Cave of Secrets Read Free Page B

the bed-chamber. She was shaking her head and muttering to herself. Her collapsed mouth was toothless, her shoulders stooped with age. A few locks of grey hair clung to a pink scalp. Eithne had been nurse to all four of the Flynn children. Now she was demoted to housemaid. She did not know what would become of her when she was too old and crippled for even that work. William Flynn was not a charitable man.
    Her eyes swept the room. The walls were covered withhorsehair plaster. A chest with drawers stood in one corner. The floor was bare. The only window was secured at night by heavy timber shutters. Below the window was a small cabinet with space underneath for a chamber pot.
    The panel giving access to the bed-closet was firmly closed.
    The ancient oak forests that once carpeted Ireland were nearly gone. Cut down to build England’s warships. Burned for charcoal so Irish chieftains would have no place to hide. The enclosed bed that sheltered Tom from drafts was made of deal painted to look like oak. His father had warned him not to scratch the finish. ‘I paid the king’s coin for that piece. Damage it and you will sleep on the floor.’
    In a bed-closet which pretended to be Irish oak, Tom tried to pretend he was back in the cave.
    He felt a tickle in his nose. Try as he might, he could not hold back a mighty sneeze.
    Eithne scurried to the bed-closet and slid back the panel. With one gnarled finger she poked at a mountain range of rumpled blankets. ‘Master Tom? Is it yourself under there?’
    Reluctantly, the boy sat up, yawning and stretching as if he had been fast asleep.
    ‘We’re worn to the bone searching for you,’ the old woman complained. ‘When you didn’t come for your supper I thought for sure you’d scarpered. It fair put the heart crosswise in me.’
    At the mention of food Tom’s stomach rumbled. ‘What was my supper?’
    ‘Barley soup and suet pudding. I would not let them give you any of that rich party food. Och, you were wicked to disappear, lad. I was blamed, even if you’re not my babby any more.’
    ‘What happened wasn’t your fault. It was just …’ Tom paused, knowing he did not have to explain to her. Eithne knew how harshly William treated his only son. ‘I thought it best to stay out of his sight for a while, so I went as far away as I could. After dark I returned and sneaked up the back stairs. I’ve been in my bed ever since.’
    That much was true. But he had left out the bit in the middle. The bit where he found the cave. And made a friend.
    When they had parted at the top of the cliff, Donal had said, ‘Now you know the way, Tom Flynn, come back again if you like.’
    ‘Tomorrow?’
    Donal shook his head. ‘Not tomorrow. Give it …’ He counted out the fingers on his lean hand. ‘Give it three days.’
    ‘Will you be here then?’
    ‘I might,’ said Donal with a shrug. ‘Will you come?’
    ‘I might,’ Tom replied. And shrugged.
    The two boys laughed.
    ‘Take care that no one follows you,’ Donal warned as they parted. ‘Come down through that cut in the cliff face theway I showed you, and give a whistle at the mouth of the cave. Like this, listen.’
    Tom had listened carefully.
    * * *
    Eithne went to tell Tom’s mother that he was home and safe, then brought the boy some bread and cheese. While he gobbled the meal she sat beside him. As he wiped the last crumbs from his mouth he said, ‘Sing me a lullaby, Eithne.’
    The old woman smiled. ‘It’s a long time since I sang suantraí to one of the childer.’
    ‘You know the one I like best. Please?’ The gentry were not supposed to say please to servants, but Tom said it anyway – as long as he was out of his father’s hearing. He snuggled down into the bed and pulled the quilt up to his chin, waiting.
    Eithne heaved a sigh and settled herself on a three-legged stool beside the bed. Her cracked voice filled the chamber. ‘ Come and take a ride with me upon my magic pony ,’ she sang lovingly. ‘