Black soul rose by John Jones... - HTML preview

Brett

He had a sour look on his face. Finding out for the umpteenth time that adults rarely believe children when they came up with tall tales, because, you know, adults were always right weren’t they?

“I’m not telling lies,” said Brett Lockley to his older brother, Kieran, 19, sitting on a garden wicker chair in their small conservatory.

“Well they were found yesterday, and said they just got lost”.

“I was there. They didn’t get lost. They got kidnapped by some old men who had knives and threatened us to get in a van. They said they didn’t need me and one came at me with a knife. I turned and ran. He chased me but I got away, I was faster, he got out of breath. I ran across a field and escaped”.

“So let me get this right. You and your class-mates were orienteering across the fields. Then you reach a path, and a van pulls up with pensioners in, and they threaten you with knives to get in, then say they don’t need you, so you run off.

One chases you with a knife but you outran him”.

Brett nodded, arms folded, staring at Kieran in the hope he will be believed.

“And now come back and say they just got lost. No mention of kidnapping. Our parents didn’t bring us up to tell lies”.

9

“I’m not,” Brett said, exasperated, getting up and walking into the back room, clearly giving up.

“Don’t forget I’m running you and Jordan to karate class tonight. We can ask him then”.

Brett was moping for the rest of the day. His parents had no reason to believe him over the school deputy head who had rang them to say the children were back, and safe after several hours of being lost in the countryside.

Brett had ran and ran as fast as he could, three miles back to the supervisor who had his feet up on an outside tavern bench where he saw the red-faced panicky boy dashing at him.

“Sirsirtheothershavebeentakensomeoldmenhavetookthevantheyhadknivesandthr eatenedsoIranaway..!”

The teacher was the kind to try and be the young, trendy type, although he failed dismally, wasn’t too hygienic and was always eating crisps and never sharing any with the children, always wore dark brown.

They were missing for around three hours. Others were called in for the search just shy of calling the police. One panicky teacher had to be persuaded several times to not call the police, they were probably just lost somewhere, and if it goes on too long then the cavalry would have to be called, and she reluctantly handed over her phone. The police would not have appreciated being asked to send a search party out for a group of children who have been missing for three hours. It would be a case of:

Where did they go missing?

In the countryside.

What were they doing there?

Orienteering.

Orienteering? Map-reading out in the fields. Hmm, let me think, maybe they’ve got fucking lost. Have you thought of that? Maybe you should go and look for them rather than getting us out to find some kids that went down the wrong path. When they really have gone missing, call us then.

However, they were found before the police and any of the parents were called, because if the parents were called then that would be that, the world would know and some of them would go into panic mode if their child was missing for ten seconds.

10

Still, when they were found by their red-faced not-so-trendy really supervisor, they looked lost and distraught, blaming the trauma of it for their memory loss.

The ‘adults’ at the school had gone into panic overdrive after they returned, with meetings, informing the school board of governers down in London who dispatched three members and a child psychologist to get there as soon as possible. The headmistress was called in from her break in Cornwall, and poor old trendy teacher was out. Sacked instantly. Lack of supervision. Losing children. Easily a sackable offence. All within the space of hours since they returned. The children were to do a four-mile round trip following their maps.

No phones allowed. It was all countryside and lanes. Reach the sundial at the top of Blueberry hill, then follow a route back to the tavern.

They all had trauma counselling, people coming and going, parents arriving in panic mode, nurses checking them over before they were allowed back to their respective homes.