by S G Read
‘What's going on?’ He demanded.
‘Nothing. Why?’ Stephen replied innocently.
He was wearing what he had been told to wear but had no idea why.
Stuart sought out his father.
‘What's happening?’ He asked.
‘I don't know what you mean.’ David replied just as innocently as Stephen but he knew what had been arranged.
Stuart sought out his mother.
‘Mum?’
‘Yes dear.’ Wendy asked as though butter would not melt in her mouth.
‘Are we going somewhere?’
Wendy smiled.
‘We might be.’ She replied.
‘Where?’
‘I'll tell you if you guess it right.’ Wendy said sweetly.
‘Can I guess too?’ Stephen asked.
He had followed Stuart from room to room.
‘Of course Stephen.’ Wendy replied.
‘Just tell me mum!’ Stuart moaned.
‘Is that a guess?’ Wendy asked wickedly.
‘No it isn't. Where are we going?’ Stuart asked grumpily.
‘Is it somewhere nice?’ Stephen asked.
‘Yes, you should enjoy yourselves, if you haven't got the rats that is!’ Wendy declared.
‘I haven't got the rats!’ Stuart grumped. ‘It's not to the hospital again is it?’
‘Gracious no. I said you would enjoy it!’ Wendy exclaimed.
‘Is it Chessington?’ Stephen asked.
‘Warm, very warm!’ Wendy replied.
‘It's not Oulton Towers is it?’ Stuart asked, now interested.
‘Bingo!’ His mother replied.
Stuart jumped up in the air, knocking the light sideways as he did so. Then he started to shake Stephen vigorously.
‘We're going to Oulton Towers Stevey!’
‘I heard.’ Stephen cried, a big smile covering his face.
A horn hooting outside stopped the conversation. The horn actually belonged to a coach, on board the coach were the rest of the team and a fair sprinkling of parents, including Stephen's mother. The two boys took no persuading to get on the coach, followed by Wendy and David. The coach door closed and the engine growled into life.
‘Where are we going Stu?’ Ben asked from behind him.
‘Don't you know?’ Stuart asked.
‘I wouldn't really need to ask you if I knew, would I now!’ Ben replied.
‘I'll give you three guesses.’ Stuart replied, as Stephen mouthed the words Oulton Towers silently to Sherman who sat next to Ben. Sherman whispered in Ben's ear.
‘The Tower of London?’ Ben's guessed.
Sherman and Stephen exchanged glances and Sherman whispered in Ben's ear again.
‘I know!’ Ben answered turning to face Sherman and replied out loud. ‘But if I'd have said Oulton Towers straight away, Stu would have known you had just told me!’ He turned back to face Stuart. ‘Legoland?’
‘Very funny!’ Stuart replied, before turning to Stephen. ‘I wonder how Sherman found out.’
Stephen shrugged his shoulders.
‘Search me!’ He exclaimed.
‘Is that where we are going then?’ J.C asked loudly from the back of the coach.
‘Talk about big ears!’ Ben called back. ‘Where’s Noddy?’
‘Probably in your bed for you to cuddle when you go to bed!’ J.C retorted. Then he was lost in conversation with Toby discussing what they knew about the rides at their destination.
The boys found out later that all the parents had been involved in the arrangements for the trip, which had been brought up at one of their meetings about the plane crash. They had formed a group on the advice of their solicitors to be able to fight the airline for a larger compensation claim, than the airline wanted to pay. It also meant that those parents who could not afford a lengthy court battle with the airline and would therefore be forced to take a lesser sum, could be protected by the group. They were mainly Mrs Brown and Mrs Higgs, who were without a bread winner.
The trip was as good as the boys expected it to be. They queued for ride after ride, ate popcorn and sweets, drunk cola until it was forced back out by one of the more exciting rides but that did not stop or even deter them, they were there to enjoy themselves and that is exactly what they were going to do! The coach brought them home late that night and each boy had to be roused from a deep sleep when they reached their homes.
‘He looks very peaceful now!’ Mrs Davis commented as she looked down at the sleeping Ben. ‘When he's awake he certainly changes. Come on Ben time to wake up!’
J.C's father merely picked up the sleeping J.C and carried him off the coach.
‘Goodnight all. We'll have to do this again!’ He said as he descended the steps.
Stephen's mother and Stephen were dropped of with Wendy and David, she to have coffee, Stephen to sleepover, as Stephen's mother had to be at work very early the next morning. David drove Mrs Brown home later after a long relaxing talk, something she rarely had the time for.
Both Stuart and Stephen, having been asleep on the coach, were wide awake and after getting ready for bed they played on the computer until late into the night. When David Sellars returned from dropping Stephen's mother off he looked in on the boys, he found Stephen asleep in the bed which had been hastily prepared for him and Stuart asleep over the computer. He lifted the sleeping boy, carried over to his bed, laid him on it and pulled the duvet over him.
‘Goodnight son.’ He said quietly and kissed him on the forehead.
‘Goodnight dad.’ Stuart replied. ‘Thanks for the lift.’
He winked at his father, then turned over and snuggled into the duvet. David smiled, he was glad to have a second chance with his little warrior.
CHAPTER 9
On Sunday morning Stuart and Stephen found that they were the only members of the team about and after a late breakfast they decided to go to look at the tree house. When they arrived, they noticed that it had sagged sideways. The short walls were leaning, the first wall built leant out from the tree house, the second shorter wall leant in towards the other shorter wall. It was the long walls which were causing it. They were able to push it upright but it sagged back as soon as they let go.
‘We need bits of wood, angled to hold it upright.’ Stephen explained. ‘If we nail them to each upright they pass, it will make it stronger.’
Stuart studied the problem and he could see the idea.
‘We need one on each side don’t we?’ He asked.
‘No. We need one either way on each side and they should meet each other where we nail them on the floor!’
Stuart pushed his elbows together and held his hands out sideways as far as he could.
‘Like this?’ He asked.
‘Yes and as soon as possible or the wind could blow it over!’ Stephen exclaimed.
‘Let's go and get some tools!’ Stuart said urgently. ‘I don't think I could stand to see it fall down after all the hard work we've put in to it!’
They hurried back to Stuart's house.
‘Dad can we borrow some tools?’ Stuart asked, as a greeting.
‘You already have my hammer!’ David replied.
‘No, I put it back!’ Stuart explained.
David looked in his toolbox and found the hammer.
‘What tools do you want to borrow?’ He asked.
‘The hammer, the saw and the level!’ Stuart replied.
‘What my new level and my saw that your mother bought me last Christmas?’
‘Yes.’
‘I think not. Those tools are not going out of my sight!’
The two boys retreated and had a, sometimes heated, discussion, before returning to face Stuart's father.
‘Are you busy dad?’ Stuart asked.
David Sellars had a long list of things he wanted to do but he still said. ‘No, not really. Why?’
Soon all four of them were on their way to the tree house. Wendy had refused to be left out and had produced
a picnic in record time. Both had been sworn to secrecy. During the afternoon, which was all that remained by the time they arrived, the three made the tree house into a solid and wind proof structure, while Stuart's mother kept them fed and watered. The water, in the boy’s case being cola and in David's case, low alcohol lager. By the time they hid the ladder the boys were happy, until Stuart's mother reminded them they were going to school in the morning. After forcing a large meal into Stephen, Wendy allowed David to drive him home. Stuart went along for the ride.
The following Saturday they met by the river. They walked to the tree house and inspected Stuart and Stephen's improvements.
‘It feels a lot better now.’ Toby praised. ‘I thought the first strong wind would blow it over but not anymore!’
Having inspected the work, they moved on to discussing school.
‘Was he still there Simon?’ C.J asked, of the boy who wanted to take over the school.
‘Yes and a big kid with no brains but who I wouldn't want to argue with has joined him. Now if you don't pay him protection money, you get beaten up!’ Simon replied.
‘But you haven't got any money!’ Stephen argued, knowing the feeling well.
‘I did explain but it didn't do any good. I just keep out of his way now even if it means bunking off school!’
‘Why don't you tell your mum?’ Stuart asked.
‘I have. She is trying to get me transferred. She said that if the airline gives us enough money, I can go to a private school!’
‘What to be a toast rack?’ Toby asked.
‘It's got to be better than the school I'm at!’ Simon replied.
Suddenly Toby said. ‘You did Sherman!’
‘I did what?’ Sherman asked.
‘Fire the gun!’ Toby answered. ‘That night, when we were trying to creep away from the druggies through the jungle and that torch came on, you fired at it!’
‘But I was only shooting in the dark, I couldn't see anyone. It would have been nice to see the bark flying off the trees, like when the helicopter was shooting at us!’ Sherman replied. ‘It was exciting.’
‘I might remind you that that was when I was shot!’ Toby said curtly.
‘That wasn't my fault! You were the one standing up and waving to them!’ Sherman retorted.
‘I didn't know they were going to shoot me, did I!’
‘You soon did though!’ Ben replied.
‘I'd rather not talk about it!’ Toby said quietly.
‘Why not?’ Ben asked. ‘They are not likely to do it again, they are all in a Colombian jail; or as Captain Torres said, we will lose them in our prisons for a while.’
‘If you must know, when they started shooting at me I wet myself!’ Toby admitted. ‘Satisfied?’
There was a long, heavy silence.
‘And I though it was sweat!’ Stuart said looking at his hands, as though they were covered in something horrible.
Simon was the first to laugh, then one by one they all joined in including Toby!
‘Are we going to do anything today?’ Denis asked when he was able to speak.
The laughter died slowly and they started planning. First the sheet of wood which they had forgotten yet again had to be collected and carried to the tree house. Then the last wall had to be built to include a door. The angled braces on the side where the door was going had been fitted like an X, stopping short of the end where the ladder met the tree house, to allow a door to be fitted there. Boys were sent to cut wood to finish the wall and others were sent to fetch the sheet of wood from its hiding place. They finished the wall and, after a struggle, cut the sheet of wood to fit the door opening, now they had a door. With the skeleton of their tree house completed they sat in it with the new door propped up in place.
‘Now what?’ C.J asked.
‘Well we need wood to nail on the walls and a roof.’ Toby answered.
‘Which do we do first?’ C.J asked.
Conflicting ideas on the next project caused Stuart to call a meeting, the discussion led to an equal vote. All eyes turned to Stuart and his casting vote.
‘He squirmed at the thought of having to decide on his own, if he had been allowed to vote in the first place then they would have had a result, as there were thirteen of them. Now it was all down to him.
‘As we are in England and the weather is very unpredictable I think we should do the roof next!’ He announced.
There he had chosen! Let them argue all they like! Stuart thought. To his surprise they all accepted his decision and started to discuss the type of roof they should use. They discussed it at length, before going in search of rafters. The plan was to use lots of rafters, in fact as many as they could fit side by side across the roof, then cover it with a single sheet of plastic; purchased from the local builders merchants. They were going to use the plastic builders put under concrete when they were laying floors. The plastic would then be covered with thick turfs to hold the plastic in place and to make it look like a roof. They were half way through the roof when they decided to stop for the day. They had a short discussion and voted to meet the following Saturday, bringing anything that could be used to finish the walls, with them. They still had what was left of the eight by four sheet after the door had been cut out. When the others were gone Stuart and Stephen sat down by the river throwing stones like any other twelve year old.
‘It doesn't seem possible that not long ago we were stuck in the jungle.’ Stuart said as his latest stone skipped across the water and finally disappeared.
‘I know it's like it was a dream.’ Stephen replied.
‘More like a nightmare.’ Stuart corrected.
‘I don't know it had its good points.’
‘Like what?’ Stuart asked.
Stephen thought for a moment.
‘The campfires, the sing songs.’ He started to list them.
Together they chorused. ‘The potato wine!’
‘Let's make some more Stevey, to celebrate with when we finish the tree house!’
Stephen produced a battered sheet of paper.
‘This is the actual recipe that my dad wrote down. I was going to offer to make some more today but I forgot!’
‘Let's go we can use my mum's potatoes.’ Stuart offered.
‘Good idea. I think my mum counts ours! She says it will be better when we get some money off the airline but they don't seem to want to part with it too quickly! You know the stuff they have to pay out!’
‘Compensation.’ Toby said from behind them.
‘Yes that's the stuff. I thought you went home with the others Toby.’ Stephen replied.
‘A private conference delayed me. Did I hear something about potato wine?’ Toby braved the skimming stones long enough to rinse his hands in the river.
‘Yes, so we can celebrate the finishing off the tree house.’ Stuart explained.
‘Completion.’ Toby corrected out of habit. ‘I'll get some spuds-’
‘Potatoes!’ Stuart corrected.
‘Very funny. I'll get some potatoes from home, where do you want them?’
Stuart and Stephen exchanged glances.
‘My flat.’ Stephen decided. ‘My mum's always working, we can make it there and we will be glad of any that are left over!’
When Toby arrived at Stephen's flat, he had Ben and Sherman with him and two carrier bags full of potatoes.
‘Here are your spudtatoes.’ Toby said cleverly.
‘You mean tom de peres!’ Stephen answered just as cleverly.
‘Mrs Blunkett would have a fit if she heard you say that!’ Toby replied.
‘Who's she?’ Sherman asked.
‘Our French teacher.’ Toby answered.
‘That's never her real name!’ Ben argued.
‘Fraid so.’ Toby replied.
‘I brought this, it's my dad’s, so we need to take it back after we've used it.’ Sherman held a fermenting barrel.
‘Wow! We'll nearly be professional.’ Stuart cried.
They started work peeling the potatoes. Potato peelings were spread everywhere and so was the water used to wash them. Stuart was sent home to find the ingredients they were missing, he had to be very tactful while looking for them. When he returned the mixture was finished and poured very badly into the fermenting barrel. When the barrel was safely hidden in the airing cupboard Stephen looked round the flat in dismay.
‘It looks like a bomb's hit it!’ He declared. ‘My mum will do her nut!’
‘And she will find out about the potato wine!’ Toby added.
‘Not if we clean the flat up.’ Ben argued. ‘Come on it won't take us long, if we all help.’
The boys started cleaning the flat. By the time Stephen's mother arrived home, the boys were watching television and the flat was cleaner than when she had left.
‘Hi mum.’ Stephen greeted innocently.
The other three boys greeted her in much the same way. Pat Brown looked round the flat, realizing that it was actually clean and tidy.
‘What's been going on?’ She asked.
‘Nothing mum!’ Stephen answered innocently.
‘Then how come it's cleaner now, than when I left?’
‘We just thought we'd clean up a bit!’ Stephen answered still trying to sound innocent.
‘And pigs can fly!’ She retorted.
‘Is that the time? I should be home by now!’ Sherman said quickly, studying his watch to an extreme.
The others took their lead from Sherman and hurried out of the flat, leaving Stuart sitting in one of the old armchairs and Stephen standing in front of his suspicious mother.
‘Stuart?’ She said and stood waiting for an explanation.
He stood up, his mind working through every conceivable explanation he could think of and trying to choose the best one; the one she might actually believe. In the end nature gave him the perfect answer, the room started to go black and he collapsed to the floor, breaking the glass top of a coffee table as he did so. Mrs Brown put a hand to her mouth for a split second, then the sight of Stuart's blood kicked her into motion. She took charge and carefully examined the unconscious boy to find a deep cut on one arm. She removed the jagged piece of glass which was embedded in his arm and bandaged it tightly.
