Secrets on Saturday by Ann Purser Page B

shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, anyhow. Mum knows about us, and she can keep Dad at bay. But I don’t like to lie to him. He’s been a good dad … on the whole.” Then she laughed and Ben hugged her, and she yelled, “Careful!” As he stepped back in alarm, she reached insideher fleece jacket and presented him with a parcel, birthday-wrapped.
    “Happy birthday, Ben,” she said shyly.
    He took the parcel, placed it on a handy milestone, and held her face in his hands. Then he kissed her sweetly, and said, “Thank you, darling Floss. It’s the nicest present I’ve had today.”
    Floss swallowed. “Um, well, how do you know, if you haven’t opened it?”
    Together they sat down on the milestone, and Ben unwrapped the chocolates. “I was right,” he said. “Much the nicest present. Shall we indulge?”
    They opened the box and indulged. Eventually, Floss closed the lid and stood up. “We’d better leave a few for tomorrow. Come on, let’s walk up the hill and see if anything’s going on in the woods.” She was not eager to discover more scary lights, but was sure they would be more safe from the eyes of prying passers-by. They wouldn’t have to go far into the woods for a bit of a cuddle …
    They wandered slowly up the hill, and at the first turning into the woods silently climbed the stile and, closely entwined, found a path that led away from the road. It was well-marked, and Ben said, “People do come this way, Floss. See the footprints? Big ‘uns.”
    “So you were a Boy Sprout! Got your tracking badge, did you?” She laughed and tickled him. “ ‘You’ll never go to heaven, with a fat Girl Guide,’ ” she sang, “ ‘ ’cos the pearly gates, ain’t quite that wide ….’ ”
    Ben put his finger to his lips. “Shush!”he whispered. “Could be some others in the woods, like the other night. An’ I don’t like the look of those footprints.” His face was serious, and Floss sobered up immediately. Now they walked quietly and silently, until Ben stopped. “Come here,” he said. “I want to give you a thank-you kiss.” He gently moved her until her back was against the broad trunk of a tree. The silence was broken only by a nightingale, trilling a lovely song right on cue.
    * * *
    I N ANOTHER PART OF THE WOOD , R EG A BTHORPE frowned. “Listen!” he said.
    One of his companions said, “Listen to what?”
    “Thought I heard voices. Over there.” He pointed to the far side of the wood, back along the path they had used an hour or so ago.
    “It’s that bloody bird. Nuthin’ else.” The man turned back to the business in hand.
    “Shut up!” Reg said. “Lie low until I get back. I’m goin’ to check. Can’t take any risks, y’ fool. All of you, find some cover and keep shtum.” He watched them until they were hidden in the underbrush, and then set off back along the path.
    Not far from the stile, Reg stopped. He could see a dark shape against a tree that had not been there before. He moved forward, and his foot caught in a snaking bramble, throwing him forward on to his face. He was on his feet in seconds, standing motionless for a fraction of time, and then running like a demon back along the path. But not before Ben and Floss had seen him. He could hear footsteps behind him, and knew they were following. Just as well I know these woods like the back of me hand, he said to himself calmly, and dived off into what looked like impenetrable thicket.
    “Lost him!” said Ben, pulling up in front of Floss. Both were panting and scarlet with effort.
    “Who was he?” Floss gasped.
    “Not sure,” Ben said, “but I think I’ve seen him in our Gardens. Visiting Mr. Everitt. Not lately, but I’m sure it was him.”
    “Was he a—oh, what d’ you call them—voy …?”
    “Voyeur? Peeping Tom? Shouldn’t think so. How would he have known we were coming? No, he was up to something else, though God knows what.”
    “D’you think he knew who we were?” Floss was beginning to