Finding the North Star

CHAPTER 6 FLIGHT

The walk back down the track to the farm was a lonely one. The wind played tricks rustling the dry grass and Becky looked around hopefully. Yet she knew that even if Kip did come running up, she would have to say goodbye all over again and she didn't think she could do that.

She hummed a little tune to keep herself company – and to try and forget. She pictured the adventure before her. She couldn't remember crossing the ocean all those years ago, but people had told her that it was exciting and she began to wonder for the first time what it was going to be like. She and Mary must be on their guard – especially now that Kip would not be there to protect them. As Hamish said, it was up to Becky to look out for Mary now.

Coming from the fields to the farm meant the back end of the barn came into view first and Becky was surprised to see Mary hiding there, occasionally peeking around the corner and looking toward the house. When she saw Becky, she waved madly at her to get out of view and off the path. Becky did and found herself in a patch of nettles. She was about to cry out, but before she could utter a sound Mary was at her side pulling her back to the hiding spot behind the barn. Becky's face and hands soon broke out in painful red blotches that burned and itched all at the same time. Mary remained oblivious from the nettling on the back of her own hands, being in such a high level of excitement – or perhaps fear.

"What is it Mary?" Becky scratched the back of her hands, spitting on them, rubbing frantically to stop the pain.

"John was wrong. The Justice of the Peace is here . . . now! He's inside talking to Tóta. And he's got two constables with him. I managed to slip out a side window as they came up the drive." She turned to look at Becky. "Where were you? John's been here for over an hour . . . we've got the horses all ready to go."

"Gran sent me off with Hamish's lunch, and it took me a while to find him." What she didn't tell Mary was how long she had sat, not wanting to take her final leave of Hamish, and especially Kip.

Suddenly the kitchen door banged open and the girls heard John's voice – a little louder than it needed to be – "Absolutely Mr. Seymour sir, you go ahead and look around. But I tell you Mary and the girl have been gone these two weeks."

It was too late to run and hide in the fields – it was too open and they would be seen. "Quick," hissed Mary, "in here."

They ducked through the door that led into the stalls. These were empty. All four of the cows were out to pasture and the draft horse working on a neighbouring farm. This part of the barn was separated from the front by the tack room and a small dairy, so it was impossible to see anything or anybody beyond. Above these stalls and running almost the full length of the barn, was the hay loft. One access to the loft was from the front of the barn where it overhung and looked down on the floor below and where the bales were winched up to be stored – the other was here. It was a tiny trap door at the top of a ladder that was pinned right to the wall in the end stall. It was hardly ever used now probably being a tight, steep climb – and there was a better ladder at the front. But it was up here that Mary now went.

The door at the top was stiff and she had to use all her strength against it. Finally it gave with a rusty creak and Becky followed after. Old spider webs, full of dust and decay clung to her clothes and hair as if she were some kind of human duster. She was almost at the top when her dress snagged on a nail. She didn't have time to stop so she pulled herself free, tearing her dress as she did. In tugging at it, she pushed down too hard on the rung. It gave way with a brittle, dry snap. Fortunately Becky had a good hold on the upper rungs with her hands and only dangled for a second before finding a toe hold. She hauled herself out, dusty and shaken but otherwise unharmed.