Free Gunpowder Plot by Carola Dunn

holiday here anyway. I’m afraid it’s not the best time of year to visit England.”
    “Last week was a fair cow. Hardly stopped raining and cold with it, and a wind like to cut you to the bone. This ain’t so bad, now.”
    The lights in the house behind them went out. In the sudden darkness, a million stars spangled the sky.
    “Gosh!” said Daisy. “What with rain and clouds and fog, you hardly ever see so many stars.”
    “Ah, you want to go out in the bush with your swag and—”
    A huge bang and a series of pops signalled the beginning of the show. Blue, green, and red lights shot up from the bottom terrace. Then a couple of rockets soared up to burst in a shower of gold and silver globes, which parachuted slowly down. People crowded towards the balustrade. “Women and children first!” someone said jovially. In the shuffle, Daisy lost Mr. Gooch.
    By the eerie glow of half a dozen blue fountains, she found herself near the top of the steps, beside Babs, who was hanging on to the collars of her nephews.
    “I don’t see why we can’t go down to the next terrace,” Reggie whined, to the accompaniment of various explosions from below.
    “Mummy would let us.”
    “Your grandfather wouldn’t. Oh, hullo, Daisy.”
    “Why can’t we have sparklers?” Adrian had his brother’s whine pat. “The village brats have sparklers.”
    “Don’t call the village children brats,” Babs said sharply.
    “Mummy does. Why can’t we have sparklers, too?”
    “There’s no room up here. Someone would get hurt.”
    “Then let us go down to the next terrace!” said Reggie self-righteously, with logic on his side.
    “If you behave yourselves now, I’ll find you some sparklers for later, when people go in.”
    The boys’ response was lost in a fusillade as glowing balls floating down from rockets sent out exploding sparks. Babs let go of them and they slipped away through the crowd.
    “I’d better provide some sparklers.” She sighed, taking an electric torch from her pocket. “I suppose the rest of the children will want them, too. Thank heaven they go up to their nannies in the schoolroom for their supper. Are you all right, Daisy? Need to sit down?”
    “No, I’m enjoying the show, thanks.”
    The balustrade was lined with children now, oohing and aahing, while adult guests moved about, talking when they could make themselves heard. The constant, ever-changing glare of rockets and Catherine wheels, Roman candles and Greek fire seldom left them in darkness for more than a moment. Clouds of smoke drifted up from the bottom terrace into the sky and the smell of gunpowder began to pervade the air.
    Alternating green and red flares made people’s faces ghastly as a woman came up to Daisy and introduced herself as Mrs. Yarborough, Adelaide’s mother-in-law. Gwen had just told her about Reggie and Adrian throwing squibs at the car and she wanted to apologize for her grandsons’ misbehaviour.
    “I’m afraid they run wild.” She sounded harassed. “Adelaide can’t control them and won’t let anyone else try to discipline them. My poor son must be turning in his grave.”
    Daisy’s commiserating murmurs were drowned by a flurry of extra-noisy explosions from below, including whistles and squeals as well as the commoner bangs, cracks, and pops. Mrs. Yarborough drifted away. As the show continued, Daisy exchanged admiring remarks with the succession of strangers who paused momentarily nearby.
    Her toes were beginning to freeze when Jack came and stood beside her. “Doing all right, Mrs. Fletcher?”
    “It’s spectacular. You and your father and Mr. Miller have done a wonderful job. I can’t wait to see the set piece.”
    “Just coming up. The next item is— Hold on! What’s that fool Biddle up to? That’s only half the rockets. I’d better go and see what’s happening.” He took a torch from his pocket and bounded down the steps.
    Daisy hoped the torch, combined with the gold sunburst and showers of