‘Why don’t you stay with us? The cabin is supposed to sleep six and there are only the three of us at present. Don’t make up your mind until you’ve seen what it’s like, but I’m sure we’d be glad to have you if you cared to muck in.’
Lights were on in the cabin when they reached it. Tamsin, her ankle strapped up, was lying on a settee in the living quarters and Erica was in the kitchen preparing a meal. Isobel showed Hermione round the neat, well-ordered little holiday dwelling. It consisted of a lounge containing a settee, armchairs and a large dining table with benches, and there was a radiator for warmth. Opening off the lounge were the two bedrooms, a kitchenette and a shower- room. One bedroom had a double and a single bed in it and a settee which could be turned into another bed. The smaller room contained two bunks, one of which had to be reached by means of a vertical ladder. There were two entrances to the cabin. The one by which Hermione had been brought in opened into a vestibule where coats, outdoors shoes, Wellington boots and waterproofs could be left and in it there was another radiator to assist in the drying of wet clothes.
There were drawers, cupboards, wardrobes and shelves in every part of the cabin, but all were arranged as neatly and in as space-saving a manner as they would have been in an up-to-date and well-equipped caravan.
In contrast to the somewhat primitive appearance of the outside of the cabin, the inside walls were of shining, smooth, polished panelling. Outside the back entrance, which was by way of sliding french doors, there was a verandah with a table and benches for
‘It’s a bit of a nuisance that all the mod con is in one room,’ said Isobel, ‘but I suppose to separate the mod from the con would be too much to ask. Otherwise we approve of the set-up. Yours is the top bunk, unless you’ve got no head for heights. Erica has bagged the big bed and Tamsin is to have the single, so, if you have an objection to the top bunk, the settee is available.’
‘Supper up! Come and get it,’ said Erica.
No objection was raised by anybody when Erica suggested bed at ten. Hermione, in the top bunk, woke early the next morning. The windows were high up in the wall and from where she was she could see the forest tree- tops. The windows did not open, but the bunkroom was supplied with the necessary ventilation through airholes also high up on the wall. She learned by her watch that it was almost seven o’clock. The sky would have paled sufficiently, she decided, for a before-breakfast walk. She felt for the top of her ladder and descended cautiously, without disturbing Isobel. She picked up an armful of clothes, sneaked out into the lounge, promised herself a shower when she got back, dressed and went out on to the verandah. Everything was quiet. Out on the moor on the previous evening there had been a wind, although it had not dispersed the rising mist, but here in the forest the silence was like that of an empty cathedral.
The stars were still faintly visible. She could see them caught up among the dark branches of the trees. The air was cold and sweet and she thought she could smell the pines. She stood for a few moments breathing in their aroma, then she descended the steps, crossed a rough patch of grass and found a path which was nothing more than a forest track. It glimmered pale, secretive and seductive in the almost no-light and looked, to her romantic imagination, like the legendary road to elf-land.
‘And see ye not yon bonny road that winds about the ferny brae?’ she said to herself as she followed it into the woods. Soon a dawn wind began to rustle the leaves which were still on the trees, and the sky lightened. The path widened and grew whiter. She followed its curves and gentle gradients, walking sometimes on its hard core, sometimes scuffling her feet with childlike pleasure through heaps of fallen leaves. The bushes took on a more familiar look and when she emerged into a clearing she could see the morning mist rising among the tree-trunks. A sharp autumn nip was now in the air and among the unkempt grasses and on the creeping trails of blackberry suckers which intruded on to the road were fine-spun, dew-wet, delicate cobwebs.
Hermione walked on, experiencing a kind of soul-filling delight. The light broadened, the mists began to disperse and she realised that it was time to turn back. When she re-entered the cabin Erica was already getting the breakfast.
‘The others are still hogging it,’ she said, ‘so I’ll just do enough for you and me and then they can get their own. I began to think you’d cut your stick’
‘And vanished, like the tart in the sea-shanty? Oh, no. I simply went for a walk.’
‘What time do you want to leave?’
‘I don’t really want to leave at all. I’ve been in the woods, and it was marvellous.’
‘How long were you going to stay with your aunt?’
‘A fortnight, I suppose.’
‘Well, you seem to be our sort. Why don’t you stay with us?’
‘Do you really think I could stay? Isobel did mention it last night.’
‘Why not? The bed is there and you can pay for your food, I suppose. You’ll have to take your share in doing the chores. We’re not going to spoil you.’ She gave Hermione a friendly smile and added, ‘So there it is. Take it or leave it.’
Chapter 2: WOOD SAGE
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‘I’ll take it. I’d love to stay, so long as it’s all right with the others.’
‘You said Isobel mentioned it, and I’m sure Tamsin will agree, not that we take any notice of her as a general rule. If you want a shower, better have it now while the coast is clear before the others get up. I’ll give you your breakfast as soon as you’re through. I expect I’d better make some sort of rota. Four people to one shower-room need organising.’
‘Are you a born organiser?’
‘I’ve had organising thrust upon me from an early age. My mother died when I was eight and my father has not married again. Wonder whether there’s a chance of getting the Sunday papers? We shall all want to sit about a bit after breakfast.’
At ten there was a caller. A tall young man was at the door when Erica answered it. He gave her a brisk greeting and added, ‘I saw the boy cycling towards the shop with the papers. I’m going down for ours, so I wondered whether you’d like me to bring one for you. My name’s John Trent. My parents and I have the cabin opposite yours.’
Isobel and Tamsin had breakfasted and it was Isobel who answered: ‘Oh, thanks very much.
‘They had them last week.’
‘You’ve been here a week, then?’
‘Yes. Let me warn you to expect one of the foresters this morning.’
‘Oh, Lord! What have we done?’
‘Oh, nothing. It’s simply that on the first Sunday morning a forester collects up the new arrivals and takes them on a conducted tour so that they know their way around. It’s quite easy to get lost in the forest, although I should think the literature they supply and their map of the forest walks would be sufficient guide to anyone of average intelligence.’
‘Ah, but not many people
‘Even with average intelligence, you’d need a compass as well as a map,’ said Tamsin from the settee. John Trent looked at the strapped-up ankle.
‘So
‘Not today, but it’s only a wrench. I shall go out for a drive this afternoon, I expect.’
The forester, with another group of holiday-makers, turned up soon after John returned with the papers. Erica volunteered to keep Tamsin company and to cook the Sunday lunch while Isobel and Hermione went off with the party for a nominal half-hour’s tour.
The suggested half-hour’s walk turned into a protracted hike which lasted until lunchtime, for the forester was an enthusiastic naturalist and spared neither their ears nor their legs as he took them round. The party was given the names of trees and shrubs, and was taken out of the forest itself to be shown two species of amphibians, the common and the great crested newt, which had chosen to breed in an abandoned sheep-trough. Back in the
