Midsummer's Night Murder

11

Daisy and I crept along the landing and downstairs. My mind was racing with excuses we could use if anyone found us sneaking about after we had said we would go to bed. We found the kitchen door left slightly ajar, so we held our breath, and peeped through, listening.

We saw Nancy stood leaning against the wall in the corner, right behind the door. I let out a soft gasp - she had been so quiet, I hadn't even noticed her. But she noticed my gasp, even though it was practically inaudible. Daisy grabbed my collar and pulled me behind a stand with an expensive looking vase on top. Nancy swung her head around the door, her eyes darting suspiciously. Daisy and I exchanged wide-eyed looks. Nancy slunk back behind the door, closing it behind her.

I tapped out the word 'sorry' on Daisy's hand in morse code. She rolled her eyes, but nodded, to show that I was forgiven.

"Finally.... all done...." we just about heard Francis mutter. "Oh! It's you. Hello Nancy."

"Could you see me in your room please, darling? Now?" She said, sweetly.

His room? I assumed they'd share a room. Perhaps not. Though her voice suggested otherwise, this seemed rather odd, and somewhat suspicious. An exited tingle skittered down my spine.

Instantaneously, the door opened, and Nancy marched out, followed by her boyfriend. Daisy and I recoiled in alarm, and scrambled through into the dining room. We sat on the floor, staring at each other with a mixture of alarm, confusion and excitement our eyes. As soon as we heard their footfall move upstairs, we surged into action.

I kept watch while Daisy prised open the large window.

"Come on, Hazel!" She hissed.

"Coming!"

The window sill was about 4 and a 1/2 feet high, yet Daisy clambered effortlessly onto it. She hauled me up, and then stood up and swung her head out of the window.

"Daisy, be careful!"

"I am careful!"

She sat back on the window sill.

"You first." She said.

"No! Why?"

"Because you'll need a knee-up."

Nothing that included having a knee-up could be within close range of my comfort zone.

I braced myself and stood up, my legs trembling. I looked out and up. A little way above me was the bottom of a tiny balcony.

"No." I breathed.

"Yes. You can do it! I'll give you a knee-up, and you grab onto the bars and swing yourself up."

"Daisy! I really can't do that - how agile do you think I am?! I'm not you!"

She ignored me.

"3...2...1..."

I bent my leg and she pushed it upwards. My other foot left the ground. I squealed, and my sweating hands groped for the decorative iron bars that walled the balcony.

"Daisy help!! I can't do it, Daisy! I'm stuck!" I squeaked.

"Nonsense! Just pull yourself up with your arms, and you should find some footholds in the wal-"

"Daisy! I'm hanging by my arms from a balcony!"

"In that case you are following this plan perfectly! Do what I said: pull yourself up, and find some footholds."

She sounded utterly calm and certain.

I dragged myself up with the little remaining I had left in my tremoring arms. My feet scraped the walls, searching desperately for footholds.

I found one.

For one heart-stopping moment, I lost it, slipping and struggling, I let out a strangled yelp.

"Hazel?!"

"I'm... I'm alright!" I said, reassuring myself as much as Daisy.

"Good. Chop chop then!"

"I'm trying!" I groaned.

I shuffled my slippered feet up the wall until my body was in a horizontal position.

"What now?"

"You know the plan."

I sighed and moved my hands up the bars, one small movement in one hand a time. I could feel my weak caw muscles clenching, and my arms getting weaker by the second: I had to move fast, or I would fall.

I drew in a deep breath, and pushed off the wall. Holding on for dear life with my, tired, sweating, blistered fingers, my knee hit the edge of the concrete balcony considerably harder than I had intended it to. The fabric of my pyjama trousers ripped and blood oozed from a newly-opened scrape. This was the last thing I needed: the sight of blood. Tears blurred my vision as I tried my best to ignore the persisting sting on my knee.

"Ouch!" I winced.

"Come on, Watson!"

"You are not helping!"

I pushed my knee further up the balcony's edge, and dragged my other quivering leg up, and placed a foot next to my bleeding knee.

I lifted my weak, shaking body into a standing position, and practically fell over the iron bars onto the balcony. I lay there, wallowing in the utter bliss that was solid ground.

"I'm here! I'm alive! I did it, Daisy!"

"Shhh! Well done, but keep your voice down!"

"Sorry." I replied in a stage whisper.

"It's alright. I'm coming up!"

And she did. Almost immediately. Re-enacting exactly what I did (minus the blood, tears, and screaming) but about 15 times faster. She soon appeared next to me, brushing herself down like it was nothing.

"Hello! What have you done to your knee? Oh, it's just a graze! You'll be fine. Come along!"

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