Page 115 of The Playground


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‘It should be you riding him later too. You should be the Spring Queen.’

Rosie turned to Tilly. ‘How are you with mucking out?’

Tilly pulled a face. ‘You mean...poo?’

Rosie got a bucket from the yard and a shovel. She handed the shovel to Tilly. ‘We need a couple of scoops.’

Tilly stared at Rosie then something twigged. ‘Is this part of the surprise?’

Rosie smiled.

The two girls walked back up the lane, Rosie carrying the bucket. As they neared the high street, she stopped.

‘We need something to cover it,’ she said, indicating the bucket’s contents. It wouldn’t do for them to be seen carrying horse manure around. She didn’t want anyone to see them carrying a bucket either, but the high street was quite empty, so she was planning on hurrying down towards the road that led to Heron Water as fast as possible in the hope they weren’t spotted.

Tilly pulled at some bushes and offered up a handful of leaves. ‘Will these do?’

Rosie nodded, pleased. They filled the bucket with the green cover, then checking there was no one close by, headed into the high street, staying as invisible as possible. There was only one other person on the other side of the road, who paid them no attention at all. Then they were in the road that went to the reservoir. Rosie kept a look out but not many people were around. A dog walker in the far distance but that was all.

‘We need some water,’ she said, and Tilly nodded. They went down to the shoreline and removed the leaves from the bucket. Then, careful not to tip out the rest of the contents, they tilted the edge of the bucket against the water so some washed in. A stick provided something to mix it all together.

It was heavier now. Rosie had to be careful as they walked back up towards the ancient yew tree. Behind it were some bushes and the two girls crept inside.

‘Check no one’s coming,’ said Rosie, and Tilly peeredthrough the leaves while Rosie set to work. She threaded the string through the same holes where the handle was attached and tied a strong knot, leaving one end of the string very long. Then she got the second carrot she’d put in her pocket earlier and tied it to the long end of the string.

‘What about Lupin?’ asked Tilly. ‘Won’t he get...?’

‘I’ve made the string really long,’ said Rosie. ‘He’ll be far enough away.’

Tilly peered outside again. ‘No one’s here.’

The two girls carefully made their way out from under the bushes. It had been decided that Rosie would climb the tree and Tilly would hand the bucket up to her.

Rosie wasted no time in grabbing the lower branches and, like a monkey, she was up in the tree in seconds. Now was the most difficult part. One hand clinging to the tree, she reached down with the other as Tilly held up the bucket, her arms stretched as high as she could. Rosie made a grab for it and managed to catch the handle. She tightened her grip, then lifted the bucket up onto the branch beside her.

‘It stinks,’ said Tilly.

‘Only cos you’re close up,’ said Rosie. ‘You won’t be able to smell it when it’s in the tree.’

Rosie edged up another layer in the tree’s branch system, hidden now amongst the evergreen leaves. She carefully manoeuvred the bucket along a branch that had broken off in a storm a few years ago and, lying flat on the branch, her legs wrapped around it for dear life, she hooked the bucket over the stump of the broken limb. It swung for afew seconds and she saw Tilly jump out of the way down below. Then the bucket settled.

Rosie edged backwards towards the main trunk, then climbed down.

She dusted off her hands and looked up. You couldn’t see the bucket from the ground – the leaves covered it. And it would be dark when everyone was here, so youdefinitelywouldn’t be able to see it, nor would you see the carrot that hung down from the string just below the leaves.

Rosie looked back again at the ground underneath. This was where the Spring Queen’s throne would be, where she would be crowned.

The bucket was positioned perfectly.

NINETY-EIGHT

Saturday 20 March

‘Give us a twirl,’ said Nancy, and Lara slowly turned around. Her green dress floated around her legs, the dozens of sewn-on fabric leaves lifting as she spun.

Carol clasped her hands together in delight. ‘It looks wonderful on you.’ She had also made a crown of yellow daffodils and attached more daffodils and white narcissi to Lara’s shoulders. They tumbled down the front of the dress to her waist.

‘I’m in awe,’ said Nancy. ‘How did you make such a thing?’ Lara looked like some sort of wood nymph and she glowed with excitement.