Free Lily by Holly Webb Page B

We’ll use the orangery door, no one will be there, and it’s the quickest way out to the cliff path, anyway. I hid the bags under the gorse bushes.’
    ‘She’s coming after us – or to the dining room,’ Henrietta growled, watching over Lily’s shoulder. ‘I can smell her.’
    ‘Hurry then.’
    They raced along the passage to the orangery, flinging the glass doors open, and stumbled out through the night gardens. It was a moonlit night, but still the overgrown garden seemed full of confused and disturbing shapes, which only resolved themselves into familiar landmarks as they dashed past.
    Lily risked a glance back at the house, its dark bulk shining here and there with tiny lights. One of the lights was moving now across the dining room windows.
    ‘She’s gone to Mama. They’ll be after us any minute,’ she hissed to Georgie. ‘Run faster!’
    But Georgie had stopped dead with a sharp little gasp, as a bulky figure rose up in front of them.
    Lily tried not to scream. How had Marten – or was it Mama already? – ended up in front of them?
    But then the dark form came closer, and she realised it was too small for Mama or Marten, and the strange growths on either side of it were baggage – hers and Georgie’s.
    Peter stuffed Georgie’s bag into her arms, made a strangled, urgent sort of noise, and jerked his head to tell them to hurry and follow him down a narrow little path through the gorse bushes.
    ‘Is this the quickest way?’ Georgie asked him, but of course he was in front of her, and it was dark, so he didn’t answer. ‘It looks like we’re just walking into the bushes. Lily, this can’t be right.’
    ‘Shh. Peter knows where he’s going. And I bet Mama doesn’t know this path. It goes straight down to the cliff edge. I didn’t know he meant to come and help us,’ Lily gasped out, as they chased Peter through the gorse. The path was so narrow it looked as if had been worn there by the rabbits, and the spiky gorse seized at their hair and their dresses.
    ‘There’s a light coming out of the orangery door. Lily, come on!’ Georgie seized Lily’s hand and pulled her on faster. ‘We can’t be caught, we just can’t. Mama will know we’ve been snooping. Who knows what they’ll do to us both.’
    ‘They can’t risk losing both of you,’ Henrietta pointed out. ‘Whatever the plan is, clearly they need a child.’
    ‘I’d rather be dead,’ Lily muttered. She said it without properly thinking, but as they blundered on through the gorse in dismayed silence, she realised it was true. Lily could imagine nothing worse than to be bound in a spell the way Georgie had been. Days seemed to have flowed past her sister like water, marked only by those frightened moments when she’d dimly seen that something was wrong. But those strange glimpses had never lasted long, and as they swam away from her, she’d been left to struggle on, alone and forgetful.
    At last they came out of the gorse thicket and onto the cliff path itself, its wide stone steps carved into the side of the island by the first Powers who’d built Merrythought. The boathouse sat at the bottom of the path, half built into the cliff itself, and protecting the family’s boats from the wild seas.
    The path petered out as they reached the jetty. Lily put Henrietta down, fumbled in her dress pocket for the boathouse key, and unlocked the door with fingers that suddenly fumbled and slipped. At last she managed to haul it open, its creak echoing eerily in the black, watery space beyond the doors.
    ‘I can’t see…’ Lily whispered worriedly. ‘Where’s the boat? We should have brought a lantern.’
    ‘Oh!’ Georgie sounded embarrassed. There was a moment of muttering, and then the boathouse was suddenly a place of ripples and shadows, as a soft silvery light glowed from Georgie’s hands.
    Peter made a frightened gasping noise, and Lily sighed admiringly. So useful, and so pretty. Perhaps Georgie could even teach her… Then