Tunnels 01, Tunnels

know, the infill is exactly the same as in the Pits tunnel -- it's all wrong. There are lumps of limestone again," he said, loosening his tie and pulling it over his head before discarding it next to the crumpled blazer on the floor. "This is too much of a coincidence." He returned to the mouth of the passage and leaned in. "And did you notice the props?" he said, running his hand over one that was just within reach. "This was no accident. This has been hacked at and pulled in on purpose."
    Chester joined his friend at the opening and examined the props, which had deep notches sliced into them. They were cut almost clear through in places, as if someone had been swinging an ax at them.
    "Blimey, you're right," he said.
    Will rolled up his sleeves. "Better get started, then. No time like the present." He ducked into the passage, dragging behind him a bucket he'd found just inside the opening.
    Chester looked down at his school uniform. He opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it, removed his blazer, and hung it neatly on the back of a chair.

     

14

    "Go!" said Will in an urgent whisper as he crouched low within the shadows of the hedge bordering the Common at the bottom of the garden.
    Chester growled with the effort as he heaved the overladen wheelbarrow into motion and then weaved precariously between the trees and shrubs. Reaching open ground, he veered off to the right toward the gullies they were using to dump the spoil. From the mounds of fresh earth and small cairns of rock already deposited there, it was evident to Will that his father had been using these gullies for the very same purpose.
    Will kept a watchful eye open for any passersby as Chester swiftly emptied the barrow at the top of the gully. He deftly spun it around for the return journey, while Will remained behind to push in any large pieces of rock or clumps of soil and clay.
    Once that was done, Will caught up with Chester. As they were retracing the well-trodden route back to the garden, the wheel on the old barrow began to squeal piercingly, perhaps protesting the countless trips it had been forced to make. The noise cut through the peaceful calm of the balmy autumn evening.
    Both boys froze abruptly in their tracks, looking around to check whether it had attracted any attention from the nearby houses.
    Trying to catch his breath, Chester bent forward with his hands resting on his knees as Will stooped to examine the offending wheel.
    "We'll have to oil that stupid thing again."
    "Duh, do you think so?" Chester puffed sarcastically.
    "I think you'd better carry it back," Will replied coldly as he straightened up.
    "Do I have to?" Chester groaned.
    "Come on, I'll give you a hand," Will said as he grabbed hold of the front of the barrow.
    They lugged it the remaining distance, grunting and cursing under their breath but maintaining a strict silence as they crossed the back yard. They trod lightly as they negotiated the small ramp down to the rear entrance into the cellar.
    "My turn at the face, I suppose." Will gasped as they both flopped with exhaustion onto the concrete floor. Chester didn't answer.
    "You all right?" Will asked him.
    Chester nodded groggily, then squinted at his watch. "I think I should be getting home."
    "S'pose so," Will said as Chester slowly pulled himself to his feet and began to gather his things. Will didn't say so, but he was very relieved that Chester had decided to call it a day. They were both dog tired after the intensive digging and tipping, to the point that he could see Chester was a little unsteady on his feet from fatigue.
    "Same time tomorrow, then," Will said quietly, flexing his fingers and then stretching one shoulder in an effort to reduce the stiffness.
    "Yeah," Chester croaked in reply, without even looking at Will as he shuffled out of the cellar by the back door.

    * * * * *

    They went through this same ritual every evening after school. Will would very carefully open the garden door, without making a sound, to let Chester in. They would get changed and immediately begin working for two or three hours at a stretch. The excavation was particularly slow and tortuous, not only because of the limited space in the tunnel and the fact that they couldn't let anyone above hear them, but because they could tip the excavated material onto the Common only under cover of nightfall. At the end of every evening, after Chester had gone home, Will made sure that the shelf unit was pushed