Ribblestrop Forever!

by Andy Mulligan

  ‘It’s the sun, miss.’

  ‘Wait a moment . . .’

  A cloud had moved by as they were staring and the sun was suddenly brighter than it had been all morning. It was as if it leant in close and burned, hard as a searchlight. The stone flashed whiter than ever and the light caught the edges of the carvings and silvered them. Down in the water, the reflection was charged with life and the symbols of trees, or feathers, or streams, or flowers – whatever they were – stood out in columns rather than lines. For a moment they pulsed, shining in the blackness like white letters on a black page.

  ‘Oh my God, you read downward,’ said Vicky.

  ‘They all end in feathers,’ cried Doctor Ellie. ‘Every column, look! Every column is a flare path and they all end in feathers. They end in the same place, perhaps . . . The necropolis, do you think? . . . Tomaz!’

  Tomaz was in the water, wading to the stone.

  He had jumped and the resulting splash made some of the younger children squeal. It wasn’t a deep pond, so the water only came to his knees and he kicked the surface hard, from side to side, soaking Israel and two of The Priory children.

  Mr Ian jumped back and roared. ‘How dare you!’ he yelled. ‘Get out at once!’

  Tomaz kicked and splashed, and it was as if he was erasing the reflection. He spun round in the water so waves destroyed the surface. Then he was the one shouting.

  ‘What if they don’t?’ he cried. ‘What if they don’t? What if they don’t?’

  Sanchez jumped in after him and so did Miles. They tried to grab him, but he twisted out of their grip and fell back against the stone.

  ‘What if they don’t want to be found?’ he panted.

  ‘Look,’ said Mr Ian. ‘I’ve had just about enough!’

  ‘Who?’ said Doctor Ellie. She was moving towards Tomaz. ‘Who are you talking about?’

  ‘Tom!’ said Miles. ‘Calm down! This is—’

  ‘No! No!’

  Miles tried to hold him, but it was impossible.

  ‘What right have you got?’ cried Tomaz.

  He was sobbing. He was soaking wet and his thin body was still pressed against the stone as if he was trying to conceal or protect it.

  ‘Please tell me what’s wrong,’ said Doctor Ellie. ‘I can see you’re upset and I promise I—’

  ‘You’ve got no right to go looking for them,’ sobbed Tomaz. ‘You think you can poke around and . . . what are you going to do? What if you’re right? What then? Don’t you understand – look at them! Look! Look up there, on the walls!’

  He was gazing up at the top of the surrounding walls and everyone swung round to see what he could see. There was nothing, but Tomaz remained wild-eyed. ‘They don’t want to be found!’ he said. ‘Why is that so hard to understand? Leave them alone!’

  With that, he turned and pushed with all his might, against the stone. Vicky cried out and Caspar leapt into the water to stop him. It was too late, though: the stone fell in three pieces and the water was lifted into a geyser as it fell. Tomaz walked over it, climbing out of the pond on the far side. He went across the grass, to where the wall was broken and started to climb. He was crying, openly. Miles followed and so did Imagio and Vijay. Asilah called something in his own language and everyone watched as the four of them disappeared and the disturbed water slowly settled.

  Millie felt something against her cheek and grabbed at it. She saw Anjoli do the same and she saw that one of The Priory children had one too.

  There were feathers in the air, blowing randomly over the pool, catching at some of the children, then rising up and soaring over the walls of the garden, out of sight.

  Someone was laughing.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Back at the village, the mood was sombre.

  Tomaz had not returned and nor had the boys who had followed him. In the absence of the main chef, Captain Routon cooked the rabbits and, though it was a rich, wholesome stew, it was hard to swallow. The teachers usually stayed in the camp until after bedtime, but on this occasion they withdrew just as the sun went down and walked to their own camp. They had two tents pitched close to Doctor Ellie’s van and would often enjoy a nightcap together under the stars.

  ‘I wonder what’s brewing,’ said Professor Worthington, gazing up at Orion.

  ‘It’s been going on all week,’ said Doonan. ‘There’s been something not quite right, but I’ve not been able to put my finger on it.’

  ‘Tomaz is a deep, fragile boy,’ said the headmaster. ‘We’ve always known that, ever since he fled after that business with Miles. He’s seen the rough side of life, has Tomaz. Like Imagio and Asilah. And all the orphans, of course . . .’

  ‘And Millie and Sanchez,’ said Routon.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And Henry,’ said Doonan.

  ‘Yes. All of them, really.’

  ‘I suggest we stay well out of it and let them deal with the situation.’

  ‘You don’t think we should have a meeting?’ said Doonan. ‘Try and talk it out?’

  ‘No. I don’t.’

  There was a silence.

  ‘Tomaz is loved,’ said the headmaster. ‘If his friends can’t help him, I’m quite sure his teachers can’t. What was he seeing, on the walls? He saw something. Who’s he protecting?’

  The children, meanwhile, gathered in the roundhouse.

  Nobody had any intention of going to bed, so they lit torches and played cards. Some decorated their weapons and one or two made jewellery out of the countless items that had been gathered during the day – the grasses and the pebbles and the drops of waste metal. It was nearly midnight before Miles came back. He stood looking at his friends, hands on hips.

  ‘Well?’ said Asilah.

  ‘He won’t talk. I think we all need to go to him.’

  ‘Where? Where is he?’

  ‘Up a tree. We lost him for a bit, after he ran for it. So we wasted time going down Neptune. We thought he might have gone back to his house.’

  ‘So what did he do?’ said Sam. ‘Are the others with him?’

  ‘Yes, but he won’t say anything. We should have come to get you earlier, we would have found him sooner. You know the elms, up by the edge? We should have guessed.’

  ‘I went there with him,’ said Israel. ‘He loves that place.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Miles. ‘There’s a pretty good moon, we won’t need torches. Vijay found him and it’s my hunch we need everyone.’

  The children put their cloaks on and walked out of the village in single file. Now that the defences had been strengthened, they were obliged to go carefully, for there were a variety of concealed traps on the pathways and it would be unpleasant to spring them. Miles led the way and they were soon on a well-worn track that led up to the rocky outcrop known as Ribblestrop Edge. The trees thinned and the moon poured through them. Soon they were climbing up through scrub and gorse, and they saw the six great elms that dominated the skyline. Trees had meant very little to the children before the history project had begun. They were simply things that could be climbed occasionally. In the last few weeks they had learnt that every patch of forest had its own character and that a tree could be friendly, hostile, indifferent or awkward. The six elms were giants: strong, patient and benign.

  ‘Is that where he is?’ said Sanchez, gazing upwards.

  ‘That’s where he is,’ said Miles. ‘He’s just being stubborn.’

  ‘Has he talked to you at all?’

  ‘You know what’s wrong, Sanchez. I was talking to Millie. I know you know.’

  ‘What can we do about it, though? I don’t know, Miles – I’m lost.’

  ‘What I think he wants is solidarity. If he gets solidarity, he’ll come down and be normal again. Come on.’

  ‘I’m going to need a rope ladder to get up there.’

  ‘No you’re not.’

  The children gathered round the trunk of the central tree. There were lumps in the higher branches, that could have been
birds’ nests or clumps of leaves. Asilah called something in his own language and Vijay answered with a whistle.

  ‘You go first, Nikko,’ said Asilah. ‘Show us the best way.’

  ‘I can’t do this,’ said Ruskin. ‘I’m going to stay down here.’

  ‘I’ve done it,’ said Miles. ‘It’s not difficult.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re not frightened of anything,’ said Ruskin.

  ‘Just do it, fat boy,’ said Millie. ‘It’s the getting down that will be harder.’

  Nikko had reached the first branch even as she spoke. Sanjay was behind him, and they could see now how there were ridges, and if you fitted your hands and feet carefully, it was like a vertical staircase. Some of the bigger orphans stayed behind Ruskin and Sanchez, just in case they needed support – and Sanchez did get stuck once when he overreached and found himself teetering backwards. A hand on his back righted him and another hand supported his heel. He was able to move on and soon he had both arms round a manageable branch. In five minutes, the tree splayed out into a multitude of easier pathways and there was little difficulty in ascending. They moved up into the leaves, clambering on and on, and soon the tree was thick with children and the breeze was whispering among them.

  Tomaz had found himself a comfortable ‘v’ at the very top of the tree. He sat there, curled in on himself, and was soon surrounded. Nikko, who was the lightest, actually moved up above him, into a little cluster of twigs. He swayed close to Tomaz’s head, and Tomaz said nothing.

  ‘How are you feeling, Tom?’ said Sanchez, at last.

  Still he said nothing.

  ‘This guy’s in a sulk,’ said Anjoli. ‘I’ve met moody people, but this guy takes the prize.’

  ‘I think he’s in love,’ said Miles, and a number of boys chuckled.

  ‘You get a housepoint for soaking Mr Ian,’ said Vijay. ‘That was cool.’

  ‘What upset you, Tom?’ said Sam.

  ‘We’re off on the trek tomorrow,’ said Sanjay. ‘We should be sleeping – it’s an early start.’

  ‘I’m not going,’ said Tomaz quietly.

  Sanchez said, ‘Not going where?’

  There was a silence. ‘I’m not going on the trek,’ said Tomaz. ‘I don’t even want to talk about it.’

  ‘What’s making you angry?’ said Millie. ‘You might as well tell us. We’re all here, listening.’

  ‘You know as well as I do. You know what they’re like, and . . .’

  ‘This is the tribe you’re talking about?’

  ‘You heard them. Well, I’ve seen them, all right? And I’m telling you, it’s just like what the poem says. You don’t go looking for people who don’t want to be found. What right do you have? I know what they’re going to do – I can see it. Doctor Ellie, Vicky . . . they’re going to go busting up something they don’t even understand.’

  ‘Doctor Ellie’s nice,’ said Oli. ‘What’s she breaking up?’

  ‘Okay,’ said Tomaz. He adjusted his position on the tree branch so he could look around more easily. ‘You think she’s nice. I’m sure she is. You think Vicky’s nice, and I’m sure she is too. But they’re so much into this history thing and finding stuff out and cracking open secrets that they’re going to . . . They’re going to do a lot of damage. What do you think they’re looking for? You know what they’re after – they think the flare paths are going to lead to some special, sacred place where there’s going to be treasure. Bones. People. What are they going to do? You think they’re going to arrive and say, “Oh, this is nice – we’d better not disturb all this!” Oh no. They’re going to call in the archaeologists, the TV crews, the newspapers. They’re going to dig it all up and bung it in some filthy museum. Millie, didn’t the little boy in the case make you feel bad? Didn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It makes me feel sick. They’re going to find a whole lot more of that kind of thing and . . .’ He was lost for words again. ‘I’m not going to be part of that,’ he said. ‘If you want to go, you go. All of you. But I tell you one thing: if you go with them and do this terrible thing, then I will . . .’ His voice started to crack. ‘I left here once before. I can do it again, you know. I’m not staying with a bunch of people who do that to the dead by digging them up and putting them in glass cases. I thought you were all good and responsible, but I’m not living here . . . not staying here . . .’ He was openly crying now and the sobs were choking him. ‘I can’t do it,’ he spluttered. ‘I just can’t.’

  Ruskin had a handkerchief and he passed it up to Sanjay. Sanjay got it to Anjoli who got it to Nikko and in a moment – via a stick – it was in Tomaz’s hand. He dabbed his eyes and blew his nose.

  Nobody said anything.

  ‘I think you’ve misunderstood, Tom,’ said a voice. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Several boys nearly fell and the tree shook as hands clutched branches. There were gasps of disbelief.

  ‘Vicky!’ said Millie. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  ‘You followed us!’ said Caspar.

  ‘Well,’ said Vicky, in a small voice, ‘that isn’t quite true. We didn’t follow you, exactly. We were here anyway . . .’

  ‘You’re up a tree,’ said Miles. ‘You’re halfway up the same tree we’re up, but you didn’t follow us?’

  ‘I followed you up the tree, but we were already on the Edge. We heard you, you see, so . . . we wanted to check you were all right.’

  ‘Who’s the “we”?’ said Asilah. ‘Are you telling us Doctor Ellie’s here, as well?’

  ‘She’s down on the ground.’

  ‘You’d better come a bit higher, miss,’ said Sanchez. ‘If we’re going to talk it would be easier.’

  ‘I’ll try. I haven’t done this for years.’

  The tree shook again and the figure of Vicky Stockinger, museum curator, emerged from the darkness and came to the upper branches. Tomaz stared at her.

  ‘I don’t know what you heard,’ he said, ‘but I’m not going to take anything back. I don’t want to . . . offend anyone, but what you’re doing is bad.’

  ‘Tomaz,’ said Vicky, ‘are you the one who’s been writing notes?’

  There was another silence.

  ‘What notes?’ said Imagio.

  ‘We’ve received three,’ said Vicky gently. ‘They’ve been delivered to the museum and they’re never signed. But they’re . . . they’re very angry and upset notes, aren’t they, Tom? They’re saying that Doctor Ellie and I should leave things alone and that we have no right to do what we’re doing.’

  ‘That’s what I think,’ said Tomaz, in a small voice. ‘That’s what I said. Okay, I should have put my name on, but . . . I was so angry. You don’t understand, miss! What you’re doing is . . . It’s just wrong.’

  ‘But, Tom. You’ve never asked us what we’re doing.’

  ‘You’re always going on about it! Walking the flare paths. Finding the grave sites. Digging things up.’

  Vicky was shaking her head. ‘No. You’re wrong. That’s not what we do.’

  ‘I think Tomaz has a good point,’ said Ruskin. ‘I can understand curiosity. But—’

  ‘Shhh,’ said Millie. ‘Sorry, Ruskin, but let Miss Vicky talk, will you?’

  ‘How is Tomaz wrong?’ said Imagio. ‘I’ve been listening hard and I think he has a good, solid point that nobody here’s even thought of. And if he’s not going on this trek thing, then I know for sure I’m not.’

  ‘I’m not,’ said Podma. ‘Eric’s not, either.’

  ‘I don’t know how the misunderstanding happened,’ said Vicky softly, ‘but there has been one. It’s my fault, for never taking the trouble to explain. And you’re quite right; when Ellie and I get together, we just get excited about things and we don’t stop and communicate. What happened today, by the pond, was a terrible lack of communication. You see, that child in the room downstairs – the skeleton . . .’

  ‘He shouldn’t be there, miss,’ said Tomaz.

  ‘I know that. Th
e British Museum have been wanting him for a number of years—’

  ‘Then you have to say no.’

  ‘Shut up!’ said Caspar. ‘Let her finish.’

  ‘We’ve always said no,’ said Vicky, ‘but the museum’s very small, and it’s already moved once. It’s going to close soon, we all know that, and the collection will be broken up. That’s just fact. A few weeks ago, someone from the British Museum came down and made another attempt to persuade us. But you see, Doctor Ellie and I . . . for a number of years – ever since we met, actually – we’ve had this dream that one day we could find the flare path that led to the . . . I don’t know what to call it. The sacred spot, or the sacred grove – whatever it is. And we want to put the little boy back where he actually belongs. We want . . .’ She broke off. ‘You know I said to you, Millie, that he affects quite a lot of people the way he affected you? He affects me very badly. I can’t sleep sometimes, because I can hear him.’

  ‘You hear him?’ said Anjoli.

  ‘Yes. Do you understand me, Tomaz? I’m still not sure I’m being clear. That little boy is lost. When he was found, when he was dug up, he became more lost. We want to put him back with those that are looking for him. And I think . . . I think you probably want to help us do that, don’t you?’

  Tomaz was looking down at her. Vicky’s eyes were full of tears now and he was reminded of pools.

  ‘I think you want to help us,’ she said, ‘because we’re actually on the same side.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Down on the ground, they found Doctor Ellie.

  She was sitting on a rock, patiently, and the children stood in clusters, unsure what to say.

  ‘Vicky will look after him,’ said Doctor Ellie. ‘She’ll get him ready tomorrow, Tomaz. We’ve been ready for a while, but we think we ought to take the plunge now. We’ll wrap him and we won’t disturb him again. Vicky will make him comfortable. I think he’s ready for the journey.’