The Secret Lake Read online

  ‘Where you two goin’? They after you too?’ bellowed a voice from below. Stella was so startled, she nearly lost her footing. Clinging on tightly, she looked down to see the scruffy young boy staring up at her.

  ‘Keep going, Tom!’ she called, glancing back up. ‘It’s the boy who stole the silver – they’ll be coming for him!’

  Immediately Tom started scrambling more quickly up through the dense branches above. Stella quickly followed.

  Higher and higher they went, all the time expecting the darkness to envelop them. But the tunnel didn’t appear. All they could see was clear blue sky filtering through the last remaining branches above.

  Stella’s heart sank. ‘Tom! The tunnel’s not here. We’d better go down,’ she called, trying not to sound scared.

  Thud! Stella landed beside the boy who was sitting with his back up against the side of the tree. Thud! Down came Tom, binoculars, trowel and all.

  ‘So,’ said the boy, smiling, ‘looks likes we’s all in trouble!’ He paused, briefly, as he looked them up and down. Then he pulled the funniest of faces. ‘What them outfits you wearin’ then? You from a circus, or what?’

  ‘We’re not in any trouble, thanks! You are!’ said Stella sharply. She didn’t trust this thief one little bit and clung tightly to her iPhone in case he tried to steal it.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ said Tom. ‘I wish we’d brought our lunch boxes, Stell.’

  ‘’Ere you go lad!’ The boy reached into a paper bag beside him and held out a large hunk of white bread.

  ‘How do we know that’s not poisonous!’ said Stella.‘You are a thief after all. They told us all about you in the garden!’

  The boy sighed ‘I never stole nothin’!’

  ‘Yes you did!’ said Stella. ‘You took some silver! It’s lucky they didn’t arrest us!’

  The boy slowly shook his head. ‘It ain’t true,’ he said wearily.

  Stella frowned at him suspiciously.

  ‘Look. Sit down will yer. An’ let that boy ’ave summet ter eat. There’s loads ’ere and we ain’t goin’ no-where ’til the sun goes down. I’m Jack by the way. Nice ter meet yer!’

  Despite what she’d heard, Stella couldn’t help liking Jack after all. He had a warm smile and friendly brown eyes, and, most importantly, he seemed concerned about Tom.

  Soon they were all chewing on the soft white bread and listening to the chatter of the birds in the trees.

  ‘So why do they say you stole something if you didn’t?’ asked Stella.

  Jack shook his head slowly, then started to explain. How his father, Jacob, had been one of the builders of the houses in the garden, and afterwards did regular building work for the Gladstones and the other houses in the garden. How, one day, after some silver went missing in the house, he was falsely accused of stealing by one of the servants and sent to jail. How he was now free, but was a broken man with no-one to recommend him and without any of his work tools which he’d kept in the Gladstones’ cellar. Finally, how he, Jack, had snuck into the house to try to retrieve his father’s tools to help him.

  ‘Pa lives fer ’is work,’ said Jack. ‘An’ without it I don’t think he’ll go on much longer. He’ll die of a broken mind or else hunger, that’s for sure. An’ if it ain’t that we’ll all end up in the workhouse – an’ I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.’

  The children sat in silence. Stella held her knees and stared at the ground. She felt terrible for having called Jack a thief.

  ‘Anyways,’ Jack went on, ‘that’s when I sees Crawley stealin’ silver from the Gladstones!’

  Tom frowned suspiciously. ‘That horrid man we met in the garden?’

  ‘You saw Crawley take the silver?’ said Stella.

  ‘Sure as I can be,’ said Jack. ‘See, I’d snuck inter the kitchen through the garden door ter get ter the cellar, when I ’eard someone comin’. So I slips up the back stairs an’ immediately spots Crawley acting funny comin’ from one o’ the rooms. Looked like he was carrying summet under ’is jacket. ’E never saw me, but ’e disappeared right quick down ter the garden. Saw ’im with me own eyes from the balcony window up there.’

  Jack described how he’d gone to look for Crawley in the garden and how, within minutes, half the household was chasing across the garden calling him a thief.

  ‘How did you manage to escape?’ asked Tom, his eyes widening.

  Jack started to smile. ‘Now there’s a story! I was runnin’ towards the trees when all of a sudden I sees the moles me pa told me about. An’ I swear it was just that moment when them folk stopped chasin’ me! They thought they’d lost me, but I weren’t that far ahead! That’s why I decides to row over – jus’ ter be on the safe side.’

  ‘Moles? What do moles have to do with anything?’ said Stella, frowning.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Jack, ‘but I knows they’s special.’ He sat up straight and smiled proudly. ‘It was pa who discovered ’em – on the firs’ day they set to preparing yon’ land for buildin’. Whole place was shrouded in mist. Then, out o’ the blue ’e sees these moles scuttling in a circle not fifty feet away, near a group of trees.’

  Tom and Stella stared wide-eyed at Jack.

  Jack went on. ‘Course when pa told everyone else, they all said ’e was mad. Moles don’t come out in the daylight ’n all. An’ they certainly don’t run round in circles neither! Everyone made a joke of it, but ’e knew they meant summet special. Carried on seein’ ’em right up ter when Gladstone threw ’im out.’

  ‘Jack, I’ve seen the moles too!’ said Stella excitedly. ‘I saw them through Tom’s binoculars when we came down the tree. I thought I was imagining it!’

  ‘And I saw them in our garden when we first went looking for Harry,’ chipped in Tom. ‘And just before we found the tunnel! I thought I was dreaming, Stell!’

  Jack looked confused. ‘Your garden? A tunnel? What you talkin’ about?’

  Stella hesitated for a moment then took a deep breath. She somehow knew that she could trust Jack. ‘It’s a bit hard to explain, Jack,’ she said. ‘And I don’t really understand what’s happened. But, well, you see, Tom and I, we’re not from this time. We’re from a time in the future – the next century actually – and we live in the Gladstones’ house there.’

  Jack opened his mouth to say something, but the words carried on tumbling out of Stella’s.

  ‘Oh – except it’s not one house any more. It’s been divided into flats – and we live on the lower ground and raised ground floors. But we do still have the same shared gardens – minus this lake, that is. It’s all dried up in our time.’ She gave Jack a very broad grin, hoping it would help ease the shock.

  ‘You kiddin’ me or what?’ said Jack with a look of disbelief.

  ‘Stell’s telling the truth,’ said Tom eagerly. ‘And when we were looking for our neighbour’s dog we found a tunnel with a ladder that brought us here! And just before that I saw some moles!’

  Jack sat shaking his head.

  ‘Hey! I wonder if the moles make the tunnel appear?’ said Stella suddenly. ‘Actually that makes sense doesn’t it? Moles tunnel holes, don’t they? Your father must be right, Jack! They are special!’

  ‘Jeepers!’ said Jack, smiling and shaking his head, ‘ain’t nothin’ gonna surprise me no more after this! Nippers travellin’ back through a time tunnel ’n all! Can’t wait ter see pa’s face when I tell ’im this!’

  Tom was beaming from ear to ear. But Stella was suddenly looking serious. She shifted awkwardly where she sat. ‘There is one slight problem though,’ she said. ‘The tunnel’s disappeared – that’s why we came back down.’ She pushed her hair behind her ears and studied her feet. ‘I suppose we’ll just have to wait for the moles to appear again to make it come back, don’t you think?’

  In fact, Stella was terrified that the moles would never return, and that she and Tom would be stuck in the past forever, but she wasn’t going to let on.

  ‘Must be,’ said Jack quickly, ‘mus
t be.’ He seemed to sense her fear. ‘An’ seein’ them moles looked after me I’m sure they’ll look after you two. Anyways, I’ll wait with yer both ’til they come – I ain’t goin’ back over there in no hurry!’

  Stella, relieved, began smiling.

  Jack leaned towards her, peering at her iPhone. ‘So while we’s waitin’ what’s that thing hangin’ out yer pocket then?’

  'Here, try it!’ Stella switched on some music and passed it over. As she placed the earphones into Jack’s ears his smudged brown face expanded with delight.

  ‘Jeepers!’ he shouted. ‘You got people in ’ere or what? Aa d’ya do that then?’

  His eyes grew wider and wider in disbelief, as his mouth fell wide open. And as the sun finally set behind the trees, Stella and Tom fell about in fits of laughter.

  8

  A Moonlight Raid

  Over two hours had passed and the light was fading fast. Tom had fallen asleep under the tree and Jack and Stella had been lazing on the bank of the lake describing life in their own times. The last of Stella’s polos had gone.

  ‘The moles better come soon,’ said Stella, anxiously. ‘I’ll stay with yer ’til they do, like I said,’ said Jack.

  ‘But we’ll ’ave ter go over fer some supplies if they ain’t ’ere by nightfall. I wasn’t countin’ on usin’ up me bread and that littlun’s gonna need summet more before long.’

  Stella’s heart began to race. ‘To the house?’ she whispered.

  ‘Course!’ Jack reached inside his ankle boot and pulled out a large key.

  ‘Wow! Where did you get that?’ said Stella.

  ‘I ‘borrowed’ it from me pa, didn’t I?’ said Jack with a wide grin. ‘It’s the kitchen back door key. Gladstone forgot ter get it off ’im when ’e threw ’im out – an’ the kitchen leads to the cellar where the tools are!’ He chuckled under his breath. ‘Anyways, I’m sure there’s plenty in that kitchen fer all of us!’

  Stella beamed back at Jack. His confidence was reassuring, and all her worries about being stuck in past time had disappeared.

  ‘Can we go and see my room?’ Tom said eagerly, when he finally awoke. Jack laughed out loud.

  ‘No ways!’ he said and shook his head.

  Stella’s watch read exactly 1.30 when they rowed across the lake under the light of a full moon. Whatever time it was here, she concluded it was probably 1.30 in the afternoon at home: she certainly didn’t feel tired, and her stomach was only now starting to rumble. The boat drifted in, and as they entered the woods she switched on her orange torch which Jack spent five minutes studying from all angles and beaming around in the trees.

  ‘This is a fancy little flashlight!’ he said with a wide smile. ‘Sure ain’t seen one like this before!’

  ‘You can take it when we leave!’ promised Stella.

  Stella squeezed Tom’s hand tightly as they approached a large door which, in their own flat, was the double French door leading from the sitting room to the patio garden. Jack pulled the key from his boot and, seconds later, they slipped quietly in.

  As Stella switched on her torch again it illuminated not a living room at all, but a large kitchen. The narrow shaft of light beamed slowly around the room, revealing an enormous fireplace piled high with logs, and an array of jugs and kettles sitting in its hearth. Next to the fireplace stood a large black iron double stove, and on the opposite side of the room, two rectangular sinks, each with a single tap. In the centre of the room stood a long wooden pine table, and from the ceiling there hung so many pots and pans that it looked more like a cooks’ shop than a kitchen.

  Stella and Tom stood speechless.

  ‘This way!’ whispered Jack urgently. At the far end of the room he opened a solid wooden door that led them into an enormous walk-in pantry. ‘’Ere’s where they keep the food - ’elp yerselves, but be quick!’

  Tom’s hungry eyes feasted on a large fruit cake which had a couple of slices taken from it.

  ‘Go on, ’ave some!’ said Jack with a nod. Tom reached up and pulled a chunk of cake away and stuffed it into his mouth. Stella, meanwhile, found a lump of cheese under a dish, and some more bread in a wicker basket. She took a bite of the cheese then tied the rest inside Tom’s treasure rag while Jack stuffed apples and pears into his pockets.

  ‘This’ll do!’ Jack whispered sharply. ‘Let’s go!’

  But Tom, with his tummy satisfied, had other ideas. ‘I’m not going until I see my room!’ he murmured solemnly.

  Stella fixed her torch beam and a nasty glare on him. ‘Tom,’ she whispered crossly, ‘do you want us to get caught?’

  ‘I don’t care!’ he muttered through clenched teeth.

  Seeing his arms folded, an unblinking gaze and both feet planted squarely on the ground, Stella knew they were onto a lost cause. ‘Jack, can we show him?’ she pleaded in a whisper. ‘He won’t leave if we don’t.’

  Jack shook his head and smiled. ‘Your littlun’s got nerve. I likes that! Let’s go then, but be quiet!’

  Jack led the way through a door that Tom and Stella didn’t recognise from their own home, but soon they found themselves climbing a familiar staircase towards the front door. The walls of the main hallway were adorned with large heavily framed paintings whose subject matter Stella couldn’t make out. Jack was now heading for another set of stairs she didn’t recognise. Stella darted forward and tugged at his sleeve, then pointed at the door beside her.

  ‘This ain’t a bedroom!’ he whispered.

  Stella nodded vigorously then pointed at Tom. Jack gave a puzzled frown. The door was ajar and creaked so loudly when they pushed it open that they all froze. Nothing stirred, except the hollow tick of a clock somewhere in the hallway above.

  Quietly they stepped inside and Stella switched on her torch. As the beam lit up the room, Tom’s mouth fell open. His bedroom was in fact a dining room – and one fit for kings and queens at that! In the centre of the room, which spanned the width of both his and Stella’s bedrooms, was a vast mahogany dining table complete with three sets of silver candelabras, spaced evenly in a line down the middle. The table was surrounded by about twenty crimson velvet high backed chairs, and above it hung an enormous chandelier which shimmered silently in the moonlight filtering in through the shutters. A vast and elaborate gilt-framed mirror hung over what was, of course, his fireplace, which stood at one end of the table. Either side of the fireplace, and on all the other walls, huge portraits of the Gladstone family looked down on them.

  ‘Look over there!’ whispered Stella, giggling under her hand. Tom looked across to see a portrait of a young girl with a puppy on her lap. A small plaque at the bottom read ‘E. M. Gladstone’.

  ‘That’s Emma and Harry!’ whispered Tom.

  Tom and Stella had just completed a silent circuit of the room when a distant floorboard creaked. Stella snapped off her torch.

  ‘Quick!’ whispered Jack, turning for the door. But it was too late. The footsteps quickened across the hallway above towards the top of the stairs. Jack glanced around in desperation. His eyes rested on the fireplace. ‘Up ’ere!’ he whispered darting across the room. ‘Do as I say, and don’t breathe a word!’ Jack ducked his head under and up inside the chimney breast. Tom and Stella followed. ‘Feel up high. There’s a ledge. Now, cling on an’ pull yer feet onto them bricks stickin’ out. I’ll ’elp the littlun.’

  Stella reached for the ledge and pulled herself up inside the chimney breast, resting her feet on the bricks below which jutted out just out of sight of the room. Jack, meanwhile, hoisted Tom up and soon all three were clinging to the inside of the dark chimney flue while occasional clouds of soot dusted down on them.

  The footsteps drew nearer, and as they all looked down a dim light ebbed into the hearth below before slowly fading away, along with the sound of the steps.

  ‘Fiddle! ’E’s gone down!’ whispered Jack. ‘We’re gonna ’ave ter wait ’ere ’til ’e comes up. An’ if ’e’s goin’ fer summet ter eat we’re all d
one for!’

  Whoever it was downstairs was taking a long time going about their business. Stella, bored with waiting, flicked on the torch, almost making everyone fall into the fireplace.

  ‘One o’ pa’s chimneys. Nice brickwork, eh?’ whispered Jack proudly. Stella beamed the light up the narrow flue. ‘Shine the light over there will yer!’ Stella obliged. ‘There it is! ‘J’ fer Jacob. That’s me pa’s sign. Always in the same place.’

  Tom, ever thoughtful, had an idea. ‘Can I write my name?’ he whispered eagerly.

  ‘’Ere, you’s a clever nipper, you is! Use this!’ Jack pulled out the house key and passed it over. Tom dug hard into the brickwork, and had soon engraved a lopsided letter ‘T’.

  ‘Someone’s coming!’ whispered Stella, clicking off the torch. Tom slipped the key into his pocket and grasped back onto the ledge. They all glanced down, holding their breath, as the fireplace was once again flooded with orange light. Tom, who was suddenly starting to sweat, wasn’t sure he could hang on much longer. Soot dust covered his hair, his eyelashes, and his nose which now began to twitch with a sneeze. Already his grip was loosening, but he was determined not to be the one to let them down. Then, one final twitch and—

  ‘Lucy! Stella! Tom! Are you in here?’ A child’s urgent whisper cut across the darkness.

  Tom’s sneeze evaporated just at the moment his foot slipped and his grip on the ledge gave way. Crash! Down he landed in a heap in the fireplace where he found himself nose to toe with a small pink foot. Slowly he stuck his head out. The foot belonged to Emma.

  ‘Tom!’ she gasped, cupping her hand around her candle. ‘What are you doing up our chimney?’ Tom scrambled out, amidst clouds of black soot which quickly found a home on her long white night gown. Emma gave him a broad grin.

  ‘Stella’s here!’ he whispered excitedly. ‘And Jack!’

  ‘Jack?’