Chapter 3

Kim Jonghyun

Sitting in the woods outside Farnham, Minho could see the ground fall away from him towards a dirt track that s away through the underbrush, like a dry riverbed, until it vanished from sight. Over on the other side of the town, on the slope of a hill, a small castle nestled in the trees. There was nobody else around. He had been sitting so still for so long that the animals had grown used to him. Every so often there would be a rustling in the long grass as a mouse or a vole moved past, while hawks circled lazily in the blue sky above, waiting for any animals stupid enough to emerge into an area of clear ground.

The wind rustled the leaves of the trees behind him. He let his mind wander, trying not to think about the past or the future, just living in the moment for as long as he could. The past ached like a bruise, and the immediate future was not something that he wanted to arrive in a hurry. The only way to keep going was not to think about it, just drift on the breeze and let the animals move around him.

He had been living at Lee Manor for three days now, and things had not gone any better than his first experience. The worst thing was Mrs Eglantine. The housekeeper was an ever-present spectre lurking in the deep recesses of the houses. Whenever he turned round he seemed to find her there, standing in the shadows, watching him with her crinkled-up eyes. She had barely exchanged three sentences with him since he had arrived. He was, as far as he could tell, expected to turn up for breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea and dinner, say nothing, eat as quietly as possible and then vanish until the next meal; and that was going to be the shape of his life until the holidays were over and Jinki came to release him from his sentence.

Lee Donghae and Hyukjae – his uncles – were usually present at breakfast and dinner. Donghae was a good looking man, he had to admit.  The man was at an average height and dressed in very formal clothing. Between meals, he vanished into his study or to the library.

Hyukjae, or as he ask Minho to call him, Eunhyuk, is a thin, slightly pale man. Eunhyuk is usually quiet but he can talk once you start a conversation with him. The both of Minho’s uncles are treating him fine but what Minho found weird is that Donghae and Eunhyuk share the same bedroom even though there are tons of empty rooms in the Manor. Minho, being the curious frog he was, spied on his uncles once. He saw two of his uncles snuggling with other under a furry blanket on the couch. Donghae whispered something (which Minho presumed it was lovey-dovey stuff) into Eunhyuk’s ear, causing the other to giggle. After that incident, he never want to investigate about his uncles further.

The food, at least, was passable – better than the meals at Deepdene School. Mostly it was vegetables – carrots, potatoes and cauliflower that he guessed had been grown in the ground of the Manor House – but every meal had some kind of meat, and unlike the grey, gristly and usually unidentifiable stuff that he had been used to at school this was well flavoured and tasty: ham hocks, chicken thighs (which was Jinki’s favourite), fillets of what he had been told was salmon and, on one lamb that had been placed in the centre of the table. If he wasn’t careful he would put on weight until he looked like his fat cousin.

His room was up in the eaves of the house, not quite in the servants’ quarter but not down with the family either. The ceiling sloped from the door to window to match the roof above, meaning that he had to stoop while moving around, while the floor was plain wooden boards covered with a rug of dubious vintage.

Despite his brother’s advice, he had been unable to get into the library and settle down with a book. Lee Donghae and Eunhyuk spent most of their time in there and Minho was scared of disturbing god-knows-what they do in there. Instead he had taken wandering in ever-increasing cicrles around the house, starting with the grounds at the front and back, the walled garden, the chicken coop abd the vegetable plot, then climbing the stoned walls that surrounded the house. He had been used to walking; exploring the forests back home, either alone or with his sister, but the woods here seemed older and more mysterious than the ones he was used to.

“So… How long are you going to sit like a rock?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Minho responded to the voice behind him. “You’ve been watching me for half an hour.”

“How did you know?” Minho heard a soft thud, as if someone had just jumped down from the lower branches of a tree on to the ferns that covered the ground.

“There are birds perching in all the trees except for one – the tree you’re sitting in. They’re obviously frightened of you.”

“I won’t hurt them, just like I won’t hurt you.”

Minho turned his head slowly. The voice belonged to a boy of about his own age, only smaller and stockier than Minho’s frame. The boy had good features even though they were covered with dirt.

“I’m not sure you could,” he said calmly as possible under the circumstances.

“I can fight dirty,” the boy said confidently. “And I’ve got a knife.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been watching boxing matches at school, and I’ve got a long reach.” Minho eyed the boy critically. His clothes were dusty, made of rough cloth and patched places, and his face, hands and fingernails were dirty.

“School?” the boy asked. “They teach boxing at school?”

“They do at my school. They say it toughens us up.”

The boy sat himself down beside Minho. “It’s life that toughens you up,” he muttered, the added: “My name is Jonghyun. Kim Jonghyun. You live up at the house down the road, don’t you?”

Minho nodded. “Just moved in for the summer. With my uncles. My name’s Minho – Choi Minho.”

Jonghyun glanced critically at Minho. “Are you always this tall?”

“What, my height?” Minho thought for a moment. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Are your family members this tall to?”

Minho shrugged. “Some, I guess.”

“Your dad?”

Minho frowned. “Tall.”

“And your uncles, the one you’re staying with?”

“Er… average?”

“Got any brothers?”

“Yes, one.”

“How tall is he?”

“About 168?”

Jonghyun shook his head. “Your family is like a pack of giraffes.”

“You know, you can just say that you hate being short.” Minho stated.

“You look like a frog.”

Minho winced, and looked away. “So, do you live around here?”

Jonghyun glanced at him for a moment, then seemed to accept the fact that Minho wanted to change the subject. “Yeah,” he said, “for the moment. I’m kind of travelling.”

Minho’s interest perked up. “Travelling? You mean you’re a Gypsy? Or you’re with a circus?”

Jonghyun glared at the other. Normally he would punch people who but looking at Minho’s expression, he knew that the younger is just asking him an innocent question.

“I’m not and I don’t belong to a circus, either. I’m honest.”

“Do you like… live on canals with your family or something?”

“I’ve got a narrowboat, but I ain’t got a family. It’s just me. Me and Albert.”

“Grandfather?” Minho guessed.

“Horse,” Jonghyun corrected. “Albert pulls the boat.”

Minho waited for a moment to see whether Jonghyun would go on. When he didn’t, Minho asked: “What about your family? What happened to them?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“It’s one way to find things out.”

Jonghyun shrugged. “My dad was in the Navy. Went off on a ship and never came back. I don’t know if he sank or stayed in a port somewhere around the world, or returned to England and didn’t bother with the final few miles. My mum died a few years back. Consumption, it was.”

“I’m sorry.”

“They wouldn’t let me see her,” Jonghyun went on as if he hadn’t heard, staring ahead into the distance. “She just wasted away. She got paler and thinner, like she was dying by inches. Coughing up blood every night. I knew they’d be coming to put me in the poorhouse when she died, so I ran away. No way I’d go into the Spike. Most people who go in there never come out again, or if they do they don’t come right in the body or in the head. I took the canals rather than walk cos I get further away in a shorter time.”

“Where did you get the boat from?” Minho asked. “Was it something that belonged to the family?”

“Hardly,” Jonghyun said, snorting. “Let’s just say I found it and leave it at that.”

“So how do you get by? What do you do for food?”

Jonghyun shrugged. “I work in the fields over the summer, picking fruit or cutting wheat. Everyone wants cheap workers, and they don’t worry about using kids. During the winter I do odd jobs: a bit of gardening here, replacing lead tiles on church roofs there. I make do. I’ll do anything apart from chimney-sweeping and working down the mines. That’s a slow death, that is.”

“You make a good point.” Minho conceded. “How long have you been in Farnham?”

“A couple of weeks. It’s a good place.” Jonghyun conceded. “People are reasonably friendly, and they don’t bother you too much. It’s a solid, respectable town.” He hesitated slightly. “Except…”

“Except what?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, pulling himself together. “Look, I’ve been watching you for a while. You ain’t got any friends around here, and you’re not stupid. You can figure stuff out. Well, I seen something in town, and I can’t explain it.” He blushed slightly, and looked away. “I was hoping you could help.”

Minho shrugged, intrigued. “I can give it a go. What is it?”

“Best I show you.”