THE POWER AND THE FURY

by James Erith

  ‘Blimey, Kemp, this isn’t the time. Right now, I’ve literally got a nightmare on my hands. And anyway, you’re going to have to prove it. I’m not going to trust you until I know you mean what you say.’

  ‘What do you want me to do? I promise I won’t be nasty to either of your sisters. I’m going to put that behind me. I won’t even speak to them if you don’t want me to.’

  ‘But I bet you’ve already arranged with your Chitbury mates that Daisy’s going to get a kicking – haven’t you?’

  Kemp winced. ‘Well there’s not much I can do about that now, is there?’

  ‘And the only reason you’re being Mr Nice about it is because if they kick her out of the game we’ll lose and she won’t play in the team after half term, leaving room for someone else. And that person will probably be you.’

  Kemp’s expression had changed. ‘You know what, Archie,’ he spat. ‘I meant what I said. Just throw it back in my face, why don’t you.’

  On hearing raised voices, Mason and Wilcox instantly towered over Archie. Wilcox, with one huge hand, picked him up by his collar. ‘Back off boys, let him be,’ Kemp ordered. The muscle sloped reluctantly back to their desks.

  The classroom had fallen silent but Archie wasn’t finished. ‘See what I mean, Kemp,’ Archie fumed. ‘If you want to be my friend you’ve got a long way to go. I swore on my life that I wouldn’t tell anyone about the barometer and I kept my word. You ... well, frankly, you disgust me.’

  Archie was pretty astonished the words had spilled out of his mouth and for a moment the classroom stopped and stared at him.

  19

  Archie Spills It Out

  The spell was broken by the bell and, moments later, the upright figure of Mr Bellwood came striding in, twiddling the ends of his moustache.

  ‘As you know,’ he boomed, ‘there is no class-work today.’ He stared around the room. ‘Gosh,’ he continued in a softer voice. ‘Silence! Oh, hallelujah!’

  The classroom remained silent.

  ‘Have I missed something?’ Bellwood continued, as his eyes flashed from pupil to pupil trying to make out what had caused this unusual lack of noise. ‘No? Very well.’ He peered at his notes. ‘Our school day looks like this; footie for those playing footie and that’s, de Lowe, de Lowe, Nugent, Allen and Alexander. Can I have hands up for those who are likely to be watching.’ The whole class except for Kemp, Mason and Wilcox thrust their hands into the air.

  ‘Excellent. I take it you have other things to be getting on with, Mason?’

  Mason shrugged.

  ‘You know, you three aren’t the best advert for this school and today is what we like to call an “open day”.’ Bellwood said very slowly. ‘It means we should all be on our best behaviour for the parents and prospective parents who are coming to visit us because they are thinking of sending their children here.’

  Kemp stole a glance at Archie, who was still looking troubled. Just beyond him was Williams who was smiling his big toothy smile straight back at him and raising his eyebrows. Was Williams trying to provoke him with his eyebrows? He put his hand up.

  ‘Yes, Kemp.’

  ‘Actually, I’m watching the football as well,’ he said.

  ‘A change of heart, huh, Kemp.’

  ‘Sure, you could say that.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad to hear it.’

  Kemp caught Williams’ bulging eyes again. He knew exactly what he was implying.

  ‘So Wilcox and Mason, just you two. Correct?’ They nodded dumbly. ‘In that case, you will report to Mr Pike in the Maintenance Department. There are leaves to sweep up and fences to paint.’ On cue, the class burst out laughing. Mr Bellwood waited until the noise was bearable. ‘Come on. Simmer down. Mr Pike is expecting you to be ready for work at kick off time, which will be eleven o’clock precisely.’

  Mr Bellwood hitched up his jacket sleeve and cocked his arm as though he was showing off a priceless treasure. ‘By my watch, the time is approaching half past nine,’ he said crisply. ‘This means that after I have dismissed you, you will have a long free period. Please use this for last minute drama rehearsals, like learning your lines, Mr Ford, or practising your clarinet, Miss Buxton, or for recital practice before the programme this afternoon, Mr Anderson.’

  Mr Bellwood stuck his nose in the air and twitched his moustache. It was a signal that he was going to say something profound. ‘Now, about the weather. There is a rather large cloud brrrewing right above us,’ and as he said this he rolled the ‘r’ rather dramatically and then repeated the word, ‘brrrewing.’

  It was Bellwood’s habit of dramatising a word for effect. ‘To rest your minds, our headmaster has been in touch with the Met Office to find out if this might be a cause for concern. I am happy to report that, as far as they know, there are no serious worries. This morning and this afternoon, there is a high chance that we may get a little wet, indeed there may even be a possibility of a heavy downpour. Nevertheless, all school activities are to go on as scheduled.

  ‘Daisy de Lowe, please remove that lipstick from your desk. Now remember, class, just in case lightning strikes, what would be the best course of action to take? Anyone. Ah, yes, Alexander?’

  ‘Put up your umbrella, Sir.’

  ‘No, you do not, Alexander. And stop laughing. And Allen will you desist from flicking paper balls at Daisy please.’ He glared at the boys, ‘Umbrellas, as you know perfectly well, are for repelling water. I’m talking about lightning strikes.’

  Bellwood raised his eyebrows in anticipation. ‘Kemp, what would you do?’

  ‘I’d get the hell out of there before I was shrivelled to a burnt crisp.’

  The class laughed.

  ‘Well, it’s better than holding up an umbrella, but where would you go?’

  Little Jimmy Nugent put up his hand.

  ‘Yes, Nugent.’

  ‘I’ve been told that if you get in a car the rubber tyres would earth the strike, wouldn’t it, sir?’

  Mr Bellwood clasped his hands together. ‘Very good, Nugent, and you’re absolutely correct. Either get indoors or hop in a car—’

  ‘My granddad,’ Nugent continued, ‘got killed by a bolt of lightning in 1983, while walking his bull terrier called Plank—’

  ‘Did he, Nugent?’ Mr Bellwood sensed one of Nugent’s stories coming on. ‘How very fascinating. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me about it after half term.’

  He turned back to the pupils. ‘Now, class, do the best you can today and make us all proud, and have a safe half term. You are dismissed.’

  The pupils instantly divided into several small groups, except Archie who remained in his chair twiddling his pencil.

  Kemp came over to him again. ‘Come on, Archie, it can’t be that bad.’

  ‘You have no idea,’ Archie replied. ‘Really, you would never, ever believe me.’

  ‘Try me.’

  Archie sighed. What did he have to lose? But then again, where should he start? Who on earth would believe a story about a ghost. ‘OK,’ he began. ‘If you really want to know, I was visited in the night by something that, as far as I could tell, was a ghost.’

  ‘A ghost?’ Kemp chuckled. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes,’ Archie fired back. ‘I told you you wouldn’t believe me.’

  Kemp eyed him suspiciously and raised his hands. ‘Sorry. Don’t worry about me ... carry on.’

  Archie rubbed his forehead. ‘Well, this ghost promised me stuff if I met up with him.’

  ‘Yeah? What did you say?’

  ‘I kind of agreed. I mean, what would you do?

  ‘I’d probably agree too,’ Kemp said. ‘Was it a nice ghost or a nasty ghost?’

  ‘Bit of both, I think, although it was wielding a knife, but at the same time I’m pretty sure it wanted to help.’

  ‘Well that’s alright,’ Kemp said, sounding like an authority on the subject. ‘So it had a knife and it didn’t kill you. That’s a start – where were you going to meet up?’
/>
  ‘That’s the problem, I can’t remember. I thought it was a dream, so I agreed to everything and said the first thing that came into my head. ‘

  ‘So what makes you think it wasn’t a dream?’

  Archie pointed at the coat. ‘This.’

  Kemp looked at it. ‘An old overcoat! Bleeding heck, Archie.’ Kemp wondered if Archie hadn’t entirely lost his marbles.

  ‘I know,’ Archie said, quickly realising it must sound idiotic, ‘but I swear it’s the same coat the ghost was wearing. Look at those buttons with the snake slipping up a tree.’

  Kemp thrust out his jaw and furrowed his brow. ‘How do you know it isn’t Old Man Whatshisface’s?’

  ‘Old Man Wood,’ Archie said. ‘His name is “Old Man Wood”.’

  ‘Yeah right, chill your boots.’ Kemp held the coat up in the air. ‘I mean it’s pretty big – about his size – are you sure he wasn’t ... giving it to you? You know, offloading it before he took it to the charity shop.’

  Archie shook his head. ‘No, definitely not. Old Man Wood doesn’t have that many clothes, certainly not an overcoat like this one. Anyway, there’s more.’

  ‘More? Great.’

  Archie turned his head and indicated the cut on his chin. ‘Look at this.’ Kemp leant in. ‘It’s from the blade of the knife I was telling you about—’

  ‘From the ghost?’

  Archie nodded.

  Kemp inspected it. ‘Nah, I don’t believe you, you could have got that from a bramble or a branch when you ran to school yesterday.’

  Archie shook his head. ‘No, honest to God, it definitely arrived in the middle of the night.’

  ‘You one hundred percent sure?’

  Archie nodded.

  Kemp guffawed. ‘Ghosts don’t carry things like knives or hit people. Everyone knows that.’

  ‘This one did,’ Archie said.

  Kemp was trying not to laugh and only just managed to restrain himself. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Archie, but it doesn’t stack up. Why would a ghost want to harm you?’

  Archie thought for a minute. ‘To prove it was real, I suppose.’ Archie felt in the coat pocket and slowly withdrew the knife, shielding it from prying eyes with his hands.

  ‘Look.’

  Kemp’s eyes fell to the gap under the desk where Archie held the knife and he swore under his breath. ‘Blimey Archie, that’s a beauty.’ Kemp could hardly prise his eyes away. ‘So what did this ghost say?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s where it gets a bit blurry,’ Archie began. ‘He said he was on a mission to save his mother, that she was going to die and that I had to help protect her at all cost.’

  ‘Epic. Sounds good to me,’ Kemp said. ‘I’d do anything to protect my mother.’

  Archie realised he’d hit a raw nerve. ‘Sorry, Kemp. I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Chill, Archie, I know you didn’t.’ Kemp was intrigued. ‘So what’s in it for you?’

  ‘Well, as I said, a partnership of some sort. I told you, I can’t really remember. I’d find out at this meeting but,’ Archie laughed and turned a little red. ‘Thing is I think I said I’d meet him bang in the middle of the football match – not that I’d go anyway.’

  Kemp chuckled. ‘Your planning skills are very poor, Archie.’

  Archie ignored him. ‘Somewhere along the line, he was banging on about power and strength or something equally crazy.’ He shook his head. ‘Oh, I can’t remember.’ He thumped the desk. ‘Maybe it’s my lack of sleep?’

  Kemp was intrigued but also a little worried about his friend. It might be madness and completely made up, but you had to hand it to them, these de Lowes were nothing less than interesting.

  Archie studied Kemp’s face, and quickly reached a conclusion. ‘You think it’s bollocks, don’t you?’ He put his head in his hands. ‘I’ve been sucked in, haven’t I?’

  Kemp shrugged. ‘Probably your Old Man thingy playing a joke or something—’

  ‘Or perhaps a hallucination from one of his strange apples – or another nightmare?’ Archie added.

  ‘Yeah,’ Kemp said as though it was perfectly normal. He’d heard about the old man’s curious apple collection. ‘Probably one of those – can’t believe you didn’t see it all along.’ He slapped Archie on the back. ‘You ought to be getting along, don’t want to miss your warm-up.’

  Archie cocked his head and looked at his watch. ‘RATS! Is that the time?’ He started gathering his bits together. ‘Hey, Kemp, thanks for the chat – please don’t think I’ve turned into a nutter – and promise me, you won’t tell anyone about this?’

  ‘You de Lowes are all nutters,’ Kemp said. ‘But you, Archie, are the only one worth their salt.’

  Archie noted the look in his eyes had gone cold. Maybe he was bored or had turned his thoughts to Daisy.

  Archie ran to the door. ‘See you later.’

  Kemp winked. ‘Sure.’

  Kemp shook his head. Those de Lowes are properly nuts. There’s something distinctly odd, unsettling and eccentric about them. If it wasn’t strange scientific experiments or an infatuation with ghosts or girls being brilliant at games designed for men, it was some other random thing, like extraordinary disorganisation, or manic recklessness.

  Mr Bellwood re-appeared. ‘Time to lock up the classroom,’ he said. ‘Please gather your things as it won’t re-open until after half term. Make sure you take everything you need.’

  Chairs scraped against the floor as the remaining students stood up. Kemp slipped into his overcoat and gathered the contents of his desk, dropping them haphazardly in his bag. He tucked in his chair and headed towards the door with the others.

  ‘Kemp,’ Mr Bellwood called out, ‘haven’t you forgotten something?’

  Kemp looked puzzled.

  ‘Your coat?’

  Kemp hesitated. ‘Oh, yeah. Sorry, wasn’t thinking.’ It was a little odd that Bellwood hadn’t spotted he was wearing his own coat in the first place. Oh well, he’d take it for Archie, and give it back later. He returned to the chair, picked up the coat and put it on over the one he already had on. Then he saw the slip of paper on the desk in Archie’s scrawny handwriting. Kemp scanned it for a second and noticed the underlined location. It must be where he was meeting this so-called ghost. Kemp read it again, folded it up and put it in his pocket.

  ‘Jolly good,’ said Mr Bellwood running his hand over his chin. ‘Now, let’s go and watch that football match, shall we.’

  20

  A Storm Is Coming

  Archie tore around the corridor when he almost collided with Daisy. She was talking with her girlfriends.

  Archie reddened. ‘Daisy, er sorry, but shouldn’t we be getting ready?’

  ‘Oh, I thought we had plenty of time.’ She studied her watch. ‘It’s only just gone ten – we’ve got at least half an hour, haven’t we?’

  Archie reddened even more and shook his wrist. Stupid watch. ‘Yes. Sure. Right, yeah – of course, er ... whatever.’ It wasn’t going well. Why did he feel so intimidated around groups of girls? Individually they were fine but a pack of them scared him to death. ‘Look, I’m going to see if I can find Isabella. Want to join me?’

  ‘No. Not really.’

  Archie’s face went purple. ‘Please,’ he squeaked.

  Daisy caught his eye, turned and addressed the girls. ‘OK ladies,’ she said, ‘I’m off to do battle with those big, bad, beastly boys and kick the house down.’ They shrieked their approval. ‘Wish me luck.’

  Each of the girls made a big play of kissing her on her cheek and then broke into a chant;

  ‘GO, GO Daisy de Lowe! GO, GO Daisy de Lowe! GO, GO Daisy de Lowe! Go Daisy! Go Daisy! GO Daisy …’

  Daisy put one hand in the air as she waltzed away, her other fluffed up her wavy blonde hair and she wiggled her hips.

  Archie put his head down, trying to ignore his sister, although it was virtually impossible. How would anyone believe Daisy was such a talented footballer when she hung out with
the “chicks” and did idiotic dances like this?

  As the twins turned the corner the chanting changed to the old Queen anthem: ‘D-D-L, D-D-L, D-D-L – SHE WILL, SHE WILL ROCK YOU!’

  ‘You coping, Arch?’ she said. ‘You’re very glum-faced.’

  ‘Moron-faced, more like.’

  ‘Oh no, what have you done now?’

  Archie groaned. ‘Oh, Daisy. I think I’ve done something insanely foolish. I told Kemp about my nightmare. He must think I’ve totally lost the plot. I don’t know why I did it. He’ll probably tell everyone, like he usually does.’ Archie caressed his temples with his fingers. ‘It’s social suicide.’

  ‘Yup.’ Daisy pinched him playfully on the cheek. ‘When will you ever learn? He’s a jerk and you’re best off keeping well away.’

  They found Isabella in the physics lab with Sue, running over an experiment, their heads buried in some calculations.

  Daisy was full of bounce. ‘Ready to go, girls?’ she said.

  Her jollity didn’t really have the same effect on the science students.

  ‘Daisy,’ Isabella said, in her most serious tone. ‘I want you to wear these, on your boots.’

  Daisy looked at her in amazement. ‘On my bits?’

  ‘Don’t be so stupid. Your football boots.’

  She fingered the rubbery, gooey material. ‘What is it?’

  Isabella peeled off her lab glasses. ‘In short, it’s a de-energising unit we’ve created.’

  ‘A what-erising-humit?’ Daisy said. ‘Why?’

  ‘Just in case, that’s why.’

  ‘I don’t understand?’

  ‘Just do it, will you,’ Isabella demanded. ‘One for each boot.’ She handed her a second one. ‘You too, Archie.’

  Archie studied it. ‘What’s it for?’

  Isabella squealed. ‘In case either of you gets hit by lightning. It might help, that’s all.’

  Archie stuck the strips to the soles of his boots. ‘Aren’t you’re taking this a bit far—’

  A huge roll of thunder shook the building. The windows rattled and the children’s hair stood on end. They looked at each other.