by Tom Palmer
No one spoke. Then Oliver did, smiling. ‘That football in the playground is banned.’
‘Thank you, Oliver.’ Mrs Baker smiled too. ‘But not that. What did he say about the school’s hundredth birthday?’
‘That we need to celebrate it?’ Maddie said.
Lily looked down at her exercise book. The subject had gone off football and she was sad again.
‘And that I am to plan the activities we do,’ Mrs Baker said.
No one responded.
‘Well, I suggest that each class celebrates by dressing in the clothes of a different century. What do you think?’
‘Great!’ Oliver said.
‘And you,’ the teacher went on, ‘could dress up as people from the … fourteenth century.’
Lily stared at the table. Why was Mrs Baker so bothered about dressing up in silly costumes? And what had the fourteenth century got to do with anything? It was football that was important.
Journey to the Centre of the Earth
‘What was Mrs Baker on about?’ Maddie said at lunchtime when they were gathered at their usual place at the far edge of the playground.
Lily shrugged and looked at Zack and Khal, then at James and Batts.
‘I’m not sure,’ Zack said. ‘But I think it was about something.’
They stared into the woods. The noise from the playground was as loud as usual. Younger kids running around, chasing each other, older ones standing in groups. Not a ball in sight.
‘Let’s go in,’ Khal said.
‘Do we dare?’ Lily asked, looking around for one of the teachers on duty.
‘I don’t think we should,’ Maddie contributed.
‘I dare,’ James said.
‘So do I,’ Lily said.
‘No you don’t,’ James retorted.
‘I do.’
‘Prove it.’
Last year, before the summer holidays, they had dared to enter the woods. They’d sneaked in and built a den. Just the six of them.
‘But Mr Edwards won’t like it, will he?’ Maddie said, looking at Lily.
‘So what? He’s not the king, is he?’ James said. ‘And he never said we couldn’t go into the woods. Maybe that rule has been forgotten.’
‘Come on,’ Batts said.
And, without speaking, one by one, the six children walked along the side of the old sheds and slipped into the woods. They moved through the trees and hanging ivy, over what they thought was an old tennis court that was now overgrown, the court crumbling with weeds and brambles bursting through its surface.
They found their den. A shack they’d built with huge pieces of corrugated iron and sheets of plastic they’d found in the woods. It was unchanged. No one had been in it. Nothing had been moved. The children sat in a circle. Quiet.
‘What are we going to do?’ Lily asked, breaking the silence. ‘About football.’
‘Nothing,’ James said. ‘We can’t do anything.’
‘We have to,’ Khal said.
‘But what?’ Maddie moaned. ‘There’s nowhere we can play. Not round where any of us live. And now not in school. We’ll never be able to play football again. In our lives.’
‘Well, what if Mrs Baker was trying to tell us something?’ Zack said.
Lily looked at Zack. If anyone was going to solve their problem, it was him. Zack was clever. He was always the first to find solutions.
‘But what?’ Maddie said again.
‘That if it was OK to carry on playing football when it was banned in the fourteenth century,’ Zack said, ‘then maybe it is now. That Mr Edwards is just a stupid king.’
‘She didn’t say that,’ James cut in.
‘But maybe that’s what she meant,’ Lily said, agreeing with Zack.
‘So how are you going to play football?’ James went on, scowling at Lily. ‘It’s not like you can put up a massive screen in front of Mr Edwards’ office so we can play in the playground. There’s nowhere to play. Not for miles.’
No one spoke. James was right.
Lily looked at her watch. She felt sad again. ‘We have to go back. Before the end of lunch.’
The six friends stood and ducked out of their den. Lily waited until James was up ahead; he was irritating her. Then they all walked carefully across the old tennis court, trying not to get their legs caught in the tangle of ivy and brambles.
James, Maddie, Khal, Batts and Lily were almost out of the woods when they realized Zack wasn’t with them.
‘Where’s Zack?’ Lily asked.
No one knew. They were worried, all thinking the same thing. That he’d fallen. That he was injured or worse. And that they’d left him there.
Lily led them back. When they reached the clearing where the old tennis court used to be, they saw Zack. He was standing in the middle of the tennis court, great clumps of ivy and roots in his hands. Lily and Maddie looked at each other, while James frowned and put his hands on his hips.
Then Zack spoke. ‘This is it. This is where we can play football. Hidden by a screen … of trees!’
Dirty Beasts
For the next two weeks the six children worked tirelessly.
Every break.
Every lunchtime.
Because Zack had had a brilliant idea. The old tennis court: it was perfect for a football pitch. A secret football pitch.
Although the surface of the court had been punctured by roots and was strewn with ivy and other plants, it was still a flat surface, as big as a five-a-side pitch. And the best thing was, it was hidden from the school by the dozens of trees that made up Kingsfolly Wood.
Zack had worked out a system. Each break and lunchtime, four of them would go into the woods and clear the court. The other two would act as look-outs: one stood by the old sheds, guarding their entrance to the woods; the other watched the school buildings – including Mr Edwards’ office window, which had a view over the woods.
That was how they would protect the Secret Football Club.
Clearing the court was hard. Both hard work and also hard not to get filthy moving plants and soil around. During the first couple of days they had smuggled in garden tools from their parents’ houses: trowels, the only digging implements small enough to hide in their school bags. They dug and slashed and chopped and hacked.
By Friday of the first week the tennis court looked no different. Except there were huge piles of dead plants and wood at the edge.
‘This’ll take all year,’ Maddie said to Lily.
‘Maybe all term?’ Lily smiled back at her friend. ‘But it’ll be worth it. Imagine having our own secret football pitch.’
So they kept at it.
One thing they were careful about was avoiding getting dirty. On the first day Batts was covered in mud. His hands and forearms were filthy, his clothes too. But Zack quickly devised a system to fix that problem.
First, everyone brought in spare clothes to put over their school uniforms as they were clearing the tennis court. Second, whoever was guarding the entrance to the wood had to inspect each of the four clearers on their way out to check if they were dirty. And then the clearers would have to wash their hands at the outdoor tap that was conveniently placed at the back of the old sheds. Because if they were seen to be dirty – or with torn clothes – the teachers would suspect something was going on.
It was hard going, but towards the middle of the second week things changed dramatically. Suddenly the tennis court was clear. They could see how big it was. Now – rather than clearing away weeds and roots – they were levelling off the pitch and bringing in soil and small stones from deeper in the woods to fill holes in its surface. One day it rained and they used it to their advantage, pressing mud into the cracks that the ivy had torn up.
*
On the second Friday of term, before they got ready for another round of clearing, Khal was getting impatient. He stood on the lower roots of a tree, looking at the pitch.
‘Let’s play this afternoon break,’ he said. ‘It’s re
ady.’
‘Not yet,’ James said. ‘It’s not perfect.’
For once Lily agreed with James. ‘We need to level off the bottom end first,’ she said. ‘James is right.’
Khal started climbing the tree. ‘It’s level. I can see it from here. From above.’ He climbed higher.
‘It’s not level,’ Zack said. ‘One more day and it’ll be right.’
They all gazed down the pitch. It was good. But not perfect.
And as they gazed, away from Khal, away from the tree he was climbing, they heard the noise. A violent crack that echoed around Kingsfolly Wood.
When they looked round, they saw Khal lying on the ground, his eyes closed, and a large branch on top of him.
Don’t Tell the Teacher
Once Khal’s eyes had opened, James took over.
First, he talked to Khal to make sure he was OK. Then he checked all of Khal’s limbs, looking for breaks and deep cuts. The other four crowded round him. The only thing James could find wrong was a rip in Khal’s school trousers and a nasty cut on his shin, below his knee.
‘You need to get that cleaned up and dressed,’ James said.
‘It’ll be OK,’ Khal said, wincing as he straightened his leg.
‘Listen to James,’ Lily said. ‘It could go bad.’
James nodded.
‘How do you know about all this, James?’ Maddie asked.
‘Scouts. We did a first-aid course.’
‘Right,’ she said, looking impressed.
They helped Khal across the playground. And, as they did, all the other children in school stopped to stare, forming a pathway between the woods and the main door.
All the way Lily was worrying. She could see teachers’ faces at some of the windows on the second floor. And Oliver Sykes watching them, on his own at the edge of the playground.
To make sure Khal got looked after properly, would they need to reveal their secret? How else could they explain his fall – and how dirty he was? Then there’d be no football ever again. Full stop.
Mrs Baker was the first at the door. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked.
Lily said what they’d agreed to say. ‘We were behind the sheds – and Khal fell.’
‘Let’s see,’ Mrs Baker said, looking carefully at Khal. ‘Bring him up to sick bay. Can he walk?’
‘With some help,’ Lily replied, frowning.
So, with Maddie on one side and James on the other, Khal limped up the stairs.
This is going OK, Lily thought. Mrs Baker wasn’t asking any more questions, and no other teachers had become involved.
They made it up the short staircase, to the sick bay. Maddie, James and Lily crowded round the doorway, Zack and Batts behind them.
Mrs Baker looked at Khal’s leg, then at the others. ‘You lot go back to the playground,’ she said. ‘I’ll look after Khal. It’s not serious.’
But then Lily jumped as another voice came over hers. A man’s voice.
‘What is going on? How did this happen? Why are you all so filthy?’ It was Mr Edwards. ‘What have you children been doing?’ He saw Khalid and looked suddenly worried. ‘Khalid, are you OK?’
‘He’s fine, Mr Edwards,’ Mrs Baker said, smiling up at the head teacher.
Mr Edwards looked relieved. Then he said, ‘Lily? Were you there?’ He stepped closer to Lily and seemed to loom over her.
‘Yes,’ Lily answered, trying to move backwards.
This was it. This was where she was going to get told off and found out and everything else. It was the end. How else could they explain the soil on their hands? They’d not had a chance to wash since Khal fell.
‘It’s OK, Mr Edwards,’ Mrs Baker broke in, speaking in a calm voice. ‘Khal has grazed his knee. A small cut. Lily and the others helped him up and into school. And they’ve all got a bit dirty in the process.’
Mr Edwards looked doubtful. He frowned at Lily. And Lily thought he knew. About the tennis court. About the Secret Football Club. About everything.
‘What I’m more concerned about is Khal’s knee,’ Mrs Baker went on. ‘Mr Edwards, please can you get me some bandages from the supply cupboard?’
With that, Mr Edwards became Mrs Baker’s nurse. And the Secret Football Club remained a secret, ready for their first game of the season next Monday.
Off Side
Khal found himself easing back in a soft chair as his classmates were doing maths. He could have gone to maths and coped with the pain coming from his sore shin, but this was nicer. Much nicer. He had a glass of milk, a banana and one of the chocolate biscuits left over from lunch to eat. Why go to maths?
In the next room, Mrs Baker was talking to Mr Edwards. It was a small office, with a desk, a computer and a large pot plant in the corner by the window.
Mr Edwards was pacing up and down. He looked worried.
‘Tell me again how it happened,’ he asked.
‘Khal fell. He just tripped over. It happens every lunchtime to someone.’
Mr Edwards stopped pacing and stood still. ‘I know,’ he said.
Mrs Baker paused for a moment, looking out of the window. Then she spoke. ‘You do get terribly worried when the children are in danger, don’t you?’
Mr Edwards sighed. ‘Yes,’ he admitted.
‘What is it?’
‘What’s what?’
‘Why do you get so worried? Children play games and fall over all the time. It’s part of growing up.’
‘It’s … W-well …’ Mr Edwards was stuttering. ‘You’re thinking about me banning football on my first day, aren’t you?’
Mrs Baker nodded.
‘I knew you were against that,’ he said calmly, ‘but it’s for their own good.’
‘It’s not that I’m against it, Mr Edwards. I will support any of your decisions. I just don’t understand why you made that decision.’
‘I should explain.’
‘That would help me,’ Mrs Baker said.
‘When I was young,’ Mr Edwards began. ‘Ten. The same age as Lily and Khalid and their friends …’
‘Yes?’
‘… I played football all day. I loved football. I was good at it.’
Mrs Baker looked shocked. ‘Then why …?’
‘Why did I ban football?’
‘Yes.’
Mr Edwards breathed in. Mrs Baker could see that he was struggling to explain himself.
‘Because,’ he said eventually, ‘that summer – when I was ten – I was playing football with my best friend, Peter, in some fields near where we lived. And …’ Mr Edwards swallowed. ‘And he tripped on a heap of dumped bricks hidden in some long grass. He fell badly. He hurt his head, and his neck. And … he was paralysed. For the rest of his life.’
Mrs Baker nodded, but didn’t speak. She had to try hard to stop tears forming in her eyes.
Friendly Matches
On Monday morning Lily got to the playground early.
She was too excited not to be at school. She couldn’t wait for morning break. When she came in past the high gates and fences Lily expected to be the first to arrive.
But she wasn’t.
James was there, talking to Batts. Maddie was there. With Khal. And Zack. They all turned to grin at her together, and she grinned back. This was it! There was just one more thing to decide.
‘Who else do we let play?’ Lily asked.
‘No one,’ James replied quickly.
‘Three a side isn’t enough,’ Maddie said.
James shrugged. ‘But we’ll never be able to trust anyone to keep quiet.’
Lily realized that everyone was looking at her. ‘We need two more,’ she said. But she wanted to make sure. She didn’t want to fall out with James before the first match. ‘You pick them, James.’
James looked rather pleased, especially when everyone agreed. He pulled a thinking face. Then, without any more hesitation, he said, ‘Finn and Rebecca.’
Now they only had to wait until morning break before
the Secret Football Club could play the first game.
They picked two teams without wasting any time. Lily, Maddie, Zack and Finn versus James, Batts, Khal and Rebecca.
Lily said quietly, ‘I declare the Secret Football Club open!’ and they kicked off.
Everything felt perfect. The ball was bouncing nicely off their makeshift surface. The only difficulty was playing in silence. It was something they’d decided, to protect their secret.
Playing in the woods was brilliant. Surrounded by trees heavy with leaves turning a nice orange colour. The smell of earth – and the plants they’d cut – filling the air. The sound of birds sometimes replacing the thunder of express trains.
At the start James’s team was on top. With Batts in defence (and playing goalie-when-needed) and with Khal up front, they were the perfect four-a-side team. Khal scored first after a great pass from Rebecca.
But then it changed. Lily and Maddie made sure of that. Once they got going, they were hard to stop.
Lily passed to Maddie. Maddie passed to Lily. Goal one.
Then, once they had the ball back, Lily to Maddie … to Zack … to Finn … to Maddie and it was two–one.
Lily could see James getting mad now that his team was losing. Normally he would shout at his team, order them about. But he couldn’t do that in the woods. They had to be quiet. So he had to go up to his team-mates and tell them – in a normal voice – what to do.
And that left holes in their defence. Allowing Maddie to score again.
Three–one.
‘This isn’t fair,’ James shouted.
‘Shhhhhhh,’ Lily said.
‘No way,’ James went on, but more quietly. ‘You can’t have Lily and Maddie on the same team. They’re too good.’
Zack watched as Lily, then Khal, tried to calm James down. He knew James hated losing; he always got upset if things were going against him.
Zack looked up at the slight outline of the school behind the trees, as a train whooshed past on the railway tracks. He hoped another train had been coming by when James had shouted. The last thing they wanted to do was draw attention to their games. They had to be hidden and quiet to get away with it.