Eight.  Nick

Nick could feel Elly trembling slightly beside him but neither of them spoke; their attention was fixed on Clifford and Mr King in the clearing. They appeared to be having a rather heated conversation; he couldn’t hear everything but could make out the odd word. “Outrageous.” “Permission.” “Too slow.” “Idiot.”

Clifford took a brown envelope from inside his coat and handed it to Nick’s father who quickly stuffed it into his pocket; without another word Clifford walked back towards them, and passing far too close for Nick’s liking he disappeared into the forest.

Mr King pulled out the envelope and had a quick look inside before he too walked out of the clearing and into the trees.

Nick let out a sigh of relief, he realised he had been holding his breath and his heart was thumping against his chest. That had been a bit too close for comfort, if they’d been seen…well Nick doubted that either of them would have made it out of here in one piece.

He turned to Elly, and realising that they were still huddled together, he stood up and took a couple of steps away from her. “You Ok?” he asked. It felt awkward talking to her; he had never had a normal conversation with her before. Elly seemed to feel the same way, she looked nervous; in fact Nick thought she looked scared… of him.

He held out a hand, intending to help her up, but Elly ignored him and stood up by herself. “That was your dad wasn’t it? That man with Mr Clifford, your family have some lovely friends don’t they?”

“Clifford’s a business contact of my father, that’s all. You know you don’t really want to get mixed up in all this, whatever it is…” Nick trailed off, how could he explain without revealing what his father was really like, and to her of all people. She would probably laugh out loud if she heard how he was treated at home.

Nick felt his cheeks grow warm and he looked away; in her eyes he was no better than his father and it made him feel sick; he’d never realised before. “Oll…I mean Elly, look I’m sorry right, for, for…”

“Making me the butt of all your sad little jokes, not so big and clever when you’re on your own are you? Where are your little mates anyway? You’re normally joined at the hip; or is the forest too dark and scary for them?” Elly’s eyes blazed with fury and she gave him a contemptuous look before running off.

Nick went after her, he needed to apologise properly; the guilt of how he had behaved burned in his stomach like waves of fire. He must catch up with her, he was running now; the branches whipping at his face and roots trying to trip him up.

Deeper and deeper into the forest he ran but no sign of Elly; at last he had to stop, gasping for air and holding his sides that were aching like mad.
When he eventually got his breath back Nick looked around; he must be very deep in the forest, there was very little light and the trees here seemed very old; their trunks gnarled and covered in moss, towering above him like giant sentinels.

It was very quiet, almost unnaturally so; even the birds had stopped singing. Nick caught a slight movement to his right, thinking it might be Elly he hurried over but there was nothing there; just a huge oak tree. He walked all the way around it in case anyone was hiding behind it; but no-one was there.

Looking up at the oak Nick saw something on the trunk, he moved to get a better look and saw that someone had carved a face of a man onto the tree. It had long hair and a long beard created by carving hundreds of tiny leaves; a long nose and a mouth that was smiling if you looked one way and scowling if you looked another.

“Like the Green Man do ya?” said a voice behind Nick. He spun round in surprise and saw the oddest man he had ever seen standing in front of him. He was very old, or at least Nick thought he must be very old, it was hard to tell. A matted beard obscured most of his face, he had dark brown eyes the colour of conkers and he was dressed in a strange assortment of clothes. A piece of frayed string appeared to be holding up his trousers and his jacket and cap seemed to belong to another age. He was leaning on a home-made walking stick and staring at Nick intently.

“The Green Man,” he said again pointing at the carving with his stick, “Guardian of the forest y’know, like ‘im do ya?”

Nick opened his mouth to reply but before he could speak the peace of the forest was shattered by someone screaming.

“Elly!” he shouted and ran off in the direction of her screams, only vaguely aware that the strange man was hobbling after him.
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