The Secret Passage Read Online Free PDF Page A

Although John was a year older than she was he was a bit absent-minded, like Dad, and would be bound to lose his passport and ticket and things.
    John was silent for a little while. Then he said, in a queer, shaky voice, “I don’t think I want to go.”
    He sounded very miserable. Mary wriggled her hand out under her mosquito net and held it out to him. They held hands across the gap between their beds.
    Mary said, “When we’re grown up, we can come back to Africa and build our bungalow up again.”
    John said, “It wouldn’t be the same. Nothing will ever be the same again.”
    *
    In his study on the other side of the bungalow, Mr Epsom put down the telephone. He was standing quite still and staringstraight ahead of him, his small, dull eyes full of tears. In spite of everything his wife had said, he had always secretly admired Mrs Mallory who had seemed to him a pretty, charming woman who was too sensible to waste her time fussing about whether the furniture had been dusted or whether her children ’s clothes were spotlessly clean.
    After a moment or two, he wiped his eyes and blew his nose very loudly. Then he went back to the veranda to tell Mrs Epsom that what she had been half-expecting to happen, had happened. Mrs Mallory had died half-an-hour ago.

CHAPTER THREE
“ENGLAND MUST BE A VERY SMALL PLACE”
    I F A UNT M ABEL thought the children were spoiled, they thought she looked very disagreeable, and not in the least like their pretty mother, who had been her younger sister.
    In fact, Mabel Haggard was ten years older than their mother. Mr Mallory had told them she was a widow because her husband had been drowned at sea and John, who had heard Sara Epsom play a piece of music called The Merry Widow had somehow expected a plump, jolly woman with a cheerful smile. But she wasn’t at all plump or jolly. She was tall and thin with a long, thin face and grey hair insecurely fastened in a straggly bun at the back of her neck. Whenever she turned her head, a little shower of hairpins fell out. She was wearing a shabby brown coat and stockings that wrinkled up on her skinny legs as if they had been intended for a much fatter person. When she met the children at London Airport, the very first thing she said to them was, “Here you are! I thought you were never coming. Your plane was two hours late.”
    It did not occur to them that she had been worried. They thought she was simply angry.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Mary said timidly. The journey had been very exciting but it had lasted for hours and now she had a funny feeling in her stomach—sick and hungry at the same time.
    â€œOh—it’s not your fault,” Aunt Mabel said. She looked at Mary and then bent to kiss her cheek. It was a clumsy little peck as if she was not really used to kissing people. She shook hands with John and said, “I expect all grown-ups tell you that you’ve grown. As far as I’m concerned, you really have. You were fifteen months old when I saw you last.”
    Then she glanced rather nervously at Ben who was glaring at her in the fierce way he had when he was wondering what people were like. She said, “You need a hair cut.”
    It wasn’t a very encouraging remark, but Ben didn’t mind. He grinned at her and took her hand as they went out to the Airport bus.
    John and Mary were quiet in the bus. They both had the feeling that their Aunt was not very pleased to see them. But Ben bounced and wriggled on the seat, looking out of the windows and squealing with excitement. He had never seen so many houses and roads and cars before.
    â€œEngland must be a very small place,” he said suddenly.
    â€œWhat a funny thing to say,” Aunt Mabel said. It didn’t sound as if she thought it was funny, her voice was slightly annoyed, but after a minute she smiled at Ben just the same. It is difficult not to smile at someone who expects you to smile at