed after her reluctantly. I didn’t want to try climbing any of the tall spindly pine trees all around us, but it’s very difficult when someone dares you – particularly someone like Smash.

  ‘Come on, it’s easy-peasy,’ said Smash, starting to climb the nearest tree. ‘Let’s all climb this one.’

  She was already way above our heads. Robbie looked up at her, his face white. Robbie isn’t a very sporty kind of boy. He’s also terrified of heights.

  ‘You look after Maudie,’ I said, transferring her to Robbie’s arms. He clutched her like a shield.

  ‘There. Right. I’ll give it a go,’ I said, reaching for the first branch.

  I decided I’d show her. I pretended not to be scared. It seemed relatively easy at first. The branches were close together, sticking out at convenient angles, so it was just like going up a ladder. I climbed steadily. Maybe it really was easy-peasy.

  ‘Come on, slowcoach!’ Smash shouted, from way up high.

  I looked up at her. She was right at the top, where the pine tree thinned out dramatically. The trunk was spindly and Smash seemed to be swaying in the wind. I felt my picnic stirring uneasily in my stomach.

  ‘Come back down a bit!’ I shouted, but she just laughed at me.

  ‘Smash, it’s dangerous!’ I called.

  ‘No, this is dangerous,’ said Smash, and she let go of the trunk with one hand and waved wildly down to Robbie and Maudie.

  I looked down too, which was a big mistake. I felt sicker than ever. My brother and little half-sister looked like tiny toys.

  ‘Come down, Rosalind!’ Robbie called, and Maudie started wailing. Their voices sounded like little mouse squeaks.

  I wanted to come down, but my arms and legs had started trembling and I didn’t dare move in case I lost my grip altogether.

  ‘Oh dear, is little diddums stuck?’ Smash called down mockingly.

  It was enough to goad me into action again.

  ‘Of course I’m not stuck, stupid,’ I lied. ‘I’m just having a rest. Looking about. Surveying the world.’

  ‘Come up here then!’

  ‘There’s not room for both of us. And – and you’re too heavy. The tree will snap in half if we’re both up there. You come down.’ I paused, trying desperately to think of some other way to persuade her. ‘You’re frightening Maudie – she’s crying.’

  Smash stopped waving and held on to the trunk properly. She didn’t like me. She certainly didn’t like poor Robs. She didn’t like our dad and she didn’t seem to like her mum either. The only person she really seemed fond of was Maudie.

  ‘It’s okay, Maudie! I’m coming down now,’ she called, and she started swiftly descending, hand over hand, sliding sometimes. She passed me in a flash, and I forced myself to follow her.

  When I was down on the ground at last I could hardly stand. I’d read the phrase ‘My legs had turned to jelly’ in umpteen books, but I’d never really understood it before. My legs wobbled ridiculously inside my jeans, so much so I wasn’t sure they would actually hold me up.

  ‘Wow, Rosalind!’ said Robbie, looking at me in awe.

  ‘Like Smash said, it was easy-peasy,’ I lied.

  Smash was rubbing her arms. She had burn marks from sliding down too fast, and her T-shirt was filthy now, but she didn’t seem to care.

  ‘Here, Maudie,’ she said, wrestling her away from Robbie and giving her a hug. ‘I’m fine, see. You’ll be able to climb trees just like Smash when you’re a bit bigger. I’ll show you,’ she said. Then she looked at Robbie. ‘It’s your turn now.’

  ‘Robbie’s too small to climb trees,’ I said quickly.

  ‘No, he’s not! Go on, Robbie. I dare you,’ said Smash.

  Robbie looked agonized, his eyes huge.

  ‘You don’t have to do dares, Robs,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, you do,’ said Smash. ‘You’re a coward if you don’t.’

  ‘No, it’s much braver not to do a dare,’ I said – though I hadn’t been this sort of brave.

  Robbie looked at Smash anxiously. She was relentless.

  ‘You’re just chicken, aren’t you?’ she said, and she started clucking offensively. Maudie clucked too, thinking it was a game. ‘There, even Maudie thinks you’re a coward,’ said Smash.

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Robbie, but tears were brimming in his eyes.

  ‘Oh, look, he’s a crybaby now,’ said Smash.

  ‘Leave him alone,’ I said fiercely.

  ‘He is a baby. He doesn’t even dare go halfway up,’ said Smash.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Robbie said. ‘I’ll show you.’

  He spat on his hands the way he’d seen tough men do in old films and then he sprang up to catch hold of the first branch. He wasn’t very good at springing. He missed the branch entirely and banged his poor nose smack against the tree trunk.

  Smash laughed so much she nearly fell over.

  ‘Shut up!’ I said, and rushed to Robbie.

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Robbie, scarlet in the face. ‘I meant to do that. I was mucking about, to make Maudie laugh. Leave me alone, Rosalind. I’m going to climb this tree.’

  He tried again, stretching for the branch instead of springing, and just about managed to grab hold. Then he scrabbled desperately with his feet, trying to make them walk up the trunk to the next branch. His trainers seemed to have turned into roller skates because he kept sliding down. But he got one foot on to the next branch at long last and hauled himself up. He hovered there precariously, barely above our heads.

  ‘Go on then,’ said Smash. ‘Goodness, Maudie could climb that far!’

  Robbie tried again, waving his hands towards the next branch. He got some kind of grip, scrabbled with his feet again, almost made it – and then slipped. He came sliding down the tree and landed bump on his bottom.

  ‘Oh, Robs,’ I said, desperate to check he was all right and yet not wanting to humiliate him further.

  Robbie got up very shakily. He tested one leg, then the other, and shook his arms gingerly.

  ‘Where do you hurt?’ I asked.

  He thought. ‘Everywhere,’ he said. ‘I think I might have broken something.’

  ‘I’ll go and wake Dad.’

  ‘No!’ said Robbie, and he limped off towards the sandpit, desperate to get away from us.

  Smash laughed again, but she was forcing it. Maudie put her thumb in her mouth, looking worried.

  ‘Robbie?’ she said indistinctly, sucking.

  ‘I think he’s all right,’ I said. I glared at Smash. ‘No thanks to you. Stop picking on him.’

  ‘Why? It’s fun. He’s pathetic,’ she said. ‘Ca
n’t even climb a tree!’ She picked Maudie up, and whirled her round and round. ‘Cheer up, Maudie. You’re on the Smash roundabout now. Wheee!’

  I wandered over to Robbie, who was sitting in the sand, his head bent.

  ‘Stop following me,’ he mumbled.

  ‘I’m not. I’m simply sitting in the sandpit. Hey, maybe we can make some kind of sandcastle for Maudie. She’d like that.’

  ‘We haven’t got any buckets and spades.’

  ‘We’ll improvise.’ I went over to the picnic remains beside Dad and Alice. They were still fast asleep, cuddled up together. I shuddered and picked up a couple of paper cups and plates. They proved useless for digging because the sand was dark gold and heavy – but I had more luck with Maudie’s plastic feeder cup. I knelt down and started digging.

  Robbie took his lion out of his pocket and encouraged it to roam across the sand. It roared softly in appreciation. He went to fetch his other animals and set them all free in this exciting new desert. I watched carefully, but he wasn’t limping. It was peaceful, just the two of us – but after a few minutes Smash came running up, pulling Maudie along with her.

  ‘What are you two doing?’ she asked.

  ‘Robbie’s discovered a new Serengeti and I’m building a Taj Mahal,’ I said.

  ‘You what?’ said Smash, squatting down beside us.

  Maudie reached for her feeder cup.

  ‘Want a drinkie,’ she said, and cried when she saw it was covered in sand.

  ‘It’s okay, Maudie. I’ll wash it out for you in a minute – but now we’re digging, see? I’m making you a lovely sandcastle.’

  Maudie peered at my little heap of sand as if it might just rearrange itself into a fairytale palace. Nothing happened.

  ‘Want a drinkie,’ she insisted, reaching for the cup again.

  ‘In a minute, just wait until I’ve dug a little more,’ I said. ‘Help me, you two!’

  Robbie obediently herded his animals back into his pockets and started scrabbling with his fingers.

  ‘You’re useless,’ Smash said unkindly. ‘Like this!’ She got down on her hands and knees and started digging determinedly. ‘See?’