Tuesday 13 December 2016

The whole book is now available on Kindle here. And a paperback version is also available here

18 What came out of the bucket

She was in the main hall at school, just after assembly finished, waiting for everyone to leave. On her way out, she realised she’d dropped her charm bracelet somewhere. Her great-aunt had given it to her when she was small and used to give her a new charm to add to it each birthday. It was real gold and she wasn't supposed to wear it to school. She was sure she’d put it on that morning but, with the crowd of children leaving, there’d been no hope of spotting it on the floor.

Crouching down and peering through their legs, once or twice she caught a flash of something reflecting in the sunlight - but then lost sight of it again.

‘Have you lost something, Ellie?’ Steph crouched down behind her, following her gaze.

‘I think so, Steph. You go on though or we’ll both be in trouble for being late.’

‘Are you sure I can’t help you look?’

‘No, it’s okay. I just have to wait till the hall is empty.’

Detached from the children’s thunderous collective noise, the racket slowly became alien and overwhelming and she wondered to herself how she could stand it every day. When she was a part of it, she never even noticed it.

Finally, the hall was empty and Elisha studied the expanse of rather scuffed parquet flooring. It boasted a few souvenirs of the assembly - a green v-necked jumper, sleeves across itself, one of those multicolour biro pens - you could choose which colour to use and press that one down. The trouble with them was that the more legible colours ran out quickly, so you'd only have light blue and bright pink left, which didn't show up on anything. There was also a hymn book, open face down and some bits of ratty tissue from a pocket. But no sign of the bracelet. The glinting she’d seen came from the rather more prosaic source of a crumpled piece of tinfoil from someone’s sandwich. Had someone picked the bracelet up? She supposed they might hand it in to lost property. That’s what she would do if she found something like that.

She now thought she knew how it must have come off - when she was pulling her sweater over her head and then her arms out of the sleeves. She thought she remembered there being a slight clatter. It was always very hot when they all crowded into the hall, even on the coldest days. Very annoyed with herself, first for wearing the bracelet to begin with and second for being so careless as to lose it, she sighed and turned to the doors at the back to leave.

Suddenly, from behind her she heard a commotion and a girl’s voice crying ‘Help! Help!’ And Veronica Atkins ran out onto the stage from the wings. Intrigued, Elisha waited to see what was happening.

But it wasn't long before she wished she hadn't. First off, there was just a shadow ... but she didn't like the look of it at all. It seemed to be a very big shadow, compared to Veronica’s; and it was a rather weird shape. Nor was she reassured by Veronica’s face, which was contorted into a petrified mask-like grimace. And Elisha could see that she was shaking even from where she stood, in the main body of the hall. The girl seemed to be frozen to the spot, staring up at the thing whose shadow darkened the wooden boards near her.

Her heart beginning to beat very fast, Elisha ran to the side of the hall and stooped to hide behind a few stacks of black plastic chairs. She put her head out and saw the thing emerge onto the stage. It was huge, monstrous, a black shiny carapace, massive, deadly-looking pincers ... It stretched a claw out, knocking Veronica over and pinning her to the floor.

It was a giant stag beetle. That was what had been coming out of the bucket in her dream the other night.

Elisha gasped, stared, blinked a couple of times, then pinched her left upper arm hard with her right thumb and forefinger. Veronica wasn't exactly screaming, more whimpering and moaning, trapped and helpless.

This must be a dream, Elisha thought, at the same time wondering why she didn't act, instead of just hiding. But she was genuinely puzzled as to what to do. Should she rescue Veronica (and how) or should she give the beetle a round of applause? It was a real dilemma.

The creature that had seemed so cute when it was little was terrifying in these proportions. But, although it was holding Veronica, it didn't really seem to be hurting her. What did stag beetles eat? Maybe she could tempt it away with something from her snack box?

‘Elisha!’ Veronica had seen her. She ducked back behind the chairs guiltily. ‘Elisha, help me, for God’s sake.’ So she could get her name right when she wanted.

Now she supposed she had to do something. Putting her satchel on the floor, she bent down and rummaged through it, prising the top off the Tupperware lunchbox. Was it more likely to go for an apple or a bar of chocolate?

While doing this, she heard activity from the stage. The beetle had released Veronica, but was pushing her along with its head, its pincers near her shoulders. Veronica had her hands over her eyes but still managed to call out desperately, ‘Elisha!’

She sprang into action, a Curlywurly in one hand and a Granny Smith in the other, running towards the stage. Waving them in front of her, she tried to get the beetle’s attention. ‘Here, here,’ she cried, briefly dangling them over Veronica, trying not to look at it in case it scared her too much, then moving to the side of the beetle, watching its head follow her. It took a couple of attempts before she really got it hooked, turning away from its victim towards her. At that second, Luke appeared from nowhere and dragged Veronica off into the wings. Veronica yelped when she first felt him touch her but then relaxed when she realised he wasn't an enormous insect.

Elisha dropped the apple and Curlywurly on the stage, then thought again, bent down and took the wrapper off the chocolate for the beetle. All of a sudden someone was shaking her by the shoulder. Angrily, she turned her head.

‘You dozed off,’ Steph was saying in a whisper, ‘and Miss C. saw you.’

Elisha was back in the hall in the middle of assembly, cross-legged on the floor between her friends, one hand fingering the charms on her bracelet. ‘Huh?’ she thought and stared at Steph in confusion.

‘Don’t worry, she only smiled.’ Steph nudged her with her elbow.

Elisha looked round for Veronica Atkins to check she was all right. The dream had seemed so real. But she couldn't see much from down on the ground, despite craning her neck upwards.

‘Have you seen Veronica?’

‘Yes. Why?’ Steph was engaged in writing a memory jogger on the back of her hand in black biro. It said ‘watch TOTP’. She turned back to Elisha. ‘You missed it all. She had some weird kind of turn or something. Maybe she fell asleep too because she started screaming and moaning. They took her to the sick room.’

Elisha sighed with relief. ‘But she’s okay?’

‘As far as I know.’ Steph clipped the lid back on her biro and hooked it onto the v-neckline of her sweater. ‘I thought we didn't like her anyway?’

Assembly was finishing for real (or she thought it was real this time) - the teachers were making the kids stand up row by row from the back and file out. Luke hung back from his row to join them.

‘Wow. What was all that about with Veronica?’ He shook his head expressively. ‘It was like she went mental.’ His eyes searched Elisha’s face - she wasn't sure what for. ‘Don't you think, Elisha?’

She frowned at him thoughtfully but said nothing.

‘It was almost as if she thought some giant insect was chasing her,’ Luke said.

Luckily, Steph had moved further away from them and hadn't heard him. Eyes widening, Elisha looked at Luke sharply and pulled him aside by tugging his shirtsleeve. ‘Are we having the same dreams again?’ she demanded, not sure why this made her annoyed with him.

‘I don't know,’ he shrugged. ‘Are we? You tell me.’

‘You know we are. But what about Veronica Atkins? Is she having the same ones too? And why?’

‘Hurry it up there.’ Mr Saunders was holding the door open and beckoning them through. The hall was almost deserted. Looking back at it, Elisha shuddered slightly, remembering the giant beetle.

‘I think it’s you,’ Luke confided, making Elisha raise her eyebrows. ‘It’s your dream,’ he continued. ‘But if you dream one of us into it, it becomes our dream too.’

He could be right. After a moment’s indignation that everyone else was invading her private subconscious, she began to think about the positives. She started to wish she could control her dreams more. Then perhaps she could dream that she met her favourite popstar and he fell in love with her ...

‘Is it the well giving you the power, d’you think?’ Luke meditated, as they pushed through the heavy green door into the classroom.

It was her turn to shrug. ‘Don't ask me.’

Tuesday 6 December 2016

The Well, chapter 19

19 The sting


The next day they met on the wall again. This time Luke was crunching on a crisp red apple as she sat down beside him. It was good to see he'd got his appetite back.
          She'd copied the rules down inside the back page of one of her exercise books and left the original version back in her bedroom, carefully folded and slotted into a letter her aunt had once sent her on special perfumed stationery. Sniffing it closely, she’d still been able to detect the faint fragrance of roses.
          Strangely, when she'd copied the verse, her writing had taken on some of the qualities of the original writer's – it was more controlled, loopy and decorative than usual, almost as if she'd been possessed by someone else. It had felt sort of spooky and a chill had run down her spine as she’d been writing.
          'Your handwriting's neat,' Luke commented, nodding appreciatively. 'Mine's so bad I often can't read it myself.'
          'Yeah, it's weird,’ – she had to stop talking as some sirens drowned out her words – ‘it is neater than normal,' she conceded, feeling slightly uncomfortable as she remembered the sensation she'd had when writing it the night before. There was a tickly kind of prickling on the back of her neck.
          'Right. So we need your dad to get a better job.'
          'Without it backfiring somehow.' She thought this point could not be stressed enough. Things often seemed to go wrong if you weren't careful what you wished for or maybe how you wished for it.
         'Uh-huh. So you're not wishing ill upon anyone, in fact, you're wishing for plenty, in a way.' His brow furrowed as he ran his index finger down the list of dos and don'ts. 'That's not relevant. Neither is that.'
          Elisha felt comforted by his logical analysis. She bent down to pull up the unelasticated socks that had congregated in untidy crinkles round her ankles and scratched at an insect bite just under her knee, making the area red and inflamed. Her Mum always told her not to scratch them but she just couldn't help it. To stop herself, she sat on her hands and turned her attention back to Luke.
          'Wish forward. Never back. Mmm. Maybe it could be said to be wishing back because he did have a good job before ...' He took another bite of the apple. She couldn't help thinking that Luke tended to consider everything a bit more carefully than she did. She wondered if it was a skill he’d learnt while poorly.
          'Yes, but I don't want him to get the same job again. I want him to have a different one, where he doesn't have to work so hard.'
          'Well then, that's probably okay, I guess.'
          The bell went for the start of class and they both jumped like someone had poked them in the back. Luke just laughed but Elisha had immediately thought 'heed the bell' and started to worry about time being up and the hell demons bit.
          'Sit next to me for the story this afternoon,' Luke urged, as they got up and started heading back to the school building. Elisha nodded quickly and smiled, watching him chuck the apple core into a big yellow cylindrical bin, almost hitting a wasp that was buzzing round it.
          Suddenly from across the asphalt, Jasmine ran up to her, yelling – well, screeching really – 'Where have you been? I've been looking for you all over all break!' She sounded really angry and very upset.
          Elisha realised that they had sat in a rather out-of-the-way corner to puzzle over the rhyme. It had seemed natural enough because they hadn't wanted to be disturbed.
          'Why? What's wrong?' she asked, for immediately she could see that something was definitely wrong. Jasmine's face was streaked and wet with tears; her eyes were red; and she looked distressed to the point of anguish.
          It had to be something to do with Steph because she wasn't there and the two girls were nearly always together. 'What's happened?' Her voice came out as a kind of shriek as the panic infected her. 'Has something happened to Steph? Where is she? Hrmph!' she went as Jasmine barrelled into her, holding her in a tight, desperate embrace, sobbing and gasping for breath at the same time.
          Elisha felt guilty for not being with her friends when they needed her. She wasn't doing any good turns for anybody else, just worrying about her own problems. As usual. Even though her aunt had warned her not to be selfish.
          Jasmine started to stutter out a breathless explanation as Elisha patted her rhythmically on the back as she'd seen people do in movies. Luke looked at her over her friend's head, his expression bewildered and troubled, like he'd just been assigned some really unpronounceable word in a spelling test.
          'It was a wasp.' Jasmine took in a big breath. 'She started to scream and I told her not to hit out at it. I tried to get her to calm down but you know what she's like with wasps.'
          Elisha nodded. 'Yes, I know. So did it sting her?'
          'It stung her on the arm, just here,' Jasmine indicated a place on top of her forearm.
          Feeling a bit relieved that it was only a wasp sting, Elisha held Jasmine away from her with one arm and rummaged for a tissue in her satchel with the other. 'Here,' she handed it to her friend, who wiped her face roughly before blowing her nose noisily. Her beaded braids swung over her face.
          Luke looked impatiently at them. 'The bell's gone already, you know,' he prompted, evidently thinking this was a lot of fuss over a wasp sting.
          Elisha made a face at him and asked Jasmine: 'But she's okay now? Is she in the nurse's office?'
          Elisha had only been there once herself – it was a small clinical room that smelt a bit like a hospital, only mixed with pee, and boasted an iron bed with a mattress covered in plastic, a green first-aid box with a white cross on it mounted on the wall, a sink and a desk and chair where the nurse sat when she was in there. There was a small toilet next to it. It was the kind of place where you instantly felt ill, even if you'd been all right before. She'd been feeling dizzy and lay down on the bed but the plastic cover had made so much noise each time she moved and had smelt so funny and rubbery that she couldn't wait to get up again.
          'She's been taken to hospital. Mr Saunders took her in his car because they said the ambulance would take twenty minutes. Elisha, she's allergic to wasp stings. She nearly died. I couldn't do anything to help her. She couldn't breathe; she started to have convulsions or something. I was so scared!
          'Veronica ran into the office to get them to call 999 and Josie went to get the nurse but she couldn't find her. Just as well Ronnie was there ...' Jasmine stopped to gulp in air, 'I don't know what would have happened.'
          Even in the middle of her anxiety for her friend, Elisha felt annoyed that Veronica Atkins, of all people, should have come to the rescue. And a little jealous as well.
          'The bell went ages ago. What are you lot doing out here?' Miss Clements folded her arms and stood over them, looking stern. ‘As if it’s not bad enough falling asleep during assemblies ...’
          'Their friend went into anaphylactic shock,' Luke explained, a little contritely now that he realised it was more serious. Both girls turned their heads to him in astonishment at the word he’d used. 'She got stung by a wasp.' He'd spent so much time in hospital that he knew pretty much everything other kids came in with.
          Miss Clements frowned and nodded sympathetically. 'Oh, yes, Stephanie. Well, she's at the hospital by now. I'm sure she'll be all right.' She put an arm round each of the girls' shoulders. 'Come on now. Let's go inside and get to class. Mr Saunders will let us know what's happening as soon as he can.' They started walking together. Glancing back at Luke, the teacher said, 'You too, Luke. There's nothing we can do about it at the moment.'

Monday 5 December 2016

The Well, chapter 17

17 Back to school


All of a sudden, it was that time again, finding uniforms didn't fit, smart shoes were scuffed and tight round her toes, white knee-socks had no elastic and that all her pencils had broken leads. Yellow HB pencils - they were never the same as when they were new out of the box, beautifully sharpened to an exquisite point.

Going back to school was one of those times Elisha dreaded. She felt scared about it, unsure - would it be the same? Would she and her friends still get on or would something have happened over the summer to change them? She'd have a new form teacher who maybe wouldn't be as nice as her old one. Nervously, she combed tangles out of her hair after her shower as she worried about things that could go wrong.

They hadn't managed to get away anywhere all summer. It didn't really bother her as much as she'd thought it would in the end. But her parents seemed different somehow - the way they looked at each other over her head. They were preoccupied with money matters, making calculations in notebooks, looking at creditcard statements, waiting for red bills. Her dad would spend ages each morning going through papers looking at the job sections, ringing ads in black biro before calling people up about them. He kept playing an old LP, singing along to some of the songs, especially one that said he had to ‘get back in the line’. She thought the song sounded sad, the one about champagne and Coca-Cola was more fun and her favourite was about being an apeman. But, strangely, it always seemed to cheer her dad up. Her mum would sometimes sing too. She said it wasn’t so bad when everyone was in the same boat. Elisha knew what she meant but surely it would have been safer if not so many people were in the boat.

Last night, her mum had scrawled out a list of things not to forget, on a piece of laminated yellow paper, from her pile of rough paper, the clear back-sides of junk-mail circulars.

It meant it was normally afternoon before they could go anywhere for a day out. Other days he’d had to go to the employment exchange in the next town - this seemed to take all morning too - and when he got back he’d be in a bad mood, snapping at everyone.
Last night, her mum had scrawled out a list of things not to forget, on a piece of laminated yellow paper, from her pile of rough paper, the clear back-sides of junk-mail circulars.

It felt so weird being in school clothes again. She was in the green checked summer uniform school dress, with a dark green v-neck sweater over it. They were having what her mum called an 'Indian summer', unseasonably warm and humid, sun-filled days that only turned cold in the evenings long after she was home from school.
But even odder was having her mum come to school with her, asking Elisha if she was dressed okay, worrying about make-up and perfume, and what to say to the pupils. Although pleased she'd got the job, Elisha was in two minds over whether it would work out. It was introducing someone from her home realm into the school world, which she thought of as completely separate, where she could really be a different person. She worried about how other kids would react to her mum being there. But she had to concede that her mum looked great, her ash-blonde hair twisted up into a chignon, in a long, flowing dark-green maxi skirt and cork-soled green platform sandals. She thought she must be the best-looking mum in the world, let alone the best-looking dinner lady.

Her dad hadn't managed to get a proper job as yet. In the end he’d had to take a rather menial position that he kept saying was just temporary. He was working in a factory on the other side of town, mainly doing night shifts so that she would sometimes hear him come in, about 6.30 in the morning, his key rattling briefly in the front-door Chubb lock before connecting, being very quiet, closing the door gently behind him.

Normally he'd be in the kitchen when she got down for breakfast, would be starting off coffee and stuff, but looking tired and a bit defeated despite his attempts at cheeriness. She noticed a few white hairs at his temples and deeper lines around his eyes. As he poured her a glass of juice one morning, his hand shook very slightly. It was one of those unusually shaped smoky brown petrol station glasses. They were her favourites so that she reached and took it from him in case he dropped it.

Then he would go to bed for a while, mid-morning to late afternoon, before getting up and having something to eat prior to his next shift.
Her mother too seemed weary - she frowned more frequently than before and her voice had a slight edge to it, like she was teetering on the brink of a crevasse. Her kind brown eyes also seemed clouded and troubled more often.

Elisha knew she had to try to do something to help.

The thought of the school bell was like a death knell to the holiday. Ominous yet at the same time triumphant. It made Elisha's heart beat fast under her dress and sweater.

When it came down to it, it was exciting to see her friends again though. They rushed towards her in the playground before the bell, both chattering at once, bursting with holiday news.

Jasmine's hair was in beautiful cornrows, with different primary-coloured beads strung on the ends. Apparently, it was normally very expensive but her mum was friends with a hairdresser who did it for free. But they were all a bit worried that the school might object to the colours.

And Luke. He'd completely changed. For a long time he'd seemed to Elisha like one of those balloons that had somehow survived a birthday party and the general cruel popping at the end of the afternoon. Ever since he'd been in a slow, sad decline, doomed to shrink a little every day, gradually diminishing towards nothingness. Losing air, relinquishing life.

Now suddenly it was as if someone was blowing him up again - pumping air back into him, plumping out his flesh, making him new once more. The boy he'd been before.

Elisha didn't think she could be the only one who'd noticed his rejuvenation. His hair had grown longer and thicker, his arms were less skinny, face less pinched - he'd kind of filled out, like those women who used Oil of Ulay on TV. And he smiled more often and more widely than for the last few months. Whereas before she hadn't liked to look at him because he made her miserable, now she actually found his face, his presence cheered her up.

Also she wanted to ask his advice about what to do. He already knew about (and believed in) the well and had experienced its magic. In fact, it was as if the well had selected him and drawn him in without Elisha saying anything. So perhaps it was all right to consult him. If she just followed the rules on the paper, surely things would work out fine?

She cornered him at the morning break, finding him on a low wall by the playground, eating a Milky Way that had partly melted from being left in his bag in the sun by the class window all morning. The chocolate was leaving dark-brown gloops on his fingers that he had to lick up. He was sucking some off his right thumb when Elisha joined him.

It was hard to talk about her family situation to an outsider. But with Luke it seemed a bit easier - he listened without interrupting much until she'd finished, then crumpled the chocolate wrapper into a ball while pursing his lips and obviously thinking hard.

'So, your dad needs a better job, swiftish?'

Was this all it really boiled down to? She nodded.

'And you want to know if the rules allow you to wish for it?'

'Yes, without something bad happening by mistake.'

'Have you got them with you?'

'Er, no. I didn't want to lose them ... ' She really wasn't as good at planning things as she'd thought. Her attempts to remember the verse were not impressive and Luke's face registered this fact with a progressively more pained and exasperated expression.

'Look, bring it in tomorrow and we can go over it,' he finally said, cutting her off as she mumbled, 'One good turn forgets another.'
'Sorry. There was so much to remember this morning. And I couldn't tell my mum to write it on the list.'