Buried Alive! (11 page)

‘I like her,' I said.

‘I don't,' said Biscuits.

We didn't say much else while we ate our picnic lunch. It was banana sandwiches. I particularly like banana sandwiches but I gave
half of mine to Biscuits. And my sausage roll. And most of my crisps too.

‘You're trying to bribe me to be friends,' said Biscuits.

‘Yes,' I said.

‘Well. It's working,' said Biscuits.

‘Oh Biscuits! Are we really friends again? Oh
great
!'

‘I didn't really break friends.
You
were the one who laughed at me and went off with Kelly.'

‘I didn't really mean to,' I said.

‘I don't know what you
see
in her,' said Biscuits.

‘I don't either,' I said. ‘But I do like her. I like you too! I wish you and Kelly would be friends.'

‘You've got to be joking!' said Biscuits. ‘What were you two
doing
all that time over the rocks?'

‘Oh. Just exploring. There's this little cove.'

‘Is it good there? Any pirate caves?'

‘I don't really know. We didn't find any.'

‘
We
could find some,' said Biscuits, getting up.

‘What, now?'

‘Yep. Come on.
We'll
go and explore.' Biscuits was tying up the laces on his
trainers. ‘In the right foot gear this time.' He grabbed his spade. ‘Here's my trusty bashing stick in case we encounter any wild animals – or boys.'

‘I think you might find it an awful bore getting over all the rocks,' I said.

I didn't know what to do. I so badly wanted Biscuits to stay friends with me. But I wasn't sure I should let him come to Tim-and-Kelly beach. Of course it wasn't
really
our private place. I wouldn't really mind sharing it with Biscuits – but I knew
Kelly
would!

Mum didn't like the idea much either.

‘I don't want you clambering over those rocks out of sight. I want you to play here on this beach where we can keep an eye on you.'

‘Look, we're not
babies
,' said Biscuits. ‘And Tim and Kelly went over the rocks this morning.'

‘That was nothing to do with me,' said Mum, glaring at Dad.

‘It's not fair if I can't go and explore too,' said Biscuits.

‘Hey,
I'll
go with the boys,' said Dad.

So Dad and Biscuits and I set off over the rocks. I just hoped like anything Kelly wouldn't find out. I felt pretty anxious when we got to the top of the rocks because I suddenly remembered the messages we'd left
in the sand. There might be some serious teasing.

But the tide had come in. Like a kindly mum with a flannel, the sea had washed the sand clean of all marks.

‘Wow! It's a super beach,' said Biscuits.

‘We can build a castle now the sand's still wet,' I said.

‘You and your castles,' said Biscuits. ‘You're like one of them Egyptians wanting a pyramid built, only you haven't got millions of slaves, you've just got me. OK then. Let's get cracking.'

There was just one problem. We only had one spade with us.

‘Feel free to use mine, Tim,' said Biscuits, after he'd had three feeble little digs and started a sandcastle the size of a pygmy molehill. Share and share alike.' He handed the spade over with a happy sigh and sat on a rock.

I had a go. Along go. But the sand still wasn't
obedient
enough. I had this splendid vision of a castle in my head but it kept blurring and collapsing in the actual sand.

‘Let's dig down and make a big hole instead,' I said giving up.

I started digging. And digging and digging and digging.

Then Dad took a turn. He got very red in the face. He breathed very heavily. Then he straightened up, rubbing his back.

‘I'll have to stop, it's doing my back in. I'm going back to Mum. I'll tell her it's perfectly safe for you two boys to play here. You won't go in the sea, will you?'

‘No, we're going to dig and see how far down we can go,' I said.

‘And you won't try and climb up the cliff?' said Dad.

‘
Me?
And Biscuits?' I said. ‘Leave it out, Dad.'

‘Right. OK then. Have fun digging,' said Dad.

He started climbing back over the rocks, still puffing and blowing.

‘It's your turn with the spade, Biscuits,' I said.

Biscuits puffed a lot too. And blew. He leant on the spade.

‘Isn't it big enough now?'

‘No! We're not even properly down to the dark sand yet.'

‘And what's going to happen when we dig through that? We'll come out in Australia and everyone will talk like
Neighbours
and we'll have koala bears and kangaroos jumping all round us.'

‘Of
course
we couldn't ever get to Australia! Don't you know anything? Honestly, Biscuits, you're so silly sometimes. We'd have to get right through the Earth's crust and you can't do that, and then you'd go into the core and that's boiling-boiling-boiling hot and—'

‘And I feel boiling-boiling-boiling hot right this minute,' said Biscuits. He looked at the hole. He looked at me. ‘I know. Get in it, Tim. And sit down.'

‘Like this?' I did what he said, puzzled. ‘Biscuits? What are you doing? Oh, don't start filling it in!'

‘I'm making you a boat, right?'

‘Wrong!' I said. I'd wanted to dig the biggest hole ever and see all the different layers of sand and work out how far down they went. I didn't want to mess about playing baby-boats. But I
did
want Biscuits to stay friends. So I sighed and gave up on the idea of Huge Hole.

‘OK, OK, I'm in a boat,' I said, and I even helped Biscuits heap the sand back into the hole around me. And on top of me.

‘Not on my legs!'

‘Yes. Go on. It's more fun like that.' He piled sand up on my lap.

‘It's going to look like the boat's sinking,' I said. ‘Watch the edge of that spade, Biscuits!'

‘Sorry, sorry!' He put the spade down and started patting the damp sand into place.

It felt very heavy, almost uncomfortably so. I tried to shift my legs but they were already firmly stuck under the sand. I tried a violent kick and just about managed to crack the sand above my toes.

‘Don't!' said Biscuits, and he got wetter sand and patted it hard.

It set like concrete.

‘It's
heavy
,' I said.

‘Well keep still,' said Biscuits, piling more sand on.

I tried to push it away but Biscuits took the spade and shovelled hard. My arms got covered. I was stuck.

‘This isn't a boat. Not unless it's a submarine,' I said.

‘Up periscope,' said Biscuits, heaping more sand right under my chin.

‘Biscuits! Let me out now. I don't want to play Boats any more.'

‘This isn't Playing Boats. This is the Burying Tim game,' said Biscuits, patting and smoothing the sand harder and harder.

‘Oh ha ha,' I said.

Though it didn't feel very funny. I didn't like being stuck there in the sand like that, with just my head sticking out.

Biscuits was panting with effort by now. He stopped and straightened up, wiping his wet brow. He looked at me, his head on one side.

‘There! You're done now,' he said.

‘Thank goodness. OK. Let me out then. Biscuits? Biscuits!'

Biscuits had started to walk away!

‘Biscuits, come back!'

‘What's that?' said Biscuits, turning and cupping his ear as if he couldn't quite hear me.

‘Biscuits, please! Don't mess about.'

‘What's the matter?'

‘Don't be
silly
!'

‘Ah. That's me. Silly,' said Biscuits. ‘Only I'm not the one stuck up to my neck in sand.
You
are. Even though you're so clever.'

‘Oh, Biscuits. Don't be like that. Look, get me
out
. It's stopped being a joke. It's not funny at all.'

‘I think it's
ever
so funny. Bye, Tim!' said Biscuits, and he started a lumbering run towards the rocks.

‘Biscuits! Look, you're not frightening me. It's just your stupid joke. It's very very
boring
. So let's get it over with, right?'

Biscuits didn't seem to be listening. He started clambering over the rocks.

‘I don't care a bit,' I said. ‘I know you just want me to shout after you.'

He didn't turn round.

He climbed to the top and then started going down the other side. Then he dropped down. And disappeared.

‘
Biscuits!
' I shouted.

A gull screamed back at me overhead.

Biscuits had gone. I was all on my own. Stuck up to my neck on a deserted beach. My heart went bang bang bang inside my chest. The gull cried again, swooping low, so that I could see its cruel yellow beak.

I shut my eyes quick.

‘Go away!' I said.

It was meant to be a shout but it came out as a feeble whisper.

I waited. My eyes were getting watery behind their lids. When I dared open them tears spilled down my cheeks. I blinked hard. I didn't want Biscuits to catch me crying when he came back.

If
he came back.

Of course he'd come back. Or Mum and Dad would come looking for me. Eventually.

There was nothing to cry about. The gull had flown away. It hadn't mistaken me for a juicy fish. I was fine. I couldn't come to any harm even though I was trapped.

I tried to calm myself by staring out to sea. Then I watched the waves. Was the tide coming in or out? I couldn't remember! What if the tide was coming in – rapidly? Suppose it started lapping right around my sand prison, the waves splashing over my head?

I tried kicking madly and thrusting my arms up but the sand was set too hard. It wouldn't budge. I couldn't even make the tiniest crack in it now.

‘Oh Biscuits, come back!' I cried. ‘Please! It's not a joke any more! I'm frightened.'

Then I heard noises up above me, from right up on the clifftop. I tried to peer round to see who was there but my neck was so packed with sand that I couldn't even swivel my head properly. I heard bumps and thumps. It sounded as if someone was climbing down the cliffs.

‘Is that you, Biscuits?' I shouted.

Was this all part of his joke? I couldn't believe he could have scooted up the path to the clifftop so quickly. And surely old Biscuits wouldn't risk his neck climbing down the sheer cliff face? (Though he had been pretty good at abseiling.)

‘
Biscuits?
' I yelled, as the sliding and slithering progressed downwards behind me.

Then I saw a head bob up from behind the
rocks. It was munching on a chocolate bar.

‘Ha ha! I
really
got you worried, didn't I?' he yelled. ‘I didn't really leave you, I just hid behind the rocks.'

‘Biscuits?' I said. ‘Then who . . .?'

I tried to crane round again.

I saw Biscuits stop and look behind me. His hand stopped in mid air, holding the chocolate. His mouth stayed open and empty.

I knew it was seriously bad news for Biscuits to forget to eat. My heart was banging to bursting point now. I had a sudden terrible premonition.

Someone started to give triumphant Tarzan whoops as he got nearer and nearer. I could feel my trapped skin erupting in goosebumps.

Then I heard a thump thump as two very big boots jumped onto the sand.

I saw Biscuits mouth one terrible word.

Prickle-Head.

‘Aha! Who have we got here?' he yelled triumphantly. ‘Fun time!'

Biscuits was still standing statue-still. Then he moved. I wouldn't have blamed him for one minute if he'd clambered back over the rocks to the other beach. I think I might have done. And he could always say he was rushing off to get my dad.

But Biscuits didn't run away and really abandon me. He started running towards me, spade at the ready, all set to dig me out and rescue me.

But he didn't have time. Prickle-Head got to me first.

‘What's this weird little squashy thing in the sand?' he said. ‘Is it a little jellyfish?' He put his great boot right on top of my head, pressing down hard enough to hurt.

‘Get off!' I said.

‘Oooh! The jellyfish can talk! Yuck, it really
is
a jellyfish, there's slime and snot all over its face.'

I sniffed desperately.

‘Oh my, it's not a jellyfish at all, it's the little Mummy's boy. What's happened to its weedy wimpy little body then? Someone's chopped its head off. Well, it's no use to anyone. Might as well use it as a football, eh?' He took his boot off my head and took aim.

‘Don't you dare kick him!' Biscuits yelled, and he started whirling the spade in a threatening manner.

But Prickle-Head was bigger and quicker. He dodged, pushed and grabbed.

Biscuits ended up on his bottom.

Prickle-Head ended up with the spade.

‘Aha! It's
my
turn to play sandcastles now,'
said Prickle-Head. ‘Here's a nice castle. Ready-made, couldn't be better. Hey, look at my castle, Rick.'

There was another thump on the sand behind me. Prickle-Head had reinforcements.

Pinch-Face came running into my view. He laughed and aimed a kick at my head. He missed – but only just. I tried to dodge and jarred all down my back.

‘Yeah, I don't like that wet blobby bit on top of the castle. Spoils it, doesn't it? So shall I pat it smooth, eh?' Prickle-Head held the spade high and then brought it down hard and fast.

I screamed.

Biscuits leapt up and tried to rugby tackle Prickle-Head. The spade swung and landed with a loud bang on the tightly-packed sand.

‘Get
off
, Fatboy,' said Prickle-Head, and he punched Biscuits in the stomach.