A Dangerous Fortune(6)
Maisie was appalled. Papa never cried. It seemed to mean the end of any hope. Perhaps they would all die now.
Danny stood up, looked at Maisie, and jerked his head toward the door. She got up and together they tiptoed out of the room. Maisie sat on the front step and began to cry. “What are we going to do?” she said.
“We’ll have to run away,” Danny said.
Danny’s words gave her a cold feeling in her chest. “We can’t,” she said.
“We must. There’s no food. If we stay we’ll die.”
Maisie didn’t care if she died, but a different thought occurred to her: Mama would surely starve herself to feed the children. If they stayed, she would die. They had to leave to save her. “You’re right,” Maisie said to Danny. “If we go, perhaps Papa will be able to find enough food for Mama. We’ve got to go, for her sake.” Hearing herself say the words, she was awestruck by what was happening to her family. It was worse even than the day they had left Viskis, with the village houses still burning behind them, and got on a cold train with all their belongings in two sailcloth bags; for then she had known that Papa would always look after her, no matter what else happened; and now she had to take care of herself.
“Where will we go?” she said in a whisper.
“I’m going to America.”
“America! How?”
“There’s a ship in the harbor that’s bound for Boston on the morning tide—I’ll shin up a rope tonight and hide on deck in one of the boats.”
“You’ll stow away,” Maisie said, with fear and admiration in her voice.
“That’s right.”
Looking at her brother, she saw for the first time that there was the shadow of a moustache beginning to show on his upper lip. He was becoming a man, and one day he would have a full black beard like Papa’s. “How long does it take to get to America?” she asked him.
He hesitated, then looked foolish and said: “I don’t know.”
She understood that she was not included in his plans, and she felt miserable and scared. “We’re not going together, then,” she said sadly.
He looked guilty, but he did not contradict her. “I’ll tell you what you should do,” he said. “Go to Newcastle. You can walk there in about four days. It’s a huge city, bigger than Gdansk—no one will notice you there. Cut your hair, steal a pair of trousers and pretend to be a boy. Go to a big stables and help with the horses—you’ve always been good with horses. If they like you, you’ll get tips, and after a while they might give you a proper job.”
Maisie could not imagine being totally alone. “I’d rather go with you,” she said.
“You can’t. It’s going to be hard enough anyway, to hide myself on the ship, and steal food and so on. I couldn’t look after you too.”
“You wouldn’t have to look after me. I’d be quiet as a mouse.”
“I’d feel worried about you.”
“Won’t you worry about leaving me all on my own?”
“We’ve got to take care of ourselves!” he said angrily.
She saw that his mind was made up. She had never been able to talk him round when his mind was made up. With dread in her heart she said: “When should we go? In the morning?”
He shook his head. “Now. I’ll need to get aboard the ship as soon as it’s dark.”
“Do you really mean it?”
“Yes.” As if to prove it, he stood up.
She stood up too. “Should we take anything?”
“What?”
She shrugged. She had no spare clothes, no souvenirs, no possessions of any kind. There was no food or money to take. “I want to kiss Mama good-bye,” she said.
“Don’t,” said Danny harshly. “If you do, you’ll stay.”
It was true. If she saw Mama now she would break down and tell everything. She swallowed hard. “All right,” she said, fighting back the tears. “I’m ready.”
They walked away side by side.
When they got to the end of the street she wanted to turn around and take a last look at the house; but she was afraid that if she did she would weaken; so she walked on, and never looked back.
4
FROM The Times:
CHARACTER OF THE ENGLISH SCHOOLBOY.—The Deputy-Coroner for Ashton, Mr. H. S. Wasbrough, held an inquest yesterday at the Station Hotel, Windfield, on the body of Peter James St John Middleton, aged 13, a schoolboy. The boy had been swimming in a pool at a disused quarry near Windfield School when two older boys had seen him apparently in difficulties, the court was told. One of the older boys, Miguel Miranda, a native of Cordova, gave evidence that his companion, Edward Pilaster, aged 16, stripped off his outer clothing and dived in to try to save the younger boy, but to no avail. The headmaster of Windfield, Dr Herbert Poleson, testified that the quarry was out of bounds to pupils, but he was aware that the rule was not always obeyed. The jury returned a verdict of accidental death by drowning. The Deputy-Coroner then called attention to the bravery of Edward Pilaster in trying to save the life of his friend, and said the character of the English schoolboy, as formed by such institutions as Windfield, was a thing of which we might justifiably feel proud.
5
MICKY MIRANDA WAS CAPTIVATED by Edward’s mother.