The Golden Acorn - Catherine Cooper [6]
‘Elan tells me you met Nora yesterday.’
Jack nodded.
‘Do I have to go?’
‘It would be rude not to. You must have made a good impression. Not everyone gets invited to Ewell House.’
‘Couldn’t you come with me?’
‘When we’ve finished at the Club I’ll walk with you as far as the front gate but then you’re on your own.’
After lunch Jack walked back down the lane, only this time with Grandad. As they passed the field the same boys were playing football again. Jack kept well hidden behind Grandad so they wouldn’t see him. He took the opportunity to look around as they made their way towards the Cricket Club. A large hill loomed above the hedge in the direction they were travelling. In places the trees had grown together to form a kind of archway, a green tunnel, which gave some shade from the afternoon sun. It wasn’t long before they reached the gate to the Club.
Once inside the ground Jack noticed a large black bird sitting on top of the pavilion clock. It cocked its head on one side and cawed loudly.
‘Is that a crow?’
‘Too big for a crow, more like a raven,’ replied Grandad as he unlocked the shed where the chairs were stored.
For the next half hour Jack helped take the flat chairs over to the pavilion and arrange them in rows for the afternoon’s game. He could only manage one at a time. He was hot and thirsty by the time they’d finished.
‘Get yourself down to the kitchen, tell the ladies who you are and they’ll give you a drink. You might even get a piece of cake. I’m going to make sure the changing rooms are clean.’
Jack went inside the pavilion. He could hear the chinking of cups and saucers coming from a room at the end. He’d only taken a couple of steps when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder.
‘Got you!’ the man holding Jack exclaimed. ‘Down ‘ere with you. Let’s see what you’ve got in your pockets.’
Jack was marched down to the end of the corridor and thrust into the kitchen. He didn’t dare look around and wasn’t sure what he was supposed to have done. He tried to tell the man who he was but his voice only came out in a high-pitched squeak. By now the man was speaking to the ladies in the kitchen.
‘I’ve got him, caught him red handed, sneaking in he was. Here’s your thief.’
The two ladies turned and stared at Jack.
‘OK laddie, empty your pockets,’ ordered the man as he released his hand from Jack’s shoulder.
‘I haven’t stolen anything. I’ve been helping my Grandad.’
‘A likely story.’
Suddenly Jack felt very guilty. He remembered the shiny acorn in his pocket. Was it stolen? How would he convince the man he’d found it?
‘I’m still waiting,’ growled the man who now stood with his hands out in front of Jack.
If he ran they’d think he was guilty. There was nothing else to do but empty his pockets. Jack placed a crumpled tissue, a piece of string, half a packet of mints and the heavy acorn in the man’s hands.
‘And the rest.’
‘I haven’t got anything else.’
Jack hung his head. Tears were welling up in his eyes.
‘Perhaps there’s been a mistake,’ one of the ladies began. ‘Are you sure he’s the thief? He hasn’t got anything valuable here.’
‘He’s small enough to have come through the window,’ the man continued as he pointed up to an open skylight. ‘He was lurking about in the pavilion. What’s he doing here anyway? Up to no good if you ask me.’
‘I’ve been helping my Grandad, Sam Brenin.’
‘Sam Brenin!’ exclaimed the man.
‘Did I hear my name?’ asked Grandad as he entered the kitchen.
Jack rushed over to him.
‘They think I’m a thief but I haven’t taken anything. I found the acorn yesterday.’
‘What’s missing?’ asked Grandad.
‘All the small change from the tea money,’ replied the older woman. ‘We thought it was probably a youngster because nothing else was taken.’
‘And when is Jack supposed to have stolen this money?’
‘Sometime last Saturday night. It was there in the afternoon; by Sunday morning it was gone,’ replied the man grumpily.
‘Jack’s not your thief,’ Grandad assured them. ‘He only arrived here on Friday. Give him his things back Don and