The Farm Beneath the Water by Helen Peters Page B

don’t know why you’re bothering to lie to us.”
    “A dating agency?” Dad’s voice was about two octaves higher than usual.
    “Wearing your best clothes. Strange women all over the place.”
    “Are you getting married again?” asked Jo. “Is Sophie going to be our stepmother?”
    Dad looked completely bewildered. Then, suddenly, his face cleared and he threw back his head and laughed until the tears rolled down his face.
    Hannah stared at him.
    “What are you laughing about? There’s nothing to laugh about.”
    “He’s gone mad,” said Martha. “He needs locking up.”
    Eventually, Dad stopped laughing, pulled a grubby handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his eyes.
    “I’m not getting married again, all right? I’ve got enough on my plate without that, for goodness’ sake. I have absolutely no intention of getting married. Or,” he said to Martha, seeing that she had openedher mouth to interrupt, “joining a dating agency. All right?”
    They stayed silent for a while, taking this in.
    “Really? Definitely?” said Hannah.
    “Absolutely definitely.”
    Oh, thank goodness, thought Hannah. They weren’t going to get a stepmother. There was nothing to worry about. Her hunched shoulders dropped and she let out her pent-up breath in a huge sigh of relief.
    Sam looked disappointed. “Oh. She was nice.”
    “Stepmothers always seem nice,” said Jo darkly. “Until they try to kill you.”
    Martha was still frowning. “So who were all those people, then? Why were you wearing your best jacket and making tea?”
    “They’re from the local Ecology Group. They’re interested in the farm, that’s all. How soon’s tea, Hannah? If it’s not ready, I’ve got things to do.” He pushed back his stool and stood up.
    But Martha’s question had stirred up Hannah’s thoughts.
    “Wait a minute. If Sophie was just interested in the farm, why was she wanting to put stuff in the loft?”
    Dad hesitated. Then he said, “Sophie’s a chiropterologist.”
    “A what?”
    “She studies bats. We know bats roost in the loft, and she wants to put recording equipment up there so she can identify how many species we have.”
    “Cool,” said Jo, her face lit up with interest. “What was that word you said?”
    But it still didn’t make sense to Hannah. “But then why did you say she was just what we need? Why do you need her?”
    “Need? What do you mean?”
    “You said she might be just what we need.”
    “Did I?”
    Hannah prickled with irritation. “You’re still not telling us the truth. I know you’re not. When those other people came round, one woman said something about it being a totally unsuitable site, and you sent me and Lottie out of the room. What’s it unsuitable for?”
    “And,” said Jo, “why did that lady ask if you’d told us yet? What haven’t you told us?”
    “Yes,” said Hannah. “And she said she hoped we wouldn’t hear it from someone at school – oh!”
    Like a punch to the stomach, she remembered the last time someone hadn’t wanted her to find something out from gossip. That time, it had been Granny. And Granny had been warning her that her father had no money to pay the rent and they might have to leave the farm.
    Had Dad run out of money again?
    “What?” Dad asked Hannah. “What’s up with you?”
    Hannah glanced at the Beans. She didn’t want to scare them, but she had to get the truth out of Dad. This was their chance to get a proper answer, while they had him cornered.
    Trying not to sound too panicked, she made herself look her father in the eye. “Is it the rent? Isit the landlord?”
    Sam went white.
    Jo gasped. “Has the money run out? Is the landlord going to demolish the farm and build houses on it?”
    Dad cleared his throat.
    “No,” he said. “No, it isn’t that.”
    “What is it, then?” said Martha. “Something’s going on. You have to tell us.”
    “We saved the farm,” said Jo. “Well, Hannah did. So you have to tell