Chapter 37
Puck's Dell, Stumblefrith Forest, Wealdshire. Sunday 24 May 1998
Gerard Starling had to think for a moment before he could remember where he was. It was still dark in the bender but he could see faint glimmers of light beginning to filter in around the edges of the fabric door.
A hushed voice asked him, 'Are you awake?'
'Yes, Mum.'
'How did you sleep?'
'Okay. Blankets were a bit itchy, though.'
'That woman — Martha was it? She said she'd get us some sleeping bags today. I don't know why your father couldn't have brought ours.'
'Bit dangerous, I expect. He might have been followed.'
'I've been awake for ages. Those birds woke me up. I didn't know they started their racket this early in the morning. They don't do it at home.'
'They probably do, but the double glazing keeps the sound out.'
There was silence in the bender for a while as those occupants who were awake listened to the dawn chorus.
'Mum?'
'Yes.'
'I like hearing the birds sing.'
'Good God, Gerard. Next thing I know, you'll be telling me you're enjoying staying here.'
'Well . . . actually . . .'
Shadow gave them until 8 o'clock. 'Time to get up,' he called as he stooped down outside the communal bender. 'You've lots to do today. Ant is going to show you how to build your own benders.' He listened for a response but heard only some low muttering. He wasn't sure what was being said, but guessed that the occupants of the bender weren't terribly enthused by his announcement. 'Shall we say half an hour? That'll give you time to grab some breakfast.'
Shadow waited until he heard a grunt that sounded as if it was probably an acknowledgment, then stood up and walked away. If he'd stayed he might have heard Penelope complaining that she couldn't possibly get up on a Sunday morning until she'd had her Sunday Times, toast and coffee. Or Jaine-Marie telling him to do something particularly revolting to himself because she always stayed in bed till lunchtime on Sundays. Or Gerard saying, 'Great! No more sharing a bender with these moaners.'
Jerry Sanders arrived just before ten, gave Misty what he hoped was his sexiest smile as he walked past her, and headed straight for Shadow's bender. 'How's tricks?' he asked. 'Is Misty still planning on marrying that Rupert bloke?'
Shadow grinned. 'Morning, Jerry. Tricks are all right and yes she is. Tough, mate.'
Jerry clapped his hand to his chest and tried to look heartbroken. 'What a waste. Never mind. Tell me what's been going on. I see you have some new recruits.'
'New recruits,' Shadow spluttered. 'I think the term is 'pressed men' — or 'pressed people' if you insist on political correctness.'
'What! Are you telling me you're sending out press-gangs now?'
'Uh . . . not exactly,' said Shadow is he crawled out of his bender. 'We have three people who are seeking sanctuary here — not totally willingly, I should add.'
'Fugitives? Hell's bells, Shadow! This place gets more like Sherwood Forest every day. When do I start calling you Robin?' A thought suddenly occurred to him and, nudging Shadow so hard that he almost knocked him over, he sniggered, 'Hey — I know who could be Maid Marion.'
'I'm going to throw a bucket of cold water over you.'
Jerry wagged his finger. 'Can't do that, old chap. Mustn't waste water. Have to conserve your resources.' He yelled as Shadow grabbed the wagging finger and bent it back. 'Okay okay okay. No more jollity. See — straight face.' With his free hand he drew an imaginary zip across his lips. 'So who are your sanctuary-seekers. I'm intrigued. Are the cops after them? Or . . .' he snorted, 'is it the Sheriff of Nottingham?'
'Sheriff of Nottingham? It'll be the Sheriff of Wealdshire who'll be visiting us when the eviction starts. And that could be very interesting . . . because, if they're still here . . . he'll have to evict the family of the Superintendent of Roads and Transportation.' Shadow waited to see how Jerry would handle this bombshell. He wasn't disappointed.
Jerry's mouth fell open so far that Shadow lowered his head and peered inside. Jerry's eyebrows shot up so far that they disappeared beneath his hair. 'What . . . what . . . how . . . why . . .?'
'Do you know? — I can see all the way to the back of your throat.'
Jerry closed his mouth and gave a poor imitation of a ventriloquist as he tried to speak through tightly- clamped lips. 'Okay. Tell all. I'm all ears.'
By the time Shadow had finished filling Jerry in on all that had happened, Jerry was bubbling with excitement. 'That's fantastic. Tremendous. Think what an advantage that gives us. It's as good as having them as hostages. We can forc—' He stopped when he saw Shadow shaking his head. 'No? What are you trying to tell me?'
'I don't want to take unfair advantage of the situation. We're going to look after the Starlings because they need protecting.' He saw Jerry's face fall, and waited to be told that he was the biggest fool Jerry had ever known — and all's fair in love and war — and protecting the environment was more important than the feelings of a handful of people — and the end justifies the means. But Jerry said nothing. Shadow put both hands on Jerry's shoulders. 'However, just because we're not going to take advantage doesn't mean that there won't be advantages.'
'How do you mean?'
'Well, think about it. If the Starlings are still here when the eviction takes place, is Andrew Starling going to leave his family here to face the bailiffs? Answer — no. Imagine the field day that the press would have. He'll have no choice but to remove them just before the eviction begins. So, my friend, we have our own built-in early warning system.'
'Shadow — you're a genius.'
'Yes — I know. And so are you. Tell me what's been happening with the rounding-up-the-supporters plan.'
'Well. It's going well,' Jerry declared, unable to disguise the fact that he was feeling really pleased with himself, 'In fact — I have to say that it's been far more successful than I'd ever hoped.'
'Great! How many bods do you think we can muster on eviction day?' Shadow asked expectantly.
'Hmmm. Let me see. I think we can definitely count on a few hundred — and I'll be really disappointed if we get less than a thousand turning up.'
Shadow punched the air. 'Yes! — I said you were a genius.'
'Does that make us geniuses or genii?'
Shadow scratched his chin. 'It's gonna be a magic day when they try to get rid of us, so how about if we settle for genii?'
'Yeah, genii,' Jerry agreed. 'All we need now is a bottle.'
'You old boozer,' Shadow teased. 'It's much too early for that. Let's go and see how the Starlings are getting on.'
As they walked towards where Penelope and Jaine-Marie were trying to get to grips with the mysteries of bender construction, Shadow remembered he had to tell Jerry about the steel plates.
'Excellent!' cried Jerry. 'Is it very tricky getting them into place?'
'Yeah. It's a hell of a job. We have to slide them along an inch at a time. The most difficult part is getting them down the shafts.'
'It'll be worth it, though, if you can get them all into place.'
'Oh yes oh yes oh yes.' Shadow tapped the side of his nose. 'I think we can safely say that Project Phantom Digger will cause quite a few red faces.
'Mother! Just tie those two branches together.'
Penelope was holding the tips of two hazel rods which had been pushed into the ground. She was trying to bend them together and tie them to make an arch. She wasn't having a great deal of success. 'This is stupid,' she bewailed. 'They won't stay still while I tie them. Can't you hold them for me? I don't know why we can't stay in that big hut.'
'It's a bender, Mother. We can't carry on living in the big one because everyone likes to use it when it's raining.'
'Yes, and I can imagine what they all get up to,' Penelope retorted.
'You don't have to join in.'
'No, I wouldn't want to. And don't you go getting any silly ideas! You keep well away from those . . . people.'
Jaine-Marie, exasperated with her mother, put her hands on her hips, threw her head back and snorted. 'Mother dear — you'd have to drag me screaming and kicking if you wanted me to mix with that lot.'
'Good. I'm pleased to hear it. Now help me with these silly branches.'
Jaine-Marie took a rod in each hand and pulled them down until she could hold both in one hand. 'Shhh,' she hissed. 'Ant is coming back.'
It was Penelope's turn to place hands on hips. 'I don't care who hears me. I say what I think and I say what I like. If people don't like it — that's their problem.'
'How're you doing?' asked Ant.
Penelope dropped her hands to her side, turned round and, giving Ant her sweetest smile, said, 'I think we're getting there, thank you.'
She wasn't sure what to make of Ant. He was rather small — hence the name — and had such an angelic face that Penelope kept wanting to cuddle him. He was intelligent, but didn't talk down to people and, much to Penelope's surprise, was so polite and well-spoken that, at first, she thought he'd been poking fun at her by mimicking her voice. On the other hand, he was one of these weirdos who thought that saving a few silly trees was more important than anything else. In Penelope's world, one's worth was measured in terms of house, car, job (or partner's job), and position in society. Anyone who believed those criteria to be unimportant was, by implication, suggesting that she was of little value. She didn't like people who thought that way. And she was very suspicious of people who had purple hair.
Shadow and Jerry arrived on the scene. Shadow started to make the introductions. Penelope took one look at Jerry and wanted to hide but, unless she could rapidly dig a burrow in the earth, had nowhere to conceal herself. She knew this person. He regularly cut her hair. What would he think of her — standing here in the middle of a forest trying to make herself a shelter?
'Good morning, Mrs Starling,' Jerry greeted her. 'How lovely to see you here. I hope you're planning to stay for a while. Maybe you can knock this bunch into shape. They could do with a bit of class round here. How are you enjoying yourself?'
Penelope wasn't often stuck for something to say. Usually, her sharp tongue was cutting and slashing while her brain was still accessing its word bank. What Jerry had said, however, definitely required her to think before answering. Jerry, the high-class hairdresser whose personal attention was demanded by all the most prominent ladies in the district, was one of these protesters. He was delighted to see that she had joined them. He was suggesting that she could civilize these scruffy people. Yes, this certainly needed some thinking about. 'What a surprise, Jerry. I didn't realise that you had anything to do with the road protest. I've always said that we have to do our little bit to protect the environment. Don't you agree?'
Jerry gave the sort of smile that he usually reserved for the salon. 'Indeed I do, Mrs Starling. I agree wholeheartedly. I think you'd be surprised if you knew who else supports the action that these brave eco- warriors are taking.'
'Really?' Penelope replied in a tone which meant, 'Spill the beans, Buster. Tell me the names of all the influential people who support these dropouts.'
'Oh yes. I was looking through our list of supporters only this morning. There are vicars, doctors, solicitors, stockbrokers, bankers, people of private means and, of course, their partners.'
'How absolutely fascinating, Jerry,' Penelope purred. 'Actually, it's quite a coincidence that you're here.' Tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, she continued. 'I wanted to ask your advice about something but, as you can see, I'm going to be far too busy to visit the salon this week.' She turned to her daughter and said, 'If you can carry on without me for a while, Jaine-Marie, I just want a private word with my stylist.'
Jerry tried very hard not to smirk as he allowed himself to be led away for the inquisition.
Jaine-Marie thrust her hands into the deep pockets of the trousers that someone had lent her, and stared at her mother's back with a look of disbelief. When she saw the understanding smiles that Shadow and Ant were giving her, she raised her eyebrows and said, 'I seem to have lost my assistant. Ant, could you give me a hand — please?'
Shadow realised that Gerard was nowhere to be seen. 'Where's your brother?' he asked, his face showing a touch of concern.
'Oh — he decided he wanted to live in a tree.' She pointed upwards. 'He's up there. Twiggy is helping him to build a tree house.'
Shadow walked across to the base of the tree and looked up. 'Gerard! How's it going up there?'
A face appeared over the edge of a newly-constructed platform. 'This is awesome!'
'Twiggy's good at building tree houses, isn't she?'
'Yeah. Not bad — for a girl,' Gerard called back.
'Watch what you say or she'll tip you out.'
'Nah, she won't. Anyway, I've got a safety harness on.'
'Good. Your mum will be relieved. See ya later.'
Misty discovered Shadow staring vacantly at a tree. 'Where are you?' she asked his back.
Shadow whipped round. 'Sorry?'
'You looked as if you were miles away.'
'I was chatting to Gerard. Twiggy is helping him to make a tree house.' Shadow raised his arms and stretched. 'I was just thinking that maybe . . . just maybe . . . those Starlings won't be quite such pains in the arse as I'd expected. We might make pixies of them yet.'
Misty reached forward and playfully pushed him in the chest. 'Must be your good influence,' she laughed.
'I doubt it. I think it's more likely that you've been running round dropping happy spells everywhere.'
Misty tossed her hair back. 'Well, I did tell the tree sprites that we had three guests who could benefit from their attention.'
'Ah, that must be it, then.' Shadow looked at his watch. 'Talking of things magic, there won't be time today, but do you fancy visiting Blackfriars Wood tomorrow? You said you'd like to check it out sometime.'
Misty rubbed her hands together. 'It's a date,' she said.