The Three Thorns (5 page)

Shaking in fear, Jimmy tried to climb the gate. After several failed attempts, he managed to jump high enough and grab a firm hold of the rusty bars. The rest followed his lead.

Benjamin’s skill at climbing showed when he passed the others, reaching the top of the gates first. Missing a footing, Tommy slid back down following after George. Both boys stood staring up at Jimmy and Benjamin.

Benjamin’s arms burned in agony when he swung them over the top of the gate. A shimmer of silver light crossed his face the moment he tried to climb down the other side. Dangling right there on top of one of the gate’s spikes was the silver key. It had fallen out from somewhere inside his maroon silk blanket. With a free arm, Benjamin carefully stretched to grab hold of the key before he threw it down to Tommy.

Tommy caught the key in one swift grasp and unlocked the large gate. Mr. Jennings and the mob were a few feet away when Tommy swung the gate open and ran out, followed closely by George, who tripped over himself. Jimmy still held on to the bars but Tommy couldn’t wait for him to let go. He slammed the gate tightly shut and reached round the keyhole to lock the gate from the inside when Mr. Jennings grabbed his arm. With a stroke of luck, Tommy swiftly locked it and broke the key trying to pull away from the principal’s grasp.

“Give me back my master key, you thief,” Mr. Jennings growled, giving him an evil glare.

“Let go!” Tommy demanded.

Peter peered up at Jimmy who was losing his grip fast. “Sorry, old chap,” Peter muttered.

Jimmy watched in horror as Peter charged toward the gate to kick it. The heavy vibration of Peter’s kick caused Jimmy to lose his grip and fall on top of the group below him. Benjamin managed to balance and hold onto the gate at the top.

The mob of boys stumbled and banged into one another, which crushed Mr. Jennings. The old man remained standing but was shoved so hard by the group of youngsters that he lost his own grasp on Tommy.

“Can we leave now?” yelled George.

“We have to help Benjamin,” Peter replied.

From the high view, Benjamin could see Jimmy being escorted away by Mr. Porter along with a group of four prefects.

“No. I don’t want to go,” Jimmy called out, crying loudly across the playground.

Mr. Jennings ordered the remaining mob to shake Benjamin from the gate’s top.

“I’ll catch you, Benjamin!” shouted Tommy.

Even though his arms were exhausted, Benjamin somehow found the strength to drop down the other side of the gate, but not without giving Mr. Jennings a cheeky wave goodbye. As promised, Tommy caught him, falling back onto the gravel.

Holding onto his bruised back, Tommy shoved Benjamin off him. The successful landing was over and the four boys looked back at the crowd to laugh at them, especially at Mr. Jennings.

“This isn’t over! You will not get far, you little hoodlums!” the man screamed back with contempt.

Peter turned to the three boys with a huge smile across his face. “The easy part is over,” he said calmly.

Benjamin giggled to himself. “You thought that was easy?”

“We must keep moving, they’ll soon be after us,” Peter said seriously as he led the way forward, down the hill that Gatesville was built upon. Tommy paused to turn back and slowly lifted the other half of the broken key out of his pocket to tease the furious principal.

“Mr. Jennings…catch!”

The farmlands between Gatesville and the great city of London lay just a few miles down a path of wet mud and dead grass. The late afternoon’s weather had changed for the worse. Rain poured heavily down on the four boys as they began their lengthy journey toward the great city. Benjamin had passed through London with Miss Illingworth on his way to Gatesville a little over two months prior, but he had never stepped foot there since he was an infant. From the moors, the city looked fascinating and tempting. But the closer they got, the darker the gray clouds became.

Several hours had passed since they had made their great escape. They ran fast at first and had great bursts of energy that put distance and time between them and the authorities. But their journey through the sludge and mud made them weary. The miserable, bleak weather matched their mood. Everyone was feeling tired and miserable by the time they’d trekked half way across the moors, except for Peter.

George took his hat off and handed it to Benjamin.

“For me?” asked Benjamin with a sparkling look of gratitude lighting up his face.

George frowned at the sight of the poor lad, for Benjamin looked like a drenched dog.

“I have another one,” George replied.

Benjamin took the large hat and covered his ears and forehead with it. It felt nice and warm.

Mud and sludge coated their legs as they continued crossing the soaking moors. Tommy struggled to carry Jimmy’s personal belongings. Finally, he dumped the extra baggage onto the muddy grass.

George swiped the bag from the mud and handed it to Benjamin. “Here, if you can carry it, it’s yours,” he whispered.

Another hour went by until the boys stopped for a rest under an old tree. The tree was rotted away at the roots and provided little cover from the rain. Their pit stop proved to be very uncomfortable.

“Here, you better take this, just in case we lose anyone,” Peter whispered to the group, lifting three exact maps of England out of his bag and handing one to each boy.

“This is where we’re going,” Peter explained, pointing at a name beside the destination. His optimism was encouraging.

“Who’s Jacob?” Benjamin asked, curious and suspicious of Peter’s somewhat classified plan.

“He is the one who can give us all a job on the farm,” Peter replied.

Tommy rudely knocked Jimmy’s bag out of Benjamin’s hands. “Who said you could have that?” he barked. A large envelope and a case of cigars spilled out onto the muddy grass.

“What are these?”

Both Benjamin and George shrugged their shoulders at him before Tommy grabbed the envelope and started to open it. Benjamin, George and Tommy stared in disbelief when money fell out. “Money! I’m rich,” laughed Tommy. George tittered along with him until Peter grabbed all the notes off of the ground and snatched the envelope out of Tommy’s hand.

“Hey, give it back!” yelled Tommy.

“Benjamin will hold on to the money from now on,” Peter said, handing Benjamin the bills. “This money has to last the four of us. It can get us to where we need to go, unless you want to take your cut now and leave,” he continued.

Silence fell upon the group once again. “What’s it going to be?” Peter asked.

Tommy nodded his head slowly. It was surprising for him to back down so easily, especially from a smaller person. Either he was following orders from Peter now, or he’d become too exhausted to argue with anyone.

***

It was getting darker and colder when Peter led them into the city.

Gatesville could still be seen past the mist that covered the moors. When Benjamin took his last look at the old haggard building, it looked very small and desolate. The bare trees of autumn’s end surrounded its outer walls, making it look like an abandoned asylum. Benjamin shuddered at the haunting sight. The entire group shuddered with him when two policemen came into view from a bend in the road.

“Patrolmen?” whispered George.

“What now?” Tommy asked Peter. “You said this was the road to the city.”

“It is. But it looks like Jennings has already alerted the police,” Peter said, leading the three boys to hide in a ditch. Choosing the smallest, the three of them lifted Benjamin up to peek at the policemen’s feet that stood only a meter away from the ditch. “What do you see?” Peter asked.

“Two of them, there’s only two of them,” Benjamin whispered loudly.

“Only two on patrol?” Tommy grunted sardonically.

“
Bicycles!
” Benjamin gasped.

On Benjamin’s count, Tommy and George snuck out of the field’s ditch and rose up to ground level once the bobbies patrolled the area at a safe distance. Tommy tiptoed toward one of the parked bicycles and climbed onto its seat.

“Quick, jump on,” Tommy insisted, handing George a bicycle.

Benjamin signalled in panic when the bobbies returned from scouring the area and spotted both runaways trying to steal their bicycles.

Peter grabbed hold of Benjamin’s arm and helped him onto the seat of the bicycle George was steering.

“Ride!” shouted Peter after he rode on the back of the other bicycle with Tommy.

Both bicycles raced down the uneven road toward the city, when each bobby made an effort to cut through their path at a sly angle.

George let out a loud yell, nearly crashing into one of the men who made a lunge for him.

“Turn right! Right!” screamed Benjamin as they shot past him at great speed.

With a tight swing one bobby took hold of Peter’s coat in a desperate attempt to upset their balance. But Tommy remained undeterred from peddling forward.

“Gotcha!” rasped the policeman with a gloating grin seconds before Peter knocked the helmet off his head. The bobby let go of his grip to reach for it before tripping up.

Tommy and George peddled faster until they were all safe and out of reach of the police.

It didn’t take long for the tall buildings and back alleyways of London to conceal them as they entered the city.

George and Tommy climbed off their bicycles to stretch their legs while Peter studied his map. After the group had enough rest, the excitement and wonder of the city life slowly built up inside them. Travelling through the city was the beginning of Peter’s plan to reach the northern countryside.

London was not a fit place for children to roam about freely, but nobody seemed to care.

Pushing the stolen bicycles through the marketplace attracted several stall owners, shouting words at them in city slang they didn’t understand.

To his relief, Benjamin soon found himself onto another street with engine driven cars and old carriages. Long dressed ladies walked their groomed fluffy pets along cleaner pavement, shielding their heads with matching umbrellas.

Peter had lost his direction through the madness of the market place and consulted his map. Instead of moving further along the posh area, Peter re-directed the group through a shortcut down a remote lane.

The air was fresher here than the odd smells of the markets, but unfortunately, the city alleyways proved to be just as dark, even in daylight, as anywhere else.

Benjamin was the first to spot three young hoodlums loitering at the end of the alleyway, blocking the exit.

George stopped in his tracks, gripping the handlebars to the bicycle with all his might.

“L-let’s go back,” he stuttered. Peter calmly motioned for Benjamin to follow him toward the new faces at the bottom of the alleyway’s exit.

One boy appeared to be the same age as Benjamin and Tommy. The other two were much older and somewhat fierce looking.

“What ‘ave we ‘ere lads?” asked the eldest gang member in a very harsh cockney accent. “Looks like a bunch of silver spoon babies.”

“What is your name?” Peter asked the leader confidently.

“Duncan,” he muttered. “Just because you know my name, doesn’t mean we’ll let ya pass. This is our patch.”

Benjamin glanced behind his shoulder when he heard the clicking sounds of bicycle spokes approaching.

“Two more, this is going to be a fun fight,” mumbled Duncan to his fellow hooligans, before raising his fists to the four of them. Tommy threw his bicycle to the ground.

Duncan seemed unsure of Tommy for he looked more menacing than either of his friends. “I ‘ate you borstal boys, always coming round our turf.”

“Out of my way,” commanded Tommy.

Duncan laughed unexpectedly with his friends then lifted a large piece of broken wood behind a rusty bin and tapped it in his hand.

Tommy’s eyes widened in alarm.

“We’re not from here,” Peter said hastily.

“Clearly,” Duncan snickered.

“If you lead us to the central train station, we will give you these bicycles in return.”

Duncan looked to his friends who both raised an eyebrow to the offer, and a sudden smile spread across the tough boy’s face.

“Very well, Guvnor,” he replied. “This way!”

***

After a five-mile stretch across the city by foot, the Gatesville runaways overheard the mighty whistles and horns of a real train station for the first time.

“We’re almost there,” Duncan shouted back.

London’s central station had large queues at every platform. Tommy was fascinated by the beautiful black steam trains in front of them. One train in particular filled his multi-colored eyes with wonder. George wasn’t impressed by anything, except the food stalls nearby.

“I believe you owe us something,” Duncan demanded.

Peter motioned to Tommy and George and without hesitation the boys handed over the bicycles.

“Maybe we’ll bump into each other again someday,” Duncan said. “We could do with another bicycle.”

Tommy watched from the corner of his green eye as the three street thugs walked out of sight. Steam filled the air around them.

Peter took a single bob note out of the envelope from Benjamin before handing it back. He then purchased four tickets for the northbound line to Warwickshire at the ticket office.

Through the crowds and the steam, Benjamin spotted the smallest member of Duncan’s street gang look back to get a sneak peek at the envelope as he walked away.

“Our train will be leaving soon,” said Peter, leading the way through the small entrance to the platform.

Peter handed the train inspector four tickets. After punching a hole in each ticket, the train inspector permitted them to walk through to the northern line platform, mistaking them as part of a family traveling in a group, a common occurrence for a busy place such as London.

The four boys stood waiting for a few minutes before one loud train conductor began to shout. “Warwickshire train, all aboard. All aboard North Line to Warwickshire.”