Free Safe Harbour by Marita Conlon-Mckenna Page A

stupid, and made them hang their saturated clothes near the big old range to dry. They both hunched up close to the fire, trying to dry themselves off with towels.
    It was awful being forced to stay inside. Carrigraun seemed gloomy and dreary, like a prison from which they could not escape.
    Grandfather was busy working in his study and would be annoyed if they disturbed him, so it was up to Sophie to keep Hugh quiet and out of harm’s way.
    Luckily she found a worn-out pack of cards and she sat down at the dining table to play with him, hoping he was too young to notice that the four and ace of clubs were missing, and that they only had two queens. He could only concentrate for about an hour or so, then he got restless.
    ‘I’m bored!’ he said.
    ‘But you’re winning!’ she consoled him. It was a bit of a job, but she was doing her best to make sure he won most of the time.
    ‘Bored with a capital B,’ he said stubbornly. ‘Let’s play tag!’
    ‘No, Hugh!’ she replied.
    ‘Then hide and seek – please Sophie! You can hide first!’
    ‘Oh all right then. But not too much noise, do you hear!’ she added, bored herself.
    Sophie ran up the stairs, wondering which room to pick. In the end she settled for the large walk-in hot press. It was lined with shelves of towels, bed linen, and men’s shirts andclothes. She would wedge her way into the deepest corner, and maybe drape a towel down to hide behind. It was very dark inside as only three small holes let light in from the outside, and she hoped that Hugh wouldn’t take too long to discover her.
    Hunkered down, she ran her hand along the slats of varnished wood. Someone had scratched something on one of the slats – maybe a name or a secret message?
    There was no sign of Hugh, so she got back up and opened the door a fraction, letting in a shaft of light. She could read it now: NEIL – her father’s name. It was carved out in deep, long straight lines. She pulled the door closed again. He must have hidden here too. It comforted her to think of him running around this house many years ago.
    She could hear a step outside and got a terrible urge to giggle. The door was flung open. ‘Got you!’ screamed Hugh, all excited, as she emerged into the blinding light.
    ‘Ssh! Ssh!’ she warned him. ‘Grandfather!’
    They took turns all afternoon. Yelling and shouting with excitement when they got too close or found each other. Then Hugh was gone for ages and ages. Sophie searched upstairs and downstairs, under things, behind things, and still she could not find him.
    Where in heaven’s name had he got to? He wasn’t in the garden as it was still pouring outside.
    ‘Hugh! Hugh!’ she called softly, beginning to get worried now. As if drawn by a magnet or some strange warning instinct, she tiptoed back upstairs and opened her grandfather’s bedroom door.
    There was a large double bed in the centre of the room, with a heavy sea-blue silk quilted cover on it. At one side of the bed a table almost toppled over with an uneven pile of books and a dusty old bedside light.
    ‘Hugh! I hope you’re not hiding in here,’ she whispered.
    She looked at the huge dark wardrobe; on one side of it was a doorway to what must be a dressing room.
    ‘Hugh!’ she pleaded urgently.
    ‘Sophie, look!’ Hugh almost jumped out from behind the dressing-room door. ‘Look what I found!’
    Sophie nearly died with fright – it was a leg, a wooden leg! Hugh was waving it around like it was a cricket bat.
    ‘Stop it, Hugh! You might break it.’
    ‘There’s lots of them, look!’
    Sophie swallowed hard when he swung open the cupboard door to reveal a collection of legs – some flesh-coloured, one white and gleaming, looking almost like bare bone, and two shaped to resemble a normal adult leg.
    ‘Hugh! Come away!’
    But her brother was over-excited, showing off. The legs must have scared the daylights out of him when he discovered them. Now he was getting his own back on her