The Hidden World

Chapter 3

She'd been thinking of Princess Gwenlian in Grandma's book, and of her feelings for Prince Diarmait (with whom Maeve herself had always secretly been in love). Longing, joy, fear—somehow the strange mix of emotions had come easily. Beyond it, she had been dimly aware of the spreading silence in the audience; the incredulous stares of Lisa and company; the exchange of glances between the teachers; the way Mrs. Marshall sat bolt upright, the eyes behind her spectacles following Maeve's every gesture. Triumph had swelled up inside Maeve. I've done it, I've done it, she had thought when she left the stage. I've got the part!

Now she stared listlessly out of the car window, watching the forests flow past and remembering Mrs. Marshall avoiding her eye; and the smug smiles of Ashley's friends; and the casting notice on the bulletin board, which she had stared at disbelievingly for an entire minute while the school bell jangled in the distance.

Another memory to bury. There were so many of them.

It was mid-afternoon when they returned to the house. The sky was heavy and looked as though it was considering a downpour. All the same, Maeve decided to go for a walk before dinner. Throwing on her cardigan, she thrust her hands absently in the pockets and gave a little yelp of pain and surprise as something sharp jabbed her right thumb. Of course—the brooch! She'd completely forgotten about it. Carefully she took it out, this time avoiding the end of the pin, and set it down on the bureau. Sucking her thumb, she grabbed her raincoat and ran downstairs.

She wanted to go to her special clearing again—though of course it won't be the same, she admitted to herself. It'll just seem ordinary this time, with the overcast sky and no feeling of surprise to make it magical. Still, anticipation filled her as she hunted through the trees. She wished she'd paid more attention to her surroundings that first time she'd found it, but it had taken only about ten minutes to come across the place. It couldn't be that far away.

Yet fifteen minutes later, she still hadn't found it.

She looked about her, tired and frustrated. Only small evergreens stood around her, no tall birches like the ones that had surrounded the clearing. She altered her course slightly. There, that felt right. There were one or two things that looked familiar: a stump, a mossy glacial boulder surrounded by bushes.

Suddenly the trees thinned, but they did not give way to a clearing. Instead, she found herself looking .at the white wooden church she had seen the day before, with a few clapboard houses beyond.

Funny. She must have got mixed up, taken a wrong turn somewhere. Her sense of direction had always been terrible, as Brandon had often pointed out to her. She turned around and made her way slowly back. There, that was the house's roof, rising out of the trees. She reoriented herself and set out again, taking a more westward course. She tried using the hill to get her bearings, but she could not see the low, crumbling wall of stone that she had noticed the other day. Perhaps it was over on the northward side of the hill? She set off through the woods.

But this time, when the trees came to an end, she found herself looking out on part of the paved main road that led to the outport. Where on earth was her little clearing? How had she stumbled onto it so quickly the first time? As she stood there puzzling, there was a soft pattering sound in the forest all around her and a light rain began to fall.

She gave up and went back to the house, feeling unaccountably cheated and frustrated.

Back in her guest room, she glanced at the bookshelf that had been Grandma's: some old paperback novels, a dictionary, a few children's books. They looked as though they must have been here since Grandma's day. All had dust along their tops, so long had it been since anyone took them from the shelf. There must be something here for her to read to while away the rest of this rainy day.