Chapter 14 by Daniel Davies

We sprang up and bolted for the door. 

‘No good, it’s locked’ I said as the taxi driver rattled and twisted at the handle ‘We’re stuck’

‘That’s right’ said the tiny woman. ‘Now tell me of the diamond!’

Her voice and manner were transformed and she made an unsettling silhouette against the window.

‘I don’t know who or what you are but we’re not saying anything!’ I said.

There was a pause. A slow and ominous rattle could be heard. It took me a moment to realise it was coming from her, from the old woman’s throat. As she lunged across the room the rattle burst into a blood-curdling scream.

 ‘Enough of this!’ said the taxi driver as stepped back and shoulder barged the door with alarming force.

The old woman still screaming at our backs, we threw ourselves through the doorway. My head still spinning, I drew breath. But it wasn’t the stale air of communal corridor that greeted us but the note of a crisp clean green space, an outdoor space.

‘I know this place’ I said.

‘Mmm’ grunted the taxi driver as he dusted his clothes, still visibly shaken.

‘It’s the Pleasaunce, off Halstow Road. I went to school just down the road from here. Why are we here?’

‘The diamond must be gaining strength’ said the taxi driver wearily and then after a second ‘I don’t know about you but I could do with a cup of tea…followed by some Chinese food. I could eat bucket of chicken’s feet’.

‘You’re odd man, you know that?’ I said but the taxi driver simply only responded with a flash of a grin and a sweep of the hand, which I took to mean ‘let’s go’.

As we left the Pleasaunce, I cast a glance back. I’d always liked it there- the feeling of simultaneously being outside and safely nestled within the park. I remembered the old ping-pong tables, concrete, outdoor ones, like they have in France. I remembered the little café as it was and the view of the tiny graveyard tucked in at the bottom of the slope. It was womb-like and comforting to be here again.

After a minute or two we found ourselves down at the Woolwich Road.

‘Ahh! Wing Wah Buffet!’ said the taxi driver, pointing to the corner. ‘Perfect! But wait, what day is it?’

‘I’m not sure what year it is, to be honest’ I said

‘Not to worry. It’s just there’s no ice-cream on Sundays’

And it was true. There was the sign in the window in undeniably bold and forbidding vinyl lettering.

NO ICE CREAM ON SUNDAYS

‘Huh’

We pushed through the glass doors to a flood of hot, delicious, savoury smells. A odorous soup of curries, fried fish, steaming rice and cooked peppers.

‘Hello’ said the smart-suited man calmly walking towards us, his hand outstretched. ‘We’ve been expecting you two’.

I turned to the taxi driver. He swallowed almost imperceptibly.

‘Chicken feet!’ He hollered through the doors and into the kitchen. ‘You’ll be staying a while, might as well eat’.

Daniel Davies is a teaching assistant at Halstow School. He is also an artist and his work is here: http://gentleistheword.blogspot.com/

Chapter 13 by Jamie Walker

At that moment there was a huge explosion, and all I could see was a huge kaleidoscope with every colour of the rainbow swirling around it, and at the centre was the taxi driver's head, turning furiously like a spin-top that had just been released.

My body felt very hot, and then suddenly, as quickly as it had started, it all stopped as I fell to the ground in a heap.

'Are you OK?' asked the taxi driver

'I think so,' I replied, 'where are we?'

'We're back in 2011, where we belong, at the Oval Square back at the Greenwich Millennium Village. Let's go over to Martin's house for a cup of tea.'

I had no idea who Martin was, but I wasn't about to argue and a cup of tea sounded like a great plan. It occurred to me that the Oval Square was a funny name, as a square cannot be oval, and something that's oval cannot be square.


There were big residential buildings on three sides of the oval square, with shops occupying the ground floor level. There was a convenience store called Nisa, an estate agents called 1st Avenue, a pharmacy called The Village Pharmacy and a dry cleaners called Starshine.

We walked up to one of the residential building entrances, and the taxi driver punched in the number 334 to the shiny intercom panel. There was a slight pause, and then a man answered.

'Hello?' the man said.

'Hello, is that Martin?' asked the taxi driver.

'Yes, this is Martin, come up. I'm on the 3rd floor.'



A buzzing sound came from the door, and the taxi driver pulled it open. We walked down the corridor and waited for the lift. I noticed that there were hundreds of letter boxes in the corridor, and wondered how the postman managed to get to the letterboxes through the electric door. He must have a key, I guessed.

When we arrived on the 3rd floor, Martin was waiting for us.

'Follow me' he said, and hurried down the corridor to flat 334.



Martin was a very tall, thin man with no hair. His flat was very empty, with almost no furniture. The main room had a kitchen and a balcony, with three plastic chairs grouped in the centre.
Martin went straight to the kettle to fill it up with water from the tap. The taxi driver and I sat down on the plastic chairs and waited to be offered a cup of tea.



'So,' said Martin, 'what have you guys been up to then?'

'Well,' replied the taxi driver 'we've been to 2060 and seen some very strange things. More importantly, we have seen some very worrying things.'

'Yes,' I agreed. 'There will be a flood in 2025, and from then on the weather will behave very erratically.'

'Oh dear,' said Martin, 'that's very worrying indeed. Is that all that happened when you were in 2060?'

'We also saw an animal that was half pig and half horse that belonged to a woman who ran in the Olympics.' said the taxi driver.

'Ah!' exclaimed Martin. 'Now, what did this woman tell you? Tell me all, in great detail my friends.'

'That's it really, there isn't much more to say,' said the taxi driver, acting slightly nervously.

'What about the dia-' I started.

'Shhh!' hushed the taxi driver.

'Carry on!' boomed Martin 'Tell me more!'

'It was nothing,' I lied, 'I was just going to ask the time.'

'Tell me the truth, tell me about the diamond!' Martin screamed.



Just then something very odd happened. Martin turned from a very tall, thin man with no hair into a very short, fat, hairy woman with red eyes and blue lips.

'It's a trick!' shouted the taxi driver. 'That's not Martin! Let's get out of here!'

Jamie Walker is a local resident

Chapter 12 by Year 6 students at St Josephs School

The taxi driver looked around him and asked, “So what has happened since 2010? What happened when some of it was flooded?”

The woman sounded well-rehearsed as she narrated the story: “The Thames Barrier did not hold back the flood. The water rose over the gates. There was so much water that it came in a great wave knocking aside everything in its path. It surged onwards and upwards, when it arrived in Central London it was as high as Nelson’s Column. The water was so dirty, it was almost black, taking with it dead animals, buildings, rotten food, and goodness knows what else! Downstream, all the water meadows were deluged, Hall Place was submerged, Sutcliffe Park, Belvedere and all parts of Essex were unrecognisable.”

“So what about all the things that were planned… what about the Olympics?” I asked, aware that it was perhaps a strange question, but all the preparations had been happening when we left 2010.

“Well, I was in the Olympics actually,” she said, smiling. “I was a runner. But it didn’t go so well.. it was complicated.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was the keeper of a magic diamond.” She replied. “But when I took part in the race it fell out of my pocket. When I stopped to pick it up all the other athletes ran past me and it got kicked into the crowd. The race was won by someone else, everybody stood up, clapping and shouting and hurried out of the stadium.

“The diamond? Do you mean our diamond?” the taxi driver asked incredulously, but she simply continued with her story.

“A little girl from the crowd had taken it. I tried to get it back from her- I even chased her mother’s car- but she threw it into the River Thames and I had to swim after it. But a fish had swallowed it and I ended up having to cook it to get it out!” she smiled at the memory. “But it is difficult to keep hold of things when the river keeps flooding every few years.”

“So these floods,” I said, “why are they happening? Is it because of climate change?”

“Yes,” she replied. “The first big one was in 2025, and then there was another one in 2040. I tried to keep hold of the diamond like I was supposed to, but every time it flooded all of our possessions would get swept away. It once fell down a pothole and we had to get some archaeologists to come and look for it. But in 2040 it was knocked into an oyster shell along the Thames beach. When we found it that time King Joseph sent us a letter to congratulate us.”

“King Joseph?”

“Yes, William’s son,” she said, as if it was obvious.

As she spoke a strange animal walked past.

“What on earth is that?” asked the taxi driver with a jump.

“That is Dynamite Danger,” the woman replied. “He’s my pet- he’s half pig and half horse.” She patted him on the head as she spoke.

“Half pig..?” I began.

“Yes, he has amazing special powers and can sense danger from afar. When he senses danger he bangs his hoof on the ground. He can create an earthquake which only applies to the victim. Then with his laser eyes he burns the evil out of them. He grows bigger and more powerful each time he uses his powers. When he can’t burn the evil out of someone he eats them. He consumes the scorched plants that can’t be eaten by the humans. He used to live in caves hidden deep in the grass on the mountains. He drinks salty water, pond water, animal Red Bull, Coke, lemonade.”

The strange creature suddenly jumped and lifted his front leg. Shaking his head he stamped it into the dusty ground in front of us.

“Danger! He can sense danger!” the woman exclaimed, and looked at us with a worried expression.

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.