Is (15 page)

‘Where d'you want dropping then?'

‘Oh, anywhere here'll do,' I said, desperate to get away.

‘Right.'

We went round a mini-roundabout and followed the road towards Bath. As we came out of the town and the road opened up, we pulled to a standstill.

‘Here do?'

‘Here will do fine,' I said, already pulling on the door handle to open it. ‘Thanks a lot.'

The only answer I got was the sound of the car roaring off again into the distance, leaving me, my duffle bag and sleeping bag on the kerb, staring in surprise after it.

It took a few minutes for me to calm down and then I walked back into the village. There was nothing but cottages and once again I wished I was back in my warm bed. Then, to my great relief, I noticed what was obviously a railway bridge. The tunnel must be around here somewhere, I figured. I peered into the darkness but couldn't see anything as I followed the railway lines as far as my eyes would let me. Then I crossed over the road and peered in the other direction. There, only a few hundred yards away, was the dark outline of what was most definitely a tunnel. Without doubt.

Exhausted, weary, hugely relieved, but strangely satisfied, I set off to find somewhere to stay for the night. I decided to get off the main road as soon as possible and walked down a small side lane not knowing really where I was going. There were only streetlamps every now and again so it was really quite dark. I could hardly see a thing.

I walked on further, shivering a bit with the cold and thinking how ridiculous I was doing this at all. Then I came to what appeared to be a small farm and just beyond the gate was a barn. Perfect. I slithered over the gate, keeping my two bags with me. The last thing I wanted was to drop either of them into what looked and felt like thick slimy mud. Or worse.

My feet made a squelchy noise as I tramped towards the barn. As I climbed up the bales of hay I realised how tired I was and how inviting the barn seemed. Sleep was all I craved. It was lucky I'd remembered to bring an alarm clock; I'd need that if I was going to wake up in time to get to the tunnel by dawn.

But as it turned out I needn't have worried. There was no way I was going to get any sleep that night at all.

I'd only just reached the top of the hay bales when a whole herd of cows started making its way towards the barn. Undaunted, I pulled aside some of the hay bales to make a hollow I could snuggle into, like a nest.

Early April isn't the best time to set off sleeping rough with only a sleeping bag, I can tell you. But at least the hay would keep the wind out, I thought. What it couldn't keep out was the noise.

The cows came closer and closer as I huddled myself into as small a ball as I could make. All the time they were mooing and sloshing around in the mud at the bottom of the hay barn.

Then they started pulling and munching at the hay on the lower bales. ‘They'll eat their way to the top,' I thought to myself. ‘Then they'll get me!' I no longer thought of them as a bunch of cows, more monsters, like something out of a horror movie.

But the worst thing, the very worst thing, was that they seemed to spend all night doing their business. There were the most disgusting plopping and splashing noises all around me. I looked at my watch: 12.30 a.m. Dawn, I reckoned, would be about 6.30 and that meant I needed to be away from the farm by, at the latest, 6.00 a.m. I seriously doubted there was any chance of sleep at all.

Then I started worrying about my chances of getting down from the hay loft in the morning – of ever getting down from it again in fact. The cows certainly showed no intention of moving. They just carried on munching and mooing and plopping and splashing. It was really more than I could bear.

Those next few hours were sheer hell. I couldn't do anything but lie there. I couldn't sleep. There was nothing I could do. I finished the last of my Swiss roll and waited. Then I wanted to go to the toilet myself. That was the worst thing of all. I couldn't do it here and there was no way I was going to push past those cows in the dark. I just hung on. It was torture.

But then, just when I was feeling I would burst, the cows suddenly moved away. With mournful moos they upped and went, without any warning. I could hear them trampling through the mud somewhere over the other side of the farm. It was such a relief.

I might have been relieved in one way, but not in the other. I scrambled down the bales as fast as I could and found a hidden corner behind the barn.

I looked at my watch again.

Five past six. Time to get to the tunnel.

12

Towards the Light

I shivered slightly in the early morning chill as I made my way up the lane back to the main road. When I got to the bridge I looked over and could see the vague shape of the tunnel mouth a few hundred yards in the distance.

The sky was an odd pale-grey colour and the trees showed as shadows against it. It was a strange sensation being up that time in the morning. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been up this early.

There was no sign of Is, but then I couldn't have expected to see her in that early morning light even if she had been there. I decided to go right down to the railway tracks themselves even though I knew that was against the law and very dangerous.

I crossed the road and got to a gate. It was locked with a big padlock on it and barbed wire on the top. The fence on either side of the gate was also barbed wire, but on one side the middle wire had sagged, leaving a gap large enough to scramble through.

I was very nearly clear before I managed to snag my coat. There was a horrible ripping noise and I could just imagine what Mum was going to say when she saw what I'd done.

On the other side of the fence there were some steps which led down to a ramp underneath the road bridge.

The sky was lightening by the minute and was now a very very pale bluish colour. The tunnel was more distinct and I could see the grass banks on either side, and the shapes of other trees in the distance. Birds were singing now, welcoming the dawn.

Carefully I went down the last few steps, right down to the side of the track itself.

Is wasn't here at all, that much was clear. I had been wrong. It was nearly dawn proper by now. I didn't feel quite so cold by this time; I'd probably adjusted to the shock of being up so early.

It was very strange, watching the tunnel mouth become lighter and lighter as the day began. I think I'd expected dawn to happen all of a sudden somehow but here it was, just creeping up on me. There was no sign of the sun either. Is's story about the tunnel was obviously just a myth. It had to be.

But where was she? Where on earth could she be? I had felt so sure that this was where she'd have come. After all, it was Brunel's birthday.

I stood still and listened for the slightest movement. Nothing. Only the chirping of birds and a light breeze blowing in the trees.

Every now and then a car went over the bridge I was standing underneath, someone on the way to work probably. I felt such a fool. I'd left home without telling my parents where I was going and by now they'd be as worried about me as everyone had been about Isabel.

I'd hitched all the way down here to stand in the cold, staring at a tunnel in the middle of the countryside for no reason at all. Now I was going to have to try to get lifts all the way back home again and face my parents' anger. All for nothing.

It was really quite light now. I could see the hillside on the other side of the tracks clearly, and even the fence that ran along the top. I hadn't noticed that before. The tunnel mouth itself has a sort of balustrade along the top too: really quite ornate.

I decided to walk right up to the tunnel to make quite sure that Is wasn't around somewhere, hidden in the shadows behind a bush or tree.

Surprisingly, there was really very little room between the tracks themselves and the steep banks which rose up on either side. I was careful to stay as far away from the rails as I possibly could.

I crept towards the tunnel mouth, looking around me as I went. No, nothing. It was practically dawn. The sky was really very light and even though I couldn't see the sun there was certainly no sign of anything unusual coming through the tunnel.

I felt thoroughly miserable. I had had it with Is. I kicked a piece of ballast and went to turn round, to make my way home.

And, just as I did, a tiny speck of light appeared down in the depths of the tunnel, in the blackness.

I stared, amazed, as first one beam then another joined it and grew in size. There was now what looked like a small pinpoint of light suspended way, way in the distance.

It was a small, cold, yellowy light at first. But in no time at all, it grew more and more intense.

It was happening, it really was happening! Just as Is said it would!

The sun was rising through the great tunnel at Box!

There were now shafts of brilliant white light and in them I caught sight of something else. A black speck, as if I'd held up my thumb to the light. I couldn't make it out.

The speck moved. And it dawned on me what it was. It was Is, standing with her back to me, there in the middle of the tracks, some way down inside the tunnel.

I couldn't believe it. What was she doing? She was mad.

‘Is! Is!' I yelled.

I could see her clearly outlined now as the sun burst through the tunnel.

‘Is!' I screamed. ‘Come back out here. What on earth are you doing in there? You'll be killed!'

She turned to look at me, and her face seemed pale and completely expressionless. It was as if she hadn't seen me at all. There was no recognition in her face. She had simply turned in the direction of my voice.

Is didn't say a word and then, unbelievably, she started walking away from me.

I hadn't seen a train all the time I'd been here, but there was bound to be one soon. This was complete, absolute madness.

‘Is! Come back!' I yelled again, screaming at her. ‘Is! Is!'

She walked away slowly into the tunnel, towards the light, towards the sun.

There was only one thing for it: I tore into the tunnel. Part way towards her I tripped on a sleeper and fell headfirst on to the track.

I looked up and she was still just walking slowly away as if she hadn't even noticed.

I got up and rushed after her again.

‘For God's sake, Is! Come back!' My voice was choking and there was a stinging in my eyes. I knew I was about to start crying so I bit my lip. I felt terrified. It was only blind panic that pushed me on.

Is continued to ignore me as I pounded along the track.

Just as I reached her the sun disappeared. It had gone above the tunnel mouth at the other end to rise into the sky.

Inside the tunnel it was black again. But I was close enough to make her out.

Catching hold of her sleeve, I spun her around. ‘Go away, leave me alone!' she cried.

‘Is, come out of here! You'll be killed, we'll both be killed!'

She threw her head back defiantly. ‘I don't care. I don't care.'

‘You – are – coming – with – me,' I said, trying hard to control my anger at her stupid behaviour. For such a small girl she was surprisingly strong.

I had to drag her back along the tunnel by the arm.

I pulled her towards the pale outline shape of the tunnel mouth we had come from.

‘Come on, you're coming with me,' I said firmly. After a while she resisted less and less. But when we were nearly back to the tunnel mouth, she turned around again.

‘Oh, look!' she said in a far off sort of voice. ‘The sun. It's come back!'

I turned to see what on earth she meant. There was a light, getting bigger again but not in the same way the sun had.

‘It's a train!' I yelled. ‘It's the light on the front of a train! It's the headlight. For God's sake, run!'

I pulled, dragged Is towards the safety of the circle of daylight in front of us.

This time, as we emerged from the tunnel, it was Is who tripped. She fell headlong right in the middle of the tracks.

I pulled her to her feet, her knee was bleeding but we managed to hobble over the tracks and threw ourselves on to the grass bank.

A second later, with a tremendous roar, the train came bursting out into the day. Lights from its windows went flashing past us as we lay there petrified just inches from the deadly steel wheels, slicing along the rails with a terrifying screeching sound.

As quickly as it appeared, it vanished. It had all happened so fast neither of us could believe it. Seeing a train go past that quickly and that close left us both terrified out of our wits.

We were both shaking and it wasn't from the cold.

Minutes passed before either of us said anything. We stared ahead looking at nothing. There was not a whisper of the train now. It had long gone. The only sound was the chirping of birds, as before.

Finally I forced myself to speak. ‘You okay?'