The Night Rainbow A Novel

CHAPTER 22




We have fed the chickens and brought the bread up to the house. We have had our breakfast and waited for Maman for a long time, but it got very boring and I want to go and see Claude, so I have tidied away our breakfast things and left the table set for Maman.

We are trotting down through the peach trees on our horses, jumping over logs and winding through the trees. The edges of the teardrop leaves are already turning orange. Margot looks back at me over her shoulder.

My horse is dappled grey and it is called Bolter. What’s yours called?

Saskia, I say. And she is black like Black Beauty.

As we get down towards the road I hear a strange noise. It sounds like someone calling my name and I stop to listen.

Come on, says Margot, giddy up!

Don’t you hear that? I say. Isn’t that Maman shouting?

I doubt it, says Margot. We did all the jobs. What else would she want you for?

Maybe she got another tick?

Could be. Margot gets off her horse and pats his neck. I do the same. Let’s leave our horses here, she says, so they don’t fight with the donkeys. We can go and see Claude and not take long. Then we will go back up and check if Maman has a tick.

Yes, I say, that’s a good idea, because I really want to see Claude and check again about him being our papa.

We cross the road and climb the gate into the low meadow. I can see Claude, right down at the bottom of the path.

Look! says Margot. He brought his elephant-tracking knife!

Claude is slicing at the brambles, cutting away the loops and trailing parts. As he swishes them, the bushes are getting flat edges, and thorny bits, blackberries and little brown punaises patter on to the path. Even the ripe blackberries are getting chopped.

Oh no! I say.

Let’s go and save the blackberries! says Margot.

Definitely! I say, and we run down the hill. Claude hasn’t heard us yet.

Peony!

I stop running and turn. It really is Maman. She is by the gate and she is waving her arms over her head.

Peony!

I must be in big trouble for something, although I can’t think what it is. Unless Maman really has got a tick too. But even if she has I don’t know how to help her. My tweezers are only pretend ones and I’m still only five years old.

Maman walks slowly down the path. I stand still and watch her coming.

Peony, come here! she shouts. But I’m scared. After only a few steps she stops and leans against an oak tree. She presses her head against the trunk and her shoulders go up and down.

Is she cross or sad? I ask Margot.

She looks sad, maybe, says Margot. Or else sick.

We’d better go and see.

Yes, Margot agrees.

We turn around and start back up the path towards her. We don’t run.

As we get closer I can see there really is something wrong with Maman; she has walked a few more steps but has stopped again. Tears are running down her face and she is roaring like a lion. It is worse than the day she attacked the tractor with the peaches.

Margot grabs at my arm. Don’t, she says.

Margot, is Maman after us?

I don’t know, says Margot. We should ask Claude; he will know what to do.

Margot takes my hand and we pelt back down the path to get Claude. He is still cutting the brambles.

Claude! I shout.

Swish, chop.

He seems cross with the brambles.

Claude! Margot shouts.

Chop, swish.

They scratched him a lot, it’s true.

Claude!

If Merlin had been here he would have been barking by now.

Swish, chop.

We are really close now, my breath is puffing. I reach out my arms so I can stop myself against his legs.

Chop, swish.

Claude! I shout.

At the same time, behind us, Maman shouts, Peony! Peony!

We are so loud that even Claude can hear us now, and he looks up from the brambles, turning to see where the noise is coming from. But his knife is still swinging.

Swish.

And we are still running.

And it is too late to stop.

I see the knife coming straight towards my face.