The Tunnel Behind the Waterfall

by William Corlett

Spot ignored him. He started frantically sniffing the floorboards, moving quickly round the room, darting from corner to corner.

  ‘He’s got the scent of something,’ Alice said, watching the animal in a perplexed way.

  ‘Spot, what is it? What’s wrong?’ William asked.

  ‘Someone else in the room,’ Spot muttered. ‘Not a strong scent. Someone small. Not a friendly smell.’

  Jasper sat very erect, his eyes flashing, his head jerking from side to side, listening.

  ‘The assistant?’ he hissed.

  ‘Morden? Here?’ the Magician demanded in amazement. ‘Where?’

  ‘No,’ Spot replied, his nose still working, ‘not the assistant. But . . . one of his spies . . .’ and, as he finished speaking he rose up on his hind legs, leaning with his front paws on the sloping ceiling, immediately beneath the circular window beside which Jasper was sitting.

  ‘Something outside the window?’ Stephen Tyler exclaimed.

  ‘The spinner . . .’ Spot yelped, excitedly, his tail wagging and his paws scratching at the sloping surface in his eagerness to catch his prey.

  They all saw the spider at the same moment. It was poised in the centre of its web, its legs spread on gossamer threads so fine that it seemed to be suspended on the air.

  ‘The spider!’ William cried, hurling himself past the Magician in the direction of the window.

  But Jasper was nearest and quickest.

  ‘Mine, I think,’ he whistled and, darting forward, he snapped the spider from its web and swallowed it whole.

  ‘Ugh!’ Alice gasped. ‘He ate it!’

  ‘All gone!’ the bird said, settling himself once more on his perch and looking down with a disdainful expression.

  ‘Ugh!’ Alice said again and she shuddered and pulled a face of revulsion.

  Mary also stared in horror at the bird. She was remembering the mouse he had eaten at Christmas and, for a moment, she thought she was going to be sick.

  ‘How could you, Jasper?’ Alice exclaimed.

  ‘Little girl,’ the owl hooted. ‘You eat sausages.’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, quickly. ‘But they’re not alive and they don’t wriggle.’

  ‘No,’ Jasper agreed with her, ‘I’ve never fancied eating dead stuff myself – not if it can be possibly avoided.’ And dismissing the subject, he picked delicately with his beak at one of his claws.

  The Magician, meanwhile, was brooding.

  ‘I must go,’ he said, speaking more to himself than to the others. ‘Too much is happening that I do not fully understand.’

  ‘That’s how it always is for us,’ William exclaimed. ‘You never tell us what’s really going on. You expect us to do things without ever knowing why we have to do them.’

  The Magician turned and looked at him.

  ‘Is this rebellion, William?’ he asked, sounding almost amused.

  ‘Not exactly, no,’ William replied. ‘But you say you want us to help you. You say we have work to do . . . But you never tell us what it is.’

  The Magician sighed.

  ‘A just accusation,’ he said. ‘But you see, boy, I trusted Jonas Lewis and my trust destroyed him. He was corrupted . . . by me.’

  ‘Then,’ William argued, ‘that’s maybe why it’s a good thing there are three of us. We can stop each other from . . . getting greedy and . . . Oh please tell us what it’s all about.’

  For a moment there was silence in the room as the old man thought about what William had asked.

  ‘You’d have to come to my study for me to show you everything. I would need my books and my drawings to hand. I cannot think without my desk.’

  ‘But I thought this was your study,’ Mary said.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ the old man snapped. ‘But I mean my study in my own time. This is just a room – a study is books and paper and – a study is where a man can take his intellect down off the shelf, blow the dust off it and . . . apply it.’

  ‘The very first time we found this room,’ Alice volunteered, ‘last Christmas. You remember? When we first met you . . . I’m sure there was furniture here then. I’m sure there was.’

  The Magician glared at her.

  ‘I thought I met you at the station,’ he said.

  ‘No, you only met William there. Mary and I didn’t really believe you existed.’

  ‘Impertinence!’ the old man said, and then he chuckled. ‘I hope you have no doubt about it now?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Alice said. Then she continued, pressing home her point, ‘But – where did the furniture go? Why could we see it then, if we can’t see it now?’

  ‘Easy!’ the Magician exclaimed. ‘D’you ride a horse?’

  Alice shook her head.

  ‘I don’t like them much,’ she said, ‘they’re too high up.’ Then she added helpfully, ‘I do ride a bike.’

  ‘A bike?’ Stephen Tyler asked, looking perplexed. Then, before any of them could attempt an explanation, he raised his hand. ‘Never mind. When a person first starts to ride – usually on a pony – they get on and trot along, as easy as anything. Then . . . they fall off. And, after that, it takes them ages to regain the skill and the confidence to . . . just ride.’ He emphasized the last two words. ‘Well, it is precisely the same with time travelling. When you first came up here, you were all so . . .’ he searched for the right words, ‘so . . . ready for anything . . . that you entered my world as much as I was entering yours. It was almost a mistake. You didn’t know how you did it. You didn’t even know what it was that had happened. Now – you want to time travel. That requires serious knowledge . . . and a lot of practice. You are not ready for it yet.’

  ‘And yet, they can inhabit, Master,’ Jasper hooted quietly. ‘The girl has flown with me. They have all travelled in the kestrel. There are innumerable examples of them inhabiting. Ask the dog . . .’

  ‘So?’ Stephen Tyler rapped the question at the owl. ‘What has inhabiting to do with it?’

  Jasper shrugged.

  ‘If the assistant can use his spies in this time, without being able to time travel himself . . . why shouldn’t the children be able to do likewise?’

  The Magician thought about this for a long moment.

  ‘Maybe. But it would be most irregular,’ he said at last. ‘I do not like to rush things.’ Then he turned and held out his good arm to them all. ‘Dear children. It is not that I don’t trust you. You have proved your worth to me. It is just that I am so . . . concerned that nothing wrong should occur. And yet,’ he sighed, ‘if Morden is progressing so fast, I may need you sooner than I thought. And, of course, tempus fugit! Who knows how much longer I have got? I will give this my serious consid—’ and there, in the middle of the sentence, he disappeared from them back into his own time.

  ‘He’s tired,’ Jasper explained. ‘He forgets he’s an old man.’ Then the owl looked out of the window at the gathering dusk. ‘Supper time. Anyone want to come?’

  But, strangely enough, all the children declined. Suddenly Phoebe’s vegetarian cooking seemed very attractive to them.

  4

  Some Very Bad News

  JACK RETURNED FROM the town on his own. He was so late that Phoebe had decided that they should start supper without him. They were halfway through the meal when they heard the Land-Rover drive into the yard.

  ‘Here they are!’ Phoebe exclaimed with relief. She had been concerned about them, because they’d been away so long.

  But it was only Jack who walked through the door, and the look on his face told them that he had had some very bad news.

  ‘What is it? What’s happened?’ Phoebe asked.

  ‘Where’s Meg?’ Mary enquired at the same moment.

  ‘I dropped her back at Four Fields,’ Jack said, crossing into the scullery and returning with a glass of beer.

  ‘Jack?’ Phoebe said again, spooning food on to a plate for him. ‘There’s something wrong. What’s happened?’

  ‘That man!’ Jack exclaimed. He was s
o angry that he could scarcely speak. Sitting down at his place at the table, he took a long drink of beer, then, shaking his head, he looked round the room. ‘Where’s Steph?’ he asked.

  ‘Sleeping – upstairs,’ Phoebe told him. ‘It’s very late. It’s all right. I’ve switched on the baby-minder. We’ll hear her if she needs us. Jack, what is it? What’s happened?’

  Jack sighed and took another gulp of beer. It was as though he was steadying himself before doing something that he dreaded.

  ‘That man!’ he said again. ‘That dreadful man!’

  Alice felt a cold shiver go down her back. Spot, who had been sleeping under her chair, sat up, listening, with his head on one side. Alice, almost without thinking, put her hand down and rested it lightly on his back.

  ‘Which man?’ Phoebe asked.

  ‘The solicitor, Martin Marsh . . . Sorry, it’s all been a bit of a shock!’

  ‘But – not for us, surely?’ Phoebe said. ‘Whatever’s happened . . . it’s got nothing to do with us . . . has it?’

  ‘A holiday leisure centre at Golden water? An amusement park? Speedboats on the lake? Holiday chalets and community rooms? Adventure tracks through the forest . . . including a “Wild West Trail” . . .?’ he said this last item with particular bitterness.

  ‘An Amusement Park?’ Phoebe repeated, her voice filled with disbelief. ‘Holiday chalets? Where? What are you talking about?’

  ‘At Goldenwater,’ Jack snapped at her. ‘I thought I’d made it perfectly clear.’

  ‘Please don’t lose your temper, Jack. Not with me. I wasn’t there. This is all new to us.’

  Jack sighed and ran his hands over his face.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s been a bit of a shock.’

  ‘They want to build a leisure park at Goldenwater?’ Phoebe said, trying to comprehend just what it was he was saying. ‘I don’t believe it. They can’t do this.’

  ‘They think they can,’ Jack said, pushing away the plate of food that Phoebe had served him, without having touched a morsel. ‘What’s more they say their research shows that the project will be very popular in the area. It will bring in jobs and “life” to the place,’ he said, emphasizing the word ‘life’.

  ‘Life?’ Phoebe cried, appalled at the statement. ‘What life? It’s teeming with life up there. Birds and butterflies and . . . What about the life that’s already there? What about the badgers?’ she cried, clutching now at straws.

  ‘The badgers?’ Jack exclaimed, sardonically. ‘Oh, don’t you worry! The badgers instantly became part of their grand scheme. Meg had only to mention them and Mr Marsh leapt at the idea. We mustn’t worry our heads about them. The badgers will be left safe and secure. They’ll become one of the features of the park. A regular badger watch will be organized for the guests. Parties of people led by a warden – like a safari park in Africa. Oh, yes – he was very enthusiastic when the badgers were mentioned. He said his clients would be delighted.’

  ‘Who are these people – his clients?’ Phoebe demanded, her temper rising. ‘What are their names?’

  ‘A firm called Playco UK. Martin Marsh has become their legal representative in this area. Playco!’ he spat the name. ‘Money-grubbing greedy little men.’ Then he took a deep breath and tried to speak more calmly. ‘They’re a new company, apparently. Their aim is to introduce the holiday theme park to this country as it has never been seen before. America’s Disney World will pale into insignificance by comparison. And Goldenwater has been chosen to be their first project.’

  There was a moment of stunned silence in the kitchen as they each considered Jack’s words.

  ‘But . . . they can’t. They can’t change Goldenwater . . .’ William said. ‘They mustn’t!’

  ‘Can we stop them, Uncle Jack?’ Mary asked.

  ‘Not us. They claim that what they propose won’t affect us in the least. Marsh had the nerve to say that we, having applied and got permission to run our hotel, have opened up the area. He said the theme park can only increase our trade and add to our success. In fact he’s making it appear that our plans for this place are what first alerted Playco to the potential of the area.’

  ‘How dare they?’ Phoebe exclaimed. ‘What a load of nonsense! Our plans? I can’t see how a country hotel – where people can come and be refreshed in the quiet beauty of Golden Valley – is in any way comparable to their vulgar fun fair ideas.’ Then she suddenly had another thought. ‘But – why did they want to see Meg?’

  ‘Ah, that’s the clincher, really. Meg’s land is in their way. They want to buy her out, so that they can put a road through. It’s the only suitable access to the site.’

  ‘Then that’s all right,’ Phoebe cried, trying to smile. ‘Meg will never sell to them.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jack agreed, grimly. ‘That’s what she told them.’

  ‘Well then, Jack?’

  ‘Do you have any idea how old Meg is?’ Jack asked her, almost losing his temper with her again.

  Phoebe shook her head as though she could see what was coming.

  ‘Seventy-three.’ Jack replied, quietly.

  ‘I thought she was just in her sixties,’ Phoebe said ‘She doesn’t look that old.’

  ‘How much longer can a seventy-three year old woman hope to survive on her own,’ Jack continued, ‘with no heating, no water, animals to feed – a farm to run? Besides, they told her they are prepared to wait, if they must. The money they’re offering for her land will certainly tempt the next owners if it doesn’t in the end tempt her.’

  ‘Money!’ Phoebe cried, her temper flaring. ‘Always money! We must stop these people. If they build at Goldenwater, then there’s no sense nor justice left in this country. What’s the next step? We’ve got to fight them, Jack.’

  ‘They’re a vast company, darling, They’ll have all the lawyers and all the backing . . . We don’t stand a chance.’

  ‘We won’t if that’s going to be your attitude from the start,’ Phoebe spat at him. ‘If that’s how you’re going to react, we may as well pack our bags now. Let’s sell them Golden House as well. They can run Ghost Hunts here and Magic Evenings. They can have Elizabethan Banquets and Medieval Jousts . . .’

  ‘Don’t suggest it to them!’ Jack said, reaching out a hand and smiling as he touched her arm. ‘They’ll leap at the ideas. And maybe they’ll make us an offer that we can’t refuse.’

  ‘There is no such offer,’ Phoebe cried. ‘I will not have people coming and ruining this place.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t like it here.’ Jack said, quietly.

  ‘I suddenly do,’ Phoebe spluttered the words and then took a deep breath, steadying herself.

  ‘You mean . . . people can really do this?’ William asked, horrified.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Disney World,’ Alice whispered.

  ‘Well, if you wait here long enough, it seems your wish will be granted. You’ll only have to set foot out of the door,’ Phoebe shouted at her, her temper blazing again.

  Alice looked at the table, and pushed out her lip. The attack was so sudden and unexpected it was as if she’d been struck in the face by Phoebe.

  ‘Hey!’ Jack cut in, ‘we mustn’t start fighting amongst ourselves. That won’t solve anything. We must save all our energies for the big fight.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ally,’ Phoebe exclaimed, sounding close to tears herself.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Alice said, in a small voice.

  ‘What’ll happen next, Uncle Jack?’ William asked.

  ‘There’s a public meeting in the town next week.’ Jack replied.

  ‘We must go to it,’ Phoebe said at once. ‘But – Meg will never sell,’ she added, clutching at straws again.

  ‘She doesn’t want to, of course, but they’ve offered her a lot of money,’ Jack said, quietly. ‘Enough to buy a little cottage in a village and be safe and secure for the rest of her life. She has nothing of her own. I can’t help feeling it would be a wise thing for her to do.�
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  ‘But – what would happen to her cows?’ Alice asked, sadly.

  ‘And the badgers . . . and everything?’ Mary said in a dejected voice.

  ‘She’d never leave the badgers,’ William agreed.

  They were all silent, as they each contemplated the unexpected and terrible news that Jack had brought them.

  5

  Taking Sides

  THE PROPOSED PLANS for Goldenwater were revealed in the local paper later that week. The headline on the front page read: ‘Holiday Centre will bring jobs to the area.’

  Dan, the younger of the two builders working on the house, had a copy tucked into the back pocket of his jeans and showed it to Jack as they went into the kitchen for coffee break. The children were already there, preparing a picnic with Phoebe’s help. They were going to spend the day up at the lake again and, this time, Phoebe and Stephanie were to accompany them.

  ‘It’s all right for some!’ Arthur, the older builder, said, referring to their lives of leisure, as he sucked noisily at a mug of tea.

  Jack was reading the article in the paper with increasing anger, but Dan told them he thought the plan was a good idea.

  ‘We need something going on round here,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing for us young people to do.’

  ‘You mean you want to go on Wild West Trails through the forest?’ Phoebe asked him in disbelief.

  ‘Well, maybe not that exactly,’ he agreed. ‘But a bowling alley and . . .’ he peered over Jack’s shoulder, reading from the paper, ‘speedboats on the lake . . .’

  ‘There are supposed to be otters in that lake,’ Phoebe told him. ‘How d’you think they’ll enjoy your speedboats?’

  Dan was a bit put out by this but argued that otters hadn’t been seen there for years.

  ‘Anyway,’ he continued. ‘what’s the difference between you running this place as a hotel and these other people opening up Goldenwater as a holiday camp? I don’t see the difference.’

  ‘You don’t mean you’re in favour of Goldenwater being turned into a theme park, Dan?’ William asked him, his voice sounding shocked. ‘You can’t be.’

  ‘’Course I am,’ Dan replied. ‘That’s what I’ve been saying, isn’t it? ‘Bout time something happened around here. It’s so dozy you have to kick yourself to know if you’re still alive or not.’