believed his appearance had been a side effect of fainting and since then life had settled into a form of normality. He and his friends still met at The Beach every break and lunchtime but other than the apparent magical manifestation of five ripe berries each day in Aiden’s tin, the inconsistent properties of Zach’s stick and the occasional bat attack, nothing strange happened. Seb refused to eat the berries but the others had become used to their morning dose and the ritual of spitting the seeds into Aiden’s waiting tissue. After wiping them off, he would place them in a small drawstring pouch. None of the others knew why, or cared enough to ask him.
Scarlet got used to her phenomenal eyesight and enjoyed enacting the odd parlour trick for the others, such as reading the scribblings in some student’s diary from the other side of the playground. Of course, as Zach pointed out, the others couldn’t prove or disprove the accuracy of her account but they all enjoyed the pastime nonetheless.
Seb hadn’t seen one silver person and the ogre had not reappeared. However, Seb wondered if that had something to do with the frequent sightings he had of Mr Duir. Pretty much whenever he turned a corner The Head was there. It gave Seb a peculiar feeling and he always knew he was going to see him because the silver lines in the skin of his palm would tingle first.
Twice at home he had felt that tingling and once he thought he heard the cackling sound of the ogre but it never materialised.
He thought about telling the others about the leaf-boy but, convinced that he had imagined it, he kept quiet.
They discussed the strange happenings of the first week innumerable times and tried to quiz Mr White but they got no answers. So in the backdrop of a more comfortable normality Seb allowed himself to feel excited. This morning was the first of the two visits to sites of historical interest which Miss Angel had detailed in the assembly.
Today they were going to Waulud’s Bank in Luton, an earthwork bank believed to date back to around 3000 BC. Seb was thrilled. He imagined a stone circle, a half-excavated skeleton or two, exhibits of flint spearheads, misshapen, crude coinage. Zach was as excited. He was also living in expectation of finding a circle of monolithic stones, only in his version, at the centre, there would be a larger sacrificial stone and he spouted on about how many poor souls must have met a gruesome end at the hands of some crazed Druidic shaman.
Aiden, seated across the coach aisle from them, was less enthusiastic.
“I went on the Internet and researched it, Zach. I don’t think there’s anything astounding there. It just looked … well … grassy.”
“Aiden, it is never obvious. You have to use your knowledge, your vision, to see hidden signs. The stones probably look like an old wall or something. I hope there’s a skeleton or a bog-person.”
There followed Zach’s own graphic description of the squashed and deformed remains of Lindow Man he had seen in the glass display case at the British Museum until Clarissa, sitting in front of them, told him to stop being gross and shut up.
The journey from the school to the site lasted only forty minutes and when the two coaches pulled up in the middle of a grotty car park, overlooked on one side by a vast housing estate, Seb was crushed.
They piled off the coaches and lined up, facing what appeared to be a simple and uncared for playing field. The place was drab, filthy. Bits of rubbish lay trapped in the grasp of the lower twigs of nearby bushes, there was more debris being blown around the grassy expanse in front of them and as Seb turned he could see huge high-rise blocks of flats dominating the skyline.
Zach was unimpressed. “This is it? This is the 5,000-year-old ancient monument?”
Aiden jumped off the coach step behind him. “I did try to tell you. I looked at the photos on the website – not very inspiring.”
It was a blustery day but the sun shone resplendently in a blue sky devoid of clouds. The pupils formed a raggedy circle around Mr West in the middle of the car park. Seb’s eyes roved over the landscape and he tried to just be grateful that they were out of the classroom.
Seb, Scarlet and their friends were together in one group, which pleased Seb, and he was even more pleased to discover that their teacher was to be Mr West. Unfortunately Clarissa was in their group too and bounded over.
“Ah, you must be unlucky enough to be Seb’s twin!” She smiled at Scarlet. “I’m Clarissa.” She nudged Nat. “Let’s stay together.” She linked an arm through the girls’ arms. They looked, to Seb’s annoyance, quite pleased.
“We’re not twins!” he mumbled as Mr West approached them.
“Come now, Master Thomas, Master Orwell. My, such long faces. It may seem uninteresting now, but just wait and see what of our history and heritage we can unearth.” He winked at them and smiled happily.
He led their group across the grass and along a footpath to where a huge horse chestnut tree spread its limbs, leaves reddening, over a small concrete platform that was fenced off on three sides by harsh metal railings. He herded the six pupils into the small area. Seb was squashed between Scarlet and Zach. Clarissa muscled Nat out, standing to Scarlet’s left, complaining about being crushed.
Mr West spoke from behind them, “Though many do not know it, behind and beneath these monstrous blocks of flats are five springs which together form the source of the river Lea. It emerges here and trickles down that way,” he pointed along the river course, “to Rotten Corner, where it is joined by other springs which increase the flow to something more magnificent than that which you see here at your feet.”
Seb looked down. He could see the railings of a gated grille which spanned the rectangular hole below the platform. Beneath its bottom rung, water limped over a stony bed. No more than an inch deep it didn’t even cover some of the bigger rocks and stones. A crumpled drinks can, some soggy newspaper and a bicycle wheel decorated the banks as the unimpressive flow of water rippled its way between their shallow sides to disappear under overhanging trees.
Seb watched the water barely managing to bubble along, and then a sweet wrapper floated away from the railings where they stood and gently dropped onto the surface to be carried away under the trees.
“Clarissa!” He shot an angry look at her.
“What?” she answered aggressively, leaning round Scarlet to frown back at him. “What, Seb? Have you got a problem?”
“Yes I have!” Seb dropped his voice, “This place could be quite beautiful if people didn’t drop litter.”
“Oh don’t be so prissy, Seb. Who cares?”
“Actually, I do!” Mr West stood, glaring at her. “Master Thomas is quite correct. These places, albeit surrounded by the not-so-glamorous examples of twentieth-century buildings, still hold a natural beauty we would all do well to respect. You will, none of you, drop litter, damage the wildlife or do anything else that disrespects the natural environment we are in.”
The anger in his voice was breathtaking and Clarissa blushed. Making a mumbled apology to Mr West she flicked her eyes back to Seb and mouthed at him, I hate you!
Now Mr West led them off towards the steep embankment that was Waulud’s Bank. Scrambling to the top of the two-metre rise Seb looked down at the expanse of grassland and across the tree-smattered landscape. Mr West explained that this bank was believed to have been built around 3000 BC in the traditional ‘D’ shape of such earthworks. Excavations of the bank in 1953, 1971 and 1982 brought forth a wealth of artefacts. Finds included Neolithic pottery, animal bones and flint arrow heads. No skeletons then, Seb thought.
Standing atop a piece of ancient history, the sounds of the nearby road and urbanization fading away, Seb tried to imagine what it would be like growing up in those harsh days 5,000 years ago.
“This is so boring!” Clarissa’s moaning voice intruded, “When’s lunch?” She stood beside Aiden. “This is a tatty rec area in a yucky estate and I can’t believe this is a school trip. Why couldn’t we do Hampton Court?” she mumbled.
“Actually Clarissa, it really is quite lovely here. Can you see the river, the trees? If y
ou ignore the estate you can think you are in the middle of nowhere,” Aiden said.
“Precisely …” Clarissa began tramping down the slope. “Nowhere!”
“Not quite the Stonehengey sort of thing I’d expected, but hey, it’s history!” Zach beamed, ignoring her.
“Ah yes, Master Orwell, history and nature.” Mr West shuffled over. “It is no accident that man has chosen this spot on which to establish habitations from as far back as those early settlers. A source of fresh water is a treasure and all civilizations have, to some extent or another, held a belief in the magic and spirituality of places where the Earth deigns to bring forth its blessing. This place has five!” He turned to Zach, accentuating the word by lifting his hand, splaying the digits in his face, “Five such sources. Five springs. How magical must this place therefore be?” He beamed and Seb smiled at his enthusiasm.
Clarissa reached the bottom of the slope. “Mr West, where are we going now?”
“Why, nowhere Miss Stone.” With that the dwarf sat down among the prickly, spiky grass and patted the ground, indicating for the others to sit also.
The breeze blew fresh air into Seb’s face and he breathed deeply. He felt happy. Aiden sat next to him and so did Zach, smiling as Scarlet and Nat joined them. Clarissa, having stomped back up the bank, found a patch of grass to sit on and