The Faerie Tree Read Online Free Page B

won’t let go of you, whatever happens.” He launched himself towards me and I used his momentum to pull him across. We both stumbled and I almost slid over, but we fought to remain upright as the river swirled around our legs, the lad clinging to my waist.
    Izzie was knee-deep with Toby in her arms but at that moment the toddler decided to make a bid for freedom. Struggling to hold onto him she slipped and they both fell headlong into the river. To her credit, she didn’t let go of his hand and I was able to push past the older boy and grab Toby before he had spent very long in the water. He promptly threw up an improbably large amount of river, then started wailing as Icarried him to the shore. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the other boy help Izzie up and hand in hand they picked their way back to dry land.
    I had no idea what to do with a screaming toddler so I put Toby down on the grass while holding him firmly by the shoulders. Izzie looked equally helpless but the older boy, who I took to be his brother, was more experienced in these matters.
    â€œToby – shut up.” Nothing happened.
    â€œTobes – I’m telling you – put a sock in it.” Still no response, but he had a final gambit. “If you stop crying right now I’ll let you play with my Death Star.” It worked a treat and there was silence on the riverbank.
    I turned to Izzie. “You’re soaked through.” It was a statement of the obvious if ever there was one; her sundress clung to her in a way that only accentuated how cold she was. “Take that off and put my dry clothes on,” I told her, as much for my own sake as hers.
    Her eyes sparkled. “And what are you going to wear? My dress?” I followed her gaze and suddenly felt very naked in just my damp boxer shorts.
    â€œDon’t be so silly,” she continued, “put on your trousers and wrap that baby in your shirt.”
    â€œWhy don’t you come back to Gran’s?” asked the older boy through chattering teeth. “Then you can tell her how you rescued us and perhaps I won’t get such a tongue lashing. Not until you’ve gone home, anyway.”
    â€œAnd do you deserve a tongue lashing?” I asked.
    He nodded. “I’m the oldest. And it was my idea to cross the river.” All of a sudden he looked close to tears.
    â€œWhere does your gran live?” Izzie distracted him.
    â€œIn the big house next to the farm. She keeps chickens,” he sniffed, trying to smile.
    The boy led us up the side of the field and behind the woods. We passed the farm buildings some fifty yards away then came to a tall beech hedge which seemed filled with contented clucking. At the corner was a gap and we emerged into a wide open space with a chicken coop to our right and a patchy lawn to our left. I’dbeen carrying Toby but he cried out to be let down and raced across the lawn towards the house.
    Doubtless due to his yelling the French windows opened and a tall grey haired woman stepped out, dressed in brown slacks and a blouse the colour of the mellow bricks that framed her. Toby barrelled into her legs and she picked him up.
    â€œYou’re soaked through! Stephen – what on earth’s been happening?” There was the vaguest hint of a guttural accent in her voice but I couldn’t place it.
    When Stephen didn’t reply I started to explain. “They got stuck half way across the river when the tide came up. We pulled them out but we all got a bit wet.”
    â€œYou can say that again, young man. You’d better come in and get dry – it’s the least I can do.”
    Before we knew it, Gran was bustling us through a dining room, seemingly oblivious to the trail of wet footprints across the Chinese carpet. An oak staircase rose in two flights from the hall and once we had reached the top she made the boys wait while she showed Izzie and me into a narrow