Lewis had drifted off to sleep dreaming of Dubhar and his herd thundering across the moor, heading to the safety of the forest. But his dream became a nightmare when Dubhar turned and charged towards him, steam billowing like smoke from his flaring nostrils. The unicorn lowered his huge head, preparing to charge, and Lewis ran for his life and fell into a peat bog, up to his neck. Terror rose in his throat and he tried to scream, but he was turning to stone and his scream was silent. He tried to move his arm and hit something hard, sent it flying. The crash woke him.
Nothing was broken: he’d knocked a book off the table. All was well. He lay back on the pillow, breathing slowly. His sheet was twisted round his legs, and the blanket was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, kicked off during his nightmare. When he put his hand on his forehead it was clammy with sweat, and he felt shivery, as if he was coming down with a fever. But when the doctor came, he left again within minutes, after listening to Lewis’s chest and checking his blood pressure.
“He says you’re in splendid health, but probably best to rest today,” said Scott. “So I’m afraid you’ll miss the gorge walk. Highlight of the trip as well. Mr Deacon has kindly said he’ll stay behind in the Centre. He has your end-of-term reports to write, you’ll be pleased to hear. Your mate Rhona is going to stay too and keep you company, so we’re sorted. I’ll bring you in some brekkie!”
Lewis was angry with himself because Rhona was going to miss the gorge walk. He heard the crunch of boots on gravel, and his classmates’ voices drifting in through the window.
“What actually is a gorge walk, Scott?” asked Flora. “It sounds really scary!”
“You know perfectly well what a gorge walk is, Flora,” snapped Miss James, sounding much less bouncy than she had yesterday. “It was thoroughly explained during the pre-trip talk.”
“It’s a walk through a gorge, basically, so you’re going to get wet!” called Scott. “It’ll be a real challenge, especially after all this rain!”
“Why’s everyone wearing wellies?”
Trust Derek McIvor to ask a stupid question.
“Because you’ll be walking through water, and some of it will be deep.” Scott’s voice sounded a little strained, as if his reserves of patience were beginning to run dry. “Derek, what have you got on your feet, mate? Go back and get your boots!”
“But my boots are soaking. I went up to my ankles in mud yesterday. Will my trainers not do?”
Lewis waited until the bus rumbled off, then tugged open the curtains. Sun streamed into the room. Outside, the scenery was breathtakingly beautiful, the sky bright blue. The moorland, burnished copper in the sunlight, was backed by jagged mountains, still snow-capped in late spring. He pushed the window further open, breathed in the fresh air. It was so quiet and calm. The tightness in his chest began to ease.
He jumped when the door was flung open and Rhona bounded in.
“Oops. I should have chapped. You could have been in the scud, but luckily you aren’t. What are we going to do all day? Will we play Scabby Queen?”
They played cards for a while, but Rhona was a blatant cheat as always, so it didn’t go well. While Lewis was very relieved not to be taking part in the gorge walk, guilt nagged at him because Rhona was missing it. She didn’t seem at all bothered, but she was an expert at keeping her feelings hidden.
They didn’t see Mr Deacon. He stayed in his room all morning, though Rhona raised her eyebrows when Lewis said he’d be working on their end-of-term reports.
“He’ll be having a lie-in. He must be shattered, cos of the carry-on with you, and then Jay Fergusson spewing up all over his bed. At least Jay didn’t sick up all over people the way you did. That was the funniest thing ever.”
“Thanks for dredging that up, pal. It was four years ago, you know. Do you not think it’s time to forgive and forget?”
Rhona grinned, eyes twinkling. “How could I forget The Day You Sicked Up in School? It was the day we became best pals.”
“I’m not sure it happened that exact day. You weren’t that chuffed when I puked over your shoes.”
But it was true enough. If Lewis hadn’t vomited in an art lesson during his first week at Eastgate Primary, he might never have become best friends with Rhona. When he’d arrived, looking completely wrong in his Bellwood cap, shorts and grey knee socks, Rhona had barely registered his existence. At the end of the first day, he’d pleaded with his mum to take him back to Bellwood. She’d pointed out that some of the Eastgate pupils were refugees from war-torn countries and must feel a lot more displaced than him, but it hadn’t helped. Back then, all he could see was that everyone else seemed to have friends. He’d been miserable and isolated, but his sick splattering on Rhona’s socks had changed everything. It earned him the nickname Spewy Lewy for a while too, but that hadn’t been Rhona’s doing. Flora had thought up the name; even aged seven she’d known how to hurt.
While the other kids had shrieked in disgust as vile-smelling carroty sick spewed from Lewis’s mouth and splashed over their masterpieces, Rhona had stayed calm. She’d wiped up the mess on her socks with a paper towel, ignored her wrecked painting, and focused on Lewis, standing shuddering in his plastic apron.
“That was boggin’,” she’d said, head cocked like a robin’s as she gave her diagnosis. “Your face is green as Shrek’s, so you must have a bug. I’ll get Miss McKay.”
“Look what he did!” Flora Dixon’s face had screwed up, and Lewis could still remember how ugly she’d looked, her neat little features distorted with rage. “My picture’s wasted! There’s sick on my shoes! I’m telling my mum!”
“Shut your trap, Flora!” snapped Rhona, shoving her hard. “He can’t help being sick, and your painting was rubbish anyway.”
Lewis had been sent home that afternoon, but when he’d returned the next morning, still feeling awful, Rhona had come to see him in the library corner, and had actually sat still for twenty minutes and listened while he’d read a chapter of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone aloud. He’d brought the book from home and had been keen to impress, reading without stumbling, even on ‘mysterious’. Lewis remembered that he’d given Hagrid a funny, growly voice.
Rhona had been impressed: impressed enough to decide that Lewis would make an excellent replacement for Kayleigh Rutherford, who had been dumped as best pal after failing to invite Rhona to her seventh birthday.
She’s been there for me ever since. And friends don’t keep secrets from each other, do they? But what will she say if I tell her I saw a unicorn last night? Will she believe me or will she think I’ve lost my mind?
He decided he needed to try. “Can we move the subject away from vomit, please? I want to talk to you about last night.”
Rhona put her cards down on the table and leaned back, a wary look in her eyes. Lewis chewed on his lip, unsure how to begin.