Page 8 of The Fall I Fell

Callum nodded his head so enthusiastically you’d have thought she’d just asked him to swim in a chocolate river, or pet a new-born puppy. I couldn’t believe we were actually twins in that moment.

But I watched as Callum and Sir Elizabeth jabbed their sticks at each other, getting further and further away from the willow in their excitement. Every time Callum would get a little too close, he’d mumble an apology quickly, before Lizzie would use his moment of chivalric hesitation to strike harder and faster than before. With every clash of branch, I cringed, waiting for it all to be over.

That was, until Jacob climbed down from his perch to stand beside me.

‘Thank you, by the way,’ I said to him.

‘You already said that.’ When he saw my confused expression, he clarified, ‘In your letter.’

‘Well, my toe is much better.’ An awkwardness settled over us for a second.

‘You don’t want to join the joust?’ he asked.

‘Don’t you?’

He shrugged. He was standing closer to me now and I could see each freckle that decorated his nose and cheeks.

‘Why have you already got mud on your face?’ I asked, leaning forward to rub it off, like Granny did to me when we stood at the sink washing our hands before teatime.

Jacob dodged my fingers. ‘Why don’t you already have mud on your face?’ He smiled properly now, his eyes nearly disappearing behind the creases of his skin.

He bolted behind the curtain of willow leaves, re-emerging a moment later with both hands caked in soil as though he’d just washed them in a mole hill. He paced towards me slowly, intention clear on his smirking face.

‘Don’t you dare.’ I narrowed my eyes at him, suspiciously backing away.

‘What?’ His face softened into a look of innocence, but still he continued walking towards me, one slow step at a time. ‘You know … a lot of animals use mud as a sort of sun cream. Our pigs splash in the mud every summer. It keeps them cool.’ He rubbed his hands together conspiratorially, folding the mud over his palms until it clung together in one great glob.

Dodging away from him, I attempted to hide behind the thickest part of the trunk, but we paced around it, stalking each other like predator and prey, the threat of muddy t-shirts looming. Deciding I wasn’t going to be the first to fall, I scooped up a fistful of mud, feeling it slot under my nails, and tossed it around the tree. I missed, but it splattered across his feet as it hit the ground.

‘That’s it!’ He laughed as he chased me around the trunk. I screamed and ran, but he was faster, and soon he had one of my arms in his grip. He hugged me close as I wriggled to try and free myself. When he finally held me still, I squeezed my eyes close and prepared for defeat, expecting a big splatter of mud everywhere.

Instead, a soft hand presses against my cheek, and a cold smudge covered my face as he branded me softly with a muddy handprint. When I opened my eyes again, he had released me to take a step back and admire his work.

‘Go on, then,’ Jacob said, gesturing to his face. ‘My turn.’ He pushed his chin out before me and I smeared my own muddy hand on his opposite cheek. ‘Now we have our own secret group.’ He grinned, caked in soil, before running back to the stick fight. I followed him, hoping my brother hadn’t been impaled, my face so warm I could feel the mud of his print drying out and cracking already.

By the time we reached the others, the ‘fight to the death’ had been resolved. Callum had lost, but because he put up such worthy fight, King William had accepted him as a knight for his bravery.

‘To the swing?’ Jacob suggested, not letting any more knightly squabbles test whether or not I could join.

‘Race you there!’ Alfie screamed, already running towards a treeline.

We all ran, and by the time we reached the edge of a stream, it didn’t matter who had won. Will and Lizzie were arguing between themselves while Callum watched on, amused, and Alfie was kicking at the grass, already bored. Lizzie held a knot of rope in her hands that she kept pushing towards her eldest cousin.

‘Go on. You go first, you’re the biggest,’ she said.

Will pushed her hand away. ‘You’re the champion knight, so you should go first.’

I surveyed the rope from afar. It was tied around a thick branch that reached over the stream. I was pretty sure I could leap across with a good enough run up.

‘How about guests first?’ Lizzie turned to Cal, who flushed once again.

‘Absolutely not,’ he declared.

‘Jake?’ Will addressed his brother, who eyed me nervously before reluctantly reaching for the rope.

‘You bunch of babies!’ I pushed him aside and grabbed it myself. ‘Clear out!’ I said, and everyone shuffled aside to give me a path. When I was far enough away from the stream, I held on tight, ran, and sprang onto the rope.

I swang across the stream, once, twice, three times—