Learning to Fly

Excerpts From The Book

“I can’t really believe it. I’m gonna fly. Everything’ll be different.” Under the duvet Connor clenched his fists with delight. There was no way he could sleep, he ran over and over the action. Connor taking to the air, Connor airborne, Connor performing some stunts, Connor landing smoothly. All you could hear was the ooh-ing and aah-ing from Jack and his friends. Connor could hear their words, a mix of ‘isn’t Connor brilliant’ and ‘wow I’d like to be like Connor’.

Claire had done the right thing. They would have worried to death. They would have questioned her to death. It would have been like a court session.
She wouldn’t have spoken up in the end. It wouldn’t have been worth it. Nothing serious enough. Patchy. No witnesses. One word against another. Case dismissed.
Round Two and worse again. Bullies don’t like being squealed on. Should have known that before you squealed. Don’t go running to Mummy and Daddy. Can’t go running to Mum and Dad. Have to help yourself, dear. Done all we can. If you won’t speak up then…. No, keeping the bullying a secret was definitely the right thing. When the time was right, she would explain everything. She could just imagine it….

“OK, Hannah, I said leave this to me.” Charlotte turned to Claire, her face full of disdain. “We’ve been easy on you up till now. That’s why you thought you could get away with it, wasn’t it? Well, up to now, maybe we’ve only been practising, warming up like. I think it’s time we taught you a real lesson, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” snarled Victoria and Hannah.
“I’ve got a special surprise for you this morning. Well, I should say, Victoria has a special surprise for you. Don’t you Vicky?”
“Erm – yeah, yeah I do.”
“Well, go on. Give Clever Claire her little surprise.”
“Yeah, OK, but what….”
“Give her what I’ve been practising with you.”
“Yeah, Charl, but you said….”
“Listen, Vicky, give it to her! Or are me and Hannah wasting our time?”
Victoria stood there twitching.
“Give it to her, Vicky! Remember what she done. It was Clever Claire who told on yer. She got you grounded. She lost you yer money.” Victoria’s eyes narrowed, she gritted her teeth, swung her arm out behind her and, with all her might, brought her fist forward to bury itself into Claire’s solar plexus.
“Good shot, Vicky!”
Like a popped balloon, every last drop of air seemed to escape Claire’s lungs. The pain was excruciating. She bent down, hugging her knees. It hurt to breathe. She gasped for air. She closed her eyes. A strange calm descended upon her. She was somewhere else. She liked it here, rooted to the ground, almost subterranean. Still, the silence. Seconds passed. Claire lifted her head. Charlotte was sneering at her, Hannah too. Victoria grinned. They were patting her on the back. Hands moved to hips. All three stared at her.
“There, that’s your best lesson, Clever Claire. One you’ll never forget! Come on, you two, leave her here. See you in class, Clever Claire.”
They ambled away. Suddenly, they wheeled around – Charlotte finger pointing, eyes stabbing. “And don’t get any clever ideas, Clever Claire! You can’t win. We can really get unfriendly if you say the wrong thing. Best you don’t upset us if you know what’s good for you.”
The lesson bell sounded; Claire dragged herself to her feet and tottered back towards the classroom. The pain was superficial and fading but the hurt was deepening. Sitting at her desk, Claire realised there was only one doctor – herself.

Jack’s curling left foot sent the ball behind the last defender and into the path of Connor making his perfectly timed run. This was it then. “Just like on the green,” Connor thought to himself. They’d played centre and shoot, practising for hours with each other. This should be a piece of cake then.
“Control the ball, yes. Steady yourself, yes. Keep on towards the goal, yes.” But what was that coming towards him? There were no real goalkeepers on the green, only imaginary figures who let you waltz round them and put it in the net. Wilko didn’t look as if he was going to give in that easily.
Connor made the mistake of looking up at Wilko. Wilko’s face said he wasn’t ever going to let Connor score. “Still, easy does it. No chance of a lob with me travelling at speed. Shoot now? No, he’s coming out at me, he’ll more than likely block it. So, here goes, round him. Easy move to the left or right. But which way? Panic! Can’t make up my mind. Right, better my best foot. No, he’ll guess too easily. Dummy left? Maybe not. Turn right now! Turn!”
Connor’s brain seemed to send his legs in different directions. He tripped, fell backwards and ended up in a sitting position, doing the splits. Wilko calmly plucked the ball from between his legs. Connor wanted to die, just die, there and then. That was it. He might as well have not been on the pitch for the remainder of the game. He didn’t want to touch the ball. His confidence had hit rock bottom.

“Shall we get her now, Charl? Right now?” Hannah awaited instructions.
“No, not yet. We’ll make her sweat a bit. Then we’ll make her think she’s OK and then we’ll really do her.” Charlotte screwed up her face. “No-one talks to me like that and gets away with it. I hate that Clever Claire. She makes me want to puke. All her homework done, nice and neat and small. Well, get this, I’m gonna teach her a lesson and you two are going to help me.”
“Too right we are,” Hannah agreed.
“OK, Charl,” said Victoria.
“When Charl?”
“Next week. It’ll give me time to plan what we’re going to do.”

“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! You had it timed perfectly – running into it, I mean. One touch and you buried it. Goalkeeper wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
“Thanks, Jack. I’ve just got to be able to do it when it really matters – not on our Saturday morning kick-about.”

“Why did they leave you here, Charl? I though they were your friends. Where’s the bloke gone – the one you fancied? All of a sudden Charlotte sprang to life. She stood up shakily and grabbed Hannah by the shoulders. She stood over her, shaking her and shouting, screaming.
“Don’ keep asking questions, right! He’s gone, they’re gone, all of them – and the losers can all go to hell! I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate him!” Charlotte sank back on to the log, head between her knees, sobbing her heart out. “You two don’t understand. You just ask your stupid questions.”
Hannah stood shaking, she was crying too.
Victoria tried to calm the situation. “Charl, Hannah only wanted to help. She’s worried about you, we both are. If we didn’t care we wouldn’t have come looking for you.”
Charlotte slurred slowly, weeping out the words, “Yeah, sure, Vic. You don’t even know what you’re talking about, you two. And I’ll tell you another thing – you have no idea how I’m feeling so how can you help? How can anyone help? I’ve lost everything worth having. No one wants me. They say they do at first but in the end they don’t. They all clear off.”

They rounded a corner. Claire caught her first glimpse of the cliffs. Her heart jumped.
“It’s going to be OK. Honest. The design is great. You’ve built it really well. Think about it. Everybody’s nervous when they’re about to fly – even in an aeroplane!”
“Yeah, but they’re not experiments. We haven’t exactly tried this before.”
“OK, we haven’t, but other people have with their gliders – not exactly like ours, but almost.”
“Yeah, that’s it. It’s just that I’d like someone else to have a go with my kit first – before I do.” They reached the top of the lane. Cliff tops beckoned to them, fifty metres distant. Claire stood still.
“OK, it is frightening and we haven’t tested the kit but where would we be now if other people, like Percy Pilcher, hadn’t done their experiments?”
Connor looked to the ground, nodding. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said.
Claire stopped still. She looked towards the sky. “Isn’t it fantastic! Perfect weather conditions. No mist now, just a blue sky and a bright sun. A bit cold perhaps, but then it is November. Can you feel that gentle breeze blowing off the sea? There are no strong winds to blow you off course. It just couldn’t be better! And… just as we planned, we’re on our own.” Claire looked all about her.
“There’s no-one around for miles. Here, put these on.”
She handed him the gloves, balaclava, ski trousers and jacket.
“Right, time to put this kit together. Let’s head for the bushes, we’ll be sheltered there.”
Behind the sea buckthorn hedge they fitted the wings, joined together by the seven wooden battens carried in the rucksack. These battens were nailed and then screwed at either end into each of the wings.
“Don’t forget, you hang on to the middle strut – it’s the thickest and strongest. It’ll easily take your weight. All we have to do now is get the wings the right way up and make sure you can hold them up.”
The kit wasn’t too heavy. Connor stretched his arms and held the wings above his head.
“OK, so far so good. Follow me – you’re going to need a short run-up.”

They continued on the top path past the frozen boating lake and the lonely pitch and putt course. A thin sheet of white was settling on the lawns and hedges of houses backing on to the path.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it that far – back to the take-off spot, I mean.”
“Me neither,” Connor answered.
“The snow’s heavier too. It would be very slippery up there.”
“I’m just not sure. I want to do it but I don’t want to spoil everything, not after all we’ve done.”
“No, it just doesn’t feel right.”
“OK, so why don’t we do it, but somewhere safer – still on the cliffs though?”
“Yeah, alright. Where?”
Claire pointed.
“Just at the end of the houses. There, at the top of the hill. We can go down on the steps then cut across through the bushes. It’s sheltered down there. I could do with getting out of this.”