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Authors: Andy Mulligan

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BOOK: Ribblestrop Forever!
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Just before lunch, Doonan returned from his shopping expedition.

He asked for six willing helpers and he led his volunteers to a flat-bed truck that had braved the mud and reversed as close as it could to the construction site. There were a dozen more bails
of rope, plus a stack of boots. There were torches, tools and a variety of sealed boxes that had been ordered by Professor Worthington for her metallurgy classes. By the time it was all safely
stowed in the camp, everyone was even more ravenous than last time.

‘You’re doing well,’ said Doonan. ‘So I’m going to suggest something controversial.’

‘What?’ said Sanchez.

‘Look what I found in town. I bought it in a charity shop.’

Doonan revealed an old, battered cricket ball. He tossed it from one hand to the other, smiling happily.

‘Cricket,’ said Miles.

‘I thought we might have a game this afternoon,’ said Doonan. ‘All work and no play, after all!’

The children stared at him. ‘It’s the most boring game in the world,’ said Miles. ‘I played it at The Priory and it stinks.’

‘We’re a football school,’ said Millie. ‘Or we were.’

‘And talking of which,’ said the headmaster, ‘we should be training for the High School match, Routon. I’ve got a feeling that’s next week.’

‘No time, sir,’ said Asilah. ‘We’ve got other priorities at the moment.’

‘Oh, come now,’ said Doonan. ‘We must make time for a bit of leisure. We could have a nice little wicket set up here, just by the . . .’ He looked around the clearing.
‘Where’s the tent gone?’

‘We took it down,’ said Israel. ‘We’re going to cut it up for costumes.’

‘Oh. Well, that gives us even more space. I don’t mind whittling the stumps and we’ve enough for two teams—’

‘We’re busy,’ said Israel. ‘We don’t have time.’

Professor Worthington stood up. ‘Doonan, I don’t mind playing, if you’re desperate. But I don’t think we should get in the children’s way. They’ve got quite a
schedule.’

‘I agree,’ said Captain Routon. ‘I think we should go back to the drive and find a bit of flat land there. I’d better call the High School and cancel that football
match.’

So it was that the teachers spent the afternoon batting and bowling, while the children worked. The headmaster returned once to the site, for an ice-cream van passed along the drive in the
mid-afternoon and he couldn’t resist the choc ices. The driver – a slightly curious-looking fellow with frizzy hair and sunglasses – offered them at a very reasonable price and
even found a box of them to sell. The headmaster met Podma in the trees.

‘Didn’t you hear the chimes?’ he said. ‘We thought you’d all come running.’

Podma was gleaming with sweat. He was stripped to his shorts, and a black-and-gold tie held his hair back.

‘Sorry, sir. Would you mind not coming into camp until later?’ he said.

‘Why not?’

‘We want it to be a surprise, sir. So they sent me to help you out.’

‘Oh. Of course. When do you want us?’

‘Late as possible, really, sir. Just before sundown?’

‘Eight or nine o’clock. Certainly. It’s all going well, is it?’

Podma nodded.

‘You will have time for the ices, won’t you? You must take a break at some point.’

‘I’m sure we will, sir. Thank you.’

Podma took the box and trotted away up the path. The headmaster turned, and headed back to the slap of bat and ball. The ice-cream van, he noticed, was now parked under Lady Vyner’s
tower.

Oli, meanwhile, was labouring over the plans. It had become his job to approve and modify, and make sense of the enthusiastic sketches of the previous evening. Nikko –
one of the youngest orphans – worked as his assistant and they were now on their fifth exercise book. Each one was smothered in red pen. The pages were carefully cross-referenced, so it
wasn’t hard to find the section dealing with rope-bridge communication and exit strategy, which was the current phase of construction and had meant yet another meeting.

‘We have to link them,’ said Asilah. ‘We don’t want anyone isolated.’

‘It’s fine,’ said Kenji, ‘but we have to use intervening trees, and that means losing more branches.

‘We don’t want them visible from the ground,’ said Miles.

‘They won’t be.’

‘I think that if they lived in the trees,’ said Vijay, ‘then they would have been able to travel right through the forest, up in the branches. We can’t make bridges for
the whole forest!’

‘We could,’ said Sam. ‘Like in one of those adventure centres.’

‘Sam,’ said Ruskin, ‘this is real. This isn’t an adventure centre. If we— ’

‘We’ll use swings for some parts,’ said Oli. ‘Look at this – 18B. But there are some stretches – I would say here and here – where we definitely need
tightropes.’

‘More wood, then? For anchor-points?’

‘Definitely. And more rope.’

‘We’re going to get attacked at some point,’ said Millie. ‘We have to assume that. Lady Vyner’s going to want us right out of the grounds, so we want to be able to
protect ourselves.’

‘That means man-traps,’ said Miles. ‘Serious ones.’

‘What about weapons?’ said Israel. ‘I think we should split into two teams—’

There was a buzz of anger and excitement.

‘No!’

‘We said we wouldn’t!’

‘Tomorrow,’ said Sanchez. ‘We do weapons and mantraps tomorrow. We’ve got to be sensible and finish the houses.’

‘Bows and arrows,’ said Caspar. ‘They’re easy. I could make them now.’

‘Come on, they’re toys,’ said Anjoli, scornfully. ‘If we’re protecting ourselves, we’re going to need proper stuff. We’ll need to go hunting,
too.’

‘We’re not going hunting,’ said Asilah. ‘What are we going to hunt?’

‘We are! Doctor Ellie said!’

Asilah grabbed Anjoli’s arm. ‘You are not going hunting until the houses are finished. I saw you, Anjoli, mucking about with . . . what is that supposed to be? War paint?’

Anjoli blushed. There were stripes of charcoal round his eyes, and he’d found a reddish clay for his chest. Caspar was similarly decorated and had a grass frill round each wrist.

‘You look like a silly kid,’ said Asilah.

‘It’s just an experiment,’ said Anjoli, quietly. ‘I’ve done as much as anyone else – I don’t see why we can’t experiment a bit.’

Asilah said something in his own language and Anjoli blushed deeper.

‘Are we going to get on?’ said Millie, in the silence that followed. ‘I want to sleep off the ground tonight and we’ve got loads to do.’

Sanchez stood up. ‘Let’s do it,’ he said. ‘Boots on, everyone. And gloves.’

Chapter Sixteen

The sky had turned pink when the teachers returned.

Doctor Ellie was with them. She’d had to drive into town in the afternoon, as she wanted to leave the precious white stone at the museum. Anjoli and Millie met them outside the camp, with
four strips of tent-canvas in their hands.

‘We’re going to blindfold you,’ said Millie. ‘You can’t come in without blindfolds.’

‘Oh,’ said the headmaster. ‘Is that going to be entirely safe?’

‘Don’t you trust us?’

‘Of course, Millie. But if we’re climbing ladders . . .’

‘You’re not a prisoner or anything,’ said Anjoli. ‘And you’ll each have a guide.’

Doctor Ellie nodded grimly. ‘It’s entirely sensible. I’m sure the tribe would have been cautious about those who strayed in from outside. The instincts are kicking in, you
see.’

‘We’re going quite high,’ said Millie. ‘So don’t make any sudden moves.’

‘Lead on, my dear,’ said Captain Routon. ‘We’ll be careful.’

Minutes later, the adults moved cautiously into the camp, aware that there was a hush all around them. Not a foot stirred. An occasional bird chirped, but there wasn’t a hammer or saw to
be heard, and nobody was talking. They could smell the resin of wood and smoke from bonfires. Seconds later, the headmaster found his hands on the uprights of a crudely made ladder.

‘You all right, sir?’ said a voice in his ear.

‘Yes, thank you, Israel. Perfectly.’

‘Okay, miss?’

‘Right as rain. Is that Nikko?’

‘Yes. Just feel with your feet. And don’t be scared.’

‘It’s sixty-eight steps,’ said someone. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘We’re all fine,’ said Professor Worthington. ‘I just hope these knots have been checked. If I do have an accident, I’m going to be looking for the culprit.
Assuming I survive, that is. How high are we going?’

Vijay climbed first, and soon the ladder up to Tree House One was thick with children, gently guiding the adults. The ladders twisted and turned and bent back on themselves in complicated
elbows. A breeze was soon rustling the leaves and swaying the branches. Gentle hands steered, and when the orphans spoke, it was softly, in their own language.

At last they felt a solid floor under their feet and they were aware that it was moving.

‘All right, Doctor Ellie?’

‘Splendid, thank you. Are we there, at last?’

‘Yes,’ said Sanjay. ‘First platform.’

The blindfolds were removed, but the adults kept their eyes tight shut. The headmaster had his hands over his face.

‘Can we look?’ he said. ‘I’ve got a feeling this is going to be wonderful.’

‘Oh my goodness,’ whispered Doctor Ellie.

‘What?’

She had opened her eyes.

She stepped back into the guiding arms of Asilah and Imagio. The headmaster blinked and he too nearly fell forward – there were hands to steady him. Captain Routon uttered a groan and
Professor Worthington gasped. The headmaster was immediately dizzy and grabbed at a supporting beam, sure that he was falling. They were way too high – it was like being up in a balloon at
the top of the world. There were walls to the tree house, but they were woven like a bird’s nest and had wide windows. Through the windows he could see the tops of the trees, undulating on
all sides in golden sunlight. Above the trees he could see a sky that was turning to rich purple, with the first peppering of stars.

There was a staircase up to an even higher platform. It had handrails and the children led the teachers up again. It was like a veranda, floating on two massive branches, rearing high over the
forest. In the distance they could see the school, a blush of pink beside the lake.

The tree houses were huge. Other platforms floated in the trees nearby and there were bridges so carefully made they looked like extensions of the trees themselves.

Everything was shifting slightly and whispering, as timbers rubbed against timbers. There was an allowance for movement – nothing was straining, for the wood moved with the trees.

‘We thought the lower room could be the main teaching area,’ said Imagio. He was perched on a branch, the other side of the handrail. ‘If you wanted to . . . you know, do a
lesson or something.’

‘This is a boys’ dormitory too,’ said Sam. ‘Millie’s got her own platform a bit lower.’

‘We started on the next one, but we didn’t get far.’

‘We ran out of time.’

‘What do you think, sir?’

‘Do you like it, miss?’

‘Miss? What are you thinking?’

The questions persisted, but the adults were speechless. They had to be sat down and given time, for the house they were in was simply too magnificent for words. Professor Worthington put her
hand on the headmaster’s shoulder and patted it. Anjoli gave her a rather dirty handkerchief and everyone watched as she blew her nose and dabbed her eyes.

Doctor Ellie said quietly, ‘Could it have been as good as this? For the lost tribe of Ribblemoor – was Eleudin held here, to gaze over trees like these?’

‘Who’s Eleudin?’ said Tomaz.

‘Oh, you’ll be meeting him soon. He’s a sad little chap. Could they have had as much fun as this, though, when it was their forest?’

She went to the rail and leant on it, gazing out.

‘There are ladders on the stone, you know,’ she said. ‘I’ve been at the museum most of the day. Ladders, fish, trees . . . lightning bolts. This . . . this isn’t a
fantasy.’

‘What’s the matter, miss?’

‘I can see them. I can see them, in the trees. Can’t you?’

‘Who?’ said Miles.

‘It’s the light. It’s my eyes, maybe, but . . . Can’t you see them? I didn’t tell you, did I? People swear they do see them sometimes and hear them laughing. Out on
the flare paths, when you come across them. I thought I heard someone then – listen . . .’

She heard a clink of glass and turned to find Sanjay with the inevitable tray of rum. She took one and turned back, straining her eyes and ears. The new homes had to be blessed, of course, for
the sun was giving way to the moon. If the Caillitri were laughing, then their laughter was swallowed up in the final cries of birds and the whispering of the children.

‘We are going to find them,’ she said, smiling. ‘I can feel it. They’re closer than ever – and I think they want to be found.’

That night she produced a flute and played soft melodies in the treetops. The children slept and dreamt of ancient music.

Chapter Seventeen

A few days later, a hot-air balloon was seen in the sky.

Sanjay spotted it first and alerted the others. Everyone had worked so hard at disguising the homes from below that it seemed an outrage that anyone could be watching from above.

‘They won’t see much,’ said Millie. ‘Just trees.’

Israel disagreed. ‘They might see our smoke,’ he said. ‘We ought to train more green over the platforms. It would make them cooler too.’

‘We should put the forge on the other side of the spring,’ said Tomaz. ‘I told Professor Worthington, but she wouldn’t listen.’

‘Who do you think’s coming to get you?’ said Sanchez.

Millie looked at him. ‘Oh, nobody,’ she said. ‘We have no enemies. We’re a peace-loving people.’

‘You think the police are up there?’

‘Maybe.’

‘You’re paranoid.’

‘I’ve always preferred paranoia to stupidity. And remember something, Sanchez. I’ve been right twice. You’ve been wrong twice. Now don’t those statistics tell you
anything?’

Miles said, ‘I believe in predators, so I suggest we upgrade all weapons. We need long-range spears. The stuff we’re making at the moment is for kids.’

BOOK: Ribblestrop Forever!
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