life behind a lens

chapter seven

October 20, 2015 - Courts Castle, Wales

The next few weeks pass as slow as years, taunting me as I impatiently wait for the upcoming competition. I can't concentrate at all in lessons, my mind is distracted by the prospect of possibly winning the competition, which is is fixed as the most important subject in my brain.

In all my spare time I drag Becky with me to the trophy room, just to look at my sister's award. She doesn't seem to be that impressed though.

"It's only a silver shield isn't it?" she complains. "Anyway, why can't you take Rose with you, she is the reason you found out." She has a point.

Over the next few days Becky and I venture beyond the grounds to look for cool places to take photos, although we don't take up too much time off lessons, just to be safe from Mr Hallow. I don't see the fox again, but we spot a few rabbits, and ducks. Then, one day we are chasing one of the ducks (because we can), and come across a tiny pool of water.

This pond is hidden in a clearing, surrounded by silver birch and willow trees. Gold and silver fish dart beneath the clear rippling water, and a line of tiny brown and yellow ducklings glide before us, following their mother. A small squeaking announces the arrival of six grey mice, which scamper around my ankles. To complete the scene, a weeping willow tree curls its low hanging branches over the pool, the tips of its leaves just touching the surface of the clear blue water.

Soon a gentle breeze springs up, causing the willow leaves to bounce off the pond, creating smooth ripples across the blue surface. What appears to be a thousand dragonflies rise from the pool, circling up to the topmost branches and creating a picturesque view.

***

Three days later, the minibus rumbles down the road. We are heading to the competition. It is being held at the old Courts Castle, in the northern region of Wales.

I grip my shoulder bag with nervousness and exhilaration; I can't contain my excitement for the event. Gazing down at the screen of my camera, I scroll through the photos for the one of the red fox. Becky has entered a photograph she took of the mysterious pond we found the other day. She has titled her picture Thousands (most likely to remind her of the dragonflies) and mine is called A Winter Gift.

The minibus screeches to a halt outside a very grand looking castle. It's ancient; rulers used to live here for centuries, but now the place is widely used for important events or celebrations. As two guards lead us through the gleaming oak double doors, a shiver of anticipation runs through me like a bolt of lightning. We walk into the main hall, which is absolutely enormous. Millions of faces stare up at me, all dressed in very strange, and very smart uniforms. The time has come to compete against the country, for our school.

***

Names of schools, colleges and academies are starting to be called out, followed by winners for different categories and runners up. The presenter, a young looking lady dressed in a hipster-style tshirt and jeans, rather casual for the event, progresses through the alphabet until she comes to the 'Ls'.

"London Photography Academy." She calls out in a crisp, clear voice. "The winner for the best landscape photo is Lily Porter!"

We all applaud extremely loudly for Lily, as she walks up to the stage to proudly receive her award.

"The award for best scientific or unnatural award goes to Sandra Jones!"

I clap politely for her, even though she is a rather annoying girl who is a real nerd. No doubt she took a photo of some manmade sculpture in London. Butterflies appear in my stomach. The last category, before final winners, is nature, the one Becky and I are aiming for. If neither of us gets this, there's no way we will win the final award; of course it will go to Stephanie Clark, the one who won every competition at primary school.

"Our next category is for best nature picture, and this goes to Lara Davies!"

I feel as though someone has dropped a huge chunk of ice to the bottom of my stomach.

My mind goes blank with despair. I feel empty, all our searching has been for nothing, and now I will have to look on in shame as Stephanie Clark collects her stupid prize.

"We have got an exception to our next, and last prize. Two of the entries given in were so impressive we had to give two awards out, in our desire to see both photos receive a prize."

Great. Stephanie gets a double prize. What luck for me.

But what the presenter, Pippa, says next is a spark of hope for me and Becky, the weight of doom is lifted off our shoulders.

"I give the final awards for best photographs taken to Becky Green and Alice Evans!"