Even though they shared lessons still, Miss Crichton had decided that Mary and Colin were bad influences on each other, and they were made to sit at opposite sides of the schoolroom and forbidden from communicating. However, when Cook appeared to speak to Miss Crichton it gave Mary enough time to sneak a note to Colin outlining her plans.
Now it was dark, and Mary had made a second parcel of everything else she thought she might need and dropped it out of her window. It fell with a thud into the flowerbed and flattened some of the lavender. In the light of the half-moon she climbed down the ivy, then she ran along to Colin’s window and threw a handful of small pebbles to attract his attention. The window opened and Colin looked down at her.
‘There you are!’ he hissed crossly. ‘I read your note, and did everything you said in it. But you didn’t come. I thought you’d forgotten me. What shall I do with my bundle?
‘Drop it, and I’ll catch it.’ His enormous bundle only just fitted through the window and when he dropped it she staggered backwards under the weight.
‘What’s in there?’ she asked.
‘Treasure Island and a couple of other books,’ Colin admitted, and she could feel the corners through the blanket he had tied them in. Miss Crichton had relented and given him back his beloved Treasure Island when he managed to learn his first list of Latin verbs.
‘In my note I said only necessities!’
‘Books are necessary if we’re running away. I can’t leave them. And we might need them to occupy our minds on the journey to … where are we going?’
‘I’ll tell you when you’re safely down here and not before.’
‘How exactly do you expect me to get down?’ he said, imperiously. ‘Jump?’
‘Ssh! Not so loud. They’ll hear you. No, you don’t have to jump, you can use the ivy like a ladder. It’s easy, I’ve done it two or three times already.’
‘I’m not sure. It might not be safe. How do I know I won’t fall? Then I might hurt my back and end up a cripple after all.’
‘Would you rather stay up there with Miss Crichton and Miss Prosser for company?’ Mary said crossly, standing with her feet planted firmly apart and her hands on her hips. She hadn’t expected to have to persuade him to come with her. ‘Locked in your room, no proper food, tied to a chair to improve your posture?’
‘No.’
‘Then climb. You can do it.’
‘I suppose. You’re just a girl, if you can manage it then I can.’
He climbed down, clinging to each branch and huffing and puffing so loudly that Mary was afraid Miss Crichton would hear him, even from her room at the other side of the Manor. Eventually he stood beside her in the chilly darkness, blowing on his hands to warm them.
‘Didn’t you bring gloves?’ Mary said.
‘No. And I’m not going back for them, so don’t suggest it.’ He looked up at the ivy-covered wall as if it was Mount Everest. ‘Well? What’s your plan?’
Mary hoisted her small bundle onto her shoulder and began to walk away from the grey bulk of the Manor, keeping in the shadow of the box hedge rather than taking the more direct route across the lawn where they would have been easily visible in the silvery moonlight. Colin followed her as she picked up the big bundle she’d hidden under the wheelbarrow.
‘Are we going to take the train to London to find Father?’ he asked. Mary shook her head.
‘No. But I left a note so that’s where Miss Crichton will think we’ve gone. It’s too risky to go to London, and besides which we don’t have any money. I don’t think we can walk there all the way from Yorkshire.’
‘I suppose,’ said Colin, dragging his own bundle along the ground. ‘So where are we going?’
‘The Secret Garden!’ Mary said, with a thrill of pride.
‘The Secret Garden?’ Colin stopped stock still. ‘That’s a stupid idea! Only a girl would come up with that.’
‘Then you think of a better one.’ Mary marched ahead, determined to stick to her plan.
‘They’ll find us straight away!’ Colin whined, having to run to catch up with her when he realised she wasn’t going to stop.
‘Not if they think we’ve gone to London. They won’t even try to look for us,’ Mary said. ‘It’s only for three or four days. I gave Dickon a letter to post to your father which will bring him straight home, so all we have to do is hide there until he returns.’ Mary was quite pleased with herself for coming up with such an ingenious plan, but Colin wasn’t as impressed as she’d expected.
‘Well, where are we going to sleep, Miss Clever-Clogs? Up an apple tree?’
‘In the summer house. There’s a fireplace on the back wall, and two benches to sleep on. We’ll be warm as toast in there, and we can cook on the fire. There’s fresh water from the garden pump, and the robin will keep a look out for us. It’s perfect.’
‘It’s stupid. But I suppose it will have to do.’
Liz Taylorson 