The Seeds of Time

‘Oh,’ said Marjorie in a voice that penetrated naturally, and a tone that was meant to, ‘who was that?’

I told her I didn’t know.

‘She certainly seemed to know you,’ she said, disbelievingly. Her tone irritated me. In any case it was no business of hers. I didn’t reply.

She was not willing to let it drop. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen her about before,’ she said presently.

‘She may be a holiday-maker for all I know,’ I said. ‘There are plenty of them about.’

‘That doesn’t sound very convincing, considering the way she looked at you.’

‘I don’t care for being thought, or called, a liar,’ I said.

‘Oh, I thought I asked a perfectly ordinary question. Of course, if I’ve said anything to embarrass you ‘

‘Nor do I care for sustained innuendo. Perhaps you’d prefer to walk the rest of the way. It’s not far.”

‘I see, I am sorry to have intruded. It’s a pity it’s too narrow for you to turn the car here,’ she said as she got out.

‘Goodbye, Mr Lattery.’

With the help of a gateway it was not too narrow, but I did not see the girl when I went back. Marjorie had roused my interest in her, so that I rather hoped I would. Besides, though I still had no idea who she might be, I was feeling grateful to her. You will have experienced, perhaps, that feeling of being relieved of a weight that you had not properly realized was there?

Our third meeting was on a different plane altogether. My cottage stood, as its name suggests, in a coombe which, in Devonshire, is a small valley that is, or once was, wooded.

It was somewhat isolated from the other four or five cottages there, being set in the lower part, at the end of the track. The heathered hills swept steeply up on either side. A few narrow grazing fields bordered both banks of the stream. What was left of the original woods fringed between them and the heather, and survived in small clumps and spinneys here and there.

It was in the closest of these spinneys, on an afternoon when I was surveying my plot and deciding that it was about time the beans came out, that I heard a sound of small branches breaking underfoot. I needed no more than a glance to find the cause of it; her fair hair gave her away. For a moment we looked at one another as we had before.

‘Er-hullo,’ I said.

She did not reply at once. She went on staring. Then: ‘Is there anyone in sight?’ she asked.

I looked up as much of the track as I could see from where I stood, and then up at the opposite hillside.

‘I can’t see anyone,’ I told her.

She pushed the bushes aside, and stepped out cautiously, looking this way and that. She was dressed just as she had been when I first saw her-except that her hair had been a trifle raked about by branches. On the rough ground the shoes looked even more inappropriate. Seeming a little reassured she took a few steps forward.

‘I ‘ she began.

Then, higher up the coombe, a man’s voice called, and another answered it. The girl froze for a moment, looking scared.

They’re coming. Hide me somewhere, quickly, please,’ she said.

‘Er ‘ I began, inadequately.

‘Oh, quick, quick. They’re coming,’ she said urgently. She certainly looked alarmed.

‘Better come inside,’ I told her, and led the way into the cottage.

She followed swiftly, and when I had shut the door she slid the bolt.

‘Don’t let them catch me. Don’t let them,’ she begged.

‘Look here, what’s all this about. Who are “they?”’ I asked.

She did not answer that; her eyes, roving round the room, found the telephone.

‘Call the police,’ she said. ‘Call the police, quickly.’ I hesitated. ‘Don’t you have any police?’ she added.

‘Of course we have police, but …’

‘Then call them, please.’

‘But look here ‘ I began.

She clenched her hands.

‘You must call them, please. Quickly.’

She looked very anxious.

‘All right, I’ll call them. You can do the explaining,’ I said, and picked up the instrument.

I was used to the rustic leisure of communications in those parts, and waited patiently. The girl did not; she stood twining her fingers together. At last the connection was made:

‘Hullo,’ I said, ‘is that the Plyton Police?’

‘Plyton Police ‘ an answering voice had begun when there was an interruption of steps on the gravel path, followed by a heavy knocking at the door. I handed the instrument to the girl and went to the door.