short
and rather round, with cropped grey hair, green wellington boots, and a pair of
glasses on a string around her neck. She told them the history of the fort and
how the land where it was built had once been marshland and peat bog and that
the Romans had built the ground up so it was solid enough to hold the stone
fort.
Mr. Watson had covered most
of this in class and Belladonna’s mind began to wander to the girl outside. She
looked out of the window and could just make her out through the rain, still
sitting in the same place.
Then it came to her.
The girl was soaked through.
But she was a ghost. The rain
shouldn’t touch her. Not here in the Land of the Living.
“…it was thought that the
body dated from this period. A theory that was confirmed by an examination of
the seeds and plants found with it.”
“What?” thought Belladonna. “Why
do people only say interesting things when I’m not listening?”
“Thank you, Dr. Hartley, that
was very informative,” said Mr. Watson, standing. “I’m sure everyone is very
grateful to you for taking the time to describe the museum’s work.”
He glanced sharply at the
class, who had been on enough trips by now to know that what was expected at
this point was applause.
“Good,” said Watson, clearly
pleased. “You’ve got an hour and a half to spend in the museum. Don’t forget to
identify something that interests you the most, draw a picture of it, make
notes and be prepared to talk about it in class next week.”
There was the usual murmured
assent as lunches were packed away and clumps of kids meandered off into the
maze of small rooms that made up the museum.
Belladonna caught up with
Lucy Fisher, who was dropping her egg salad sandwiches into the bin. Lucy’s mum
always made her egg salad sandwiches for school trips, but Lucy never ate them.
She wolfed down the regular school dinners, so Belladonna could only guess that
it was the egg salad she didn’t like. Once, she’d mentioned that Lucy should
perhaps tell her mum, an idea that Lucy had greeted with a look of total
incredulity, as if Belladonna had suggested sticking her hand down the waste
disposal, which only confirmed what Belladonna had always thought: other
people’s families were weird. Which was quite something when she considered
that her family consisted of two ghosts, a psychic grandma (who wasn’t really
psychic), and an aunt who was off somewhere chasing down the Wild Hunt.
“Lucy,” she said. “What was
that stuff about a body?”
“Weren’t you listening?”
asked Lucy.
“Of course I wasn’t
listening,” thought Belladonna. “Why else would I ask?”
She didn’t say it out loud,
though. Lucy was so timid she made Belladonna look like the class clown.
“No…I was sort of
daydreaming. Was it a Roman soldier?”
“It was a girl,” said Lucy,
her voice low as if it were some big secret, rather than something the entire
class had been told only minutes before. “Isn’t that creepy? They found her in
the peat bog and it turned out she was over two thousand years old!”
Belladonna and Lucy made
their way through the museum. Some things were boring, but others were
fascinating. There were the remains of sandals worn by soldiers and delicate
shoes worn by the camp commander’s wife. They’d even found some letters in
which she had invited the wife of another camp commander over for a birthday
celebration.
As they walked into the last
room, there was a buzz of excitement. Most of the kids seemed to be lingering
there, leaning over a glass case, mesmerized.
Belladonna eased her way
through the crowd, Lucy following in her wake. When they got to the case, Lucy
winced.
“Oh, that’s awful! That’s
awful!” She turned away and pushed back through the crowd.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
said Steve. He was standing on the other side of the case and was clearly
fascinated.
“I’m…I don’t…”
“It’s because the peat’s
anaerobic,” said
and rather round, with cropped grey hair, green wellington boots, and a pair of
glasses on a string around her neck. She told them the history of the fort and
how the land where it was built had once been marshland and peat bog and that
the Romans had built the ground up so it was solid enough to hold the stone
fort.
Mr. Watson had covered most
of this in class and Belladonna’s mind began to wander to the girl outside. She
looked out of the window and could just make her out through the rain, still
sitting in the same place.
Then it came to her.
The girl was soaked through.
But she was a ghost. The rain
shouldn’t touch her. Not here in the Land of the Living.
“…it was thought that the
body dated from this period. A theory that was confirmed by an examination of
the seeds and plants found with it.”
“What?” thought Belladonna. “Why
do people only say interesting things when I’m not listening?”
“Thank you, Dr. Hartley, that
was very informative,” said Mr. Watson, standing. “I’m sure everyone is very
grateful to you for taking the time to describe the museum’s work.”
He glanced sharply at the
class, who had been on enough trips by now to know that what was expected at
this point was applause.
“Good,” said Watson, clearly
pleased. “You’ve got an hour and a half to spend in the museum. Don’t forget to
identify something that interests you the most, draw a picture of it, make
notes and be prepared to talk about it in class next week.”
There was the usual murmured
assent as lunches were packed away and clumps of kids meandered off into the
maze of small rooms that made up the museum.
Belladonna caught up with
Lucy Fisher, who was dropping her egg salad sandwiches into the bin. Lucy’s mum
always made her egg salad sandwiches for school trips, but Lucy never ate them.
She wolfed down the regular school dinners, so Belladonna could only guess that
it was the egg salad she didn’t like. Once, she’d mentioned that Lucy should
perhaps tell her mum, an idea that Lucy had greeted with a look of total
incredulity, as if Belladonna had suggested sticking her hand down the waste
disposal, which only confirmed what Belladonna had always thought: other
people’s families were weird. Which was quite something when she considered
that her family consisted of two ghosts, a psychic grandma (who wasn’t really
psychic), and an aunt who was off somewhere chasing down the Wild Hunt.
“Lucy,” she said. “What was
that stuff about a body?”
“Weren’t you listening?”
asked Lucy.
“Of course I wasn’t
listening,” thought Belladonna. “Why else would I ask?”
She didn’t say it out loud,
though. Lucy was so timid she made Belladonna look like the class clown.
“No…I was sort of
daydreaming. Was it a Roman soldier?”
“It was a girl,” said Lucy,
her voice low as if it were some big secret, rather than something the entire
class had been told only minutes before. “Isn’t that creepy? They found her in
the peat bog and it turned out she was over two thousand years old!”
Belladonna and Lucy made
their way through the museum. Some things were boring, but others were
fascinating. There were the remains of sandals worn by soldiers and delicate
shoes worn by the camp commander’s wife. They’d even found some letters in
which she had invited the wife of another camp commander over for a birthday
celebration.
As they walked into the last
room, there was a buzz of excitement. Most of the kids seemed to be lingering
there, leaning over a glass case, mesmerized.
Belladonna eased her way
through the crowd, Lucy following in her wake. When they got to the case, Lucy
winced.
“Oh, that’s awful! That’s
awful!” She turned away and pushed back through the crowd.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
said Steve. He was standing on the other side of the case and was clearly
fascinated.
“I’m…I don’t…”
“It’s because the peat’s
anaerobic,” said
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