Voices in Stone - Emily Diamand Page 0,7

irresponsible, and swore a lot. And later it didn’t matter how much I said I actually liked going UFO hunting, because by then she had her killer comeback.

“Look what happened to your friend Isis.”

“She did survive,” I said, but Mum just gave me one of her looks.

I was amazed that Dad even knew about the school trip, seeing as I hadn’t seen him since the summer. I wondered if he was cyber-stalking me – him and his UFO-freak friends are always setting up ‘search and alert’ programs.

But Mum said, “He read about it in the local paper, and he claims that proves it’s just a publicity stunt and that we shouldn’t be supporting the ‘corporate destroyers of the environment’.”

“Well they are destroying the environment,” I said.

Mum only rolled her eyes; sometimes I wonder how Dad and Mum even dated, let alone got together and had me.

“I don’t mind not going,” I said, sort of hopefully.

“It’s not about whether you mind!” snapped Mum. “It’s about your education. She signed the form with a fast jab of her pen, nearly tearing through the paper. I knew then there was no way I was getting out of the trip. Mum was probably going to escort me onto the coach herself.

Um, are you sure you need to know all this for your… therapy? I could tell you just the main things, if you want?

No, tell me in as much detail as you can remember. It’s very important that you leave nothing out, even things you think I might not believe. Especially those. You need to get things off your chest, like exactly how you caused so much devastation.

But that wasn’t our fault! They said it wasn’t.

They may say, but we both know better. You are responsible for millions of pounds worth of damage, and billions in financial loss, so every detail is important.

But I already told the police…

I am not from the police, Gray. As far as you are concerned, I am a therapist brought into school to deal with the aftermath of what you did. So you can tell me the truth. Now, look at me, that’s right, straight into my eyes… you will tell me everything, every detail.

Everything. Every detail…

Our coach shunted through the traffic in town, with the other coaches behind us. Our whole year was on the trip, so we were practically a convoy. It took a while, but eventually we were out past all the roundabouts and heading into the countryside. It isn’t far to the quarry, but the coaches went slowly because the road was so bendy. It took at least half an hour of driving, but eventually we turned down this new-looking road, heading for a pair of tall gates with a high, chain-link fence stretching off either side. We passed a sign that said UK-EARTHS: CAUTION HEAVY VEHICLES and the gates were opened by a couple of people in bright yellow jackets and safety helmets.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t very impressive. A car park and some mobile offices.

“Is this it?” Jayden said as we got off the coach. It’s what we were all thinking. You could hear a rumbling clattery noise in the distance, but that was the only sign of it being a quarry. We milled about while the teachers got us into our class groups and checked our names off lists. The staff from the quarry came out to meet us, led by a woman in a smart suit. Mr Watkins rushed over to talk to her, all smiling and hand-shaking.

Jayden nudged me.

“Community relations.”

Teachers from the other coaches joined Mr Watkins, and there was more pointing and checking of lists. Then he came bustling back to where my class was standing, followed by the smart-looking woman.

“4B,” he announced, “this is Dr Harcourt, who is the um…”

“Public Affairs Director,” she said.

Mr Watkins smiled in this sucking-up way. “Yes, Public Affairs Director of UK-Earths. She is going to guide us around the quarry today, and you’re very lucky to be the first group going onto the site.”

None of us said anything.

“Isn’t that great?”

A few people nodded. Was he expecting a cheer?

Dr Harcourt stepped past Mr Watkins and smiled at us. Not a genuine smile; like she had to, you know?

“So, class 4B…” she said, then she turned her smile at Mr Watkins. “I thought class 4F were going onto site first?”

Mr Watkins shook his head, and his bald patch went bright pink. “I’m afraid 4F are being… well, there was a