TWO HISTORY INSIDERS
TWO
HISTORY INSIDERS
O n the edge of Craythorn Forest, nestled among towering oaks and whispering beech trees, sits Sarumbourne College.
I hear the board of directors takes immense pride in its scenic location, evident in the glossy prospectus showcasing the campus against the backdrop of the lush forest. For many, this natural appeal is a compelling reason to choose Sarumbourne over the state-of-the-art technical college in nearby Southampton. But that’s not why I chose here.
While Southampton might offer more intriguing courses, the prospect of enduring daily bus rides didn’t appeal to me due to my inability to keep down food on long journeys.
More importantly, Lily and Jack chose Sarumbourne, and there was no way I’d let them venture into this new chapter of our lives without me by their side.
My strange dreams aside, mornings have become challenging lately.
In the past, school was just a couple of minutes away on foot.
But college is on the other side of the city, and it’s about a thirty-minute trek.
I had convinced myself over the summer that I would get better, that starting fresh in my first year of college would be motivating.
As it turns out, it was the opposite. The truth is I just don’t enjoy academic stuff.
I hate studying, and I yearn to be out there in the world, doing something with my life. But what is that something?
Unlike me, Lily has had her life meticulously planned out since she was old enough to talk.
As I step through the open gates, the college’s faded red-brick facade comes into view. Its large, white Georgian sash windows protrude slightly from its walls. The prospectus said the building is early nineteenth century.
A long tarmac road, flanked by lush green lawns, leads to the grand arched entrance, which now, to the disappointment of many, has the addition of double automatic doors – ‘quite a daring feat for a listed building,’ my mum said when we arrived at last year’s open day.
Beyond the college, the forest stands tall, displaying its autumnal brilliance, leaves ablaze with tones of yellow, orange, and red, a sight that never fails to captivate me.
I check my phone and realise I’m already late for history class.
Driving lessons were meant to free me from the shackles of walking, but six lessons in, I demonstrated my driving skills by expertly reversing into a lamp post. After that embarrassment, I’ll need some time before I can get behind the wheel again. Mum was far too quick to agree.
In a momentary pause, I catch my reflection in a car window. My dream-heavy nights have left me with shadows etched under my brown eyes.
A few policemen are finishing up some business outside the college’s entrance with Principal Gellar.
A handful of students linger near the main doors, seemingly reluctant to begin the day’s academic activities.
The overcast sky threatens rain. I hasten my steps, sensing an imminent downpour.
Just as the first drops splatter on my forehead, I slip through the entrance.
‘Now, Henry VII ascended to the throne in 1485 and succeeded in ending the Wars of the Roses.’ My history teacher’s voice resonates through the classroom. ‘Can anyone tell me when his reign came to a close?’
The door to the classroom is ajar, and I hesitate before entering. Swiftly, I open Google on my phone.
‘1519!’ a familiar voice calls out.
I step into the room before Miss Williams can respond. ‘Actually, that would be on his death in 1509.’ I gleefully smile at Lily, who is sitting at the back. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
Miss Williams arches an eyebrow at me. Perhaps she expected a more elaborate apology.
‘That’s correct, Liam. How’s the hand?’ she asks, surprising me with her concern.
‘Less painful today,’ I reply, holding it up to show her.
Whispers buzz around the classroom, no doubt speculating about how I injured my hand. I’m sure their guesses are far more glamorous than the reality of punching a vending machine in frustration.
‘Good. Take a seat.’ Miss Williams gestures toward the empty chair beside Lily.
I settle in and drop my bag, nudging Lily playfully. ‘You definitely googled that date, didn’t you?’ she whispers.
‘Guilty as charged.’ I smirk. ‘I guess I missed all the excitement outside, huh?’
‘What happened earlier? You looked pretty freaked out on the phone.’
Classic Lily, getting straight to the point. I was hoping we’d at least make it through history before getting into this. ‘You might think I’m crazy.’
‘No change there, then.’
I shoot her a look. ‘So, last night, I had this dream—’
‘Ooh, a dream, huh?’
‘Yes, a dream. Stop kidding around; I’m serious—’
‘Mr O’Connor,’ Miss Williams interjects, her tone firm. ‘No chatting when you show up late to my class.’
All eyes in the room turn to me.
I offer a sheepish nod of apology, and Miss Williams quickly resumes the lesson, pointing to a photograph of the Tudor Rose crest displayed on the digital screen.
Lily leans in closer. ‘Tell me more at lunch, okay, Martin Luther King?’
Like during most lunchtimes, the college refectory is spirited and full of life.
It’s just gone midday and the large open hall is beginning to fill with hungry students.
Television screens are wall-mounted between the windows on one side of the space, many playing the latest pop music videos, others with updates of college news.
To the other side is a large kitchen and food bar, the smell of fried food wafting through the air.
A noisy queue stretches across the hall, with students clamouring to get the chips while they are still hot.
Once we’d nabbed our lunch, Lily and I successfully bypassed the crowd, securing a more secluded table near the edge of the hall.
With half a chip in her mouth, Lily is staring at me blankly.
I have just revealed everything I could remember from my dream, and now I’m anxiously awaiting her response.
This is uncharted territory for us – never before had I shared something so outlandish with Lily.
I left out the part about the evil eyes and burning body; that might be a step too far.
‘Are you going to say anything?’
‘I’m processing,’ Lily replies, fiddling with the sleeves of her baby-blue jumper. The large top falls down over her tight grey jeans; jeans that run to ankle-high black boots.
I take the last bite of my hot dog, watching her as she takes in a deep breath.
‘Okay. Let me get this straight,’ she begins, tossing her hair back behind her. ‘You had a nightmare in which you watched a girl get attacked by some creepy guys in cloaks. Then some cowboy-styled man stabs her and leaves her for dead.’
I nod, taking a sip of my coffee.
‘Hm.’ Lily pauses.
‘What?’
‘It reminds me of something I watched on Netflix last week.’
I throw my napkin at her. ‘Can we take this seriously please?’
‘Sorry. So, you think this girl in your dream is Katie?’
‘I think so,’ I say, sitting back in my chair. ‘I knew I recognised her face but I couldn’t think where from until our call this morning. The girl in my dream is the missing student, Katie.’
Lily nods slowly. ‘Liam, hun. You look tired. You need some rose quartz. It’ll help you sleep. I’ve got some in the bag—’
I hastily put down my coffee, spilling some in the process.
‘Lily, I don’t need your stones, I need answers. I know how this must sound, and I don’t even understand it myself. But I saw Katie die, and now, today, she’s missing. How would you handle something like this?’
Lily’s expression changes, as if she’s finally grasping that I’m not making this up as some kind of prank.
‘Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s just assume you’re right. Where did it happen?’
I have no idea. It was a wooded area, and I knew it, but most of Sarumbourne is surrounded by trees, fields, and farmland. I was born and bred in this small city; everywhere feels recognisable.
‘I’m not sure; it was dark.’
‘Well, you said you were surrounded by trees, so you were probably in a forest. Do you remember anything about it?’
Barely. Apart from the ground I was standing on, there were dead leaves everywhere, and the—
‘Cigarettes!’ I blurt out.
Lily’s eyes widen. ‘Okay, I don’t think taking up smoking is the way forward for you.’
‘No.’ I roll my eyes. ‘I mean there were cigarette ends on the ground. The knife fell and I remember seeing them.’
A tray suddenly slams down next to us. Both Lily and I jump, snapping out of our concentration.
‘Who’s got that Friday feeling?’
Jack is peering over us. He’s wearing dark grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt with an illustration of Ellie from The Last of Us . He kicks his bag under the bench as he takes a seat next to Lily.
‘Hey, Jack,’ I say, glancing at Lily as Jack shimmies closer to her.
I enjoy quietly observing Lily and Jack together.
It brings me immense joy to see them no longer tangled in awkwardness – the first couple of weeks of college had been quite uncomfortable.
Nearly five years of pining over Lily, and Jack had finally mustered the courage to ask her out on a date over the summer.
I knew Lily would say no, but I admired Jack for taking that leap of faith.
After the rejection, he sought comfort in my company, and together, we drowned his sorrows in tubs of Ben Lily has always been clear about the kind of guy she is attracted to, and Jack isn’t it.