Read Online Three to See the King by Magnus Mills - Free Book Online
Authors: Magnus Mills
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view it was one thing to turn out and help someone get over a little local difficulty, but quite another to spend several days moving a tin house overland.
‘Actually, I won’t be coming,’ I said. ‘I’ll stay here and be quartermaster instead.’
‘Quartermaster?’ asked Steve.
‘Yes, you know, I’ll look after the pieces while you’re away. Stop them being stolen, that kind of thing.’
There’s no one here except us,’ he replied. ‘Who’s going to steal them?’
‘Well, they might get blown around.’
‘Alright,’ he said. ‘If you’re not interested it doesn’t matter.’
Without further word he walked away to join the others, leaving me feeling a little awkward. Subsequent conversation was held only between the three of them as they prepared for their forthcoming journey. A little later they set off, each bearing part of a house of tin.
No one said goodbye. Not even Simon.
9
I stayed there for a long time after they’d gone, reluctant to leave the remaining pile unguarded. I knew as well as they did that this was quite unnecessary, for as Steve had pointed out, there was no one around except us. Even so, I felt obliged to make certain everything was secure. A length of rope lay coiled amongst Simon’s possessions, and I used it to tie down all the various pieces. This, I assured myself, would protect them from the wind. Then, when I was satisfied there was no more I could do, I headed for home. Halfway back I met Mary Petrie. She was carrying a basket in her hand.
‘That was quick work,’ she said. ‘Have you put Simon together already?’
‘Not quite,’ I replied. ‘He’s decided to move.’
The basket contained a flask of coffee, along with some cakes which she’d brought to keep us going. I told her what had happened, and how the others had left without saying goodbye.
‘Well,’ she remarked. ‘At least you’ve still got me, haven’t you?’
This was one way of looking at it, of course, but as we returned home I couldn’t help thinking that I might never see my friends again. After all, they had little cause to come calling any more. These thoughts played on my mind quite a lot that night. By the following morning I’d resolved to go over to Simon Painter’s place every day with a basket of provisions for the three of them. Then they’d know that although they were gone, they were by no means forgotten. For some reason, however, I couldn’t face seeing them in person. This wasn’t because I felt ashamed for not helping with the move. It was just that I didn’t think I’d know what to say to any of them. Accordingly, I decided not to pay my visit until the late afternoon, by which time I reckoned they should have arrived and departed again.
Sure enough, when I got to Simon’s about an hour before dusk the first thing I noticed was that three more pieces of tin had been taken away. I was pleased to see they’d used the rope to tie down the rest of the pile, just as I had, but apart from that there was no sign of anyone having been there. I checked everything was secure, then left the basket of victuals in a prominent position.
When I went back the next day the pile had again been reduced by three items. It was disappointing to discover, though, that the flask of coffee had not been touched. Only the cakes were gone.
‘Perhaps the coffee went cold overnight,’ suggested Mary Petrie when she heard about it.
Of course, I thought, how stupid of me! After that I switched to making my delivery early in the morning, then returning again in the afternoon to retrieve the basket. This system was quite time-consuming, involving two journeys there and back, but I felt somehow rewarded the first time I found the coffee had been drunk and all the cakes eaten.
As the days went by I found that these trips became increasingly important to me. I would study closely the diminishing stack of tin to see which pieces had been removed, and always I looked to see if anything
‘Actually, I won’t be coming,’ I said. ‘I’ll stay here and be quartermaster instead.’
‘Quartermaster?’ asked Steve.
‘Yes, you know, I’ll look after the pieces while you’re away. Stop them being stolen, that kind of thing.’
There’s no one here except us,’ he replied. ‘Who’s going to steal them?’
‘Well, they might get blown around.’
‘Alright,’ he said. ‘If you’re not interested it doesn’t matter.’
Without further word he walked away to join the others, leaving me feeling a little awkward. Subsequent conversation was held only between the three of them as they prepared for their forthcoming journey. A little later they set off, each bearing part of a house of tin.
No one said goodbye. Not even Simon.
9
I stayed there for a long time after they’d gone, reluctant to leave the remaining pile unguarded. I knew as well as they did that this was quite unnecessary, for as Steve had pointed out, there was no one around except us. Even so, I felt obliged to make certain everything was secure. A length of rope lay coiled amongst Simon’s possessions, and I used it to tie down all the various pieces. This, I assured myself, would protect them from the wind. Then, when I was satisfied there was no more I could do, I headed for home. Halfway back I met Mary Petrie. She was carrying a basket in her hand.
‘That was quick work,’ she said. ‘Have you put Simon together already?’
‘Not quite,’ I replied. ‘He’s decided to move.’
The basket contained a flask of coffee, along with some cakes which she’d brought to keep us going. I told her what had happened, and how the others had left without saying goodbye.
‘Well,’ she remarked. ‘At least you’ve still got me, haven’t you?’
This was one way of looking at it, of course, but as we returned home I couldn’t help thinking that I might never see my friends again. After all, they had little cause to come calling any more. These thoughts played on my mind quite a lot that night. By the following morning I’d resolved to go over to Simon Painter’s place every day with a basket of provisions for the three of them. Then they’d know that although they were gone, they were by no means forgotten. For some reason, however, I couldn’t face seeing them in person. This wasn’t because I felt ashamed for not helping with the move. It was just that I didn’t think I’d know what to say to any of them. Accordingly, I decided not to pay my visit until the late afternoon, by which time I reckoned they should have arrived and departed again.
Sure enough, when I got to Simon’s about an hour before dusk the first thing I noticed was that three more pieces of tin had been taken away. I was pleased to see they’d used the rope to tie down the rest of the pile, just as I had, but apart from that there was no sign of anyone having been there. I checked everything was secure, then left the basket of victuals in a prominent position.
When I went back the next day the pile had again been reduced by three items. It was disappointing to discover, though, that the flask of coffee had not been touched. Only the cakes were gone.
‘Perhaps the coffee went cold overnight,’ suggested Mary Petrie when she heard about it.
Of course, I thought, how stupid of me! After that I switched to making my delivery early in the morning, then returning again in the afternoon to retrieve the basket. This system was quite time-consuming, involving two journeys there and back, but I felt somehow rewarded the first time I found the coffee had been drunk and all the cakes eaten.
As the days went by I found that these trips became increasingly important to me. I would study closely the diminishing stack of tin to see which pieces had been removed, and always I looked to see if anything
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