She bent her knees once more and reached for a leg of Rodney’s trousers. Folding back the turnup, she found what she was looking for-tiny specks of colored confetti. The confetti that supposedly had been missing until after the Winterhalters had left the village hall. The same confetti that had been sprinkled all over Brian Sutcliffe’s body.
“Why are we going out so late?” Polly asked nervously. “It’s going to be dark soon.”
Pedaling alongside her on the coast road, Sadie took a hand off a handlebar to push her hair out of her eyes. “You wanted to make sure the storm was over, didn’t you? Besides, we’re going to need the dark to sneak in and rescue the girls.”
“That’s if we find them.” Polly chewed her bottom lip. The closer they got to the windmill, the less she wanted to be there. She hoped Sadie knew what she was doing. “What if the bobbies have already searched the windmill and found no one there?”
“Then we look somewhere else. It’s just a first place to start looking.”
“But if it’s dark, how are we going to see them without lights?”
“I brought a torch with me, didn’t I.”
“But-”
Sadie twisted her head to look at her. “Polly, if you’re having second thoughts about this then you’d better go home. I don’t need to be worried about you as well as the musketeers.”
Polly swallowed hard. “I’m not having second thoughts. I just want to know what to expect, that’s all.”
“If I knew that we’d have nothing to worry about,” Sadie said grimly. “Just be prepared for anything.”
That did nothing to calm Polly’s fears. Her stomach was churning like a keg of butter by the time they reached the turn. The sun had just about disappeared behind the trees, but she could see the top of the windmill sticking up on the hill. “What if they see us coming?”
“They won’t know we’re looking for them, will they.” Sadie swung into the lane. “Besides, if they do, they’ll come to us and we won’t have to go looking for them.”
Polly uttered a squeak of fright. “Then they’ll capture us, too!”
“Not if I attack them with this.” Sadie pointed to the heavy torch in the basket hooked on the front of her bicycle. “I’ll bash them on the head with it.”
Polly stopped pedaling. “What am I supposed to do, then?”
“Kick ’em where it hurts.” Sadie drew away from her, pedaling even faster. “Hit ’em with a stick. Between us we should be able to beat them off.”
Polly gulped. Now she was really scared. She wished she hadn’t eaten bangers and mash for supper. They weren’t sitting well in her stomach.
“Come on!” Sadie waved at her and drew even farther away.
Sending up a silent prayer, Polly pedaled furiously to catch up. It was hard to do while they were going uphill, and Sadie reached the clearing to the windmill a while before Polly came to a halt.
“I’m going over there,” Sadie said quietly, as Polly leaned her bicycle against a tree. “I can’t see any movement, but they could be lying low. You stay here and wait for my signal. Find a big stick, and if you hear a rumpus you come running, all right?”
“No, I’m not all right,” Polly said, and crossed her knees. “I’ve got to piddle.”
“Well, go behind a tree. There’s no one to see you, is there.”
“All right,” Polly muttered, still feeling anything but. She watched her friend creep around the edge of the clearing. When Sadie was at the back of the windmill she gave Polly a final wave then crept forward until she disappeared from view.
Polly searched around for a big stick, wondering how on earth she’d ended up in this dangerous situation. They should have asked George if he’d looked in the windmill. She’d told Sadie that, but Sadie had insisted they do it themselves. George would only muck it up, she’d said. Right then, Polly wasn’t sure she and Sadie would do any better.
She picked up a likely looking stick and tested it against the palm of her hand. It snapped with a loud crack and she jumped a foot in the air. If anyone was going to muck things up, she thought mournfully, it was going to be her and Sadie. She should never have agreed to come with her. She should have gone and told Lady Elizabeth what Sadie was going to do. She would have known how to stop her.
She discarded the broken stick and looked for another one. After a while she found a short, thick branch that had broken off of a beech tree. This one seemed more sturdy. Grasping it in her hand, she crept back to her lookout spot.
Her stomach flipped over when she saw Sadie in the entrance to the windmill, staring in her direction and jumping up and down waving her arms. Without stopping to think, Polly charged forward, brandishing the branch above her head and yelling, “Let go of her, you rotten buggers!”
She was almost up to her friend when it occurred to her that Sadie was alone and not struggling with the musketeers as she’d imagined. Feeling really stupid, she lowered her arm and slowed her pace.
“What’d you do that for?” Polly demanded, as she came up to the door.
“For God’s sake shut up!” Sadie shoved her finger on Polly’s lips. “They’ll hear you a mile away! I’m going up top to have a look around. You wait here. If you hear me yell, come running.”
Polly nodded, shivering with fright. The rickety steps up to the top of the windmill were broken and even missing in places. The thought of rushing up there scared her to death. She’d rather face ten musketeers than go up those steps.
She watched Sadie climb up slowly, testing each step before she trod on it. Polly held her breath and wondered how on earth she would catch Sadie if she fell. The buxom housemaid was twice her weight.
The steps creaked and cracked like gunshots going off, and Polly jumped with each one. Sadie, however, showed no fear and climbed purposefully on until she was out of sight. Polly hung grimly onto the stick and prayed she wouldn’t have to use it.
All the excitement had brought back the urge to piddle. She should have gone behind the tree when she had the chance, like Sadie said. She’d forgotten about it while she was searching for the stick, but now she really needed to go.
She hopped around from one foot to the other, willing Sadie to come down before she wet her drawers. She thought about calling up to her friend, but if the musketeers were lurking around somewhere they might hear her and come running. They could overpower her long before Sadie got down from the steps.
Finally she could hold it no longer. She looked around, but the thought of what her mother would say if she knew she’d piddled on the windmill floor drove her outside. She had to sprint right across the clearing to reach the trees. Even then, she couldn’t find one big enough to hide her if someone was in the windmill looking out at her.
Stumbling along at a crossed-legged run, she plunged deeper into the woods, where the tree trunks were wider and thick tangled blackberry bushes grew underneath them. At last she spotted the perfect place and squatted down between a withered old oak tree and a bunch of flowery ferns.
The relief of finally letting go made her forget everything else for the moment. It was so peaceful there in the woods. The blackbirds were singing their evening song, and the wind in the branches above her head sounded like the sea. Right in front of her, blue and yellow wildflowers grew in dense clumps. She should take some home to Ma, she thought. Her mother loved flowers.
Polly was about to gather some when she caught sight of the stick she’d dropped in her haste to get behind the bushes. Sadie. Crikey. What if she was calling for help?
With a surge of guilt, she snatched up the stick and galloped back through the trees to the clearing. Caution made her pause at the edge of the woods, and she stared hard at the tall wooden structure of the windmill.
There was no movement, no sound. She might as well be all alone out there. It was getting dark. She could barely make out the doorway now. The fear rushed back, and she raced for the windmill and tumbled inside.