Chapter 8

The Sunday School picnic was an annual event. Lord Glendamore allowed his extensive semi-wild gardens to be used for the meeting every year. Somehow one of the Sunday School teachers had persuaded him and Lady Glendamore to sponsor it. There were rumours, of course there were; wicked tongues suggested the beautiful and angelic Miss Hangstone had offered something of herself. This was indeed simply a wicked lie. In fact the initial opening had come from the previous vicar of St Michaels, who had known Lady Glendamore from long ago. She had died three years ago, but the tradition had been maintained. For this was the churches picnic. All the Sunday Schools (even the Catholic one was invited, but they refused with ill grace, much to the children’s dismay) were invited and so a caravan of carts and charabancs would make their way up onto the moors and then down the hill into Glendamore – the valley housing the whole estate; in fact the whole valley was the estate, right up onto Old More Fell where the grouse shooting range was (where Bill Withers had been walking recently and just ‘came across’ a few grouse that wanted to go into his pot).

The gardens of Glendamore are famous of course, hidden ponds, small arbours, fruit trees dotted around; described by Doctor Angram as ‘Elysium made flesh’. At the bottom of the formal gardens the river flowed down the valley; there had been rain up on the hills overnight and as a result the river was flowing fast; yet the sun was shining and warm. Perhaps that sunshine lulled the adults into not warning the children enough.

Despite not actually attending the Sunday School, Simon and Susan had been invited. The term ‘Sunday School’ had become somewhat superfluous as it was more of a church picnic now. The older members of the churches sat on chairs in shade provided by trees, the Sunday School teachers organised games like running and tug of war, and the younger adults walked in the gardens. It wasn’t long before Simon and Susan were joined by Emily and Elizabeth. “Good day! Lovely here isn’t it?” He said, and assured them that they weren’t intruding. Perhaps Simon and Susan’s body language suggested more than a simple walk.

“It is Simon. Oh how delightful it would be to swim in one of the ponds.” Elizabeth said.

Susan observed “I think that large pond fronted by bushes is named the ‘Swimming Pool’ but I suspect that several of the older members of our churches would have palpitations or worse if we all leapt in. It does look inviting I agree. Oh, I wonder if they should be so close to the river? It may not be safe.” But they assumed that someone was watching and joined in the rounders game.

“OH! COME QUICK!” The young girl was barely lucid, but whilst two of the teachers tried to make sense of what she was saying, Simon and Susan were already running to the river. At a small sandy beach, four children were shouting at someone across the river clinging on to a branch. Since they were shouting ‘hang on’ and since she was hardly likely to let go unless she had to, Susan told them to be quiet. They had all been paddling and daring each other, and then one had gone too deep and the undercurrent had swept her off her feet. How she made it across (and down) was a mystery but now she was holding on to a branch and would get tired soon. She was about eleven or twelve, dressed in her Sunday best of white cotton dress.

“Make a rope, I’ll go over to hold her there.” But Simon ran up the river, fifty yards further up, he stripped to his long johns and jumped in. He let the river take him down as he struck out across the water. He swept towards the outstretched branch that was just above the water, he realised there was a danger that he might knock into the girl who was clinging on. He tried to arrive to one side of her, smashing into the branch, he felt a branch under the water but thought no more about it. “Hello, how are you? Now, what’s your name?”

“Hdgsh”

“What is it?”

“Helen Smith.”

“Well, Helen Smith, I’m Simon Peters; and I will not let you come to harm. Okay, First, let us see what we can do. If I push you up, can you lie on top of the branch? You will be safer then.” He edged towards her, holding on, then he wrapped one arm around the branch and hooked his arm under the girl. He could tell that his hand was in a personal part of her anatomy, but it gave him the purchase to push her up. “Now, yes ... hold ... and ... perfect.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine for a while, someone will be along soon.”

“My dress is ruined! I’ll get into trouble.”

“You’d be in more trouble if you drowned. Parents are odd about things like their children drowning without asking first. Don’t worry, one problem at a time. Ah, here she comes.”

Susan had taken her dress off, and pulled her shift up and tucked in into her bloomers. She followed his approach and floated down towards them. Her technique left much to be desired, but was balanced by her desperation to get across. The rope was the tug of war rope and weighed her down as she went further and further out, but she was swimming as strongly as she could and he grabbed her as she arrived. “Thank you Simon, you can let go of that I think.” His arm was round her and his hand held her breast. It was obvious, yet again, that cotton clothes were not good at hiding bodies when they were wet. Her breasts were both very visible. “We are going to have a problem when we get back ashore.”

“One step at a time. Who is at the other end?”

“I told Emily and Elizabeth to loop the rope round a trunk and hold on tight. I didn’t think I’d trust them to tie a knot. Now, how do we get back?”

“Well, if it is securely tied we just need to let the current carry us down and we will swing back like a pendulum. We need to hurry, she’s getting cold ... and so am I.”

Across the river, a crowd had collected now, this was the most exciting event for ages.

“Right, now, Helen, I want you to swing your leg back over and slide down to hold me round my neck.” The girl didn’t move, now she was above the water, she was frozen with fear. “Helen, you can do this, I am sure you can.”

“Helen? I’ll come up and help you.” Susan held on to the branch and then used smaller offshoots to pull herself up behind Simon, he could feel her body pressed hard against him by the water. He could see her breasts plainly now. It would have been a delight if he wasn’t rapidly becoming cold in the rushing river.

“Oh, no, really? Now?” he said.

“What? What’s wrong.”

“Oh, well, nothing. It’s just your body, I...”

“Really? I heard a scurilious comment once when I was not meant to be listening. Miss Barker said ‘Well men only think with one part of their anatomy’. I think you prove her point. Now Helen, here we go, give me your hand. That’s it, now swing that leg over.” She was still whimpering a little about her dress. “I’m sure it will clean up nicely. That’s good, arms around Simon’s neck. Not too tight. Legs around his chest.” Simon meanwhile now held tight to the rope that Susan had brought over.

“Mummy said I shouldn’t open my legs for a man. She said I could get pregnant?”

“Did she? Well quite right. But I don’t think she meant this. I’m here, nothing to worry about.” SPLASH! “Ohh that’s cold.” She had jumped back in and grabbed the rope at the same time.

“Good. Shall we?” Simon pushed off and Susan and he then kicked for the opposite bank. The current carried them down, the rope tauntened and then they started to move across. The girl weighed on his back and the rope was heavy too, he was barely able to keep above water, so he had to kick vigorously to stay afloat. When they finally drifted into the grassy bank, he was exhausted.

“Now then, get those blankets round them to keep them warm.” It was Miss Barker’s stern voice ringing out over the hubbub. Actually it was less to do with keeping them warm and more that she had realised what the other adults had not, that they were be very visible through their wet underclothes. A girl of fourteen or so wrapped a blanket around Simon with a smile that said she had taken a good look at his body first. Susan looked over and rolled her eyes. Was he a target for every pubescent girl in Newborough? The young girl Helen broke away from the people fussing around her and went to him and gave him a big hug. Then she did the same to Susan, who was touched by the action; she was starting to think that any young girl formed an affection for this boy.