Since You've Been Gone. Anouska Knight

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СКАЧАТЬ exactly the pick-me-up I’d needed. I hadn’t spent an afternoon in the forest for so long, it had been a stretch of many more months since I’d last bumped into any of Charlie’s crew. Dave ran ahead to the base of the tree from where Big Frank Stanley’s familiar tone was emanating, and wagged himself silly until Big Frank shuffled down.

      ‘Agh, get away mad dog!’ Frank jovially cried as I staggered through the mulch towards them. Frank was the biggest man I’d ever met, but still Dave looked like a monster as he charged playfully towards him.

      ‘Dave! Leave him alone … he’s only little.’ I grinned as Frank pushed Dave aside to come greet me.

      Frank grabbed hold of me in a bear hug. ‘Hello, darlin’,’ he rumbled, his beard bristling uncomfortably against my face. He smelled like Charlie after a long day. Of chainsaw fuel, and pine needles.

      ‘Hey, Frank. How have you been?’ I asked, fighting the urge to smooth the itch he’d left on my cheek. He had the look of a Viking about him, but if I thought Charlie’s broad shoulders were well suited to working the forest, Frank made Charlie look as though he shouldn’t be far from his mother. I hadn’t missed being eaten out of house and home by him on footy nights, but seeing him now I realised that I had indeed missed him.

      ‘Same old same old.’ He smiled through a covering of reddish whiskers thick enough to hide his lips. ‘Where have you been hiding?’

      ‘Nowhere—’ I shrugged ‘—just been busy with work and things.’

      ‘I know that feeling. I’m just trying to get a few extra quid in over a weekend.’

      ‘I hadn’t expected to see anyone up here on a Saturday,’ I said as we strolled through the trees.

      ‘It’s all go up here at the moment.’ A seriousness settled in his features. ‘There’s a few of the lads out today. Deckard and Jimmy are here somewhere, marking off the boundaries for the suits. You know about the slade, over on the west side?’

      ‘I heard they were talking about it. But then it all went quiet. We don’t hear much over our way without anyone to keep us in the loop.’ I shrugged.

      ‘Three years fighting and now they’re still selling them out from under us.’

      The campaigners had put up a good fight, but we knew there would be a domino effect once the sell-offs had started. Before long, none of these forests would be open to the public any more, worse still they would be developed.

      ‘I’m sorry, Frank.’ I really was. Sick with sorry, in fact. For all of Charlie’s efforts here to come to nothing, it was beyond crushing. Here was the closest thing Charlie had to a legacy.

      He’d invested so much time trying to think of new and tangible ways of keeping the forests an integral part of the local community. Then, one night, over beer and nostalgia, Charlie had his eureka moment. He’d been telling Martha and Rob about his awful school days where he’d been expelled from one high school, and forgotten by his next. He’d been aggressive, and disruptive—everything you didn’t want from a teenage boy. Everything Charlie wasn’t.

      But it had all been a diversion. A mechanism for survival. Because no one had ever diagnosed Charlie’s dyslexia.

      Martha cried when Charlie told her the things he’d do to avoid being called upon for answers in class. He made light of it, but I knew how it had affected him, how he worried that our children would suffer the same way. School for him had been a demoralising experience, and a lonely one too, but even we were stunned when Rob told us the proportion of offenders he’d represented with learning difficulties such as Charlie’s. Individuals who had all started off with expulsions for behaviour just like his, children crippled by shame. It had taken Charlie a long time to finally accept that he wasn’t simply stupid.

      Rob had raised the topic of forest schools that night. We’d never heard of them, not even through Charlie’s work. The more Rob had explained what it was he understood forest schools to be the more Charlie had hung on his every word. He’d thought that a forest school was the answer, to the sustainability of the forest and to the local children who could benefit from all that they offered.

      ‘They’re not talking about it now,’ said Big Frank, grabbing for a stick Dave was thrusting at his hand. ‘The slade’s gone. Sold. It’s all fenced off now by the new owners. They’ll be moving into the woodland next.’

      I looked around me into the eeriness of the forest. It was so beautiful here, I couldn’t bear it if we lost the woods too. Frank kicked at a few fallen pinecones as we walked, sending them spinning from the rich damp earth.

      ‘I’d better let you get on, Frank,’ I said, reaching up to give him a hug goodbye. ‘Say hi to Annie for me?’

      ‘I will. Watch for that mad dog of yours.’

      Another bristled cheek and Big Frank turned back towards where Dave had first found him.

      Dave went back on his leash as we neared the more populated walks. The path led us through the woods, past the forest park where families were picnicking and chasing each other around on bikes, before taking us out onto the slade at the foot of the forest. All along the perimeter, iron stakes held aloft red and white tape, flickering uselessly in the breeze. Although it had quite obviously been demarked as somewhere we couldn’t go any more, it was hard to accept that so much space was suddenly off limits.

      The pocket of my jacket flashed to life with the phone ringing inside it. It was Jesse’s face on the screen.

      ‘Hey. What’s up?’

      ‘All right, Hol, sorry to spoil your day off,’

      ‘No, you’re fine. Is everything OK?’ I asked.

      ‘Yeah yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just, I’ve got a lady on the shop phone asking if we can make two hundred cupcakes for Monday.’

      ‘Monday? This Monday coming?’ I asked. It was unusual for anyone to have a function on a Monday, and be this late for ordering.

      ‘Yeah, I didn’t want to say yes without checking it with you first.’

      ‘Thanks, Jess. Did she say what they’re for?’ Dave was trying to pull me into the slade. He’d never been bothered before, now he wasn’t allowed he wanted in. I heard Jess running my query through the other phone.

      ‘No, no function.’

      ‘Delivery or collection?’ I asked.

      ‘Collection.’ I couldn’t help but be suspicious. You tended to get a feel for quantities and days, that kind of thing. This sounded like a wind up.

      ‘OK,’ I said, ‘but they need to pay it all up front, today. Otherwise we can’t start it when we get in on Monday. And no cheques, Jess.’

      ‘You got it. Catch you later,’ he said

      ‘Bye.’

      Jess clicked the phone off. It was unlikely I’d be making those cupcakes on Monday, I could near enough feel it.

      Dave and I were back in the old Land Rover Mrs Hedley let me use to cart him around in, and well on our way home when my mobile started ringing СКАЧАТЬ