The Summer We Turned Green by William Sutcliffe

Author:William Sutcliffe [Sutcliffe, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781526632845
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2021-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

The next day, Mum’s out at work and Dad is doing whatever it is he does to pass the time in the commune, so after a late breakfast and a couple of slightly aimless hours in the park with some school friends, I settle in with Sky for a marathon gaming, TV and snacks session. We also fit in a game of chess, because I’ve been looking up tactics online and am determined to beat her – but, yet again, I don’t manage it.

Even more annoying than losing to her at chess is the fact that while she’s deciding on her moves I stare at the board, plotting and scheming, but while I’m thinking about mine, she turns her attention to the sketch pad she always carries around with her and scratches away at drawings of birds and dragons that usually end up as good as any illustration you’d find in a book. Maddeningly she often looks as if she’s thinking harder about the drawings than the chess.

It’s late afternoon before we eventually step outside into the dazzling sunlight and discover that work has already begun on the treehouse. A heap of timber has been dumped at the foot of the huge oak in the front garden of the commune, with a pulley rigged up on a loop over the top branches.

At the bottom, the pulley is being operated by Rose and Space, who we find tying a stack of planks to a rope. Rose’s T-shirt is dark with sweat, and Space is wearing only sandals and a pair of shorts whose camouflage pattern is almost entirely camouflaged by blotches of dirt. The only thing Space ever seems to wear on his top half is his drum.

When she sees me, Rose smiles, wipes a forearm across her brow and says, ‘Hi – how are you doing?’

I can’t remember the last time she greeted me with anything that isn’t a version of ‘What do you want?’, so for a moment I’m thrown by her unexpected friendliness.

The first reply that occurs to me is, ‘Why are you being nice to me?’ but instead I settle for a simple, ‘Good.’

‘The treehouse is taking shape already,’ she replies, pointing upwards.

It’s hard to see through the foliage, but a couple of people seem to be high up in the tree, tied on with harnesses and ropes. A web of joists has been nailed into place and a platform is beginning to be laid on to them.

‘That’s high!’ says Sky, squinting up into the sun.

‘Your mum’s at work with a team in the garden making a rope ladder,’ replies Rose. ‘You can go and see, if you want, or you can give us a hand here.’

Sky heads round to the back of the house to see her mum (or maybe just to see the rope ladder), but I stay put to help Rose with the pulley.

‘Who’s up there?’ I ask, as we set to work securing the next plank.

‘Clyde and Martha.’

‘Martha?’

‘You know – the one that fancies Dad.

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