The Farm Beneath the Water (15 page)

BOOK: The Farm Beneath the Water
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Chapter Twenty

Costumes and Coins

It was the last Saturday of the October half term. Hannah was brushing her teeth after breakfast when, from the bathroom window, she saw Lottie, Priya, Marie, Katy, Ben and Jonah walking up the farm track. Her stomach flipped at the sight of Lottie. If she found out who was visiting that afternoon…

But there was no time to worry about that now. Anyway, there was no reason Lottie would find out. Not yet, anyway. Not until Jack had actually produced something. And, knowing Jack, he probably wouldn’t even turn up.

She shoved her toothbrush in the mug and ran down the back stairs.

Nobody else had eaten breakfast. The Beans were busy with their archaeology museum and Martha was engaged in some top-secret project in the dining room. She had slammed both doors and threatened them all with death if they disturbed her. Whatever the project was, it had put Martha in an even worse mood than usual.

“Hi!” called Lottie, as she and the others appeared at the garden gate.

Hannah stepped outside and closed the scullery door behind her. You never knew when the Beans might be spying.

“I know you said to go straight to the theatre,” said Priya, “but as we were early, we thought we’d call for you.”

“Marie’s bottling out,” said Jonah.

“What?” said Hannah.

Marie glared at Jonah. “I’m not bottling out. I’m just not sure it will work. I mean, even with the Aqua bloke being in it, I still think Collins will stop us when he realises what we’re doing.”

“Oh, I had an idea about that,” said Hannah. “Lottie, could you ask your mum to sit next to him at the play? We all know Collins fancies her – he practically drools every time he sees her – and she can use her famous charm.”

Lottie looked as if she were about to throw up. “You’re asking me to
encourage
my mum to flirt with the teachers?”

“It will mean you’ll have to tell her what we’re going to do. Not in detail, but you’ll have to prepare her a bit. She won’t tell on us, will she?”

“Of course she won’t. She’s completely against the reservoir. But I’m not sure she’ll be able to—”

The kitchen window flew open and Jo’s head appeared. “Hannah, will you make me an omelette?”

“Make it yourself,” called Hannah.

“But yours are nicer than mine. Please?”

“Sorry, Jo,” said Hannah. “I’m busy.”

Jo sighed and her head disappeared back inside the kitchen. Through the open window, Hannah heard Dad’s and Martha’s raised voices.

“It’s more likely,” said Lottie, “that Nick Constable will walk out once he realises he’s been stitched up.”

“He needs a minder,” said Katy. “Someone to keep him on stage.”

Jonah’s eyes brightened. “A security guard?”

“No, idiot. Charm, not force. Someone to stand next to him and smile at him and make him feel like everything’s going to be all right.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Amy. Amy recoiled in horror.

“Me? No way! He gives me the creeps.”

“He gives everyone the creeps,” said Katy.

“Stupid, stupid thing!” shouted Martha from the dining room. “How am I supposed to do it by myself?”

“Well, I don’t know why you’re asking me,” said Dad. “I haven’t got a clue.”

“Fine! I’ll just throw it all in the bin!”

Dad’s footsteps sounded on the tiles.

“Let’s go,” said Hannah, glancing at her watch. “The others might be there already.”

“Hannah!” shouted Dad.

Hannah raised her eyes to heaven. “What now?”

Dad wrenched the scullery door open.

“Oh, there you are. Come here, will you?”

“But we’re having a rehearsal.”

“Just come here a minute. Martha’s having problems with some costume or other.”

Hannah sighed. “Coming. Just give me a second, OK?”

Dad glared at her and stomped back into the house.

Hannah handed a folded piece of paper to Priya. “Listen, can you start without me? Exactly the same as before except with this.”

Priya started to unfold the paper. “What is it?”

“Not here!” hissed Hannah, glancing at the open window. “It’s the new Prologue. There’s only one copy. I’m really scared of anyone finding it.”

“How can we all rehearse from one copy?”

“How about you read a couple of lines and everyone repeats them? We’ll have to learn it by heart. It’s too dangerous for everyone to have a copy.”

“Hannah!” yelled Dad.

“Coming!”

“Shall I stay?” Lottie asked Hannah. “Maybe I can help. If it’s a costume thing.”

“Oh, thank you. That would be great. See you in a minute, guys.”

They walked through the kitchen. Sam stood at the sink, sloshing his hands about in a bowl of bubbly water. Jo was grating cheese on to a board. Butter sizzled in a frying pan on the Aga.

At the dining-room table, Martha sat with her head in her hands, her shoulders heaving with furious sobs. Mum’s sewing machine stood in its case on the table. Pieces of blue fabric and sheets of paper were strewn all around it. Dad stood by the
door, looking bewildered.

“What’s going on?” asked Hannah.

Martha ignored her.

Lottie picked up a sheet of paper. “So you’re making a costume for
The Tempest
?”

Martha continued to sob. Hannah picked up another piece of paper. “Water spirits,” she read.

“Water what?” asked Dad.

“Spirits. Martha’s playing a water spirit in
The Tempest
.”

Dad shook his head in disbelief. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to it. Must see to those calves.”

Lottie held a piece of paper out to Hannah and pointed to the words at the top.

“Dear Parents,” it said, followed by a letter explaining that simple instructions for constructing a spirit costume were attached.

“They don’t look simple to me,” muttered Hannah.

Lottie held up a piece of fabric, frowning. “This one’s got staples in it. Have you been
stapling
your costume, Martha?”

Martha’s head jerked up. “How else am I supposed to make the stupid thing? I can’t even get the lid off the poxy sewing machine.”

She gave the plastic case a swipe.

“Don’t do that!” cried Hannah. “That’s Mum’s sewing machine.”

Lottie pressed the clips at either side of the case, raised them and lifted the lid off. “There you are.”

Martha shot her a look of loathing. “Oh, well done. Lottie Perfect can open the sewing machine.
How’s that supposed to help? I don’t know how to use the stupid thing, do I?”

“But I do,” said Lottie.

“Well, good for you.”

Lottie glared at her. Then she spread out the pattern sheets and examined the pieces of fabric. “No wonder you couldn’t do it. They haven’t given you big enough pieces for the skirt panels.”

Martha mumbled something.

“What?” asked Lottie.

Martha muttered something unintelligible again.

Lottie gave an exasperated sigh. “Martha, if you want me to help, you’re going to have to talk to me.”

Martha shot her head up. “I said I might have cut them in half, all right?”

“You cut the skirt pieces in
half
? Why on earth did you do that?”

“Because I was trying to make the stupid top, wasn’t I?” yelled Martha. “How was I supposed to know those pieces were for the skirt? So now I can’t make any of it and Zara won’t let me be in the show any more.” She burst into tears again.

“Isn’t Zara’s mum supposed to be a West End costume designer or something?” said Hannah. “Why isn’t she making the costumes?”

“She can’t do everything,” snapped Martha. “Zara gave us this bag with all the stuff in and said could we ask our mums to make it.”

“She said to ask your
mum
to make it?”

“That’s what I said, stupid. Are you deaf or something?”

Hannah felt a surge of anger towards Zara. Why were people so thoughtless? Why couldn’t they just check before they sent things home for people’s mums?

Lottie was folding the fabric pieces. She picked up the empty bag from the floor and put the fabric in it. Then she tucked the pattern sheets into the side of the bag.

Martha snatched the bag from her. “Don’t pack it away! If I don’t have the costume done by Monday, I can’t be in the show.”

“So do you want me to make it or not?” asked Lottie, holding out her hand for the bag.

Martha’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“I said, would you like me to make your costume for you?”

Silence. Martha stared at the table.

Lottie shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want me to…” She started to leave the room.

Martha stood up and pushed the chair back so hard that it skidded across the tiles. “Fine. Whatever. Since you’re so desperate to.”

Without making eye contact, she shoved the bag at Lottie and stomped out into the hall.

“You’re welcome,” called Lottie after her, as the door slammed. “Really, don’t mention it.”

Hannah turned to her friend. “That’s so nice of you.”

“It’s no problem,” said Lottie, as they walked back through the kitchen. “I can’t believe Zara did that.”

“I know.”

“Did what?” asked Jo.

“Nothing.”

“Look at this, Hannah,” said Sam. “We’ve found another Roman coin.”

“Great.”

“Wait a second, I’ll dry it.”

Jo cracked an egg on the side of a jug and pulled the two halves of the shell apart. The egg plopped on to the table.

“Whoops. Missed.”

The egg slithered off the edge of the table and on to the floor, where the yolk broke and oozed into the white.

“Get a cloth and clear it up,” said Hannah.

“I’ve got a better way than that.” Jo walked to the scullery door and called, “Rags!”

Rags bounded into the house, her tail wagging furiously.

“Here, Ragsy, here!”

Rags scampered across the kitchen and gobbled up the pool of broken egg.

“See,” beamed Jo. “She has so many uses.”

“Wow,” said Sam. “This is a really good one. Look, Hannah.”

He was scrutinising a small metal disc lying on a tea towel. To Hannah’s surprise, it did actually look like an old coin.

She picked it up. Lottie peered at it over her shoulder.

It looked like it had been cut by hand, by somebody who wasn’t that good at cutting. There was a circle
marked on the metal, but on one side of the circle the coin had been cut outside the lines. Inside the circle were what looked like symbols, but Hannah had no idea what they represented. One of them seemed to be a pear with fronds growing out of the top where the stalk should have been.

“Did you really dig this up, Sam?”

“You know we did. In South Meadow, where we found the other things.”

Hannah turned it over. She drew in her breath. Stamped on the coin’s face, as clear as if freshly minted, was a beautiful image of an elephant. And underneath the elephant, in capital letters, was stamped one word.

CAESAR.


Caesar?”
said Lottie.

Hannah stared at the Beans, her mind racing. “And you’ve found other stuff, too?”

“If you ever took any notice,” said Jo, “you’d know.”

“Where is it?” asked Lottie. “The stuff you’ve found?”

“In our museum.”

“Show us.”

Hannah and Lottie started up the back staircase.

“It’s 50p entrance, remember?” called Jo, running up the stairs behind them.

“I haven’t got 50p,” said Hannah, “and this is too important to mess about.”

“It’s not messing about. These are valuable treasures.”

“Careful in here,” said Sam, as Hannah opened the door to his room. “I’ll get it. There’s winter barley in this field.”

He tiptoed around the edge of the frayed carpet, took a green shoebox from the bottom of his wardrobe and brought it to Hannah. She lifted the lid.

Inside the box, on a bed of tissue paper, sat two coins and three tiny model animals. Hannah picked up the first coin. It was very worn but she could make out the figure of a man. He must be an emperor. There were letters around the edge, but she couldn’t read them.

She looked at the coin Lottie was examining. This one was much less worn. It showed the figure of another man. At the side, Hannah could clearly read: HADRIANVS.

“Hadrian?” she said. “As in Hadrian’s Wall?”

“Wow,” said Lottie. “I can’t believe you really found these.”

“The animals are the best,” said Sam.

Very gently, he picked from the box a little metal tortoise and placed it in Hannah’s palm.

“Where did you get this?” she asked.

“In South Meadow. Near where we found the coins. I found this cockerel there, too, and this ram. I think they’re olden-days toy farm animals, like Grandfather’s ones that Daddy has in his office. Only I think these are newer. Grandfather’s are made from lead and lots of the animals’ legs have got snapped off.”

“They’re very sweet,” said Hannah, replacing the tortoise, “but these coins are amazing. Imagine, they might be two thousand years old. And those archaeologists said they’d found nothing?”

“They were looking in the wrong place, you see,” said Jo. “We did tell them.”

Hannah and Lottie looked at each other.

“More evidence,” said Hannah. “This is brilliant.”

BOOK: The Farm Beneath the Water
5.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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