Chapter One
Preparing to Move
There were days when Miss Menzies almost believed she had imagined the borrowers. Every day for many a month she had walked down the path past Vine Cottage in Little Fordham at least once hoping to see Arrietty, Pod, or Homily. After awhile though, she began to doubt herself, or despair that she would ever see them again, the little folk who had made themselves so happily at home in Vine Cottage and then had so mysteriously disappeared.
When she expressed these doubts, though, Abel Pott would shake his head, and say, "Margaret, my dear, I seen them with my own eyes. You're as sane as I am."
As they had worked to fix up the cottage in the hope that one day the small people who had settled in at Mr. Pott's model village that one glorious summer would return, she had become Margaret to him and he had become Abel to her, and they had developed a warm affection that kept her going when she despaired.
She was not the only one who had despaired over the loss of Pod, Homily and Arrietty. Spiller had as well. When he had discovered Arrietty missing and the cottage deserted he had been stuck with a feeling he had not felt in many a year. It was a feeling of loss that had devastated him. He had been stunned and had checked back at the cottage often as he traveled up and down the river, hoping like Miss Menzies that Arrietty would someday return.
It comforted him to be there, and when he found something special on the paths, like a handkerchief, or a broken necklace chain, he took them to the store room they'd made in the back of the shop. Once he found a leather coin purse and thought for a long time how much they all would have liked that. Coins made wonderful plates and Pod would have liked the soft, thin brown leather for shoemaking. Spiller could picture Arrietty wearing a new pair of brown shoes made from that leather.
When he'd first seen her Arrietty had been walking around the field with her parents in quite worn out clothing and shoes, looking Spiller found out later, for the badger's set not knowing that the Hendrearys were long gone. They hadn't seen him but he had watched them with interest.
Spiller had been looking for the boot. He was fond of that boot. It was one of his favorite haunts, but when he discovered it had been moved and then found where it had been moved to, he knew right away that there were different borrowers about than he had ever seen before. He'd checked over their gear and decided to use their half nail scissor to cut up some mouse he'd just killed. While cutting up the mouse he'd glanced through the grass and seen them trudging along the edge of the field with some corn.
Arrietty had been dragging along as much corn as Pod, back straight and looking determined. That's a plucky one, Spiller had thought, admiringly. Her curly brown hair had been streaming behind her in the breeze, her cheeks had been pink with exertion and her eyes had been bright. Pretty, too, he decided. A very pretty girl, that.
He had watched, amused, as Homily shouted, "Save the tea" and began to beat with a thistle at the moth that had wandered into the alcove they'd made. Moths were not dangerous but Spiller had to concede that owls could be. He was a bit concerned as the owl swooped down and took the moth. He knew the almost silent sound of an owl, what their shadows looked like, and how to freeze into invisibility so an owl would pass him by but these borrowers were obviously new to the outdoors.
He'd have to go and introduce himself at some point and try to help them. He put the meat he had hanging into the back of the curve of a large tree root, and stuffing some more fleece into another root hole of the same tree he went to sleep, wondering how adaptable these new folks were going to be.
When Spiller saw Pod set off across the field the next day he decided that the new man in the area had a determined look about him and wondered for the first time if he might be looking for the Hendreary family. That would explain the new family's hike around the field the previous day.
Spiller got a bit of a shock when the women went down to the water. He could understand their need to fetch water but he could not understand the girl taking off all of her clothes and getting in herself.
When the mother left the girl saying she was going to "go get the tea on" Spiller watched thunderstruck as Arrietty stayed in the water and went for a tentative swim after she had scrubbed off. He had never seen a strange girl naked and it caused a hodge podge of feelings. And she was a girl, not completely a grown up, but close, he had no doubt of that. Nigh onto grown, but not quite.
He was a bit relieved when she got finally got dressed again and started to climb the hedge. Spiller ducked into the hedge and started to climb as well. He stopped just below her silently as she carefully pulled the horsehair out and wound it around her slender wrist. The girl had nice long hands and feet and was a nimble climber for one who had spent most of her life indoors, and he was convinced she had grown up indoors by the way the whole family acted and by the fairness of her complexion.
Spiller was able to get quite close, almost next to her, and as she put one foot down he set his hand on the branch. She touched him and gave a tiny scream. Amused, Spiller pulled away and watched her as she tried to figure out what had happened. Finally seeing something, she put her foot down again, and this time he grasped it. When she lost her balance and went down he dropped down beside her, laughing. Life was so unpredictable!
"That frightened you," he said. He could tell she was more embarrassed than angry, although her voice was angry, and when she asked him his name he gave it freely.
"You're filthy," she had told him, and that didn't bother him. She hadn't been outside to learn much about camouflage.
Spiller gave evasive answers about where he lived and how old he was. He did know about how old he was even if he no longer remembered his exact birthday although he knew it was in the fall, and whether or not he was a boy or a grown up was a matter of opinion.
To the Hendreary family he was a boy. To his friend Burgonet and his wife, Arista, he was a man. To old Daubery, he was sometimes one and sometimes the other. Now that he was seeing her up close he thought he might be a bit older than this girl was. She looked about thirteen or fourteen. He was at least sixteen, and maybe seventeen. He'd lost track a bit in those first few years he'd been on his own. He'd have to think about it sometime.
When she said the hole in the bank was her home he almost told her that he had been the one to find the boot in the first place but then decided not to bother. There would be time for that later. He'd not left anything there to indicate ownership, after all. They hadn't known when they were arranging things that another borrower had ever been there.
When he killed the mouse he got a better judgment of her character. She was shocked, as anyone who had never seen meat killed would be, but her interest in his quiver and arrows showed keen curiosity.
He almost knew when he picked it up that the cricket was not a good idea, but he pushed the thought aside. He wanted for some reason to give this girl something and wasn't sure what. He couldn't imagine anyone not wanted a nice leg of mouse, but you never knew what people liked until you got to know them.
When Homily took off on him he was slightly hurt but had faith in the girl's indignation on his behalf. This woman might not know she needed his help, or be ready to accept it, but help she did need. He decided to come back when the husband was home. He looked like a more reasonable sort.
As he left, Spiller heard the girl scolding her mother, "Poor Spiller! You were rude…" and laughed softly. Yes, this girl had gumption and he came to like Pod, who reminded him at times of his own father, and was much more sensible than Hendreary, or old Daubery down at Holmcraft. Burgonet over in Went-le-Craye had been pleasant enough to hang about with even though he was a few years older than Spiller, but since he'd gone and got married to that girl he'd found from Befordshire Spiller didn't spend as much time with him.
While Pod, Homily and Arrietty were gone he had even taken to hanging about the Hendreary's home more often through that long, cold, winter, much as Lupy's chattering and putting on airs irritated him. They were a link to Arrietty. When he had first told them how he had found Vine Cottage they had grieved with him, going into mourning all over again for their lost relatives. They were willing to speculate with him through the long cold months about what might have happened.
Only Eggletina, however, had understood Spiller's deeper sadness. One night, having come in for a meal and his new spring clothes, which Lupy had just finished, grumbling all the while about how she was started to run out of white kid, Spiller was getting ready to go when Eggletina uncharacteristically followed him to the dimly lit platform by the ladder.
"You mustn't give up hope," Eggletina had told him. He had stared at her, shocked. He had never had a conversation with her, no more than she had ever had with him, but now she was trying to comfort him.
"Pod is clever and Arietty has spunk. Wherever they are and whatever caused them to leave so suddenly won't keep them away forever. Arrietty cares about you, Spiller, enough to…enough not to…" Her words failed her.
"What makes you say that?" He really wanted to know.
"I know from the way she talked about you. When you first brought them here you slipped away and Arietty was practically crying. She said they should have thanked you for saving their lives. She mentioned you so many other times, too. Mother used to tease her about it. Arrietty thought you must be lonely."
"Never was lonely" Spiller said thoughtfully, "or at least didn't know it until I met Arrietty. I like her, Eggletina. Want her back more than I ever wanted anything, at least not since I was a tot." He smiled slightly.
Eggletina squeezed his arm. "That's the ticket," she said. "You don't sound like a boy when you say that. You sound like my oldest brother. Halberd wants something of his own and he's often out of sorts because he can't have it. You're getting like that Spiller, and that's all right. I'm sure it will turn out just fine. Arrietty will come back and then you will be happy."
"What about you?" Spiller ventured.
Eggletina shrugged her thin shoulders. "I'm not happy, but I'm not sad, either. There's really nothing in my heart."
"Not so," countered Spiller. "You care, too. I appreciate that."
"Tell us when you find them," Eggletina said with a small smile, and slipped back toward the drawing room where Lupy still speculated on all of the horrible things that might have befallen her brother's family, in between complaining about the temporary groundskeeper who was staying at the cottage. He was leaving any day, having only been contracted until spring, when young Tom was due back.
"Never thought I'd say this," Lupy muttered in a huff, "never in a million years, but I'll be glad when the boy's back. This one's been lazier than an old dog in the sun. Things have just gone to wrack and ruin around here."
As Spiller left the Hendreary family and rode down to see his friend Burgonet and his wife, Arista, in an effort to keep from thinking too much about the loneliness caused by Arrietty's disappearance, Spiller tried to think as well of all the reasons things were so complicated for him with Arrietty.
The fact that they were both a bit shy hadn't helped. They could really only talk when they were alone. When they were with her parents, neither of them could talk freely, although he could talk endlessly with Pod, who reminded Spiller in many ways of his own father. He did agree with her parents that Arrietty played too much and dreamed too much. He'd had to survive on his own since he was small and had never had a chance to play. Arrietty's games wasted time that he thought could be spent in more practical pursuits, and had put her into danger more times than he could stand.
He had softened a little toward all work and no play, though, as he'd gotten to know her. Riding the trains with her at Little Fordham hadn't put any food on the table but it had done him good. He'd enjoyed her company and got his own pleasure from just watching her delight at each new experience.
When they'd danced to even out the sand under the floor at Vine Cottage he'd been embarrassed at first but Arrietty had taken his hand and they'd begun to twirl, clumsily at first, then more smoothly, swinging and stamping, and in the end when it was all done he had to admit he'd had a glorious time. He always had a good time with Arrietty.
He had never minded lingering with her and Pod and Homily. Homily could be annoying the way she'd fawn over him one moment and be exasperated with him in the next, and she'd developed a strange habit of staring at him as if she didn't quite know what to do about him. He wasn't sure what it meant but he suspected it had to do with how he felt about Arrietty and how she felt about him. What Homily thought of him meant nothing compared to what Arrietty thought of him.
He liked being with her enough to change his routine quite a bit, just so he could be with her more often. He found excuses to stay, excuses to help, excuses not to visit his other friends and the other people he traded with. He'd rather be with Arrietty than anyone else, and even as he enjoyed every minute of that summer, the idea of it unnerved him a bit.
Now that she was gone he was back to his old routine, climbing all the drains he knew, scavenging at the gypsy camp, cooking his solitary meals in the flue behind his stove, but all the time he wished he could find out what had happened to Arrietty. He thought about it as he traveled downriver.
When he pulled up and started to moor his boat Spiller wondered if he was making a mistake. Burgonet and Arista would welcome him. He was sure of that. He often would stop in of an evening bringing along goods he'd picked up here and there but visiting wasn't much use anymore. Arista had been orphaned and trying to make her way to Little Fordham when she'd accidentally wound up near Ballyhoggin in Went-le-Cray instead. Spiller was glad Burgonet had come across Arista before the Platters, who owned the Ballyhoggin miniature village found her wandering about, but she did put a damper on the enjoyable companionship he and Burgonet had occasionally shared.
Arista was pretty enough, and was grateful to Spiller for the supplies he brought, complimenting him effusively on his daring and skill, but the adoring way she looked at Burgonet the rest of the time got on Spiller's nerves after awhile and he'd have to shove off. Now he knew why. He was looking for something that Burgonet had already found. He wanted someone to think he was special for just being who he was. Daubery thought he was special, but it was just for what he was. There was a big difference.
With a sigh and a shove of his hat pin he got ready to head back to Little Fordham. Before he got into the middle of the river, he looked backwards. He squinted at the bend of the river, to where it went around a curve and tears stung his eyes. He understood loss, but he got really tired of it at times.
When Spiller had woken up to see Pod standing in the doorway he had been very happy for a moment. Then he had felt a bit of anger. They had gone off and not told him where they were going and he didn't understand that.
When Pod had mentioned that they had been unable to get out of the attic they had found themselves in, and he had gotten the whole story of their kidnapping later that night, Spiller was mollified although he had wondered a bit if Arrietty had thought about him as much as he had thought about her those long winter months.
Apparently she had. Pod brought it up when he and Spiller had left the cottage for a walk after Arrietty had admitted she had befriended Miss Menzies. That had left Pod really shaken, Spiller less so. They continued to discuss the possible move to the mill for a bit and then Pod brought up Arrietty's fondness for humans and what that would mean as she got older, that is, old enough to have a family of her own. Spiller, although he agreed that having too much contact with humans was dangerous, was not so sure if Miss Menzies was the dangerous type.
He'd watched Miss Menzies himself and found her, like Mr. Pott, to have certain characteristics more common to borrowers than human beings. She was good at picking up any old thing and making something of it and didn't seem to care much for the company of other humans. She was quiet, gentle, and never made those quick and clumsy movements that human beings tended to make.
And as for Arrietty's talks with Tom Goodenough, well, Spiller had talked to him many a time himself. Very useful the boy had been over the years. Of course human beings tended to get more dangerous with age and Tom had left when he was getting to the tricky stage but when he came back to the groundskeeper's cottage Spiller was pretty sure he, like Lupy, would be glad to see him.
It wasn't, as Arrietty had mentioned, like he didn't know the borrowers were in the cottage anyway. Spiller had pointed this all out to Pod, and even reminded him of something that Arrietty had confided. Pod had gotten quite familiar with a human himself, if you counted Great-Aunt Sophy, which Pod was not inclined to do.
"Depends on how you look at it," Pod had said. "She didn't really believe. She thought I came out of the decanter. I do miss her at times, though. I wonder if she's still alive. I wish she could have seen Arrietty. That one time I took Homily she was ever so pleased. I think she would have liked Arrietty and if Arrietty had been able to go to Her bedroom with me she might have gotten this human hankering of hers out of the way."
"Maybe," Spiller said, even though he didn't think so.
That's when Pod had dropped the bombshell that brought it all together for Spiller and made up his mind to speak to Pod during their excursion to the mill. Pod had indicated without saying so directly, that should Spiller ever be interested in settling down Arrietty would be more than willing to do the settling with him. Not that Pod though his daughter was anywhere near ready to make a decision like that.
"You know, Spiller, Arrietty's quite fond of you. Quite fond…she's said so. I'm not going to be around forever you know and neither is Homily. Later on when we're gone Arrietty's going to need someone to take care of her and she's kind of gotten it into her head that your sort of life might suit, although Homily and I think it would be too hard a life for Arrietty. Have you ever thought about settling down a bit because she's already said she'd like to be the one settling down with you. I want you to know this so you can give it some thought. If you're not interested, don't lead her on. I don't want her hurt."
Spiller, who had just leaned over his boat to check his moorings, had looked up in surprise, his black eyes sharp. He hadn't until Arrietty had disappeared. The he'd begun to connect it all. How Arista and Burgonet were getting along had reminded him of how much he liked being around Arrietty.
"I wouldn't do that," he finally said, "and I will think on it."
Pod winced as they walked back to the house, wondering if he should have brought any of it up at all. He wondered if he was putting ideas into the boy's head that hadn't been there before, but as headstrong as Arrietty could be when she wanted something, he thought a word to the wise was the better course.
The fact that Arrietty had spoken to the Hendreary family fondly of him had helped Spiller decide. He'd already begun to sort out his feelings for Arrietty further after his talk with Eggletina and after he had left the Hendreary's home, he had gone to sleep thinking about some of the adventures he and Arrietty had had together.
She wasn't afraid at all when they'd gone down the drain, trusting him completely. He'd liked feeling important in her eyes. When he'd had to save them from Mild-eye, twice, he knew she must have been terrified but she'd kept her head. He also thought he understood now the way she thought. Her love of nature was a plus. He had enjoyed helping her with the garden although he knew on some level that the humans would notice it eventually, and when he'd taken her to learn to fish for minnows she had been a natural.
The chrysalis had been as big of a mistake as the cricket, but her longing for beauty in her life was something he had been unable to resist satisfying. They were lucky to have gotten it out of the house in time, but when it was out and flying away, Arrietty had stood with him watching it go and had reached out absently to take his hand, a spontaneous gesture that had felt very right to him, and besides, she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.
Old Daubery down Holmcraft way had five daughters, and had hinted to Spiller many a time that Spiller was getting to the age when he might want to think about a wife, but Spiller, while he thought that all of Daubery's girls were nice enough, had never had much of a connection with any of them except as girls he'd grown up with.
He didn't think much of Daubery as a possible father-on-law, either. Daubery was of the old school that women stayed at home and men borrowed. He was horrifically disappointed to have that many girls and was trying for a boy even though his wife wasn't in the best of health. Spiller thought that silly. The oldest girl, Hemiola, was about Arrietty's age and certainly capable of learning how to borrow. Spiller believed in doing what needed to be done and if you had to do it with a girl, so be it. But while he was firmly on her side, the way Spiller felt about Hemiola had been nothing compared to how he felt when he was with Arrietty.
Pod was right. At some point he'd want someone, and if Arrietty already thought that she wanted him she was the logical choice, but this had to be handled delicately, especially since neither of them was ready to make that sort of commitment. What she thought now might not be what she would think later. She was still very young. Establishing that such a thing was possible, though, would go a long way to making both he and Arrietty happier. Spiller was pretty sure of that. He'd have to talk to Arrietty at some point and set some ground rules for their relationship.
He hadn't been able to see her face when they went back to the cottage and Pod had delicately hinted to Arrietty about the direction her life was going, and why she must not talk to humans, and for that he was glad. Pod handled it well and Arrietty had gotten the point without Pod having to say too much.
Talking about a home of her own and settling down to have a family of her own had done the trick. Spiller knew then that their lives tended that way now but he'd have to give some more thought as to what his feelings for her really meant and what kind of timeline they were talking about. The idea was as terrifying in a lot of ways as it was appealing, especially to a young borrower like himself used to living just as he pleased and doing what he wished, whenever he liked.
But Spiller had not been able to stand her tears when Pod had made her promise under the electric light never to talk to any humans. Knowing he would be perfectly safe doing so he had agreed to go speak to Miss Menzies. He had his own reasons for that. Miss Menzies, besides being the soul of propriety, might come in very handy someday when Spiller needed something specific that was hard to get.
But first he had to get the family moved into the mill. Having escaped captivity and returned to Little Fordham, Pod was determined to clear off as soon as possible. High living was a blessing at times but it could also be a curse. The old mill Spiller had described to him seemed like a much safer spot for the family. So with the help of Spiller they made their plans.
Spiller and Pod had wanted to go see the old mill the next day but they'd all overslept. It was too late in the morning to set off when they finally awoke. Pod, Homily and Arrietty had been exhausted, and Spiller had been too comfortable.
Arrietty had slipped down after her parents went to try out their new bed and brought him the quilt Miss Menzies had made for her bed. He's been lying on the hearth rug, looking at the dying fire when Arrietty had appeared with it.
"Take this, Spiller," Arrietty had said softly.
"Don't need it. Keep it," he'd answered, more gruffly than he'd intended.
"I want you to have it," Arrietty insisted. "I want to do something for you after all you've done for us."
He grinned then. "It's only human, Lupy would say."
Arrietty smiled, and wrapping the quilt gently around his shoulders had silently slipped back upstairs, leaving Spiller to fall into the first deep, dreamless, untroubled sleep he'd had in many a month.
When she came down in the morning Homily saw it but decided it best to say nothing. She'd just brushed back his dark hair gently, and when his eyes had popped open, startled, she'd said, "Spiller, my boy, the morning's getting away. We've got to feed the fire. It's too late for breakfast. Might call it brunch, I suppose."
Spiller had gotten up and hastily folded the quilt. When Arrietty came downstairs he handed it to her and she almost took his breath away she looked so pretty. She was wearing the dress Mabel had ordered for her, with a clean white pinafore, and had her hair brushed out. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were clear. She was happy and it showed. She took it back upstairs as Spiller decided to nip out the back door. Going for some more wood was what he said to Homily but he really needed to have a look around. He'd heard a noise as Homily had begun to bang her pots, and wasn't sure what it was.
He went carefully toward Mr. Pott's house. What he had heard was a motorcar pulling up to the front door, and the sound of human children, a lot of them. He slipped up to the back door and positioned himself alongside it where he could hear everything but still be able to duck for cover if need be. It was a few days before the model railroad usually opened. Abel Pott and Miss Menzies had been working for at least a week to tidy up after the winter. Spiller had watched them while he'd stayed at the cottage but they usually didn't take visitors in until April 1st. This was odd.
A young man had come to visit Mr. Pott with his wife and children. Apparently his father had worked on the railroad with Mr. Pott and this man's family remembered him kindly. Mr. Pott bustled around as best as he could on his wooden leg, making them tea, as the older children, looking like stair steps in size, played with some barbola figures on the floor. The young woman held a baby about six to eight months old, as far as Spiller could judge, and children were something he could definitely judge. Looking at this family brought back a lot of memories of days gone by.
"You must meet my Margaret," Abel Pott told them. "Once she gets here we'll finish our tea and biscuits and then we can go out and I'll let you have a look at the railroad. You'll like the station, I wager. It looks just as the station did when your Pa worked there."
My Margaret, thought Spiller. That sounded serious. Arrietty would be so pleased. He backed away from the house and walked back to Vine Cottage, picking up twigs on the way. He had a whole armful when he got to the back door and he had to kick it with his foot to get someone to come and open it for him.
Pod appeared and let him in. "Spiller! We were getting worried about you, son. Didn't think you'd be gone so long, Homily didn't." He paused and looked a bit pained. "She made omelets with your sparrow's eggs. Hope you don't mind. They're good omelets, with a bit of that cheese in them, and fried up just right."
"That's fine," Spiller answered over the twigs, which he dumped next to the hearth. "I got news. Tell you while we eat." Between mouthfuls, he explained in terse sentences about Mr. Pott's visitors.
"Oh, my," Homily said. "We won't be able to do anything today with all of those children running about. If they're friends of his then they'll probably stay a long time and that Mr. Pott will probably let them run around loose while he explains every blasted railroad tie to the parents."
"That's all right," said Pod. "I want to get out of here before that other lot figure out a way to get over the fence and come looking for us but that will take awhile. They're probably just trying to figure out now where we've gone to."
"They'll probably turn the whole attic upside down looking for us," Homily said. "Even if they think we went out the window they won't have any idea of how we got off the roof."
"That's so," said Pod. "It will take them at least a few days to sort it out. Spiller and I can go to the mill tomorrow, if that's all right." He shot Spiller a quick glance. He never liked to order Spiller about. He had too much respect for Spiller's many talents and was too grateful for all that Spiller had done for them to be high handed with him.
When Spiller nodded, Pod continued. "We've got things to sort through anyway. Homily wants to wash and mend some of the clothes and now that we have a tap she don't have to go outside for that." He shot Spiller an apprehensive look. "I've been thinking about it and I'm not sure making another balloon is a good idea. We were lucky to have pulled it off once and the fact that we got where we intended to go was all due to good luck and the fact that Arrietty was able to read the instructions so clearly. Not sure if we could do that again."
"I see your point," Spiller said. "Always the chance someone will look up, too."
"But they wouldn't be able to reach you," Homily argued. The idea of the balloon had frightened her more than she could stand but once she'd gotten up in it she had been both pleased and proud.
"One boy with a slingshot," Spiller pointed out, "you'd be done. You also hit that fence without meaning to. Wind's an unpredictable thing." He took a big bite of omelet, chewed slowly, swallowed and then glanced over at Arrietty. "They'll be visiting at the house for awhile but when they're done I'm sure Pott will blow the whistle like he always does. Fancy a ride in the train for old time's sake?" He really wanted a chance to talk to her alone.
"Oh, I don't know about that!" Homily exclaimed.
"Perfectly safe," said Spiller firmly. "Those humans won't notice. Just sit in the car with the false ones like we used to. If you're moving on it will be a nice way for Arrietty to remember the trains."
Pod and Homily finally agreed, and Spiller and Arrietty slipped out and went silently to the station, with Spiller carefully looking in every direction, the way he usually did. They climbed onto one of the passenger cars and settled into a seat next to each other to wait. Arrietty, looking down at her hands, finally spoke.
"Is it my last ride on the train?" She sounded accusing. "You and Papa told me that I could come back here sometimes but I wasn't sure if Papa meant it. I thought I could trust you."
"You can trust me," he said, his black eyes flashing. "I'll never make you a promise I don't think I can keep." He sighed, however. "Your parents I'm not sure of. They like it indoors. I think when they get to the mill they intend to stay in. They're like Lupy that way. Once she went in the wall she never came out and I reckon she never will. Hendreary and the boys, they come out when they have to, but it's not their nature. Me, I like the outdoors. Mind you," he said hastily, "indoors has a place but it's not something I could do all the time."
Arrietty shyly reached out and squeezed his hand. "I couldn't either. I was starting to feel like Lupy's place was a prison. I even liked the boot better than that, as much as I liked seeing the cousins. Of course we'd never have made it through the winter in that boot but in the summer I was happy there."
Spiller squeezed back. "Have to show you the tunnel behind the stove sometime. Think you'd like my stove." He looked out the window then. "Remember when we first came here?"
"Oh, yes, it was so beautiful in the moonlight. We had so much to carry, not that I minded," she added hastily. "It was splendid of you to give so much gear to get us started. I loved it when you took me around the village."
"That beetle in the station scared you," Spiller said with a laugh, remembering that great black beetle.
"It just started me," said Arrietty. "I'm not scared of them, but I wasn't expecting that one. Mother loved it when we looked at all of the houses closest to the water. Papa was right to tell her to stay on the water side. Mind you, I love the way the shops are set up. Miss Menzies did a wonderful job, but it's just not practical to be on that side of the village. One has to be practical sometimes."
"Yes," Spiller agreed. "That Miss Menzies and Mr. Pott are getting along so well, wouldn't surprise me if they decided to finish their lives together."
"You don't mean it!" Arrietty exclaimed.
"I do. Calls her 'dear Margaret' now, and goes to her house for dinner of an evening now and then. They go shopping in the village together and do have a lot in common after all."
"Oh, that would be ever so lovely," Arrietty said with feeling. "His wife died only a few years after they married, you know, and Miss Menzies was just devastated when she lost her dear Aubrey."
Just then they heard voices, Mr. Pott's, Miss Menzies, the young couple and the excited squeals of the children. The whistle sounded and the train began to move. They stayed as still as could be until the passenger train made a familiar jolt and left the station.
"Remember when I first saw you," Spiller told Arrietty, "carrying corn back from the field. Looked right plucky, you did. I thought you were pretty."
"I remember when I first saw you," Arrietty laughed, "or at least your hand. You startled me as much as that beetle did. When we fell off the branch I didn't know what to think. I was so angry but at the same time I liked the way you looked, too. Your eyes are so black and you have the loveliest smile."
"Then we went up to the boot and your mother told me to go away, that she never wanted to see me again," Spiller laughed.
Arrietty looked embarrassed. "She didn't mean it. She just had a horrible fear of borrowers that lived outdoors. It didn't seem natural to her and you really were very dirty, you know. House borrowers aren't used to dirt, and she'd spent her whole life under the floor. I told her she was rude. My father wanted to meet you, though."
"I remember when he did, when I handed him that hat pin, after I'd sent you down the river on the soap box. I was so angry with you, Arrietty, for playing with those frogs and not paying enough attention to hear the gypsies coming. That dog was so close."
"He could have gotten at you, as well. I had just never seen frogs until we came out from under the floor. Everything was new to me, but you saved my life, Spiller. Then my mother adored you once she knew that. And when you gave her meat! That made you wonderful to her."
"For awhile," said Spiller. He looked out the window again. They were passing the church. Arrietty saw it, too, and colored.
"I'm sorry you had to listen to all of that last night. All that talk about how I should behave when I get a family of my own and my own home. That must have been so embarrassing for you."
"Why?" was all Spiller could think to say, still staring out the window.
"It's my entire fault," Arrietty said suddenly, burying her face in her hands. "I started it. The way I feel about you is what's making them think that way. I've been so stupid but I couldn't help it. You have saved my life, over and over, and I was so grateful, and you seemed as lonely as I was at times. Lupy called you solitary, and I remember thinking that's what I must be. I was already missing the out of doors. I love riding these trains with you. Mother was always too afraid to try. She's still afraid of them, I think, but it never bothered me, because I was with you. I always felt safe with you, whether we were riding the trains or working in the garden or fishing. I loved every minute of it. I missed you so much, Spiller."
"Missed you, too," he said, looking back at her."While you were gone I thought about you a lot. Didn't understand why you would leave me without a word."
"I wouldn't have," Arrietty said passionately. "The hardest thing was my knowing that you didn't have any idea of what had happened. Whenever we were in trouble before we could count on you to come along and save us, but in the attic we couldn't. We had to come up with something on our own. I thought about you a lot when we were working on the balloon. You would have loved it. I wanted you to see it, and be proud of us for finally figuring a way out on our own, but then it broke and I was so disappointed and upset."
Spiller laughed. "That why you were in such a mood when I found you on the fence? I thought perhaps you weren't glad to see me again after all."
"Did you?" Arrietty looked into his black eyes, and in spite of his laugh saw a bit of pain there. "I was gladder to see you than I want you to know, gladder than you should know. You'll probably be very angry with me when you do."
"What does that mean?" Spiller asked, puzzled.
Arrietty took a deep breath. "That's what I mean about all that talk being my fault. I need to confess. You need to know the truth about all of that. The fact is…I told my mother…that I…that I wished I could marry you when I grow up."
Her face flamed, and as Spiller began to laugh again she got angry. "I know it was a stupid thing to say but you don't have to laugh at me like that!"
"Not laughing for that," he said finally, catching his breath. "I'm laughing because you made it sound so serious and secret when it's something that I already knew, and I did already know it. Your father told me last night before he made that big speech. I knew he was saying it for my benefit as well as yours and I'm not angry, Arrietty. I'm sort of, well, flattered, I guess."
Arrietty looked at him wide eyed. "You knew? You knew the whole time? And you let me go on with it like that?"
"Very entertaining it was," he admitted, "and since I wasn't angry about it, what else could I do?"
"Oh, Spiller," Arrietty exclaimed, hitting the seat in front of her with frustration. "You can be so exasperating! Sometimes I don't know whether to kick you or kiss you!"
At that, he looked right into her eyes, his own eyes flashing with amusement. "Well, if I had my choice, I'd rather you kiss me. It would be a whole lot easier."
It didn't seem like it would be to Arrietty at all, but having put it out there she felt like she had to carry on. So she leaned in very slowly, her cheeks pink with embarrassment, and pressed her lips to his.
He slowly raised his arm and brought it around her shoulders when she went to pull back and then he kissed her back, drawing her a lot closer. His kiss was much longer and the way he was holding her felt wonderful.
Arrietty wanted this kiss to go on and on, but eventually he moved his mouth away, just long enough to draw a deep breath, and then kissed her again and she liked it even better. His cheek against hers was rough but warm. They kissed over and over, all the way from the shops and back toward the station. When they were almost there they finally stopped kissing and stared at each other for a long moment.
"That was nice," Arrietty finally said, smoothing back her hair. "I've never kissed anyone like that and I always wondered what that kind of kissing was like."
"It is nice, kissing is," Spiller admitted.
Arrietty thought of something then that had never crossed her mind before, not concerning Spiller. She asked him a single question then, fearing what she might hear. "Has any other girl ever kissed you? Or you them?"
His eyes wavered, but only for a moment. "Just once."
Arrietty's back stiffened. "Who was it?"
Spiller sighed. "I have a friend down the river that I trade with, old Daubery. He has five daughters. He's been trying to fix me up with the oldest one for awhile. He's been telling me he thinks we would suit and he's been telling her. She kissed me once, probably to see what it was like too, but it's not the same with her as it is with you and that's the truth. I lived with them for awhile when I was first working the river, and honestly, Arrietty, I don't think of Hemiola that way. I never did and I never will. She's like a sister to me."
Arrietty wasn't mollified by that. "When I told my mother I wanted to marry you, she said we were more like brother and sister!"
"That's Homily for you," Spiller sighed. "Arrietty, don't you see? Your mother really doesn't want my kind of life for you. She'd be a lot happier if you had a good house borrower and stayed indoors."
"I do know," said Arrietty fiercely, "but that's not what I want."
"Well, we don't have to decide now. What are you, seventeen?"
"Almost. I turn seventeen in June."
"Thought so. Think I'll be turning nineteen in the fall. That's not old, you know. We have time to think about it and decide what we want to do."
"You think you'll change your mind?" Arrietty asked in a small voice as the train came to a stop in the station, and Mr. Pott shut everything down, much to the dismay of the clamoring human children, who didn't want to leave Mr. Pott and Miss Menzies and go home.
"No, but a lot can happen between now and the time we're ready for that. I am dirty most of the time, you know," he said lightly. "You might change yours."
"I don't think so," said Arrietty. "I like some kinds of dirt, just as I like grass and trees and the river." She kissed him again, putting all of her meager experience into it.
When the kiss ended, the humans were gone and it was quiet on the path so they got out of the train. As Spiller helped Arrietty out, he said wryly, "Don't think your father would approve at all of what we've been doing."
"We don't have to tell him," said Arrietty, as they started back to Vine Cottage. On the way they found a cardigan, pale blue, of the finest, softest yarn either of them had ever seen. "This belonged to the baby," Arrietty said gently. "Isn't it wonderful? What Mother couldn't do with yarn like this!"
"Let's take it, then," Spiller said. He looked toward Mr. Pott's house. "They haven't missed it. If they had they'd have come back for it by now and it's a warm day. That baby isn't likely to take a chill without it."
So they did and when they got it back to the cottage Homily was enraptured by it. She wanted to start unraveling it then and there, and putting the yarn into skeins. "If I could just get a couple of those pins with the big round heads," she said, "I could knit us all blue socks and jumpers." She ran her hand over a sleeve and nodded, "This would make lovely blankets, too, if I just had something to bind the edges with."
"We have quilts on all the beds now," Arrietty pointed out. "What do we need more blankets for?"
"Everything that's here needs to stay here," said Pod. "We don't want them to know we've been here if they ever check and besides, if we ever come back to visit, or Spiller does, we might need these things."
"Got a white handkerchief in the store room," Spiller said. "Would that do for binding? You could cut it up. I'm sure Miss Menzies has lots of pins. She sews. I can get some from her. I have to go see her anyway. I promised Arietty I would, since she made that promise not to talk to any more human beings."
"Oh, dear, Spiller," do you think you should?" Homily wailed, and he nodded tersely.
"It's all right, Homily, really. I know what I can do and what I can't and I'm not afraid of that Miss. I'll get you pins and a new needle and thread. You can sew and knit to your heart's content while I take Pod to see the mill. You'll be safer here if I do. She can keep an eye out for that lot on the other side of the river until we're ready to shove off. After I get the handkerchief, I'm going to go watch for this Miss to leave Pott's place. I'll be back by dinner time."
When he got up from the table, Homily threw her arms around him. "You brave, brave boy!"
Arrietty rolled her eyes, "Miss Menzies is not going to eat him, Mother. She's nice. He'll see." She went to Spiller and hugged him, too, a hug he enjoyed more than Homily's. "You'll tell her everything? Everything you can?"
"Everything I can," Spiller promised, looking into her eyes. He wanted desperately to kiss her again but he decided that they'd had enough kissing for one day and it was no use upsetting Homily any more. He winked instead.