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Authors: Helen Peters
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swallows’ nests and the pigsties and the wildflower meadows and the oak trees, and her own lovely theatre, hidden in the copse. And she imagined a great creeping tide of water spreading over the farm, obliterating every inch of the landscape until the farm was buried beneath it. Forever.
“They can’t take the farm,” said Sam. “Where would we live?”
“And what about the animals?” said Jo. “What would happen to them?”
Hannah looked at her brother and sister.
“No,” she said. “They can’t take the farm. They won’t take the farm. Because nobody will let them.”
Chapter Eight
In the Playground
“Don’t be ridiculous, Joanne,” said Dad, as they drove to school on Monday morning. “Of course you can’t stay up all night.” He signalled right as they approached the main road. “Hannah, move your head. I can’t see out that side.”
“But it’s on a Friday,” said Jo, leaning forward from the back seat. “We won’t have to get up for school the next day.”
“I don’t care what day it is. You’re going to bed as usual.”
“Why do you want to stay up all night next Friday anyway?” asked Hannah.
“Because Sophie’s going to be here all night,” said Sam.
“Is she? How do you know?”
“We heard Daddy talking to her on the phone.”
“Oh, there’s Lottie,” said Hannah, spotting her friend on the pavement.
“She’s going to watch the bats flying out of the attic and record them,” said Jo. “And we want to help her.”
“I bet the last thing she wants is you two ‘helping’her. She probably wants a quiet, peaceful atmosphere, not the poor bats frightened to death.”
“We wouldn’t frighten them,” said Sam. “We are professional batologists.”
“ Batologists ? ” said Martha. “That’s not even a word, you weirdos.”
“I thought you were archaeologists,” said Hannah.
Jo gave Hannah one of her hard stares. “The Society of Bean has many branches.”
“Please can we stay up, Dad?” asked Sam.
“Well, we’ll see.”
The Beans squealed with joy.
“But it certainly won’t be all night, so don’t get that into your heads.” He pulled in at the school gates to let Martha and Hannah out. “Right, see you later, you two.”
Hannah waited for Lottie at the gates, and they made their way across the playground to their favourite bench: the one in the far corner, in the full beam of the morning sun and with a view of the whole playground.
“So you’ll never guess what,” said Lottie, giving the bench a quick scan and a sweep with her hand before sitting down. “It turns out my dad has known about the reservoir plans for ages.”
Hannah stared at her. “What?”
“I told him about it on the phone last night and he said he’d known for months.”
“But … how come?”
“He said your dad asked him to step up his bird surveys, so they’d have as much evidence aspossible against the farm being flooded. But your dad asked him not to tell me, because he didn’t want you knowing and getting worried. He didn’t want to burden you with it when it might all come to nothing.”
So Dad had known about this for months. No wonder he looked so tired, if he’d been secretly fighting the reservoir plans all this time.
“I wish I had known,” said Hannah. “At least it wouldn’t have been so much of a shock.”
“What’s a shock?” asked Jonah.
Hannah looked round. “Nothing.” She hadn’t realised he was right behind their bench. He had gelled his hair into little spikes all over his head. He and Ben were kicking a football against the wall with another Year 9 boy. Matthew Barnes, Hannah thought he was called. He had brown eyes that matched his brown hair, and he always had a football in his hands or at his feet.
“So we’re rehearsing at your farm now, as well as at school?” said Jonah.
“Well, six weeks isn’t very long,” said Hannah. “I thought it would be good to get some extra practice in. Especially with the
“They can’t take the farm,” said Sam. “Where would we live?”
“And what about the animals?” said Jo. “What would happen to them?”
Hannah looked at her brother and sister.
“No,” she said. “They can’t take the farm. They won’t take the farm. Because nobody will let them.”
Chapter Eight
In the Playground
“Don’t be ridiculous, Joanne,” said Dad, as they drove to school on Monday morning. “Of course you can’t stay up all night.” He signalled right as they approached the main road. “Hannah, move your head. I can’t see out that side.”
“But it’s on a Friday,” said Jo, leaning forward from the back seat. “We won’t have to get up for school the next day.”
“I don’t care what day it is. You’re going to bed as usual.”
“Why do you want to stay up all night next Friday anyway?” asked Hannah.
“Because Sophie’s going to be here all night,” said Sam.
“Is she? How do you know?”
“We heard Daddy talking to her on the phone.”
“Oh, there’s Lottie,” said Hannah, spotting her friend on the pavement.
“She’s going to watch the bats flying out of the attic and record them,” said Jo. “And we want to help her.”
“I bet the last thing she wants is you two ‘helping’her. She probably wants a quiet, peaceful atmosphere, not the poor bats frightened to death.”
“We wouldn’t frighten them,” said Sam. “We are professional batologists.”
“ Batologists ? ” said Martha. “That’s not even a word, you weirdos.”
“I thought you were archaeologists,” said Hannah.
Jo gave Hannah one of her hard stares. “The Society of Bean has many branches.”
“Please can we stay up, Dad?” asked Sam.
“Well, we’ll see.”
The Beans squealed with joy.
“But it certainly won’t be all night, so don’t get that into your heads.” He pulled in at the school gates to let Martha and Hannah out. “Right, see you later, you two.”
Hannah waited for Lottie at the gates, and they made their way across the playground to their favourite bench: the one in the far corner, in the full beam of the morning sun and with a view of the whole playground.
“So you’ll never guess what,” said Lottie, giving the bench a quick scan and a sweep with her hand before sitting down. “It turns out my dad has known about the reservoir plans for ages.”
Hannah stared at her. “What?”
“I told him about it on the phone last night and he said he’d known for months.”
“But … how come?”
“He said your dad asked him to step up his bird surveys, so they’d have as much evidence aspossible against the farm being flooded. But your dad asked him not to tell me, because he didn’t want you knowing and getting worried. He didn’t want to burden you with it when it might all come to nothing.”
So Dad had known about this for months. No wonder he looked so tired, if he’d been secretly fighting the reservoir plans all this time.
“I wish I had known,” said Hannah. “At least it wouldn’t have been so much of a shock.”
“What’s a shock?” asked Jonah.
Hannah looked round. “Nothing.” She hadn’t realised he was right behind their bench. He had gelled his hair into little spikes all over his head. He and Ben were kicking a football against the wall with another Year 9 boy. Matthew Barnes, Hannah thought he was called. He had brown eyes that matched his brown hair, and he always had a football in his hands or at his feet.
“So we’re rehearsing at your farm now, as well as at school?” said Jonah.
“Well, six weeks isn’t very long,” said Hannah. “I thought it would be good to get some extra practice in. Especially with the
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