are we going to do?” Tiger sniffed, clinging to Holly.
Tiger didn’t want to talk to May Days about her leaving – it was too hard. She crept down the last few stairs and tiptoed along the hallway behind May Days, and out through the front door. She needed to think … She had to find a way of making her grandmother want to stay at Willowgate for good.
Tiger sat on the lawn cuddling Holly and gazing up at the house. Apart from all the animals that visited and lived in the gardens, Willowgate had been unoccupied for years and years until May Days had bought it. Over the last year, builders, plumbers and all sorts of people had come to help repair the house. But hardly anyone came now it was almost finished, and it suddenly seemed very quiet and deserted, especially with Tom and Grumps away on holiday. With its wide porch, large windows and long welcoming drive, it looked like it was inviting people in. But the house that Tiger loved now seemed as hollow as an empty shell.
“Poor old house,” Tiger whispered in Holly’s twitching ear. “It will be all by itself again soon.”
Maybe May Days was planning to spend half the time in Africa and half of it at Willowgate, like the swallows? Or worse – much, much worse – what if May Days decided she preferred living in Africa and didn’t come back? Tiger hadn’t had her grandmother around until she was nine years old, and they had grown close over the last year. Tiger couldn’t imagine her life now without May Days in it. But, back in Africa, Grace must miss May Days too. It bothered Tiger terribly that people who were so fond of each other had to live so far apart.
Tiger went back inside the house, trudged up the stairs and into the empty bedroom she wished was hers. Her heart sank as she thought that May Days might never have intended to stay for long. She curled up on the windowsill and, feeling lonely without Tom to talk to, told Holly her troubles. Holly was a good listener and particularly generous with soft, warm cuddles. But Tiger missed having her friend around. It wasn’t that Tom knew all the answers, but he always had good ideas, and it was nice to have someone to rely on and ask for help.
Tiger was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of a vehicle on the gravel drive and looked out of the window. A small blue van had arrived with the name MR SPARK painted on the side in jazzy white letters. A man got out and walked into the house. Tiger soon heard him speaking to May Days, followed by the stomp of work boots on the bare stairs.
“Hello,” said Tiger, when the electrician appeared in the doorway. “Mind the holes,” she warned, and he tiptoed carefully across the gaps in the floorboards.
“You must be Tiger,” said Mr Spark. “Your grandmother talks about you all the time.”
Tiger smiled, even though she was sad inside. One thing she had learned from May Days was that it was better to do something useful than sit around worrying.
“Can I help you?” Tiger said, kneeling carefully on the firm floorboards beside Mr Spark. “I need something to do.”
Mr Spark was happy to have an assistant to pass him things from his toolbox. Tiger concentrated on learning what some of the tools were called.
“Hammer, please,” Mr Spark said, and used it to lever out a sharp nail. “Can you hold the torch and shine it under there?”
Tiger pointed the torch under the floorboards so Mr Spark could see where to stretch his arm into the gap to reach for the wires.
“There’s something else in there,” said Tiger, peering in. “Can you get it for me?”
It was an old newspaper, and Mr Spark gave it to Tiger to have a look at while he joined up some wires. The newspaper was yellow and it crackled in Tiger’s hands. It was dated Thursday 7 May 1953.
“Did people live in the house all those years ago?” Tiger said, interested that she had found something from the past.
“Lots of people have come and gone from here. The house was built over two hundred years ago,” said Mr Spark. “Snippers, please.”
Tiger passed the snippers then looked through the newspaper while she waited for her next instruction. She turned a page and couldn’t believe her eyes. A headline read MAY DAY FAYRE and there was a photograph of lots of people standing on the lawn of Willowgate House.
“Look!” Tiger said, showing the page to Mr Spark. “Look at all the people who visited here.” She read the article out loud to him.
“More than a hundred people attended the annual May Day Fayre at Willowgate House last Saturday, hosted by Mrs Humble as she celebrated her eightieth birthday. Mrs Humble sat outside on the porch and watched the sack races and the children maypole dancing.” Tiger was amazed and looked up at Mr Spark, who was peering closely at the photo.
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