off.â
âWonât be a sec, and then weâre going to go and ask if you can go out in the garden with me. Iâll show you the secret path to Far Look-out. Now, hereâs the key. Do you want to wind it or shall I?â
âYou.â
The large spring wound with heavy clicks of the ratchet. When Vincent showed the child the lever for starting and stopping the motor she still refused to take any part in setting the gadget off, so he did it himself. The motor ran with an even whirr, but the crank clicked and clacked as the cradle jerked rapidly through a small arc.
âNot so bad for a first try,â said Vincent, talking as much to himself as to the child. âIâll have to gear it down next time, but â¦â
âHello, darling,â said a womanâs voice from the door. âI see youâve found a friend.â
The child bounced to her feet and sprang across the room. Rising more slowly Vincent saw her thud into her mother, flinging her arms round her legs and burying her head in her stomach. As she staggered with the impact Mrs Dubigny laughed and began to tousle the childâs hair in an affectionate but still absent-minded manner, almost as if she had been fondling somebody elseâs dog.
âWhat have you two been up to?â she said.
âBuilding a c-c-cradle for Mary,â said Vincent.
âOh, thatâs too good of you! Do look, darlingâisnât that clever?â
The child paid no attention at all but continued to cling to her mother like some parasite anchored to its host for both their natural lives.
âI wish weâd had something like that for you when you were little,â said Mrs Dubigny. âDo let go, darling. Iâve got to take Mr Masham to talk to the Countess.â
âHe promised to take me in the garden,â said Sally.
âI said weâd g-g-go and ask if we c-could,â said Vincent.
âNot now, darling, Iâm afraid,â said Mrs Dubigny, reaching behind her back and taking her daughterâs wrist to pull that arm free.
âHe promised,â said Sally. âWhy donât any of you keep your promises? Ever?â
âNow donât be silly,â said Mrs Dubigny. âMr Mashamâs made you a lovely cradle for Mary, and â¦â
Sally began to cry.
âIâm so sorry about this,â said Mrs Dubigny, as if apologising for some phenomenon over which she had no control, such as the weather spoiling a tennis party. âShe can be very temperamental.â
Vincent knelt and undid the buckle of his watch strap.
âCan you tell the time, Sally?â he asked.
âCourse I can,â sobbed the child.
âLook, hereâs my watch. It says five past four, doesnât it? Iâll put it here on the table and you can look after it for me. When it says twenty-five past fourâlook, when the big hand gets down hereâIâll come and take you out. Thatâll give us half an hour before teatime. Donât forget, Iâm going to show you the secret path. All right?â
âYou wonât,â whined Sally. âNone of you ever doânone of you!â
âIf Iâm not here at half-past four,â said Vincent, âyou c-can k-k-keep my watch for yourself.â
âOh, no, I canât allow that!â said Mrs Dubigny.
âI will be here, so it wonât happen,â said Vincent, standing up again.
âBut Zena â¦â
âZena is not in my g-good books at the moment. Letâs be off. Youâll look after my watch, wonât you, Sally?â
The cradle was still restlessly clacking as he closed the door. Mrs Dubigny stopped at the top of the circular stair and put her hand on his sleeve.
âYou mustnât think I neglect poor Sally,â she said in a low voice. âItâs just that weâre still getting used to things here. I must change Nannyâs half-day. I didnât
Sherwood Smith, Dave Trowbridge