Page 26 of A Rare Find

8

“It’s your turn.” Rosalie jammed a ball hard into Georgie’s abdomen, which made them double over and drop their quizzing glass. “You dragged us up here for bowls, the least you can do is pretend to play.”

Georgie cradled the ball in the crook of one arm and fumbled for the quizzing glass, now dangling from its chain. They lifted it again to their eye. Elf came into focus. She was circling something in a distant field; what they couldn’t tell.

“The grass is too long,” complained Anne. “And there are too many rocks. When did your family last use this as a bowling green?”

“Never,” guessed Rosalie. “Georgie fibbed. Nothing about this spot is suitable for lawn sport. It’s the sort of place where sheep get stranded in a storm. There are literal ledges.”

“There’s quite a view, though,” said Anne, reflectively. “You can see for miles.”

Georgie lowered the quizzing glass and looked at their friends. Anne and Rosalie were physical opposites, but at that moment, they exhibited the same ratio of tiny smirk to overlarge bonnet and resembled each other.

“Yes, quite a view,” murmured Rosalie. “Of the park, the farms, the woodlands, the outlying hills.” She tapped a finger against her lips, miming thought. “What else?”

“Who else.” Anne giggled.

“Stop,” Georgie warned them.

“Give me your quizzer.” Rosalie beckoned. “I know she’s down there.”

Georgie fumbled for a better grip on the ball, took a step, and tossed it, without bothering to aim for the jack, which anyway wasn’t immediately evident, given its diminutive size and the general overgrown wildness of the terrain. Rosalie was right that the narrow plateau at the southeast corner of the estate didn’t lend itself to lawn sport.

The ball bounced once and came to rest in the bracken.

“Your turn,” they said, turning to Anne.

“She is like us, you know,” said Anne, not for the first time that week. “I can tell about these things.”

“Can you now?” Georgie tried to sound indifferent.

“In the garden, she was shocked,” continued Anne, glancing at Rosalie, who blushed scarlet. “But it was the shock you feel when the world suddenly makes more sense, not less. I recognized it.”

Georgie opened their mouth, then closed it again, choosing instead to lift the quizzing glass. Green jumped toward them. Grass. Tree. Tree. Cow. There. Elf. She was climbing a low stone wall.

“She’s not like me,” they announced, rather too grandly. “I don’t break my word.”

“You swore you’d tattoo my name on your ankle,” Anne reminded them, “if I brought you the whole Wiltshire cheese at that garden party.”

“I received no whole Wiltshire cheese.”

“You received and ate the Wiltshire cheese,” said Rosalie. “It was after you rolled around in the tulips with that moppy-looking terrier and before you jumped in the fountain.”

“Hmm,” said Georgie. “I don’t break my word sober.” They followed Elf with the glass as she cut across a pasture.

“Your engagement?”

“That was a very special case.”

The long silence felt like an indictment.

“Fine, we’ll tattoo my ankle tonight.” They swung around, and Anne’s face filled their field of vision. “The fact remains that I am allowing Elf to traipse around my property, in exchange for a bit of fun. Yet four funless days have passed!”

“Funless,” murmured Anne.

“Funless,” repeated Georgie, in an ominous voice. Anne took a hint and sealed her rosy lips.

“Oh, look at you. You’re having plenty of fun spying.”