Mary told him what she had worked out from the letters. “My aunt was very ill with cancer, and my mother came over from India to see her in her last days—she brought me with her, but I don’t remember. I was only little.” She looked at the swing. “My mother wrote that she wanted to be with my aunt when she died and she knew my aunt wanted to die here in this garden by this tree. It was her special place.”

She looked around the clearing. “My aunt made this whole garden. She grew the flowers. She put the statues in place. She designed the temple. After she died, I think my uncle locked the garden up because it caused him too much pain.” Her eyes met Dickon’s. “I believe my aunt is the reason the garden is magic. I think she wanted me to find the key so”—she took a breath—“so I could use the garden to cure her son.”

Mary looked fiercely at Dickon, daring him to laugh. But he didn’t.

“I haven’t got long,” she went on. “They’re sending me away to school. I have to see if the garden can heal Colin before I go. But I can’t do it on my own, Dickon. I need your help.”

He nodded solemnly. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

19

Unlocking the Past

If I can help Colin get better, I don’t care what happens to me, Mary thought fiercely as she crept through the corridors with Dickon behind her. They can send me to school and do whatever they like.

To her relief, through one of the windows, she saw Mrs. Medlock setting out in the car. At least that was one less person to avoid!

Colin was waiting for them. “Are we going to the garden again?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes,” Mary told him.

“Why didn’t you come and see me last night?” Colin asked her accusingly as they set off down the corridor. “I waited and waited, and you didn’t come.”

“I couldn’t,” she said. “I was locked up. They want to send me away to school, Colin!”

“Send you away?” echoed Colin.

She nodded miserably. “Your father is determined. Mrs. Medlock worked out I’d been visiting you, which made him angry, and then they found I’d been in your mother’s room. It was in such a mess from the other night.”

“I will tell Father I don’t want you to go!” declared Colin.

Mary sighed. “I don’t think that will work. But let’s not talk about this now. Let’s just think about the garden.”

“Our garden!” Colin said happily.

Mary hesitated. It wasn’t their garden—she knew that now—but she wasn’t sure he was ready to hear that.