Mr Fortune Here by Bailey H. C

Author:Bailey, H. C. [Bailey, H. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Anthology
Published: 1940-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

THE BROWN PAPER

AT EIGHT O’CLOCK Ann Stubbs, who was twelve had walked a brisk hour on her round with the morning papers and not had any breakfast.

But blackbirds laughed at her from the trees on the heath. The green hillside was glistening and fragrant in sunshine after rain. She turned away from home and breakfast to the gold of the kingcups about the ponds. Not knowing the words her heart beat to the tune - “The year’s at the spring, God’s in his heaven All’s right with the world.” And if she were awfully lucky she would see the kingfisher again.

Nobody who knew her - they were few - ever thought of her having any luck in life. Shabby and down at heel, a long - legged wraith of a child, she stood very still among the budding hawthorns on the verge of the biggest, deepest pond. Chaffinches fluttered bright about her in courtship. A wren and a robin sang against each other. Her pale face, all brow and eyes, drank in the beauty of sight and sound, hut the eagerness grew wistful. The kingfisher did not come. He wouldn’t come. There was a beastly man. That pond is a swimming pool for men, but few men use it on cool spring days. Ann had a right to be angry. The beast ran along and turned a somersault into the water, which was exciting, and he surged through it as she never dreamed anybody could. Then he was on that concrete scaffolding they dived from, only most of them never went above the first bit. He shot up like an angel to the very top. He stood there, it was awfully high and he looked wonderful, better than that lover in the film, ever so strong and handsome, all of him shining and rippling in the sunlight and ooh, what a dive! Beautiful body, curved to swoop like the swallows did! It cut into the glittering water and he went down as if he would never come up.

At last she saw him again a long way off, big brown arms breaking out through the waves he made and cut through with his head. He clambered out and ran away.

She wanted him dreadfully to dive again and waited. But he didn’t. He came round the pond in a sweater and trousers. Even so he was still wonderful and she had to smile at him.

“Same to you, kid,” he grinned.

“You dive awfully well,” said Ann.

“Sweetheart. Do you come here often?”

“I didn’t come to see you.”

“Slap my face. That’s right.” He offered it to her a face not handsome but jovially impudent.

“I don’t want to. I hated your being here. I came to see the kingfisher.”

“Golly, that’s a new one.”

“There is a kingfisher,” Ann insisted. “I believe there’s a pair, and he loves this pond when no men are about.”

“Don’t you like men?”

“You’re only a boy.”

“And you’re my baby sister,” he laughed at her.

She flushed. “I’m not.” They went on telling each other more about what they were.

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