Blue Flowers Part 4

We sat in the lounge and ordered some coffee.

‘We’ve moved on a bit since the old Beechwood Estate haven’t we? I’d heard that they’d bulldozed it. A good job too. You look as though you’ve done well for yourself, married, kids?’

‘Married, no children though. How about you?’

‘A couple of kids but not married. It didn’t work out. I see them occasionally but you move on don’t you? The business keeps me away from home a lot; I certainly earn my money. I’ve got a nice apartment and can go on Caribbean holidays. Don’t go short of lady friends either.’ He winked.

This I could believe. The designer suit, the carefully styled hair and the tan would certainly attract the ladies but I’m not sure for how long.

‘Do you ever see any of the old gang? Who was that little feller, hung around with you all the time? John, Jack… no it was Jo! Whatever happened to him. A bit simple wasn’t he?’

The look in his eyes told me that all the details of that day were just as sharp to him as they were to me.

‘No, they moved on. His dad got another job and they packed up and went. It wasn’t long after you left.’

‘I remember now! My gran was ill and my father came back for me. I went travelling again. We had a right old time, but then he got ill and had to give up the travelling. He went into scrap metal, made a fortune. I took over when he died and went from strength to strength. Why I’m here today, making very useful contacts.’

‘Do you remember the greenhouse?’ I asked

‘What we doing today then?’  Keith asked the gang in general. We’d met up in the usual place, our den. An old shed at the bottom of Bob’s garden. It was a tight squeeze but we managed. It was usually me who came up with the ideas about our adventures so I got the battered armchair in which to sit.

The whole of the summer, up ‘til that day anyway, had been of long hot days. I know that childhood summers often seen that way but it really was so. We were all sunburnt from our days outdoors, even Joe who usually just went red had become a mass of freckles. Strange how being outdoors and in the sunshine seems to empower you, gives you the feeling that almost anything is possible.

We’d got our lunch, sandwiches, a packet of crisps, a bottle of pop and no money. We didn’t need money; there were never any shops where our adventures took place. Strange how today children can only go out if they have a pocket full of money, a mobile phone and an ipod. I suppose that if I had children they wouldn’t leave the house if I wasn’t sure that they had the means to contact me in an emergency.

We were a couple of weeks into the holidays and so had pretty much exhausted all of our local haunts and were ready for something different. I didn’t like to let the gang down and had spent some time thinking about what we should do.

Our last topic in school had been about ‘Explorers’ and I had become completely absorbed, had even gone to the library and borrowed books about them. Magellan, Henry the Navigator, Columbus and Francis Drake- he was my favourite. A pirate and an explorer, stealing gold from the Spanish to keep the queen happy. At that time, I was only ten, I saw him as a real hero.

‘We’ll go and explore, find some treasure.’

‘Where can we explore we’ve been everywhere?’ this was Keith who often put a dampener on things. He was a bit jealous wanted to be the leader of the gang.

‘I’ve thought of that, there’s that farm the other side of the resa if we go on our bikes it won’t take long.’ The reservoir was large and to us seemed enormous, it was forbidden territory and although we had often been tempted to sneak through the fence we knew that if found out the consequences would be dire. It was the one place that we were forbidden to go. Keith of course said he’d been there and had had a swim. The others believed him, I wasn’t too sure.

‘It’s a long way,’ Keith again trying to think of reasons for not following my lead, but the others were quite keen.

‘What sort of treasure are we looking for?’ Bob always wanted to know the exact details.

‘We might find buried treasure or jewels or even gold. Who knows! We won’t know ‘til we get there.’

I looked around the group and I could see the excitement on their faces, Keith was still looking a bit dubious, I could see he was trying to think of reasons why we shouldn’t go.

‘We’ll get into trouble if anyone finds out!’ He was clutching at straws; he was usually the last one to worry about parental displeasure.

We’d cycled as far as the Bluebell Wood before and come back with arms full of bluebells, the farm was only a bit further. Lots of stories surrounded Hill End Farm, it was haunted, a madman lived there and if you stepped on its land the devil would claim your soul. This was part of its appeal, at the age of ten fear and bravado seem to come in equal measures.

We set off in high spirits, racing each other along the lane at the edge of the reservoir. We had told our parents that we were going to the Bluebell Wood and that was quite acceptable, the road being little used by traffic. And there was the farm just past the wood. An old tired looking place with weeds and sparse crops fighting for space. There were ramshackle farm buildings in the distance and just beyond them the sunlight danced and glinted off something. From where we stood it looked like some sort of magical structure made from gold. For a moment we just stood and stared, I could feel my heart beating faster with excitement and a touch of fear.

‘What is it?’ Bob asked looking at me.

‘We’re explorers aren’t we, that’s what we’re going to find out.’

‘What about ghosts and the mad farmer who owns this?’ Mike had put our fears into words. But I was the leader I couldn’t back out now and I just had to know what it was that gleamed like gold.

‘Francis Drake wouldn’t have been worried about ghosts. He was really brave and wasn’t scared of ghosts or mad people. Who’s coming to explore?’

I started to walk towards the golden glow just hoping that they’d follow. I looked round and there they were.

‘We’d better keep low we don’t know if there are guards protecting the treasure.’

We crept along the hedge skirting the field and eventually came opposite to where we thought the golden building was. There was nothing remotely gold or gleaming. All there was was an old battered greenhouse with rotten wood and dirty panes of glass. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so disappointed.

Keith began to laugh, ‘It was the sun shining off the glass that made it look like gold.’ That was it his laughter was infectious and before long we were all rolling about on the grass holding our stomachs, partly relief that we hadn’t encountered anything threatening.