The Golden Acorn - Catherine Cooper [2]
The others started agreeing with the goalkeeper but none of them moved. The tall boy with the bleeding nose and hands was still trying to peer through the leaves.
‘If he’s got through there he’ll be cut up good and proper. Maybe he’ll bleed to death.’
‘Serve him right too.’
The boys began to laugh and the goalkeeper yelled through the hedge.
‘Can you hear me pixie boy? Nutty Nora’s going to get you, don’t stay in there too long or you might not come out again.’
Jack put his hands over his ears but he could still hear the keeper’s voice.
‘The old witch turns people into stone.’
Jack held his breath; he didn’t dare move. The sooner he could go home the better. The boys walked away and the shouting eventually stopped. Jack strained to listen. He was scrunched up, uncomfortable and frightened. Jack didn’t want to meet Nutty Nora but he didn’t want to go back into the lane just yet either. He wasn’t sure if the boys had really gone. He decided to wait a while, at least until his heart stopped pounding. He looked back at the hedge he’d wriggled under; it was covered in long, sharp thorns. He made a quick check of his hands and legs. There wasn’t any blood, only a prickling sensation on his palms. As he scratched them small red spots began to appear; he must have nettled himself.
He looked around cautiously from his hiding place. He was at the bottom of a very large garden. There was an old house in the distance, a bit like Grandad’s, but the sun was in his eyes and he couldn’t see it too well. A sudden movement gave Jack a fright; someone was coming towards him. He backed further into the undergrowth and held his breath again. He wished his heart would stop pounding. He was desperate to scratch his hands. They wouldn’t stop itching but he didn’t dare move. Was this Nutty Nora? If he were found he’d be in trouble; he was obviously trespassing. Jack looked around for a means of escape. It was then he noticed the statues, lots of them, more than most people had in their gardens. His knees began to tremble as he remembered the keeper’s last words. The tall figure was definitely a woman. She was so close now that he could have reached out and touched the bottom of her long flowing dress. He shut his eyes and hoped she wouldn’t see him.
‘Come out Jack Brenin; I know you’re hiding underneath my blackthorn hedge.’
The woman’s voice was stern but she didn’t sound annoyed. He wondered how she knew his name. There wasn’t any point in trying to hide. He crawled out and tried to look sorry as he stood up. In front of him was a very tall lady. She looked a lot older than his Grandad. She had a lot of wispy silvery hairs interspersed amongst the brown. As Jack hung his head he could see she had beautiful hands with long tapering fingers. He hoped the tall woman looking down at him would know he was sorry for being in her garden.
‘Have you hurt yourself?’
‘Only my hands.’
‘Let me look.’
Jack showed her his palms.
‘I’m sorry…’ he began, but the woman interrupted him.
‘Follow me. I’ve got just the thing for nettle rash.’
Jack wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to be impolite but he had no idea who this woman was. He wasn’t sure if he should follow her. What if she was a witch?
‘I’m not going to hurt you and despite what those boys were shouting I can assure you these statues are not made from people.’
She smiled at Jack.
‘I’m Eleanor Ewell but everyone calls me Nora. Your Grandad won’t mind you being here.’
‘You know my Grandad?’
‘Of course I do, and your Dad. We’ve lived next door to each other all our lives.’
‘But you know my name?’
‘I know all about you Jack Brenin. Now follow me and let me see to your hands.’
Jack obediently followed her. As they made their way towards the house he had time to look around. The garden was immense. They were on a path which led them around vast flowerbeds. Jack could hear birds singing. They passed a pedestal birdbath in the shape of a large leaf, a small lawn, a picnic bench and a large bird table. The thick, prickly hedge appeared to surround the whole garden. Near the