13. Cursed be the Bed
Chapter 13
Cursed be the Bed
‘ W hy didn’t the Swallows and Amazons just use phones?’ asked Oliver as Amy put a bookmark into Winter Holiday. ‘I don’t get why they needed all those signals.’
‘I guess they didn’t have a phone in those days. It would’ve been about a hundred years ago, after all. Probably rich people had phones – I think in one chapter the Blacketts rang the doctor for Nancy. But then the Blacketts would’ve been quite rich. The farmhouses like the Dixons’ and Holly Howe where the Swallows stayed probably wouldn’t have been able to afford one.’
There was a moment’s silence as Oliver contemplated the realities of not having a phone of any kind. ‘Not even a landline?’
Amy shook her head.
‘I wish we didn’t have a phone. Then when Jess has the puppies they could send us a signal from the farmhouse. We should make signs in case the phones break when they come,’ said Harry.
‘It’s a lovely idea, but I don’t think we brought anything to make a sign with,’ Amy said. ‘We’ll have to hope the phone doesn’t break.’
Even before the last word had left her mouth, the sound of the landline phone ringing filled the cottage.
‘The puppies are coming!’ Harry sprang out of bed and was half-way down the stairs before Matt had picked up. Oliver and Amy followed.
Matt stood next to the Christmas tree, with the phone pressed to his ear. It didn’t sound like it was Peter ringing about the puppies; the voice on the other end of the phone was higher in pitch. A woman’s voice. Amy couldn’t make out the words from the other end of the conversation, but from Matt’s responses she knew it must be Diane.
‘Follow the instructions I gave you. Yes, right through the farmyard … Two gates, one in, one out … Wait a minute, tomorrow? I thought you were coming on Christmas Eve?’
Matt met Amy’s gaze even as he spoke to Diane.
‘Oh … yes, I see, the weather forecast isn’t great for Christmas Eve. I think they’re expecting stormy weather … Yes, I understand that, but … But you wouldn’t … Oh. I see. That’s fine then. We’ll make sure everything’s ready. Thank you for letting us know … Yes. See you tomorrow, Diane.’
‘Tomorrow?’ Amy asked, tentatively.
‘She doesn’t want to drive over Stainmore in bad weather.’
‘She’s coming tomorrow?’
‘That’s right,’ Matt replied.
‘Did she say what time?’
‘No. I didn’t think to ask, sorry.’
‘Yeah, Granny Diane’s coming!’ Oliver cheered.
‘Come on, boys, back to bed. Time to settle down so you’re nice and fresh in the morning.’
‘Come on, Harry. We can practice signalling to Mars in bed. Have you got a torch?’ The boys chased each other back up the stairs.
‘Goodnight,’ Amy called after them, but they weren’t listening.
The two grown-ups sat by the fire with a cup of hot chocolate until the rustling and giggling from the floor above them, and the occasional bursts of knocked signals subsided into silence.
‘Perhaps we should have an early night ourselves,’ Amy suggested with a hopeful smile.
Matt finished his cup and put it down on the hearth. ‘Yes, please.’ He stood up and held out his hands towards her. She let him pull her to her feet, close in the firelight.
‘I’ll bring some mistletoe, shall I?’
‘We don’t need the mistletoe.’
The stairs creaked as he took her hand and led her up them. They stopped at the top of the stairs for a soft kiss.
‘I’ll put on that satin nightdress again,’ she said.
‘I can’t believe I didn’t wake up last night. You should have woken me.’
‘You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t do it. I just got the blanket and covered you up,’ she said. He opened the bedroom door and ushered her through it as if he was a squire and she was a great lady.
Then there was a creak and groan. The creak came from the door to the boys’ bedroom and the groan came from Oliver who emerged looking pale.
‘What’s up, Olly?’ Amy stood frozen in the doorway.
‘Daddy, I’m frightened. I’m scared the ghost is going to come and get me. Harry won’t wake up and I’m all on my own.’
‘Don’t be scared. There’s no such thing as ghosts,’ said Matt.
‘And even if there is, there are no ghosts in the cottage,’ Amy added.
‘It’s a cursed cottage,’ Oliver insisted.
‘No, the ghost was outside, a long way away up the hill, not in this cottage,’ said Amy.
‘Daddy, can I sleep in your bedroom with you tonight?’
There was silence as Matt looked at Amy over Oliver’s head. No signalling to Mars was needed for them to read the disappointment in each other’s eyes.
‘You share the big bed with your dad, I’ll go into the other bedroom with Harry,’ said Amy. ‘Just let me get my tartan pyjamas.’
Cursed be the bed indeed.