The Faeries of Dulwich Woods

Chapter 15. The Nature Of My Game

The sun was bright on a sweltering August afternoon. Avery was at the kitchen table surrounded by rolls of glittery paper, Scotch tape and a pile of brand-new schoolbooks that she was painstakingly covering, one by one. Her mother was sitting nearby on the shabby sofa with a large laundry basket that was piled high with new school uniforms. She squinted with concentration as she sewed little name tapes on to a pair of Rorie's socks.

'Avery, these socks seem to be multiplying, it feels as if I'm never going to finish them all,' she said, rubbing her tired eyes between thumb and forefinger, 'I need a break; I'm going for a walk in the woods with Tanguy for half an hour, do you want to come along?' Avery pushed back her chair with a loud scrape and nodded.

'I need a break as well,' she said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, 'my books are going to look fab, but I'm such a butterfingers that it's taking me ages. Let's go!' Mum stroked Avery's curly head and chuckled.

'Now you've got purple glitter all over your face! Come on then, it'll be nice and cool under the trees.'

Avery dashed away to get her shoes and soon they were walking along the sweeping curve of Crescent Road arm in arm, with an excited Tanguy gambolling alongside.

'Avery, I've got something I need to say to you. It's important, I've been thinking about this a lot,' said Mum squeezing Avery's arm affectionately, 'You've had so much to deal with this year, most of it painful and difficult. You had to find your way around a brand-new school; you had to make new friends, meet new teachers and learn subjects that you had never done before. All in the middle of Dad's illness. And then we lost him - and I let you down when you needed me the most. I know that I should have done better, and it haunts me. I can't tell you how sorry I am, all I can do is promise it will never happen again; I'll always be there for you and Rorie. You were so strong, Avery, you were amazing. You put your head down and you kept going. I'm unbelievably proud of you and I love you both with all my heart.' Her words filled Avery with a surge of complex emotions. She gave a crooked smile and blinked rapidly as her eyes began to prickle with tears.

'Thanks, Mum. I love you too,' she said. 'Lots and lots.'

'And speaking of school, are you going to try out for the hockey team next term? Or swimming? What about the choir?' teased Mum as they walked along, 'Or,' she said with a dramatic pause, 'what about trying for first viola in the orchestra!' Avery laughed and rolled her eyes with mock exasperation.

'No pressure, 'Tiger Mum', OK?'.

'No pressure at all, my darling girl, you've had more than enough. Do whatever makes you happy,' Mum replied with a fond hug.

Avery and Mum turned away from the main street and ambled through the private estate, down towards the forest. Mum lifted the latch of the quaint wooden gate framed beneath its rustic metal arch, and in they went. They picked their way carefully down the slippery, leaf-littered slope as Tanguy frisked about ahead of them. They had only been in the wood for ten minutes when they heard a woman calling; her quavering voice full of distress. Avery exchanged a worried glance with her mother and without further ado, they hurried down the trail. Dashing around the first bend, they nearly fell over Tanguy who was standing stock-still in the middle of the path. With his hackles raised and tail lowered he was staring intently at a little, old lady; with her twin set and pearls, sensible tweed skirt and stout shoes, Avery assumed that she lived in one of the huge, expensive houses on the brow of the hill. A tartan dog leash dangled from her wrist but there was no other dog to be seen, and she looked terribly upset.

'Excuse me, is everything OK? Are you all right?' asked Mum with concern as she approached the old woman.

'Oh dear, I'm beside myself - I can't find my wee dog,' she said in a soft, Scottish brogue, 'I took him off his lead and he ran off and won't come back!' said the old lady, wringing her hands in despair. 'Oh, he's such a naughty boy! What am I to do?' Mum patted her arm reassuringly.