‘Girls making big plans for his visit, are they?’
Bobby laughed. ‘Aren’t they just? They’re planning to show him the whole of the Dales in the two days he’s here, from the sound of it.’ She glanced down at the writing in her notebook. ‘It wasn’t only that though. I felt like I wanted to write it.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Reg said something about… he said if I wrote it, it might help me come to terms with what I’d seen on the mountain. And he was right; it has helped. Partly it was talking to the two survivors and hearing their stories – they’ve both been strongly affected in their different ways, but sharing experiences with them and knowing they understood made me feel like I wasn’t alone. And then writing it down… I suppose it’s helped me think through everything I saw and felt that night. Not that it makes it go away – I don’t think I’ll ever stop seeing it in my mind’s eye. But I can cope with it better than if I tried to just push it down inside of me and forget.’ She smiled at his blank expression. ‘I know it sounds daft, but honestly, it does help. You ought to try it.’
‘Nay, I’m no writer, lass. You get that from your mother’s side.’
‘It isn’t about writing something that’s good. It wouldn’t be for anyone to read but you. What helps is the process of summoning it up in your brain and sending it out through your fingers. It doesn’t exactly bring peace, but it does bring relief of a kind.’
He turned away from her. ‘Last thing I want to do is go through all that business again, Bobby.’
‘But you already do go through it, Dad,’ she said gently. ‘It can’t do any harm, can it? And you never know, it might help.’
‘Sounds like quackery to me. Sort of thing them psychotic doctors get you doing when they think you’ve a few screws loose. Load of modern nonsense.’
Bobby sighed and put down her notebook. She hadn’t had much hope but it had been worth a try.
‘All right, it’s up to you,’ she said, standing. ‘I only thought it might help.’
He looked up at her. ‘Where are you off now?’
‘I thought I’d go over to Moorside to see if Mary needs me to help her with her preparations. Then I’ll probably wait there to greet the visitor. I doubt the girls will let me leave until I’ve been introduced to this legendary Captain George Parry. Will you come?’
‘Aye, I’ll come in a bit when you two biddies have stopped your flapping.’
‘All right, I’ll see you there.’
It was a hot, sunny afternoon in midsummer – exceptionally hot for the time of year, with the temperature into the seventies even up here in the high country. Bobby could hear voices from the garden when she emerged from the cottage, so she made her way around the farmhouse to investigate.
Mary was standing at the washing line, smiling indulgently while she watched the girls having a game. She beckoned Bobby over when she spotted her, indicating she should be quiet.
It was a comical sight that met her in the garden. The old tin bath that served as many different things in the games of the two Parry girls had been filled with water, and from somewhere, an old blackboard on a stand had been found. The two little girls were sitting cross-legged on the grass in just their slips and knickers, wet through and struggling to stifle their giggles, while Reg stood soberly in front of the blackboard.
‘Now then, Miss Florence Parry,’ he said sternly to the child, tapping on the ground with his stick. ‘This is your last chance to answer a question correctly, otherwise it will be another dunce’s ducking for you.’ He took a piece of chalk from his pocket to write a question on the blackboard. ‘What is the opposite of a dog?’
‘Ooh, I know, sir!’ Jessie’s hand waved in the air, but Reg ignored it.
‘Um, is it a cat?’ Florence said with a giggle.
‘Incorrect.’ Reg pointed to Ace, who was sitting on the grass looking hopefully at Mary – it was around the hour she would usually give him his dinner. ‘Clearly, opposite of a dog is a Mary. Prefect Jessica, escort Miss Parry to the bath for her dunce’s ducking.’
Solemnly, Jessie took her sister’s arm and guided her to the bath. Florence squeaked as she jumped in, then started splashing water at her sister.
‘May I be ducked too, please, Reg? I mean, sir?’ Jessie asked.
‘Ducking is a punishment, not a privilege, young lady,’ he said. ‘You will be ducked if you fail to answer this question. What is irrelevant?’
‘Um, it’s a word that sort of means where something isn’t important?’
‘Wrong. It’s a large grey animal with a swinging trunk that you might see at the circus. In you get with your fellow dunce.’
‘How did this happen?’ Bobby whispered to Mary.
‘I’m not entirely sure. They were all hot and bothered when you brought them home after Sunday school, and they kept badgering to be taken out for a paddle in the beck. I said I was fair thrang with getting ready for their dad’s visit and I had no time to take them laiking, but that I’d fill the bath with cold water for them so they could have a mess about in that.’
‘Where did the blackboard come from?’
