Four Children and It Read online

  Then Dad started calling for me and calling for Smash. I didn’t hear Smash answer so I didn’t either. Maybe I’d manage to stay hidden away all day long and they’d go off on their walk and have their picnic without me.

  No such luck. Dad tracked me down like a bloodhound. He flung the larder door open and discovered me in seconds.

  ‘Rosalind, what are you playing at?’ he demanded.

  ‘Hide-and-seek?’ I said.

  ‘For goodness’ sake. Can’t you act your age? You’re the oldest. You’re meant to set an example,’ Dad said.

  I wished I wasn’t the oldest. I wished I was the youngest, little and cute like Maudie, everybody’s favourite.

  It took Dad much longer to track down Smash. We looked all over the house but there was no sign of her. That was because she wasn’t in the house. Dad and Alice started searching the garden. She wasn’t technically in the garden either – she was above it, halfway up the big lime tree at the back.

  Alice made a fuss, saying it was dangerous, and then she made a further fuss when she saw Smash had got her white T-shirt grimy. So it was quite a while before we were all rounded up and ready, practically lunchtime.

  ‘We could just as well have the picnic here in the garden, without having to lump all this stuff about,’ said Alice, juggling rucksacks and carrier bags.

  ‘Nonsense! I know a perfect picnic place in Oxshott woods,’ said Dad. ‘I used to go on picnics there when I was a kid. We used to bike over from Kingston. It’s wonderful there. I want the kids to see how lovely it is.’

  Robbie and I exchanged glances. He’d never tried to take us there all the years he’d lived at home with Mum.

  We set off for these woods. Dad had the big rucksack on his back, Alice had a bulging bag-for-life in one hand and held Maudie by the other. I carried a canvas bag full of fruit and Robbie clutched a bag of paper plates and cups and a bottle cooler of wine for Dad and Alice. Smash carried a string bag of Coke and fizzy lemonade. She swung it wildly round and round, obviously intent on making them explode.

  We plodded along the pavement for a long time, past row after row of suburban semis just like Dad’s.

  ‘Funny-looking countryside,’ Smash remarked.

  ‘We’re nearly in the country. Stride on,’ said Dad. ‘Breathe in all that healthy fresh air.’

  ‘The country, the country, the country!’ Maudie chanted, hanging on to Alice and Dad as they swung her along between them.

  We walked on and on. The roads got busier and busier until there was such a roar of traffic we could hardly hear each other.

  ‘Let’s fill our lungs with all the healthy fresh petrol fumes,’ said Smash.

  The houses gradually grew bigger, and retreated down driveways. Alice gazed enviously at each large house, trying to decide which she liked the best. There were several for sale, which excited her. She even rang one estate agent on her mobile to find out the asking price.

  ‘It’s more than a million!’ she said, round-eyed, switching off her phone.

  ‘Of course it is,’ Dad said irritably. ‘Completely out of our price range.’

  ‘Well, obviously. But I reckon we could just about afford to trade up a bit, especially if I work longer hours when Maudie starts school – and if you get another promotion. There’d be enough money coming in, if only we didn’t have so many commitments.’

  She wasn’t looking at Robbie and me, but I knew she meant us. Dad paid Mum for our keep every month and I think Alice had to give Smash’s dad money too. It wasn’t our fault, but it somehow felt as if it was.

  I slowed down to walk beside Robbie, who was lagging behind. He clutched his paper sack awkwardly, red in the face with effort.

  ‘Here, give me that wine cooler. It must weigh a ton,’ I said.

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ said Robbie, breathing heavily.

  I grabbed his sack and felt for the wine cooler. My hands scrabbled over many manes and haunches and tails. I raised my eyebrows.

  ‘I thought my animals might like to roam free in these woods,’ said Robbie.

  ‘I don’t think we’re ever going to get to these woods. They probably don’t exist any more. All the trees round here got chopped down donkey’s years ago so they could build all these big houses,’ I said.

  But after an endless trudge we crossed a main road and suddenly there we were, walking in woods at last.

  ‘Right, let’s have this picnic. I’m starving,’ said Smash, sitting down cross-legged.

  ‘No, not here, where we can still hear the traffic! We’ll go further into the woods. When I was a boy we always had our picnics by the sandpit.’

  ‘There’s a sandpit in my book,’ I said. ‘That’s where the children found the Psammead.’

  But no one seemed remotely interested.

  Maudie had long since started to droop, and Dad was struggling to carry her as well as the big rucksack – but she perked up when he said the word sandpit.

  ‘A sandpit!’ she repeated enthusiastically, clapping her hands.

  ‘You didn’t tell us there was a sandpit,’ said Alice. ‘She loves playing in the sandpit at nursery, don’t you, Maudie love?’

  ‘This is a great big natural sandpit in the middle of the woods. I remember thinking it was just like the seaside,’ said Dad. ‘We should have brought your little bucket and spade, eh, Maudie?’

  We tramped further and further into the woods, struggling uphill now. There was no sign of this sandpit.

  ‘Who cares about the wretched sandpit,’ said Smash. ‘Let’s have the picnic here.’ She flung herself down on the grass and took off her fabulous trainers. They were obviously brand new, sparkling with emerald-green sequins. I had been eyeing them enviously until I saw the red marks on Smash’s feet.

  ‘I’ve got blisters, look! Really huge terrible blisters because you’ve made me walk miles and miles and miles,’ she wailed.

  ‘You should have worn socks. I told you back at home. It’s your own fault,’ said Alice. ‘Do stop making such a silly fuss. Come on, let’s walk just a little further.’

  ‘I hate walking,’ said Smash.

  ‘It’s good exercise – and you really need it. Your father lets you slump around the house and drives you everywhere in that fancy car. It’s not good for you,’ Alice fussed.

  ‘It’s not good for me being marched along through this dreary wood for hours when my feet are practically bleeding – look!’ said Smash. ‘I’m not going a step further.’ She crossed her arms defiantly.

  But then we heard Robbie shouting. He’d wandered on through the trees, but now he came running back.

  ‘I’ve found the sandpit!’ he called. ‘I can see it, all golden, through the trees. Come on!’

  So we all went to look, even Smash, swinging her sparkly shoes by the laces and walking barefoot. Robbie had sounded excited, but the sandpit was rather a disappointment. Even Dad seemed a bit cast down.

  ‘I’m sure there was more sand when I was a kid. And it was a real pit. You slid down into it. It was such fun.’ He looked reproachfully at the sandy hollow under the pine trees as if it had shrunk itself on purpose. He put Maudie and the rucksack down and gave the sand a little kick with his canvas deck shoe. ‘You can’t really play in it now,’ he said, mopping his forehead.

  ‘It’s still a lovely spot,’ said Alice, sitting down gracefully. The skirt of her pink dress spread out around her, so that she looked like a flower. She arched her back, one hand on her tiny waist, the other combing her long blonde hair. ‘It’s so hot,’ she said, though she looked completely cool and composed.

  I didn’t like her at all, because she had lured Dad away. I especially didn’t like her being so pretty. I thought of our mum with a pang. She had messy mousy hair scragged back in a little ponytail, and ever since Robbie was born she kept saying she was going on a diet, but she never actually got round to it.

  Dad sat down eagerly beside Alice, cheered up already.

  ‘Picnic time!’ he annou