12 EMMA LANE

CHAPTER TWELVE EMMA LANE GEORGE AND Jack called in at the post office as Peter had told them. They knew the post office girl, and she smiled at them. 'I hope it won't bother you to find out for us,' began George, very politely. 'But we want to know where someone called Emma Lane lives. It's rather important. Can you possibly tell us?' 'It will take me a few minutes,' said the girl taking down a big directory. 'I'll find out for you now.' The boys waited patiently. The girl turned over page after page, running her finger down

lists of names. 'Yes,' she said. 'There is an Emma Lane. Mrs Emma Lane, one, Church Street. That must be the one you want. It's the only Emma Lane there is. The others are Elizabeth and Elsie.' 'Oh thanks!' said George, delighted. 'One, Church Street. That's easy to remember!' 'We'll go and tell Peter after dinner,' said Jack. 'Then perhaps we could all go and find out exactly who Emma Lane is and what she does.' So, after dinner, they went round to Peter's house and he and Janet listened with great interest to their bit of news. 'We'll go straightaway to Emma Lane's and see if we can find out anything at all,' said Peter. 'She might know Mr Tizer, for instance.' 'Yes. She might tell us something about him, and that awful uncle of Jeff's,' said

George. 'Shall we get the others and all go together?' 'No,' said Peter. 'It might look a bit peculiar, seven of us arriving to talk to Emma!' They set off to Church Street. Number One was a dear little house, neat and pretty with a tiny well-kept front garden. The four children stopped outside, and debated who was to go to the door and what to say. 'You go, Peter,' said George. 'We did our bit going to the post office. I wouldn't know what to say to Emma Lane!' 'All right. Janet and I will go,' said Peter, and he and his sister walked up the little path to the neat green front door. They rang the bell. A small girl opened the door and stared at them. She didn't say a word.

'Er– could you tell me if Mrs Emma Lane is in?' asked Peter, politely. 'Who's she?' asked the little girl. 'I've never heard of any Emma Lane.' This was most surprising. Peter was puzzled.

'But the post office said she lived here,' he said. 'Isn't there an Emma Lane here? What about your mother?' 'My mother's called Mary Margaret Harris,' said the small girl. 'And I'm Lucy Ann Harris.' A voice called up the hall passage. 'Who's that, Lucy?' 'I don't know,' called back Lucy. 'It's just two children asking for someone who doesn't live here.' A lady came up the passage, her hands covered in flour. She smiled at Peter and Janet. 'I'm making cakes,' she said. 'Now, who is it you want?' 'They want an Emma Lane,' said the little girl, laughing. 'But she doesn't live here, does she, Mother?' 'Emma Lane? Why, she's your grandmother, you silly child!' said the lady. Lucy stared at her mother in surprise. 'I never knew Granny's name was Emma,'

she said. 'I never heard anyone call her Emma Lane. You call her Mother and I call her Granny.' 'Well, she's got a name, all the same,' said the lady. She turned to Peter and Janet. 'The old lady doesn't live here now,' she said. 'She went away three months ago to the seaside, and we've got her house instead. Did you want to speak to her?' 'No– well, yes– but it doesn't matter,' said Peter, feeling rather muddled. 'Thank you very much. I'm sorry to have bothered you in the middle of making cakes.' He and Janet went down the path. 'What a silly girl not to know her grandmother's name,' said Janet. 'Well, do you know the names of our two grannies?' said Peter. 'We know their surnames, but I don't know the Christian name of either of our grannies! I've never heard anyone call them by name, except that