by Nikki Young
“And did you know everyone goes home at lunch? There’s no canteen here,” Tomma said.
That shouldn’t have come as any surprise. The building housing the dining hall didn’t even exist, so it was no shock to find the school didn’t provide lunches.
“Oh, I’m starving,” Jess said, feeling instantly disappointed. “I didn’t have time to make anything this morning.”
“Have you got anything?” Nadia said to the boys.
They both nodded.
“Then you can share all of ours, Jess,” she said. “I’m sure we can sort you something out between us.”
There was no discussion. What Nadia said brokered no argument. The boys didn’t look too happy about the thought of sharing their food. They were starving too, but they weren’t mean enough to not share anything with Jess.
*
“So, what do we do now? I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of my life. I doubt they’re going to have hairdryers and decent make-up in this age,” Nadia complained.
“Well, we have to find out what’s going on,” Jess said. “And how to get out of here!”
“You know anything about time travel, then?” Tomma asked. “It was that train wasn’t it? And probably the power cut making us late so we had no choice but to get on that carriage.”
Jess looked at Nadia, remembering their conversation from earlier. She’d been in denial about it all morning, but really, she knew deep down, it wasn’t a dream. This was real.
“Crawford kept talking about the King and how he would be proud of the Hickley Boys for doing their bit towards the war effort,” Tomma said, his face set in a serious expression.
“The King?” Jess said. “What year does that make it then?” “Well, we’re in a war and we know it’s before Queen Elizabeth’s time,” Tomma said.
“Was Elizabeth queen in the Second World War?” asked Jess.
“No, I don’t think so. She was quite young then, wasn’t she?” Tomma said.
“So, how are we going to find out what war we’ve landed in the middle of?” Nadia said.
“Don’t you think it’s weird the teachers know our names?” said Ash. He seemed to have drifted off into his own world, looking out over the allotment.
“That’s what me and Jess were saying!” said Nadia. “We even had notebooks with our names on them. But we do come to this school. Maybe we’re on the register no matter what time zone we’re in?”
They all looked at each other.
“Let’s go to the office and see if we can find anything with the date on,” Tomma said. Ash slapped him on the back in approval.
“Shouldn’t we go to the train station and see if we can get home?” Jess said, feeling suddenly like she was going to cry. By now, she wasn’t interested what year it was anymore. She was more concerned about how and if they were ever going to get home. And it wasn’t as though she cared about hairdryers and make-up, more about being stuck in another time and never seeing her family again.
“We can do that later, Jess, aren’t you even a little bit interested? I mean, come on, how often do you get to go back in time?” Nadia said, her eyes were shining.
Jess had no choice but to follow them, they were so much more curious and adventurous than she was and there was no chance she was going to let them leave her on her own.
Chapter 9
Making A Discovery
The office was deserted. It seemed everyone, including the staff, left for the lunch break and it gave the whole place an eerie feeling.
“Wow, it’s like stepping into a museum,” Nadia said, walking around, brushing her hands lightly over everything she passed.
The school office, normally kitted out with computers, printers and filing cabinets, was instead adorned with a beautiful dark wooden desk, topped with green leather. In the centre sat a typewriter, something Jess had only ever seen in a picture. Framed posters covered the walls. They had slogans written on them like ‘Your Country Needs You’ and ‘He did his duty, will you do yours?’ and there was a man with a thick moustache pointing his finger out towards whoever was looking at it. The room smelled of stale cigarette smoke.
“It’s so creepy, isn’t it?” Jess said, moving closer to Nadia. “I feel like we’re snooping in on something we’re not supposed to.”
“Well, we are technically,” Nadia said. “I doubt pupils are allowed in here unless invited. It looks all formal and business-like. You’d think they were running the war from in here, not a school.”
“Look, I’ve found something,” Tomma said. He pointed to a document on the desk. The date read November the eighth.
“We already know that’s today’s date,” Ash said, rolling his eyes. “We need to know the year.”
“There are some notices on the board here,” Jess said, moving over to the other side of the room.
On the wall opposite the desk was a large notice board, wooden-framed and made of cork. There was a notice on it that read ‘News from Hickley Old Boys’ and it had a list of names, each one with a sentence or two about what had happened to them. Some had been shot, another had suffered gas-shell poisoning and there were various injuries mentioned, sustained whilst in ‘the trenches.’ Jess peered closely at the dates.
“1915, 1916, 1917, 1918. It’s the First World War,” Jess said.
“So, today is November eighth at some point during the First World War, probably 1918 by the looks of this,” Nadia said.
“For some reason, we were meant to get on that train late this morning, so we could come back to this moment in time, but ‘why?’” Tomma said. He looked thoughtful, as he bit on his bottom lip, staring at nothing in particular.
For Tomma, having an answer to a question was always the most important thing. Having been one of those toddlers who’d constantly asked, “Why?” he’d taken that curiosity and need-to-know into his childhood and beyond.
Jess shivered. “I don’t like the sound of that. What if we can’t get back until we’ve done whatever it is, we’re supposed to do?”
The others looked at her, blank expressions on each of their faces. They didn’t know the answer to that either.
*
Needing to get outside, they all went back to the yard to have their lunch. Even though it was cold outside with the sharp November air piercing through the low winter sunshine, it was easier to breathe.
The feeling of being trapped was so strong when they were in the school, especially after having just found out they’d gone back in time, to the end of a war that had had an obvious and profound effect on the local people. Not only were people struggling to find enough to eat, they had also lost friends, family and loved ones for a cause none of them likely really cared for or understood. It was difficult to get your head around it, but once she’d eaten and taken in some fresh air, Jess felt a little better. She even felt brave enough to take a walk around the deserted building with Nadia.
It’s strange to encounter something so familiar yet completely different at the same time. The school was beautiful. You could almost see your face in the polished wood floors. Matched with the wood panelling on the walls, lined with portraits of famous people, it felt more like an art gallery than a school hall.
Jess walked past paintings of the Brontë’s, Joseph Priestley, John Foster, Samson Fox and Thomas Fairfax. These were people from Yorkshire, there to inspire the current pupils, as they looked down upon them. Jess imagined the feeling of privilege you might get from going to a school that was beautiful in its own right. No one thought that way about the school in the shabbier state in which they knew it. Most would moan about having to go there every day and couldn’t wait until they were allowed to leave.
Outside, without the dining hall and sports block, the school was no bigger than a large primary school and it was fascinating to the children to think so few pupils attended. Many buildings in the area dated back to Victorian times and had been built using Yorkshire Stone, with Hickley School being no exception. In
the present day, the outsides of these buildings had turned black due to many years of pollution. However, here they were, looking at walls the colour of golden sand and rather than being a blot on the landscape, the school was a beacon of light, glowing in the winter sunshine. Even the rows of terraced mill-worker cottages that lined the streets opposite the school were less black than they were used to and it made the area so much prettier.
Walking the cobbled streets around the outside of the school, some of it was recognisable; the rest was all farmland.
“It’s weird to think none of these farms exists now,” Jess said.
“I know. I kind of like it like this,” Nadia said.
Jess agreed. It was much nicer to see all that green space rather than built-up housing developments. When they re-joined Tomma and Ash, the girls told them about their lessons that morning and how difficult they’d found them.
“I don’t like the sound of that. Do we have to go back to school this afternoon?” Ash said. “Why don’t we see if we can get a train home now?”
“Now you want to go!” Jess said. It was only the thought of lessons that would put Ash off being stuck in a time-warp. “We’ll have to get on the last carriage again.” She was convinced that was where the magic happened.
They decided to go and see. As the four of them walked in silence to the train station, they were neither in a hurry nor taking their time, but seemed to fall in to step with each other. Together, as one unit, they were stronger, but even so, Jess could sense the nervous tension crackling in the air around them. She noticed for the first time how different they were to the strangers they passed in the street and it made the feeling of intruding on another world stronger; like listening in to a conversation, or spying from another room.
As she looked around at the women dressed in smart suits, nipped in at the waist and with matching hats, like clones of each other, they reminded her of ants getting on with their day. There were more women than men; the only men there presumably being the ones who were too old or unable to go off to war.
Jess realised these people were going to experience things that only she and her friends knew about—things that hadn’t even happened yet. It made her feel all-knowing, with power over them that she didn’t want, and it caused her grip on Nadia to tighten. Jess sped up a little. The urgency to get home, back to familiarity, grew stronger as they neared the station.
In the same way that they hadn’t taken the time to notice what was going on around them earlier that morning, not one of them had appreciated how lovely Hickley station was. It was so different from what they were used to. The waiting room was clean, for a start. In place of the split and broken plastic seats were rows of red velvet-lined benches. There was also a tearoom to one side and a lit coal fire giving warmth to the room, as well as lighting it with its orange glow. The place was empty though, which Jess thought was not a good sign.
As the children stepped into the waiting room, the first thing they all did was to automatically look up for the timetable, before realising there would be no screen. Instead, there was a woman stood on a small stepladder sliding out white metal squares on which were written the letters and numbers that, put together, indicated the destinations and times of the trains.
“Excuse me,” Tomma said, walking up to her and standing patiently by the ladder.
She stopped and turned around, smiling down warmly at him.
“When’s the next train to Kirkshaw, please?”
“Kirkshaw? Next one doesn’t come until four,” she said, then noticing the disappointment on the faces, she stepped down and turned to face them. She was wearing what looked like a guard’s uniform, but with a skirt rather than trousers. The skirt wasn’t as long as those of the women they’d seen in the streets. It came to mid-calf length and the rest of her legs were covered with boots that came up to the knee. Her hair was all hidden inside a hat, which looked like it was made for someone with a much bigger head than hers.
“Didn’t you know we only have one coming in on a morning and one leaving at the end of the day? We’re running a reduced service as we’re short of drivers,” she said. “Been learning how to drive one myself. Hoping to pass my test next week.”
The woman looked pleased about that and it was obvious she loved her job, but it didn’t help the children and no one knew what to say to her. They turned slowly to leave, heads down and shoulders slumped. Jess was trying hard not to cry.
“So, that’s it then,” Nadia said when they were back outside. “We have to go back to school and suffer lessons for the afternoon. I don’t think I can stand it.”
“Me neither,” Ash said.
“You didn’t even do lessons this morning,” Jess said. “You were outside digging up potatoes.”
“I know, but if they’re anything like you said, I don’t want to go. It makes our lessons seem easy and fun in comparison, which coming from me is saying something,” Ash said.
Ash had a point. Even though he hadn’t experienced what the lessons were like yet, he was already under the impression it would be a lot worse than what they were used to and he was right about that. Jess didn’t spend her days at school feeling terrified to speak or get anything wrong. She didn’t have to sit in silence the whole time, and the teachers were like angels compared with what they had come across so far. AND they had pens, proper ones that actually worked, AND computers, AND of course, they had Instagram.
Chapter 10
If You Can’t Beat ‘Em, Join ‘Em
It was a slow trudge back up the hill towards the school. A cloud of defeat hung directly above them, dampening all hopes of getting home sooner rather than later, or even if they were going to ever get home at all. They just didn’t know, but at least they knew there would be a train going to Kirkshaw later, so they could at least try.
After discussing whether to hide out until four, they decided it was too cold and they had nowhere to go and nothing to do. School seemed like the better option. As they neared the building, they joined other pupils heading from home back for afternoon lessons. The pupils were chatting, messing about, pushing each other around and acting in much the same way as Jess and her school colleagues usually did.
Jess wasn’t sure why that surprised her, but given there was a war on, she thought they would all be miserable. It didn’t seem that way at all. Life just seemed normal.
Remembering the split of pupils in the playgrounds, Jess and Nadia said goodbye to Tomma and Ash at the corner of the road, arranging to meet them at the same spot at home time.
“Good luck,” Jess said, feeling reluctant to let them leave. It wasn’t the same having lessons without her close friends around her, especially Tomma.
“Let’s get on with this, then,” Nadia said. “I wonder if Martha is back yet. She was nice, wasn’t she? It was like she was the only one who noticed us. The others don’t seem to care.”
“I’m sure they have more important things to think about,” Jess said. “And Martha said they were used to new people coming. She said something about bombings. I didn’t know we were bombed in World War I, did you?”
Before Nadia could answer, the bell rang out and this time, the girls knew to line up. They found Martha and huddled together with her at the back of the line.
“Thanks for your help this morning, Martha,” Jess said. “We felt a bit silly not knowing what to do.”
“That’s all right. Everybody keeps away from the new ‘uns these days. They don’t want to be reminded of their own fathers and brothers who are missing or dead.”
Martha’s hair was hanging loosely across her right shoulder and she fiddled with the ends as she spoke. The bright auburn tones did not go with the brown uniform and it reminded Jess how much she hated wearing those colours too. Who thought a brown uniform was a good idea? It must have been the school’s colours right from the start and was quite possibly designed to make you look as plain as possible. If you had red hair though, it was even worse.
&nb
sp; “It must be hard,” said Jess, trying to bring her focus back to the real issues at hand.
“My mamma’s not slept for weeks. Dad’s recovering in hospital, but until he’s home, she won’t rest. Then there’s Henry still in France. We haven’t heard anything so we’re all worried sick. I just wish this whole thing was over.”
Jess and Nadia looked at each other, both guilt-ridden and neither knowing what to say. Martha could sense their awkwardness and her face broke into a smile.
“I hope you’re ready for Games,” she said, rubbing her gloved hands together as if warming up already.
“Games?” Nadia and Jess said at the same time.
“As in PE?” Nadia asked raising her eyebrows.
“What’s PE?” Martha frowned.
“Oh, never mind, sorry,” Nadia said, turning to Jess and whispering, “Awkward.” Nadia put her face into her hands and groaned. “You know what this means, Jess?”
Jess didn’t know what she meant and looked at Nadia questioningly.
“No kit,” Nadia said, nudging her. Now it was Jess’s turn to groan. It was the thought of another telling off and another visit to Matron.
“Just come in for register, then when everyone goes to the changing rooms to get ready, you can sneak off to Matron then,” Martha said, as though it was obvious. “That way no one will realise you don’t have your things.”
“Good idea,” Jess said.
They lined up behind the others, falling silent as they filed towards the classroom. Jess was already beginning to get nervous again and could feel her stomach churning. She hated PE at the best of times.
*
Miss Jennings was sitting at her desk and she peered at them over the top of her glasses as they all scuttled into the classroom, eager to get to their seats. One look from her was all it took to say this was a no-nonsense, get-on-with-it affair. Jess took her seat at the back of the room, next to Martha.
