The Farm Beneath the Water

by Helen Peters

  “I’ve got it!”

  Lottie stared at her notes. “That can’t be right.” She picked up her calculator again.

  “Lottie,” Hannah whispered, “I know how to get rid of Miranda. Without force or anything. We just need the right person to do it.” She looked around the classroom and her eyes lit on a fair-haired girl at the front. “Jess. She’d be perfect. As long as she agrees. But she’d never tell on us, even if she didn’t want to do it. And we’ll need other people as back-up. But that—”

  Lottie gasped. Hannah turned to her.

  “What?”

  Lottie was staring at the numbers on her calculator. “If that’s right,” she murmured, “it’s unbelievable.” She shook her head. “I must have got it wrong.”

  She bent over the figures again. She ran her fingers through her hair. She flicked through the brochure and checked something against her notes. Then she turned to another page and did the same.

  “It seems right,” she said, “but it can’t be.”

  “What can’t be?”

  “Girls, are you OK back there?” called Miss Purcell.

  “Fine thanks,” said Lottie.

  “I’m going to shake you in a minute,” whispered Hannah. “What is it?”

  “I can’t tell you until I know. I might be completely wrong. I’ll get my mum to look at it when she comes back from her conference. She’s brilliant at maths.” She turned to Hannah, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It seems too crazy to be true. But if it does turn out to be right, it could be the most important piece of evidence we’ve got.”

  The clapping and cheering and the sound of feet thundering down the backstage stairs faded away as the cast of The Tempest left the stage. In a French classroom further down the corridor, Hannah closed the door behind the small group of conspirators: herself, Lottie and Priya, Katy and Marie, Jonah and Jack.

  Hannah’s body was pumping with adrenalin. She couldn’t believe this day had finally come and she couldn’t believe what they were about to do.

  Even beneath the heavy stage make-up liberally applied by Vishali and Anna in Year 9, Hannah could see how nervous the others were. She hoped her own nerves didn’t show too badly.

  “Right,” she said, “Twelfth Night is about to start. We’ve got ten minutes max before we need to get into costume, so this will have to be quick. Lottie, you go first. If anyone comes in, I’ll start talking about Romeo and Juliet.”

  Lottie glanced at the door, then took a bulging envelope from her rucksack and handed it to Jack.

  “There’s four hundred in there. My dad printed them at work. And I can’t believe I’m trusting you with them.”

  “Can we have a look?” asked Katy.

  Lottie pulled a bunch of leaflets from the envelope and handed them round. Hannah had seen it before but she took one and studied it again, her heartbeat speeding up at the thought that, if their plan worked, every member of the audience would have one of these in their hands in an hour’s time.

  The leaflet was a piece of A4 paper folded into three. On the front it said, in bold black capitals: GIANT RESERVOIR IN MIDDLEHAM? Beneath the headline was a photograph of the farm, with a big black cross right through it.

  Inside the leaflet, Lottie had summarised the main arguments against the reservoir, with pictures of rare birds, flowers and animals. On the back page, in large bold type, she had written: “Do add your own opinions, but most importantly, PLEASE WRITE.” Then she had printed the address of the Environment Minister.

  “It really does count if the government gets a lot of letters, Dad says. It can make a massive difference.”

  “Who’s handing out the leaflets?” asked Marie.

  “Jonah and Jack have organised people to be at all the exits,” said Hannah.

  “Yep,” said Jonah. “Our highly trained team of security guards.”

  “Security guards?” said Priya.

  “We have recruited,” said Jack, “the entire Under 14 Rugby squad. They are totally up for it. Legalised violence is meat and drink to them.”

  “They’re supposed to be handing out leaflets,” said Lottie, “not rugby-tackling people who try to leave.”

  “Whatever it takes, my friend,” said Jonah. “Whatever it takes. They’re very versatile people.”

  “All right,” said Hannah. “So leaflets are sorted.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Lottie sarcastically. “Nothing could possibly go wrong with that plan.”

  Priya’s face looked strained. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.”

  “I still think he might storm out,” said Marie. “Once he realises he’s been set up.”

  Jonah rubbed his hands together. “I think you’ll find our security team will see to that.”

  “Oh, please,” said Lottie.

  “He’s not going to storm out, is he,” said Jack, “when he’s standing centre-stage with a spotlight on him? It would make him look a total idiot. Once he’s up there, he’s trapped.”

  “Well, let’s hope so,” said Hannah. “Because it’s all we’ve got.”

  “Oh, I dunno,” said Jack. “He’s a fair-sized guy, but I reckon we could wrestle him down.”

  “Sure,” said Lottie, “if you really do want to get expelled and done for assault. Which, by the way, is absolutely fine by me.”

  Jack’s face crumpled into mock tears. “You are a mean, mean, meanie of a girl, Lottie Perfect.”

  “How could you?” said Jonah, rounding on Lottie. “You just made Jack cry.”

  Lottie rolled her eyes.

  “And Jess knows exactly what to do with Miranda?” said Katy.

  Hannah’s stomach lurched.

  “Ye-es.”

  Lottie frowned at her. “Why did you say it like that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Hannah. “It just seems a bit … mean, that’s all.”

  There were incredulous exclamations from everyone.

  “Mean?!” cried Lottie. “You’re worried about being mean? To Miranda? After how vile she’s been to you at every single rehearsal? Not to mention how vile she is in general.”

  “Yes, but she has learned all her lines and everything, hasn’t she? She’s expecting to be in a play and now she’s not going to have the chance. That seems a bit mean.”

  “The thing I’m worried about,” said Priya, “is how her parents are going to react. I saw them coming in and I just thought, what are they going to do? They’re expecting their little darling to be the star of the evening and instead, she’s nowhere to be seen. They’ll probably sue us all.”

  There was silence. Everyone looked at Hannah.

  “Oh, lord,” said Hannah. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

  “Leave it to me,” said Jack. “I’ll handle them.”

  “So,” said Lottie, “your security guards will be throwing them to the ground, too, will they?”

  “Actually, I thought I’d use psychological tactics.”

  Lottie cackled.

  Jack ignored her. “When Twelfth Night finishes, I’ll go over to Miranda’s parents and tell them we’re doing something a bit more radical and experimental, and that Miranda has the star part, but it’s right at the climax of the play.”

  Hannah stared at him, her eyes wide. “That’s brilliant. So they’ll sit there all quiet, just waiting for their daughter to come in and steal the show.”

  “And when she doesn’t?” said Lottie. “Then what?”

  Jack shrugged. “Then it’ll all be over and they won’t have interrupted.”

  “They could still sue us afterwards.”

  “Well,” said Hannah, “there’s no point worrying about that now.”

  “Oh, and, Roberts?” said Jack.

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve put in a bit of extra film footage.”

  “You’re telling me that now?” Hannah almost shrieked. “How’s that going to work with the timings?”

  “All right, chill out. It’ll be fine.” />
  “But it might mess everything up. What is it, anyway?”

  “It won’t mess anything up. When it starts, you can all just stand still while it plays. It’s only a short clip.”

  “But what is it?”

  The door opened. Hannah’s stomach somersaulted. Everyone’s heads whipped round.

  Vishali put her head round the doorframe.

  “It’s OK, we’re coming,” said Hannah. “We’ve all had our make-up done, anyway. We just need to get into costume.”

  “You’d better come right now,” said Vishali. “You won’t believe what Miranda’s trying to do.”

  Hannah’s stomach somersaulted again.

  “Oh no, what?”

  “Just come and see. You’re not going to believe it.”

  Hannah turned to the boys, her insides churning. “Go and get changed. Meet you in the corridor in ten minutes.”

  The girls hurried after Vishali to the music classroom, which had been temporarily converted into the girls’ dressing room. The Kipling House girls, including Martha, were changing out of their Tempest costumes and hanging them back on the rails at the sides of the room. Vishali’s friend Anna, who was helping with hair and make-up, was on her hands and knees under the teacher’s desk, picking up discarded blobs of grubby cotton wool and dropping them in the bin, which was already overflowing with cotton buds, cleansing wipes and crisp packets. The teacher’s desk was littered with make-up, sponges and brushes.

  “Oh, Charlotte, here you are,” said Miranda. She had had her hair and make-up professionally done and was dressed in the first of her five hired costumes. “I was just telling them you wouldn’t mind.”

  She gestured behind her and, for the first time, Hannah saw a rail of unfamiliar costumes in the corner of the room. Standing in front of the rail, looking hunched and miserable in heavy brocade dresses, stood Bea, Millie, Elsie and Grace.

  Hannah stared, speechless. Lottie’s dark eyes smouldered.

  “What on earth are you playing at, Miranda?”

  Miranda smiled sweetly. “My mum’s friend was so kind, she sent all her Shakespearean costumes for us. I mean, we ought to do everything we can to win the competition, shouldn’t we? And we need all the help we can get at this stage. So I knew you’d understand. I mean, you can always use yours in one of your little chicken shed plays, can’t you?”

  “Oh, I understand,” said Lottie in a dangerously quiet voice. “I understand perfectly.”

  “We all understand,” said Hannah, stepping towards Miranda, rage filling every cell of her body. “And we’re all wearing Lottie’s costumes. So you can just take those hired ones right back where they came from.”

  “Oh, look,” said Marie loudly. “Here’s Jess.”

  The sound of Marie’s voice, unnaturally loud and bright, made Hannah stop. She wanted nothing more than to punch Miranda, but that would not be a good move. There were more important things to be done.

  “Hi, Miranda,” said Jess. “Oh, you look amazing.”

  “Thank you,” preened Miranda.

  Marie put one hand on Hannah’s shoulder and the other on Lottie’s. “Deep breaths,” she murmured.

  “Hey, guess what?” Jess said to Miranda. “The judge just asked me to give you a message.”

  “What, the guest judge?” said Miranda. “The director?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah noticed Amy slip out of the room, a bundle of purple velvet under her arm.

  “Yes,” said Jess. “Josephine Baxter. She said she’d love a word with you before the show.”

  Miranda beamed. “Really? Where?”

  “In Room 16. I think you’d better go now so you’re there when she comes. She won’t have much time.”

  “Ooh,” said Vishali, looking up from the desk, which she was wiping with kitchen roll. “What do you think she wants, Miranda?”

  “She must have heard about my acting,” said Miranda, with a smug glance at Hannah. “I expect she knows someone from my youth theatre. And of course there was that amazing review in the Linford Gazette after the festival.”

  She smoothed down her bodice, flicked back her hair and made for the door. “See you on stage!” she trilled over her shoulder, with a little wave.

  “Do you know what?” said Hannah, as the door closed behind her. “I don’t feel one bit guilty about her any more.”

  “Ssh,” said Lottie warningly.

  Hannah bit her lip. She scanned the room to make sure the cast of The Tempest had all left.

  “It’s OK,” said Vishali. “They’ve gone to watch the rest of Twelfth Night from the back of the hall.”

  “What if she escapes, though?” said Katy. “And gets the show stopped?”

  Hannah’s heart pounded. Now that Miranda had gone, there was no pretending any more. What they were about to do was actually real.

  Lottie turned to the Year 7s. “OK, take those off and get your proper costumes on, quickly.”

  “We didn’t want to wear these,” said Millie.

  “I know,” said Lottie. “It’s not your fault.”

  “Miranda bullied them into it,” said Vishali.

  “Lottie’s costumes are so beautiful,” said Marie, gazing admiringly at Katy’s perfectly fitting dress, with its huge puffed sleeves and frills of lace at the wrists. “It seems awful that we’re hardly going to wear them.”

  “I know,” said Priya. “But at least the cloaks will be worn.”

  “You do all have tops and leggings underneath, don’t you?” said Lottie. “Unless you’re planning to give the audience even more of a surprise than they’re going to get already.”

  “Hannah, are you all right?” asked Katy. “You look weird.”

  “I’m fine,” said Hannah. “Everybody ready? Let’s go.”

  They walked down the corridor towards the doors that led backstage. The boys were already waiting. As they got closer, Hannah saw that Ben was sitting on the floor, huddled against the wall, his head in his hands. Jonah and James were crouched either side of him.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, hurrying up to them.

  “Oh, phew, you’re here,” said Jonah. “He’s having a panic attack or something.”

  Ben looked up. His face was white. “We’re not really going to do this, are we? It’s mad. Collins is sitting in the front row. We’re all going to get expelled.”

  “They can’t expel us for doing a play,” said Hannah. “You don’t get expelled just for changing the words of a play.”

  “It’s a bit more than that, isn’t it? We’ve got, like, the director of Aqua or whatever he is coming. What if he sues us for inviting him to be in a play on false pretences? What if everyone walks out and there’s a massive fight with the bouncers? Then we’ll definitely be expelled. And no other school will take us and we won’t get any GCSEs and I’ll have a criminal record and—”

  “OK, OK,” said Hannah, crouching in front of him. “Slow down, Ben. Deep breaths. You can’t think about all that stuff. One step at a time. We’re just doing a play, that’s all. A slightly different play from the one they’re expecting. And if the audience wants to leave, we let them leave. There won’t be any fights. Jonah’s told the security guys that. And this was all my idea and I’m taking responsibility for it. If anyone’s going to get expelled, it’ll be me. But that’s not going to happen. OK? Deep breaths.”

  Ben took a long, juddering breath. Looking at him, Hannah felt terrible. She stood up and turned to the rest of her cast.

  “Listen, everyone, you’ve all been absolutely amazing, agreeing to this. But there is a good chance we’ll get into massive trouble. I’ll do my very, very best to make sure I take all the blame, but I can’t guarantee anything. So if any or all of you want to back out, just walk away now and I promise I’ll never say a single word about it. I can do it on my own if I have to. I know all the words.”

  Nobody moved.

  “Are you sure?” said Hannah. “Are you completely sure?”
>
  “Yes,” said Katy. “It’s the right thing to do. Aqua’s just spreading lies. We have to go out there and tell everyone the truth.”

  From the hall came whooping and cheering.

  “Oh, help,” said Priya. She looked terrified. “Twelfth Night’s finished.”

  Suddenly, Hannah started to shiver.

  Lottie looked at her. “Are you OK?”

  Hannah’s palms were sweating. She gripped Lottie’s arm. “Do you really think we should do this?”

  “Just remember,” said Lottie, “it’s to save your farm. If you didn’t try now, you’d regret it for the rest of your life.”

  Hannah’s legs trembled. She took a deep breath, which came out more like a shudder.

  Lottie squeezed her hands. “He’s here,” she muttered.

  Hannah looked up. And there was Nick Constable, swaggering down the corridor in the purple cloak and the velvet hat with an ostrich feather that Lottie had made, accompanied by Amy, wearing her Lady Montague dress and her sweetest smile.

  “Well, hello, team,” he said, beaming around at them. “Aren’t we all looking splendid?”

  Hannah forced a bright smile. “Are you all clear about everything?”

  “Absolutely, boss,” he said, with a mock salute. “Learned all my lines, done all my homework.” He flashed a smile around the group. “I have to say, I’ve been very impressed with the standard of the plays so far. Do you think this one has a chance of beating them all?”

  “Well, it should do,” said Jonah. “With you as our secret weapon.”

  Nick Constable smirked. “I’m not sure about that.” But he definitely looked flattered.

  “You know we’ve changed a few lines,” said Hannah, her heart thudding beneath her bodice. “You could probably tell from your script.”

  “Well, yes, I did wonder where the ‘players of Woolf House’ were mentioned in the original.” He chuckled. “Although it’s been many years since I read any Shakespeare, so I could have missed that bit.”

  They laughed obligingly.

  “We just thought it would be nice to give you a little introductory speech,” said Hannah. “Since you’re the guest of honour.”

  “I’m very flattered. And I feel quite the Elizabethan gentleman in this costume.”