I realised as I spoke that I sounded like Caitlin, and it was exactly the sort of thing she would have said under the circumstances. I felt a surge of power that I had been able to assert myself and I felt I was probably above this traveller boy and although I didn’t own the land, I was allowed to be here and he wasn’t.
‘I ain’t trespassing. This is God’s country – no one owns the grass, the bracken and the trees but nature itself. You’re talking rubbish, ain’t ya? What’s your name, anyway?’
‘Sasha,’ I said quietly, feeling ridiculous now for using terms like trespassing and private property.
The boy pulled the sides of his mouth down and pouted his lips in appreciation for my name. Most people thought it was pretty cool.
‘I’m William. Or Bill to me mates. I’ve just moved into the camp with my ma and da.’
‘Oh, so there’s more of you now?’ I knew Caitlin, Maxwell or Ava would not be pleased to learn this news.
‘Well, three more. You can count, I s’pose. So you live ’ere or what?’ Bill pointed towards the clearing where the woods turned to the path that led to the wildflower meadow beyond.
‘My parents work at the manor house. We’ve lived here for a couple of years now.’
‘Right, so those toffs are all right with us lot hanging out over there?’
‘It’s not for them to say, is it? It’s Brian’s field,’ I said, feeling a warming towards Bill now.
He pulled his mouth down again.
‘You gonna eat them crisps or let the animals get ’em?’ Bill pointed to the Monster Munch that I had thrown on the floor in terror when he’d appeared just minutes ago. I walked over to the mass of crisps and picked them up, blowing any stray dust or twigs off them, then put them all back in the bag.
‘Sit down if you like.’ I gestured to one of the other logs. He sat down opposite me, and I offered him a few of the Monster Munch. He took a handful. I gulped down some of the juice and offered him the rest, which he took.
‘So what’s the deal then, you ’anging out with the posh lot? You don’t talk like them.’
I knew my voice had changed in the time we had lived here. I could feel it when I spoke; I made an effort to pronounce each word properly, but I supposed there was still a twang of my old accent.
‘No, we moved from Hackney. My dad’s the gardener, my mum’s the housekeeper. They are both working today – there’s a big party tomorrow night. It’s Caitlin’s fourteenth and the lady who owns the house, it’s her seventieth.’ Straight away I wondered why I had revealed so much information to a stranger.
‘Party, you say? Well, la-di-da!’ Bill said, and I regretted saying too much.
‘Well, I’d better get going,’ I said, standing up and starting to gather my things. ‘I know Hackett, one of the gardeners, will be along soon. He likes to patrol these parts since we met one of your friends with his pants down out here.’
‘Oh, right then. I’d better get going or I might get sent on me way by a leaf blower.’ Bill laughed loudly as he followed my lead in getting up.
‘Thanks for the deer moment,’ I added, not wanting to sound ungrateful for what he had shared with me. I would have missed the whole thing, sat there with my magazine.
‘No worries, anytime. Just come and shout for Bill over at the camp and we can go foraging. I know all the things you can and can’t eat.’
‘Oh, okay.’ I had enjoyed how much I’d learnt about things you could eat here on Saxby land and I was keen to learn more, but I knew I was lingering near a very dangerous line. Befriending the travellers would go against everyone’s opinions, including my own parents – they needed to keep their employers happy. So I vowed not to mention this to anyone, for if I did, I knew for sure we would not be allowed back into the woods until they had left, and who knew when that would be.
I was just coming through the front door of the cottage when Hunter appeared.
‘Excuse me, I’m starving,’ he said and shot past me into the kitchen. Dad followed behind, talking about how much his stomach was rumbling too. Mum came in after them, and before long we were all at the kitchen table after Mum rustled up some cheese rolls and yoghurts for lunch.
‘Judith’s made them salad niçoise – they’re having it with French bread and a cheese board. With chutney.’ Mum always let us know what the Clemontes ate.
‘What’s salad nis, nis…’ I tried to say it.
‘Tuna, potatoes and green beans.’ Mum put two rolls on her plate.
‘Ergh,’ Hunter said and fake vomited into his plate. I had to admit it sounded pretty awful.
‘Is everything ready for the party?’ I asked Mum, taking a cheese roll.
‘I have a few more things to do but it’s really down to those party planners. It’s a blessing, really. The fact that they come and do everything, then take it all away afterwards. Did you know they’re roasting a hog?’
‘It’s positively medieval,’ Dad said in his best posh voice and we all cracked up laughing.
The next few hours and into the night were a hustle of comings and goings as more trucks arrived to put up the toilets and balloons. By midnight, the driveway was deathly quiet, but I wasn’t asleep. I was downstairs in the lounge looking out onto the driveway, when I saw a flash of light go past the window. My stomach lurched, and I felt my heart speed up. I remained rooted to the spot. I needed to go upstairs and tell Dad. But Mum and Dad had gone to bed an hour ago and would both be asleep. The gates
