Six.  Nick

Nick was lying on the grass, it was lunchtime and it seemed as if the whole school had encamped on the playing fields. It was the last day of term before the summer holidays began and there was an excited buzz in the air as people chatted about their plans for the next six weeks. It was a beautiful day, the sky was blue and cloudless and the school buildings shimmered, their edges blurred in the heat haze.

Sam and Baz were having a heated argument over which was the better football team, West Ham or Manchester United but Nick was barely listening; he pushed himself up into a sitting position and began scanning the faces of the groups of girls sitting nearby.

He found to his surprise that he was looking for Olive, in fact he realised he’d been looking for her all day; but she didn’t appear to be anywhere at school.

Frustrated, Nick stood up and without a word to the dumbfounded Sam and Baz; he strode off in the direction of the main school block.
                                                         *

School was finally over and Nick having shaken off Sam and Baz , who were still arguing about football; found himself on the edge of Ellingham forest. He could see the yellow jackets of the construction workers through the trees, as he watched several large diggers rumbled past him, tearing up the soft ground of the forest floor and belching black smoke into the air.

The small group of protestors who were left waved their placards and shouted at the diggers but made no attempt to stop them. Nick realised why as he spotted a number of police with riot shields standing in front of the protestors.  Clifford had obviously called for back-up after yesterday’s disturbances.

Nick was about to turn and head for home when he spotted someone else walking through the trees, looking furtively around and clearly in a hurry – his father!

“What the …” Muttered Nick, “what on earth is he doing running around the forest, he should still be at work.”

Making his mind up quickly Nick ducked down to avoid a low branch and set off after his father, making sure to keep a safe distance between them, there was no way he wanted his father to spot him following, the repercussions didn’t bear thinking about.

Mr King walked briskly deeper and deeper into the forest, they had left behind the noise of the diggers and protestors and the forest grew darker and the trees became more dense and harder to get past. Branches clawed at Nick’s face and several times he had to stop to disentangle himself from brambles that crept across the floor of the forest and snagged on his trousers.

At last Mr King reached a small clearing deep in the forest, he stopped and looked around, he appeared to be waiting for something or someone. Nick squeezed himself behind a particularly bushy tree and waited as well, hardly daring to breathe.

The minutes ticked by and Mr King became more and more agitated, he kept looking at his watch and pacing up and down, pausing every few seconds to listen or run his eyes over the edges of the clearing.

At last sounds of something coming through the trees towards the clearing could be heard, Mr King stopped pacing up and down and stood quite still, only his head moving as he looked around to see who was coming.

A large figure emerged through the trees, alarmingly close to where Nick was standing, and strode over to Mr King. Nick had barely enough time to register that it was Clifford his father had been waiting for when a second, smaller figure appeared right in front of him. They stared at each other in shock for a second before Nick pulled the other person down to the ground and signalled for them to be quiet.

“Olive,” whispered Nick urgently, “what are you doing here?”

“My name is Elly, not Olive,” she whispered back, “and I could ask you the same question.”
                                                   *