The Holmes Chapel Tales - Tale of the Skeleton Army

Shadows Unveiled

Sweat rolled down the length of James's arm as he sat at the edge of the schools lower playing field, the sun beating down on him. Coming down to the grounds of the comprehensive school to play a game of football with friends had seemed like such a good idea in the cool of the morning. But now the reality of the situation had taken hold. After only half an hour of playing, James had to give up, overwhelmed by the heat, unable to play any longer. He now sat on the touch line, watching the blurred outlines of his friends, as they continued to play. In the heat haze, they seemed like a mirage, James not even sure if they were real.

It had been hot like this for many weeks now, which for Britain was unusual. The British are famous for being obsessed with the weather, and there's a very simple reason for that. In most other parts of the world, what the weather will be like, month to month, season to season is fairly predictable. Generally summers are hot, winters are cold, and springs and autumns are somewhere in between. But the same can not be said for Britain!

The only certainty about the British weather is that you can be certain it won't do what you expect it to. Winters can be mild and damp, rather than cold, and sometimes spring in Britain can be colder than winter!

Summers can be warm and pleasant, but that usually only lasts a couple of weeks at most. Generally British summers are a massive let down, and end up being wet and even cold! But this summer was very different. So far, the surprising thing about this summer was that it was doing what it was suppose to do. Since mid May, it had been hot and dry, and each passing day had gotten a little hotter. So you'd think that the people of Britain would be happy that the summer had arrived properly. But the other truth about the British is that they love to have a moan.

It didn't take long for people to start getting fed up of the heat, and James was one of them. He'd always classed himself as more of a winter person. He loved the snow and the ice, and to James there was nothing better than cozying up next to the fire while the weather outside was atrocious.

The heat was just not his thing. Usually on a day like this, you'd find James under the shade of the biggest tree he could find, and as he sat there baking, James began to wonder to himself why he hadn't yet done this. It didn't take him long to discover the closest patch of shadow to where he was.

The southern most edge of the school grounds, and exactly where James was sat, was marked not by a fence or hedge, but something far more natural. Only yards from where James sat, the land dropped away quite suddenly marking the edge of the Croco valley.

The river Croco marked the southern boundery of the village. This river was far smaller than the Dane to the north, it's waters clear, and it's valley far more subtle than that of the river Dane. For most of its journey from East to West, the valley that followed the Croco was almost indistinguishable from the land both north and south of it. It's edges had been blurred, it's cliffs and banks faded by endless rows of fields to the south, and the very houses of Holmes Chapel to the north.

Unlike the Dane valley, which was too deep, and who's sides were too steep to effectively build on, the Croco valley was not much more than a gentle slope. So rather than deterring builders, it's gentle gradiant had actually added a kind of personality to the housing estates now built over it. In many places the estates and cul de sacs came right up to the rivers edge. Where this happened the river had become a tamed thing, with concrete embankments and drains put in place to stop floods. But at the edge of the school grounds, the Croco valley took a rather different form.

Though the lower playing field had been built on a portion of the valley, there was only so much of this land the school could make use of, and so at its southern edge, the valley had been left untamed and wild, the river flowing unrestricted, and valley here still filled by woods. This wild strip of land at the edge of the school grounds now called out to James, it's informal lines tantalising against the stark formality of the school fields, it's patches of shade beckoning to him now.