by Roger Hurn
Frustration clouded Will’s face. ‘God’s wounds, doest thou take us for simpletons? ‘Tis the year of Our Lord thirteen hundred and seventy-seven.’
***
Chapter Two
Ritchie’s mouth fell open and he stared at Lizzie in disbelief. ‘He’s kidding, right?’
Lizzie didn’t take her eyes off Will as she answered her brother. ‘‘No, I don’t think so. I think these guys really believe they’re who they say they are.’
Ritchie felt his hold on the situation begin to slip away from him like air from a punctured balloon. He made a despairing effort to try and wrench it back by appealing to Lizzie’s common sense.
‘Oh, come on, Lizzie. Ok, so they might believe it but we don’t have to. There has to be some other explanation. I mean think about it for a second will you? How could they get from 1377 to today? It’s just not possible.’
But Lizzie’s mind was kicking into overdrive. She was convinced that Will and Alice were genuine but now she had to find a way to answer her brother’s big objection. Then it came to her.
‘Well … I think it might be. You see, my class did a history project on folklore last term. There’re loads of old stories about people who go into fairyland for what they think is a day yet, when they come back, hundreds of years have past. All their family and friends are dead, but they haven’t aged a bit. I bet that’s what’s happened to Alice and Will.’
Ritchie remembered doing the same project when he was Lizzie’s age. He’d thought it was a load of tosh at the time but now, looking at Alice and Will, he wasn’t so sure. In fact, he had a sinking feeling that Lizzie might just be right about these two and about how they ended up in the middle of Piper’s Wood. And that meant that his quiet life was just about to get an awful lot more complicated - but not in a good way.
‘The big question,’ said Lizzie, ‘is how are we going to break the news to them?’
Ritchie glanced across at the two children. ‘Err … by the look on their faces I’d say they’ve already got an inkling that they’re up to their necks in the brown stuff.’
Will and Alice were stunned. They had no idea where they were but they understood enough of Lizzie and Ritchie’s conversation to realise that they were in a place far from their home. It was all too much for Alice. Large tears welled up in her eyes and slowly ran down her cheeks. Then Will started to shake uncontrollably. He shook his fist at Lizzie and Ritchie and began shouting. His anger and his terror made his already nearly incomprehensible accent impossible to understand.
Ritchie glared at his sister. ‘We got to shut him up while we figure out what the hell we’re going to do with them.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Time for some TLC I think.’ She stepped over to Alice and held her close while the girl sobbed violently.
‘Great,’ said Ritchie to himself. ‘So that’ll be me who’s got to deal with the nutter then.’
But when Ritchie reached out to him, Will knocked Ritchie’s outstretched hand away. He shouted something that sounded to Ritchie’s ears suspiciously like, ‘Be gone, thou loathsome misbegotten coward.’ Then he slumped down onto the path. He buried his head in his hands and rocked back and forth muttering as he did so. This was a result as far as Ritchie was concerned.
‘Don’t worry, mate. We’ll sort this flaming mess out somehow,’ he murmured.
‘Yeah, too right we will. But how?’ Lizzie was speaking to him over the top of Alice’s head as she clasped the girl to her.
‘Well, I guess we’d better start by telling Mum and Dad.’
‘Oh, brilliant. Then they’ll call Social Services who’ll come and take Alice and Will away.’
‘Well, maybe that’s for the best,’ replied Ritchie doubtfully. ‘I mean if Will and Alice really are from the olden days then someone in authority’s going to have to check them out properly.’
‘Oh yeah, right. Like you’d want to be taken to some hospital and have psychologists and doctors treating you as if you were nuts.’
‘They wouldn’t do that.’
Lizzie shook her head impatiently.
‘Listen, what adult’s going to believe that Alice and Will are really from the 14th century? They’re going to pump them full of drugs and stuff. We can’t let that happen. And anyway we’ve got to help them find the rest of the children the Piper snatched and get them back to their own time.’
Ritchie wasn’t convinced. ‘Do we? Who says so?’
Lizzie sighed in exasperation and shook her head. ‘What’s your problem, Ritchie? These kids are in real trouble. If we don’t help them no-one will. And I’m not giving up on them. So, are you in on this thing with me or not?’
Ritchie looked from his sister to Will and Alice and back to Lizzie again. He seemed to take an age before making up his mind. ‘Yeah, of course I am,’ he said at last. ‘But, if they really are who they say they are, then this creepy Piper guy is bound to be coming after them. And no way do I fancy getting mixed up with him.’
Lizzie stared at her brother. ‘You’re not scared are you, Ritchie?’
‘No,’ he snapped back. ‘It’s just that we’ve got to watch our backs.’
‘Obviously!’ Every muscle in Lizzie’s face was clenched tight with determination. ‘So that’s all the more reason we should stop dithering and smuggle Will and Alice out of this wood and back to our house before the Piper turns up.’
‘But what about Mum and Dad?’ said Ritchie. ‘What are we going to say to them when they get home from work?’ He was trying hard to keep the note of panic from his voice.
‘That’s easy,’ replied Lizzie, ‘we don’t say anything. We’ll hide Alice and Will up in the den and tell them to keep quiet. Mum and Dad’ll never suspect a thing. Unless you’ve a better idea.’
Ritchie didn’t so he shrugged. He hated it when his sister took charge. She was a year younger than him but could be really bossy at times. It’s OK for her, he thought, but I’ll be the one who gets the blame if it all goes wrong.
‘Right, then,’ he said. ‘We’d better get these two up and moving.’
Their wave of violent emotion having passed, both Alice and Will were now passive but biddable. Lizzie took Alice’s hand and led her down the path towards the edge of the wood. Will walked next to them. He leaned in protectively towards the two girls but couldn’t stop himself from glancing back over his shoulder every two or three steps. Ritchie stood and watched them go. Lizzie and Alice had their heads close together and it seemed as if they were talking while Will listened. Yeah, that’s Lizzie, thought Ritchie. She can charm the birds out of the trees when she wants to. What a shame that she’s such a brat most of the time.
Then the sharp sound of a stick breaking somewhere off in the woods startled him. He spun round and peered hard into the gloom underneath the trees. The shadows seemed to move with a life of their own. Suddenly, being alone didn’t seem such a great option. He sprinted after the others but he didn’t call out or look back over his shoulder.
Seconds after Ritchie vanished from sight a figure stepped out onto the path. He was dressed like a tramp with an old woolly hat pulled down over his long, greasy hair. His scruffy overcoat swept down to his feet and his boots were cracked and worn. He paused to brush away the leaves and brambles that were clinging to him. Then he glanced up and down the path and sniffed the air like a wolf searching for the scent of its prey. After a moment, he nodded his head and strode off briskly in the same direction that the children had taken.
***
Chapter Three
Lizzie did her best to prepare Alice and Will for the shock of walking out of Piper’s Wood into the 21st century. By now she found she had really tuned into their accents and could understand the children quite well. They too seemed to follow what she was saying but words like aeroplane and car had them shaking their heads. Where’s Ritchie? she thought to herself. I could do with a bit of help here.
As if he had read her mind, Ritchie came hurtling up behind them.
‘I think we’re being followed,’ he gasped.
‘Who by?’ asked Lizzie.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t wait around to find out. Come on let’s leg it.’
He dashed out from the wood and across the field to the main road with the others hard on his heels. They scrambled over the style and jumped down onto the grass verge. Before Lizzie could stop her, Alice stepped out onto the tarmac. She stared down at it in wonder. The road was so different from the muddy tracks of her own time.
‘Grab her, Ritchie,’ screamed Lizzie as a truck came trundling along round the bend.
Ritchie reached out and pulled Alice back onto the verge just as the heavy vehicle roared past them with diesel smoke belching from its exhaust. Alice screamed and Will stood frozen in terror.
‘It’s all right’ said Ritchie soothingly. ‘It’s only a lorry.’
Alice turned to Lizzie, her face blanched ghost white with shock. ‘Here there be dragons,’ she said accusingly.
Lizzie smiled reassuringly. ‘Sort of,’ she said, ‘but dragons are our friends. They won’t harm you.’
‘Well, they will if you step out in front of them without looking,’ said Ritchie.
‘Leave it, Ritchie. You’re not helping.’ Despite her words, Lizzie’s voice and smile were as bright and breezy as a TV Game Show host’s. She knew that Alice and Will were only a heartbeat away from total panic. ‘Come on, let’s go home,’ she urged.
But before they could move, Will pointed up at the sky. A low flying jet was passing overhead.
‘Look there, an iron bird. What witchcraft is this?’ He crossed himself while Alice made the sign against the evil eye.
‘It’s an aeroplane,’ said Lizzie gently. ‘Remember I told you about them? Now you’ve seen one.’
Will and Alice stood there trembling like leaves in a gale when two cars and a motorbike swept past on the road behind them. Will moaned and covered his ears with his hands while Alice started to weep.
‘Ritchie, we’ve got to do something,’ said Lizzie frantically. ‘Otherwise they’re going to lose it big-time.’
‘That’s not all we’ve got to worry about.’ Ritchie was staring back across the field. ‘Some bloke’s just come out of Piper’s Wood and he’s heading in our direction. I don’t know about you, Lizzie, but I don’t like the look of him.’
Lizzie wasn’t about to argue. Without further ado she dragged Alice across the road and Ritchie did the same with Will. They ducked through a gap in the hedge and pulled the reluctant and very frightened children with them.
Lizzie kept talking to them in a soothing voice and, although both Will and Alice were stunned, they didn’t struggle or resist as Lizzie and Ritchie hurried them across the recreation ground and into the housing estate where they lived. Just as they ducked down the narrow passageway that led to the streets of executive houses that made up Cherry Tree Estate, Lizzie glanced nervously back over her shoulder. Her heart sank as she saw the tramp squeezing through the hedge. It was clear that he was in hot pursuit of them.
***
Chapter Four
Ritchie fumbled with his key at the front door while Lizzie begged him to hurry up and open it. She expected the sinister tramp to appear at the end of the cul-de-sac at any moment. But, so far, there was no sign of him.
After what seemed to her like an eternity, Ritchie managed to fit his key into the lock and they all tumbled inside the house and slammed the door shut. Lizzie peered out through the peephole.
‘Can you see him?’ asked Ritchie.
‘No,’ replied Lizzie. ‘But I’m …
A bellow from Ritchie stopped her from finishing her sentence.
‘Oi! Where do you two think you’re going?’
Instead of staying put in the hallway, Will and Alice had wandered into the front room and were looking around in amazement. Their terror momentarily forgotten as the, to their eyes, unbelievable luxury of a modern detached executive home swamped their senses. Lizzie and Ritchie however were still alive to the danger they were in.
‘Lizzie, the flipping blinds are up. The whole flaming world can see Alice and Will through the windows. Move it!’ Ritchie and Lizzie dived across the room and grabbed at the window blinds and frantically pulled them down.
Gingerly, Ritchie raised one of the slats and peeked out. He let out an extended sigh.
‘Phew. There’s no one out there. I think we’ve managed to give that creep the slip for now.’
Lizzie closed her eyes in relief. ‘Oh, Ritchie, that was like such a really close call. And that guy was well spooky. I was sure that …’
But once more, Lizzie was unable to complete her sentence as this time it was drowned by a gale of giggles. She turned and saw Alice and Will bouncing up and down on the sofa.
‘Faith, art thy parents gentry?’ asked Will. ‘Not even King Edward himself lives in such splendour.’
‘Not exactly,’ said Lizzie. She looked over at Ritchie. ‘But maybe a guided tour will help calm these two down and take their minds off whoever is out there after them.’
Ritchie agreed and so the children spent the next twenty minutes showing Alice and Will all the wonders of a modern home. They started in the kitchen. Just seeing the hot and cold running water from the taps left Alice and Will speechless; the electric lights and the gas hob had them shaking their heads in wonder but when Lizzie and Ritchie went on to demonstrate the plasma screen TV and the DVD player they nearly fainted.
‘Tis powerful witchcraft,’ declared Will. Methinks that thy magick will defeat e’een the devil begotten spawn who bewitched us.’
‘Don’t count on it,’ said Ritchie. ‘Anyway, it’s science not magic. People have discovered loads of stuff since you guys were alive.’
Alice and Will stared suspiciously at him.
‘I struggle to understand your brother,’ said Alice. ‘But we are not dead. Why does he say we are?’
Lizzie sighed. ‘You couldn’t be more useless if you tried, could you Ritchie?’
With some difficulty she persuaded Alice and Will to sit back down on the sofa and carefully and patiently explained to them that an awful lot had changed in the world since 1377, including the fact that the French army had invaded the Isle of Wight just after the Piper had stolen the children. She couldn’t avoid telling them that the French troops had burned Francheville to the ground.
‘When the people rebuilt it, they called it Newtown,’ she said.
Naturally enough, Alice and Will took the news badly. They wanted to know what had happened to their families but neither Lizzie nor Ritchie had any idea.
‘But I’m certain they must have escaped,’ said Lizzie firmly.
‘The history books only say that the French soldiers set fire to the houses, not that they killed anyone.’
‘That’s right,’ put in Ritchie trying to back up his sister. ‘They must have survived because they came back after the French were driven off and built the town again.’
Alice and Will looked doubtful.
‘Perhaps you say sooth,’ said Alice,’ But we have only been gone from home for a few days. How can so much time have passed here?’
Ritchie shrugged. ‘Good question,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you tell us where the Piper took you after he kidnapped you? Perhaps that will give us some kind of clue.’
‘Brilliant idea, Ritchie,’ said Lizzie. ‘But it can wait until we’ve sorted out some of our clothes for them to wear. They do kind of stink. Mum and Dad are going to think that the cat’s brought in a dead rat and left it behind the sofa. So we need to get rid of their old stuff like immediately.’
The children then agreed that new clothes would be useless to disguise the smell of two unwashed visitors from the 14th century unless Alice and Will had a bath. So, Lizzie escorted Alice into her parents’ en-suite bathroom while Ritchie showed Will how the shower worked in the guest bathroom.
Alice took to the whole idea immediately. She loved the scent of the
oils that Lizzie tipped into the hot bath water and the two girls giggled and chatted while Lizzie showed her how to wash her hair with shampoo then dry it with the hair dryer.
Ritchie, on the other hand, had a more difficult task as Will developed a fascination with the flush toilet. An embarrassed Ritchie had, by way of a clumsy mime, demonstrated what it was for. Will was shocked to discover that in the 21st century people went to the lavatory indoors and not in a pit out in the garden. Then he found it almost beyond belief that instead of using leaves people wiped their bottoms with soft paper. To Ritchie’s horror, Will couldn’t wait to try it out. Now it was Ritchie’s turn to learn something. He discovered that nobody bothered much about privacy in Will’s day, so he beat a hasty retreat to the safety of the hallway while Will, with no sense of embarrassment, pulled down his hose and under breeches and plonked himself on the bowl.
When Ritchie ventured back into the room he saw Will was engrossed in pushing the button on the cistern and watching the water swirl mucky toilet paper away. Ritchie grabbed the air freshener and the scent of wild flowers replaced the reek. Will turned to Ritchie with a glowing face. ‘Magick!’ he said with obvious approval.
However, he wasn’t so keen when it came to standing under the shower and scrubbing himself with soap. The only way Ritchie could persuade him that it was perfectly safe and that he wouldn’t drown was by actually having a shower himself. Then, when Will finally did step into the cabinet he screamed because he accidentally bashed against the mixer control turning the water jet temperature from just right to scalding hot. Ritchie wrenched open the shower cabinet door and attempted to readjust the setting. Will, who blamed Ritchie for his plight, gave him a shove at the vital moment and the lever went round to cold sending a torrent of freezing water over them both. Things went from bad to worse when the shampoo went in Will’s eyes and he dropped the bottle spilling its gloopy contents everywhere.