No Stone Unturned (12 page)

‘Tyson and I found something too.' Ben showed Kelly the remains of an old trowel. The handle had long since rotted away in the ground but the spike by which it had been attached, and the shape of the trowel itself, were clearly recognisable, despite being encrusted with rust-stained soil.

‘Well, aren't we a couple of budding archaeologists!' said Kelly, with a smile. I think this deserves a celebratory photo, don't you? I can put it on Facebook. Our first find.'

Kelly proudly arranged the mug, the trowel and her diamond-shaped piece of limestone on a large rock nearby.

Then she turned back to Ben. ‘Right. I need you to go over there and stand next to our finds. I want you in the photo too.'

‘Why? Surely it's the artefacts that matter most.'

‘Yes, but we need to give some idea of scale, so if you stand next to them people can see how big the objects are, and I can show how high that slope is behind you, too. Besides, it will be nice to have you in it.' Ben seemed reluctant to move. ‘What? Don't tell me you're camera shy!' Kelly cried.

‘No, I just think that it should be you in the picture, not me. Your teacher will want to know that you've done this yourself.'

‘Okay, but he won't mind me having some help. I tell you what, I'll put it on self-timer. That way we can both be in it.'

Although still reluctant, Ben waited patiently while Kelly fiddled with the controls and made sure that the camera was positioned in just the right place to get them both in the frame.

By the time the little green light had flashed itself to a frenzy, and the shutter had finally clicked, minutes had passed. Kelly was just about to check the shot when Ben shouted, ‘Hey Kel, where's Tyson?'

Clearly, the little dog had got bored of sniffing around in the same spot and had wandered off to find something more interesting to explore.

Kelly called his name, but there was no response. She tried again, and they strained their ears to see if they could hear him rustling about in the bushes.

‘What was that?' whispered Kelly, reaching out to try to catch Ben's arm. ‘Did you hear that tapping sound?'

There it was again. Tap, tap, tap. Quiet at first but gradually getting louder.

‘It's coming from up there,' said Ben, pointing to the slope they had scrambled down. ‘It must be Tyson. Tyson!' he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Silence. Then the tapping sound resumed. Kelly felt the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. Ben would probably laugh at her if she said it, but to her the noise sounded like someone chipping away at a piece of stone. If you let your imagination run away with you, she thought, it could very easily have been someone working in the quarry.

Ben took control. ‘Come on,' he whispered. ‘I think we had better get out of here. Whatever that noise is, it's not Tyson.'

He set off straight away, but Kelly, remembering her precious finds, ran back to load the stone, the old cup and trowel into her canvas shoulder bag. Not wanting to damage her camera, she pulled off her jacket and wrapped her camera in it, then placed that on top of the objects in the bag. She was moving as quickly as she could, but when she looked up Ben had disappeared from view and it dawned on her that she had no idea which way he had gone. Had he climbed back up the way they had come down, or had he gone another way, away from the source of the strange noise? She had no idea but, remembering Ben's warning about the quarry sides collapsing, she was too scared to take any other path than the one she had come down. She would just have to take her chances with the mystery quarryman.

She ran up the first part of the bank and then began to scramble up through the bushes. The higher she climbed, the steeper the bank grew, and she began to struggle to keep her footing, especially now that she had the added handicap of the heavy canvas bag, which kept swinging around her thighs, knocking her off balance.

She began to tremble, not knowing what she was more frightened of—falling back down, not being able to find Ben and Tyson, or running into a pick-wielding zombie. Her fear mounting, she was about to cry out when she looked up and saw a patch of blue sky above her. She was near to the top.

The thought of reaching ground level again spurred her on, and with one final effort, she launched herself up to catch hold of a low-hanging branch and used it to lever herself upwards to the lip of the quarry. That was when her eyes drew level with a pair of muddy old boots. Someone was towering over her. She froze, too terrified to look up to see who the boots belonged to.

Then a gruff voice. ‘Grab my hand!'

Kelly glanced upwards, half expecting to see the ghostly figure of an old quarryman. But the whiskered face peering down at her belonged firmly in the twenty-first century. It was a local rambler—an angry one, his metal-tipped walking stick tapping furiously on the rocks at the pit edge. He pulled Kelly up to her feet beside him and almost dragged her through the bushes and back over the barbed wire fence. ‘What on God's earth did you think you were doing down there young lady?' he growled. ‘Did yer parents never tell you that disused quarries were not the best places to play? You could have got yerself killed.'

Kelly was about to reply when she noticed Tyson, tethered to the fence post. He was baring his teeth and letting out a low but persistent grumble. The man had used his belt as a makeshift lead and had looped it through Tyson's collar then over the post. Seeing Kelly, the furious little dog tried to shake himself free, and began biting at the belt.

‘Oi, you little blighter. My wife bought me that belt!' He took a step towards Tyson.

‘I'll stop him!' Kelly cried out, worried what the man was about to do. Taking his lead from her pocket, she dashed over to Tyson and swapped it for the belt.

‘So, he's your mutt, is he?' the man snarled. ‘I found him running free in the field up here. Having a whale of a time, he was, racing about, chasing the rabbits. You're just lucky that there weren't any sheep up here. A loose dog like that, running amok, could get himself shot. It was as much as I could do to catch hold of ‘im.'

‘I'm sorry,' Kelly said. ‘But he's very protective towards me, so he doesn't like strangers handling him. I do usually keep him on the lead, but I knew there weren't any farm animals about.'

The man didn't soften. ‘You still haven't told me what you were doing down there in the old quarry. You've no right to be there. You should stay on the footpath. If the farmer doesn't know you, he'll assume you're trespassing. And he can be a grumpy old so and so, can Tony. I can say that, cos he's a mate of mine. I live in the village.'

‘Oh, it's okay,' replied Kelly, surreptitiously wiping the slobber off the man's belt on her jeans before handing it back. ‘My friend, he's with me…' She looked around. ‘Or at least, he was. He must have gone the other way. You spooked us a little and I got left behind. But wherever he is, his dad helps to look after the farm. He's allowed to play here. He comes here all the time.'

‘Does he now?' remarked the rambler, raising his eyebrows. ‘Well, allowed or not, that old quarry is dangerous. I'd find somewhere else to play, if I were you.'

Kelly really didn't like this pompous old man, with his designer walking gear and his fancy walking stick, which he pointed accusingly at her when he spoke. Normally she would have told him where to go, but not wanting to get Ben into trouble (where
was
he?) she bit her tongue, mumbled her thanks and hurried off to find Ben.

She found him sitting waiting for her on the tree trunk by the old lime kiln.

‘I thought this would be a good place to wait for you. What happened?' he asked, giving her a lopsided smile.

‘A man caught me climbing up the bank. That rambler. Didn't you see him?'

‘Nope.' Ben shook his head. ‘I must have gone a different way.'

‘Well lucky old you!' said Kelly, a little annoyed, now, that Ben had gone off without making sure she was following. ‘He wasn't very nice. He'd caught Tyson and had him tied to the post and was talking about how the farmer would shoot him. Oh, and he said he knew Tony.'

‘Tony?'

‘The farmer. The one your dad works for.'

‘Oh, that Tony.' Ben looked anxious. ‘Did he say anything else?'

‘Only that we ought to find somewhere safer to hang out. Listen, are you sure we're okay to go into the quarry? The man was right, really. It
is
pretty dangerous.'

‘Well, no one has stopped me before,' said Ben defensively.

That's not quite the same thing
, thought Kelly to herself, but not wanting to get into an argument she let it go.

‘I'm bushed,' she said, flopping down onto the tree trunk next to him. ‘You know, if you don't mind, I might head home. I think Tyson and I have had enough excitement for one day and I don't want to bump into that man again.'

Ben shrugged, obviously far less shaken by the whole episode than Kelly.

‘I think I'll take these into school on Monday, to see what Mr Walker makes of them,' Kelly said, patting the canvas by her side.

Ben offered to walk Kelly and Tyson back across the fields. When they reached the railway bridge, he announced that he had better turn back and head off in the direction of home.

‘Okay,' agreed Kelly, grateful that he had stayed with her that far, in case they met up with the miserable rambler. ‘Thanks for showing me the quarry today.'

Ben smiled. ‘My pleasure. By the way, Kel. That boot you, well, Tyson found…'

‘Yeah?'

‘Can I see it?'

‘Why?'

‘I dunno. I just wondered if you might be right. If it
could
be a clue or a link to the past.'

‘To what exactly?'

‘To the people who built the railway.'

Kelly's face brightened. ‘So you agree with me? It might be old?'

Ben gave a little shrug. ‘Well, it's possible. Let's just say, I might have a way of finding out.'

‘Now I'm curious.' Kelly laughed. ‘Okay, I'll bring it next time we meet. Next Saturday maybe? On the canal bridge? Midday?'

‘Sounds perfect,' said Ben.

Chapter 16 – September 2012

T
he Shakespeare Academy had a rule about not carrying bags around school. Every student was given a locker and encouraged to store their outdoor coats, bags and rucksacks there for the day, taking to lessons only the folders, books and pens and pencils they needed. The idea was introduced, said the school prospectus, to reduce the amount of lost property, and to protect students and staff from pupils who might otherwise smuggle unsuitable items into lessons. Whether a lump of rock, a jagged metal masonry tool and an old tin cup were the kind of items the headteacher had in mind when he introduced the new policy, Kelly wasn't sure, although she was pretty certain that he would consider them to be unsuitable.

So when she arrived at school on Monday morning, with her usual school bag slung over her right shoulder and her canvas bag slung over her left, she headed straight for her locker, planning on stowing away the artefacts until her history lesson after lunch.

Kelly's locker was at the end of the corridor along from her tutor room. Her morning bus always got her to school with plenty of time to spare, so it was usually quiet by the lockers when Kelly arrived. But not that morning. Leaning against the wall, one foot casually up behind her where it had already left a muddy smear on the fresh paintwork, was Charlotte, texting someone on her mobile phone. As always, Leanne was at her side.

‘Well, look who it is!' Charlotte chanted, as she glanced up and saw Kelly approaching. ‘If it isn't Miss Smart Arse who owns a real car with four wheels. That was what she said, wasn't it, Leanne?'

Leanne remained silent, looking away. Charlotte pulled herself upright and took a step closer to Kelly.

‘So tell me, Traveller girl, how many
horse
power does your precious car have?'

‘Oh, ha ha. Very funny,' said Kelly, rolling her eyes. She stepped sideways to make for her locker, but Charlotte shot out her hand and grabbed Kelly by the arm.

‘What's in the bag?'

Kelly looked down at Charlotte's hand and then back up to meet the half-closed, sneering eyes.

‘D'ya mind? I need to get to my locker.'

‘Yeah, I do mind, actually. You didn't answer my question,
pikey
. I said, what's in the bag?'

‘Nothing that you would be interested in, believe me.' Kelly shook her arm to escape Charlotte's grip. Charlotte loosened her fingers, but only so that she could grab the strap of the canvas bag instead.

‘Let go!' muttered Kelly through gritted teeth, her nose just a few centimetres from Charlotte's.

‘Or what?' sneered Charlotte, rocking her head from side to side in a taunting swagger. ‘You'll put a Gypsy curse on me?'