Read Online The Black Mountains by Janet Tanner - Free Book Online Page B

stripped off his clothes and dropped them into an untidy heap under a bush. Then, when he was quite naked, he waded into the water.
    It was cold, so cold he let out a yell, but as the first sharp shock gave way to a pleasurable tingling Ted glowed with exuberance.
    So much for wasting a morning like this in chapel! he thought. And why did he need to go anyway? Here, with the sky high and blue above the tracery of green, he was closer to God than he could ever be there.
    After a while, he began to feel the coldness of the water once more. He turned for the bank, and saw something move among the trees. Automatically he stopped, treading water. All was peace, and he was just beginning to think he had imagined it when a twig cracked sharply, and turning towards the sound he saw a flash of white amid the green.
    â€œWho’s there?” he called.
    For a moment there was silence, then the branches parted to reveal a girl—a skinny child of ten or eleven. Her black hair was knotty and unbrushed, and her stockings and smock were stuck with burrs, but in her narrow face her dark eyes sparkled behind thick lashes, and her lips were parted to reveal teeth that were white and perfect.
    â€œRosa Clements!” Ted said, annoyed. “What are you doing here?”
    She came to the edge of the bank, guilty but defiant.
    â€œYou followed me!” he accused. “You’re always following me. Why can’t you leave me alone?”
    Her guilt was spiked by a look of sudden pain, so transparent he felt almost sorry for her.
    She was a strange child, very much one on her own, and quite different from the rest of the Clements children, with their pale, freckled complexions and gingery curls. He’d even heard talk that her father was not Walter Clements at all, but one of the travelling fair folk who wintered each year in the market yard, and certainly she was as dark and lithe as any gypsy—and as wild. But he’d never learned the truth of it. Charlotte refused to have the subject talked about, saying there was ‘none of us so lilly white we can afford to gossip about others.’
    Rosa never played with the other children, either. While they drew hopscotch squares on the path with chalky stones, and ran shrieking round the rank, she went off by herself, sitting in the hen-pen for hours, or going off across the fields. But lately Ted had noticed that, wherever he was, Rosa was likely to turn up too, and it was beginning to annoy him.
    â€œHaven’t you got anything better to do?” he said now, less unkindly, as he trod water amongst the rushes.
    She shrugged without replying, and he was just about to swim to the bank and get out when he remembered he wasn’t wearing a bathing costume.
    A fierce panic ran through him as he automatically glanced towards the untidy pile of discarded clothes. She followed his gaze and, seeing his reason for hesitation, a slow smile lit up her sallow features.
    â€œTed Hall, I don’t believe you’ve got anything on!” she exclaimed.
    Hot colour flooded his cheeks and, as if blushing had taken every bit of warm blood from the rest of his body, he was suddenly achingly cold.
    â€œGo on home, Rosa!” he yelled at her, but this time she had the upper hand, and she knew it.
    Laughing, she danced her way through the brambles to where the clothes lay, and he could only watch, agonized, as she picked them up, a garment at a time, waving them tauntingly at him.
    â€œIf you want your drawers, come and get them! Come and get them—I dare you!”
    â€œRosa!” he pleaded. “ Give them back! Just wait till I get out of here!”
    But she only laughed again.
    Then, without warning, the quiet erupted. The undergrowth rustled, and out bounded a small black-and-white dog, barking furiously and intent on joining in the fun. It dived at Rosa, jumping up at the trousers she was waving. Screaming, she dropped them on to the bank. For one ghastly