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'When is sunset?' I asked.
'Right now it's about seven-thirty,' he said. 'So we must arrive at seven-fifteen exactly. It's an hour and a half's walk to the wood so we must leave here at a quarter to six.'
'Then we'd better finish those raisins,' I said. 'We've still got more than sixty to do.'
We finished the raisins with about two hours to spare. They lay in a pile on a white plate in the middle of the table. 'Don't they look marvellous?' my father said, rubbing his hands together hard. 'Those pheasants are going to absolutely love them.'
After that, we messed round in the workshop until half-past five. Then my father said, 'That's it! It's time to get ready! We leave in fifteen minutes!'
As we walked towards the caravan, a station-wagon pulled up to the pumps with a woman at the wheel and about eight children in the back all eating ice-creams.
'Oh, I know you're closed,' the woman called out through her window. 'But couldn't you please let me have a few gallons? I'm just about empty' She was a good-looking woman with dark hair.
'Give it to her,' my father said. 'But be quick.'
I fetched the key from the office and unlocked one of the pumps. I filled up her tank and took the money and gave her the change. 'You don't usually close as early as this,' she said.
'We have to go out,' I told her, hopping from one foot to the other. 'I have to go somewhere with my father.'
'You look jumpy as a jack-rabbit,' she said. 'Is it the dentist?'
'No, ma'am,' I said. 'It's not the dentist. But please excuse me. I have to go now.'
14
Into the Wood
My father came out of the caravan wearing the old navy-blue sweater and the brown cloth-cap with the peak pulled down low over his eyes.
'What's under there, Dad?' I asked, seeing the bulge at his waistline.
He pulled up his sweater and showed me two thin but very large white cotton sacks. They were bound neat and tidy round his belly. 'To carry the stuff,' he said darkly.
'Ah-ha.'
'Go and put on your sweater,' he said. 'It's brown, isn't it?'
'Yes,' I said.
'That'll do. But take off those white sneakers and wear your black shoes instead.'
I went into the caravan and changed my shoes and put on my sweater. When I came out again, my father was standing by the pumps squinting anxiously up at the sun which was now only the width of a man's hand above the line of trees along the crest of the ridge on the far side of the valley.
'I'm ready, Dad.'
'Good boy. Off we go!'
'Have you got the raisins?' I asked.
'In here,' he said, tapping his trouser pocket where yet another bulge was showing. 'I've put them all in one bag.'
It was a calm sunny evening with little wisps of brilliant white cloud hanging motionless in the sky, and the valley was cool and very quiet as the two of us began walking together along the road that ran between the hills towards Wendover. The iron thing underneath my father's foot made a noise like a hammer striking a nail each time it hit the road.
'This is it, Danny. We're on our way now,' he said. 'By golly, I wish my old dad were coming with us on this one. He'd have given his right teeth to be here at this moment.'
'Mum, too,' I said.
'Ah, yes,' he said, giving a little sigh. 'Your mother would have loved this one.'
