Chapter 11 by Richard Sudlow

“You could say that,” I replied. “It’s a while since we were here,”

“Shall I show you around?” she asked, already out of her seat and walking towards us. It seemed she had already decided.

“It’s very different from how we remember it,” said the taxi driver.

“well if it’s a few years ago, yes it must be quite different,” she replied. “There are still some old people who tell us about this ‘shopping’ that used to happen here. Now we just sustain ourselves. Of course it’s very difficult in the wet and dry seasons.”

“What do you mean? Summer and Winter?” I asked.

“You do talk in strange old language!” she laughed. “No, now we only have two seasons, the wet season where half of the land is underwater, and the dry season, when the reeds get so hot they catch fire.”

“So which are we in now?” I asked, looking around. The ground did look quite wet but I just thought it had been raining.

“This is end of the wet season,” she replied, “which is why you can’t go to the top of the Peninsula at the moment. Just like a lot of the country, it’s become a wetland, with wildlife and birds living there. So when they re-introduced the wolves and lynxes a few years ago, they started going there so they could get some birds to eat.”

“So it’s all gone, the shops, the cinema, the O2?” I asked in disbelief.

“Well of course the O2 is inaccessible because of the water,” she replied. “but the cinema is still there, they show holographic films and hire out headsets.”

“So out of everything that was here, the cinema is the only thing to survive?” I asked incredulously.

“Well nobody has that kind of equipment any more, so they have to go there for entertainment.”

“But what about the shops?” I asked. “where do people get their food from?”

She looked at me blankly. “Well of course we are self-sufficient,” she replied. “Where else would we get it from?” 

Richard Sudlow is a volunteer at the Greenwich Peninsula Ecology Park

Chapter 10 by Iris Dove

I looked towards the Ecology Park. It seemed a calm and peaceful place, I felt as if we were hidden away, miles from everywhere. I had always thought of this part of the Peninsula that way, but now it really did seem as if there were no other buildings near us. The big grey and blue skies were still all around us but I couldn’t see the Millennium Village. The water was covered in lily pads, just like in the fairy stories when there would be toads sitting on them. I could hear people walking on the shingle, so the Park must still be there in some way. I could see birds: cormorants, snipe, coots, moorhens and goldfinches. I could see people walking around moving large bags around in wheelbarrows. Some of them were wearing waders and carrying scythes, others were kneeling down on cushions, looking relaxed and talking to each other.

I could remember when you had to leave the Thames path and cross over the motorway. The O2 and the DLR looked as if they were on the other side of the river. The area felt rather isolated and windswept, I had often felt as if I was out in the wilds in this part of the Peninsula, despite the roads.

We walked through the gates of the Ecology Park and I realised how different things were. At the edge of the Park, where I was used to seeing the Millennium Village, was an open space that looked something like a village green. People were also working here- digging and tending to the plants. There were so many plants- not just in the ground but also in various containers. Looking more closely I could see that some of the containers were objects- like footballs and dolls’ heads - cut open, with herbs and leaves sprouting from the tops. I remembered that the Yacht Club used to have a nice garden, and that there were other gardens along the path that surprised you as you walked along it, but nothing on this scale.

I turned around and looked at the river. It was so much busier than it had been before, it actually looked as if it was being used properly. The fisherman who had given us a lift was standing talking to a group of other men, and next to them was a pile of different kinds of fish. Looking further down the river I could see huts, a fish market, almost a village. All along the river were sculptures made from rope, brooms and other found objects- I could remember seeing one of them there before, but now there was a whole collection. A group of seals could be seen basking on the rocks at the edge of the water.

“Let’s go and see what the rest of it is like” said the taxi driver.

We continued walking up what could just be recognised as John Harrison Way, towards what still somewhat resembled the motorway flyover. We walked around the roundabout- now covered in corn- and went towards the shopping centre.

But to my shock, the shops were no longer there. In their place were some allotments, and although I could make out parts of the buildings, they looked like ruins, with trees and bushes growing from parts of the orange signs of B&Q and Sainsbury’s. Turning around I saw a group of caravans and smoke coming from a fire- it looked as if a travelling community had taken up camp here.

Next to the caravans was a small hut, and through the open door could be seen a woman who was looking at us. “Are you strangers here?” she called out.

Iris Dove is a volunteer at the Greenwich Peninsula Ecology Park

Chapter 9 by year 5 & 6 students at Halstow School

The taxi driver squinted at Mr Smith’s hand. “Do you think we’re stupid?” he said angrily. “I told you I’m the warden of the diamond, you don’t think I would mistake that piece of plastic for the real thing do you?”

In a flash the husband and wife had sprinted away from us once more.

By this time it was nearly 1am and the concert was just finishing. Crowds of people streamed out of the doors and through a side entrance of the arena. It was easy for the couple to disappear into the throng of people. We left the O2 and were outside, nearly at the back on the north-west side of the Peninsula. A large blue building was in front of us and the couple disappeared through a shuttered doorway. “It’s the ice factory” said the taxi driver.

We followed them in and saw the pair of them standing in front of a shelf in the corner. “The perfect hiding place!” we overheard Mr Smith saying to his wife.

I looked around. The factory was full of white sparkling shapes: flowers, hearts, butterflies… all sculpted out of ice. The machinery was running and blocks of ice were being churned out of a chute. I looked again at the corner. The diamond had been hidden in amongst a pile of pieces of ice that were all around the same size as the diamond. It would be very hard to find it amongst them.

Another piece of machinery started up. What I had thought was a shelf was in fact a conveyer belt, and the pieces of ice began to be taken along it to be crushed at the end.

Mrs Smith let out a cry and jumped onto the conveyer belt, grasping and trying to find which piece was the diamond.

All three of us called out. If she continued on the belt then she would be crushed along with the ice. 

The plastic diamond went through the crusher first with a pop, but the real one stuck in the machinery and the wheels stopped with a grinding noise, just in time to save Mrs Smith. The taxi driver jumped up and grabbed it.

The pair of us ran towards the river, where the old docks used to be.

“Any idea if that magic’s going to start up again?” I asked the taxi driver. He smiled at me and just then I heard the sound of a boat starting up. We leapt aboard and it sped off, leaving Mr and Mrs Smith standing forlornly on dry land.

It was a fisherman’s boat. The man had a tattoo of a spear and an anchor on his arm but had a kindly face. I looked around the boat. It was full of tools and equipment, and looked as if the man slept inside it was well. A stuffed salmon was mounted on one of the wood panelled walls, with a plaque underneath. ‘Caught in 2015’ it said. Some of the tools were wrapped in ancient yellow newspaper. I tore off a piece of one of them. It was from 2011.

The boat stopped by the yacht club and we stepped ashore.

“What year is this?” I asked after we had thanked our driver.

“Well it’s 2060 of course” said the fisherman.

Chapter 8 by Year 5 & 6 students at Halstow School

The Millennium Dome was full of people, mostly families with children running around. Everything was brightly lit with projected images and a large sculptural figure towered over us. I wondered for a moment why people were staring at us, before I remembered we were covered in mud and dust from the tunnel. 

We walked past a row of video projections, with animated figures and brightly coloured adverts. One of the figures seemed familiar, and as I looked closer I realised it was none other than Mr Smith, staring at us from within the screen.

The taxi driver grabbed my arm. “Of course.. he’s in the O2, in 2010,” he said, before reaching out and touching the projection screen. The image wobbled and seemed to liquefy. “Come on,” he said, and we both jumped over the barrier and right into the middle of the screen.

It made a huge crash, and we landed on the other side. But instead of being amongst the toys and games of the Dome, we were on the floor outside a restaurant, covered in pieces of glass, in what was now the O2. A waiter ran out of the restaurant and beckoned to some security guards. “Over here! They just jumped through my window!”

Ten minutes later we were sitting in a drab security office; the guard had left us in there and locked the door. We were surrounded by CCTV monitors and at one point I saw Mr Smith wandering around outside Pizza Express. I’d seen him on two different screens recently, except the first time was apparently ten years ago.

The taxi driver pulled a paper clip out of his pocket and began to try and pick the lock. I glanced around the room and saw a box labelled ‘Lost and Found” with the leg of a toy sticking out. It looked similar to the bear that had the diamond in, except this one had its arm still intact.

He eventually managed to open the door but as he opened it someone rushed past us and grabbed the bear out of the box.

We followed the person, who was wearing a long coat and a hat. They ran through the doors to the main arena, where a rock concert was taking place. It must have been near the end as the security guards didn’t seem to mind us going in. It was a side door and we were right next to some huge speakers and the music was deafeningly loud. I was glad when they pushed their way through the crowd to a different exit and we were back in the main concourse.

As we passed the cinema doors I saw Mr Smith at last in front of us. “Stop them!” I shouted to him and he grabbed the bear thief by the shoulders. The hat fell off to reveal long brown hair; we had been following a woman.

“Darling, what are you doing here?” said Mr Smith, then turning to us said, “Allow me to introduce my wife.”

“I’m getting the diamond like you asked me to!” she replied.

I gave Mr Smith a puzzled look. I thought we’d discovered the diamond together in the Pilot Inn?

She took the bear by both its arms and ripped it open, its stuffing falling out onto the floor. There was nothing else inside this bear. “Where is it?” she asked desperately.

“It’s ok, I’ve got it,” Mr Smith held the stone up and we all stared at him. But there was something different, it wasn’t sparkling in the same way as before. I moved closer to him and it was then that I saw the imprint in tiny letters: MADE IN CHINA.

Chapter 7 by Year 5 & 6 students at Halstow School

As we were flying over the eastern edge of the Peninsula, I could see what looked like the old Blackwall Point power station, that had closed years ago but which now seemed to have reappeared out of the river. The tall chimney towered over the misty water, and I could just make out a tank full of liquid. There were wires hanging from every part of the building.

As we neared the power station the chimney began to belch out thick smoke. The taxi driver gasped. “That’s not supposed to be working! It’ll interrupt the magic!” It was too late for us to stop and as we flew into the smoke cloud, we plummeted to the muddy wasteland to the side of the power station. Luckily I landed on an old mattress, but the taxi driver sunk into the mud up to his waist.

“Help me out!” he cried, as he sunk another few inches.

“What happened to the magic?” I asked him. He grabbed the edge of the mattress and I tried to pull him, but it was useless; the mud was so thick I was never going to be able to get him out.

“It sometimes happens with time travel,” he said, “Industrial pollution from the past interferes with the magic powers”

I looked at him. “Really. Well that’s straightforward.” But before I could ask him to explain more, we both turned around at the sound of an engine starting. A crane that had been parked at the edge of the power station was coming towards us. The arm of the crane picked up the edge of the mattress and began to lift it out of the mud. The taxi driver held on to the plastic handle on the end and eventually we both stood, covered in mud, next to the power station.

The figure of a man stepped down from the car of the crane and lifted his arm to wave as he walked away. He was wearing a blue and orange boiler suit and a cap. “Wait! Thanks!” I called out, and he turned around to show what seemed from this distance to be a curiously skeletal face, but continued to walk back through the doors of the power station.

“Who was that?” I asked the taxi driver.

“Well… do you believe in ghosts?” he asked me, looking at me sideways.

“No, of course not!” I replied, although why I should be so sure of this while standing in a power station that I knew had been demolished years ago, I don’t know.

“Hmmm.. Interesting..” he said and simply carried on walking. However, shortly after this we stepped on a patch of rubble which gave way beneath our feet, and we fell through into a deep hole.

We pulled ourselves to our feet and I looked at him.

“So once again I’m going to ask, what happened to the magic?”

“I think it’s malfunctioned,” he said sheepishly. “Maybe it’s a virus or something. Anyway it’s ok, but we’ll have to take the long way to the O2 now I’m afraid.”

My eyes were becoming more accustomed to the dark and I could see that we were in a tunnel, something like the Woolwich Foot Tunnel but lit with very dim blue lights, and a faint yellow glimmer of more brightness up ahead. “Come on,” said the taxi driver, and led the way.

So we followed the direction of the yellow light and after about ten minutes reached some steps with a sign pointing “Millennium Dome this way”, which was strange, not only because it closed years ago, but also because it was certainly never open at the same time as the Blackwall Point Power station….

The Peninsula Papers: CHAPTER 6 by Paul Flaherty

I could hear Mr Smith “help me!” he screamed. If only I could swim, I felt incredibly useless as I watched him struggle in the water. I had to get help, I needed to rescue him. I was completely stuck for ideas, what should I do next? Due to fear, the sweat was dripping from my forehead like rain droplets down a car windscreen.

At this point in time the diamond meant nothing to me.

.....A bright purple light flashed in front of my eyes and I could see the diamond through the water twinkling like a midnight star. It was almost as if the flashes of colour were communicating with each other.

The thoughts in my head were racing around like clothes in a washing machine, if I was confused before then, I was now baffled beyond belief. I felt slightly dizzy and almost weightless, something very weird was happening.

I felt a tap on my shoulder “Hello you” the voice said. As I turned round I could see the taxi driver, he had a big warm smile on his face, he continued to speak at me with a confident tone in his voice “I thought we would be meeting again, but not in the same day or like this”.

I was frightened and slightly short of breath but I managed three simple words “Who are you?” I asked. “It’s ok, relax. I believe the question you should be asking is where are we? He said. I thought to myself, what does that mean? I needed answers as his riddle was starting to frustrate me.

The so called taxi driver continued to confuse me with his words “In less than 5 seconds you will scream” his confidence was verging on arrogance. “No I won’t! How can you be so sure?” I asked inquisitively. “It’s now time for you to look down” he said, “Arghhhhh!” he was right, I wasn’t just screaming I was absolutely petrified; we were floating in the sky, am I dead or a sleep? I was questioning my own sanity.

I could see the top of the Cinema and the supermarket, all the people in the car park looked like ants from this height. I finally asked the question that I should have started with “Where are we?”

“Well done, now you are asking the right questions” he seemed pleased, he continued to tell me more. “I am the Greenwich borough warden of the diamond, it is my job to keep it and anyone else connected to it safe. We are currently being transported inside a laser that that beams down from the Dome”.

This day was already mad so I decided to go along with what he was saying. I wanted, needed, more information “Ok, ok. I will pretend to ignore the fact that we are floating and that the diamond seems to be magic” “not seems, it is magic” he interrupted. “Yeah ok, whatever you say. So you’re not a taxi driver then?”

This seemed to amuse him as he belly laughed at my question “of course I am a taxi driver. I still need to pay my bills like anyone else. Anyway we’re nearly at the Dome. Your friend is waiting for you”.

“Which friend is that then?” I said, “Mr Smith of course, I have already transported him across, he’s drying off and he has the diamond. Both of you need to continue this journey, good luck”.

What happens next?

Chapters 4 and 5 are now online, thanks to Gormley and Ofili classes at Millennium School. If you live or work in East Greenwich or the Greenwich Peninsula you can take part in Lucy's project by writing a chapter or even just suggesting how the story should progress.

To find out more, email rohini@streamarts.org.uk