The Forget-Me-Not Summer Read Online Free Page B

incredulously. ‘Is that where you come from, queen?’ He stood back and Miranda looked up into his face properly for the first time. It was a young face, and pleasant; a trustworthy face, she decided. But he was giving her shoulder another gentle shake and repeating his question: ‘Have you come from Jamaica Close?’
    Miranda looked wildly about her, but could recognise nothing. Reluctantly, she nodded. ‘I suppose I must have walked from there to wherever we are now,’ she said slowly, ‘only I must have done it in my sleep because I don’t remember anything. I guess I was searching for my mother; she’s disappeared. Only I know she’s still alive somewhere and needing me.’
    The policeman stared, then nodded slowly. ‘Oh aye, you’ll be Arabella Lovage’s daughter. Well, you won’t find her here, my love, so I guess I’d best take you back home again. You live up the Avenue, don’t you?’
    Miranda heaved a sigh, realising suddenly that shewas terribly tired and wanted nothing more than her bed. Even a miserable little four inches of mattress, which was all she managed to get at Aunt Vi’s house, would be preferable to standing in the cold moonlight whilst she tried to explain to a total stranger why she no longer lived up the Avenue.
    But explain she must, of course, and managed to do so in a few quick words. The scuffer pulled a doubtful face. ‘That’s well off my beat, chuck, so perhaps the best thing will be for the pair of us to walk back to the station. The sarge is a good bloke; he’ll get you a cup of tea and see that someone – probably me – takes you home. I reckon there’ll be a fine ol’ to-do in Jamaica Close when they find you’re missing.’
    They carried out the policeman’s suggestion, and as he had assumed he was told to accompany Miranda back to her aunt’s house. First, though, because of the chill of the night, he wrapped her in a blanket and sat her on the saddle of his bicycle so that she was pushed home in some style, and for the first time in many weeks she felt that somebody cared what became of her.
    They reached the house to find the back door standing open, but it soon became clear that she had not been missed. The policeman, who told her his name was Harry, was rather shocked and wanted to wake the household, but Miranda begged him not to do so and he complied, though only after she had promised to come to the station the next day to discuss what had happened. ‘For we can’t have young ladies wanderin’ barefoot in the streets, clad only in a nightgown,’ he told her. ‘I’m on duty tomorrow from three in the afternoon so you’d best come to the station around four o’clock; I’ll see you there.’
    Miranda slipped into the house, closed the door behind her and went up to bed. Beth moaned that her feet were cold, but then fell immediately asleep once more and made no comment when the family awoke the following day.
    Miranda, usually the most eager of pupils, sagged off school and went straight to the theatre, because she wanted at least one member of the cast to hear about her weird experience, a desire that was fully justified by the excitement her story engendered.
    â€˜If you walks in your sleep, ducks, then it’s quite likely your mam did as well,’ Miss Briggs informed her. ‘Runs in families that does, sleepwalkin’ I mean. In times of stress some folk can go miles; I’ve heard of women catchin’ trams or buses – trains, even – when they’s sound asleep and should be in their beds. If your mam was loose on the streets, someone could ha’ took advantage.’ She gave Miranda a jubilant hug. ‘Mebbe we’re gettin’ somewhere at last. Wharra lucky thing it were a scuffer what found you. He’ll know full well you didn’t make nothin’ up and mebbe they’ll start