Phil Rickman - The Lamp of the Wicked

‘And is that, erm, good for discipline?’

Fergus tossed his stallion head. ‘Surprisingly so. After a while you find that most of the actual disciplining of antisocial elements is handled by their peers. They’re inclined to take a harder line with disruptive behaviour than the staff ever would. Disruptive behaviour being anything that gets between them and what they’re trying to achieve.’

‘You mean between them and having fun.’

‘Well, sure, having fun is how they see it at first. But by the time they get to nine or ten, it’s serious. I mean, we’re not regarded as teachers, we’re advisers… enablers. They want to know something, we’re here to help them. It’s simply a question of awakening that desire to learn, and that usually happens before they start school. If we put a computer into every home as soon as a child can walk, then another child, a bit older, shows the youngster how to operate it. And by the time they’re four, they can’t wait to get here to meet the people they’ve already seen on screen.’

‘Blimey,’ Merrily said. ‘How do you afford it?’

‘Chris – Chris Cody? – he’s been very good, starting us off. Which, of course, is paying off for him now, in orders from all over the country. Word of mouth so far, and I’ve got a book on the Underhowle experience coming out next year so it’s likely to rocket. I’ve also been on the scrounge. Part of a school- director’s job, nowadays, is to go out and involve the local community, and then the wider community… and also discover where the grants are.’

‘It all sounds… Utopian.’ And it did. The school at Ledwardine had just quietly closed because it was too small to survive. There hadn’t been much resistance; Ledwardine had an ageing population, and it was starting to show.

‘Look,’ Fergus said, ‘there are problems, of course there are. We’ve got a hell of a social mix here, from families where a book’s something you use to balance the table legs to the offspring of downshifting high-flyers who came here for the air quality. Sometimes I’m beating my head against a wall and saying, “Why the hell did I start all this?” But I have to tell you there are far, far more of those fist-in-the-air moments.’

His face burned with fervour. It was difficult, in here, not to feel the heat of progress, a community on the turn. Merrily wondered why she hadn’t read about this anywhere – possibly because Underhowle was on the extreme fringe of the circulation areas of most of the local papers, the Hereford Times , the Ross Gazette, The Forester . The way it was moving, it would soon be national press and TV.

‘Occasionally,’ Fergus said, ‘we’ll get some sniffy education officer coming over from Hereford, trying to put a wire in the cogs. If you’ve managed it without them, they hate you. But we’ve reached the stage where we don’t need those pygmies. Five years ago, they were ready to close the school down through lack of numbers. Now, if they tried to mess with us, we could go it alone, and they know it. Look there.’ Fergus pointed at a tray full of letters held down by a classical statuette on a plinth. ‘I actually get applications now from people in the cities prepared to move here just to get their kids into this school. I could probably fill it twice over… but I don’t want people like that. I want a proportion of those kids whose own parents can barely read. I want the mix .’

‘Except in the graveyard?’ Merrily said. It just slipped out.

A pause, Fergus frowning.

Then he grinned. ‘OK.’ He stood up, went over to his desk and switched on the red Cody computer. ‘Take a look at this.’ There was a tap on the door. ‘Yes, come in.’

It was the kid, Barney, with a tray of coffee things, and two men. Shouldn’t Barney be in class? Maybe the class system had become outdated here.

‘Perfectly timed,’ Fergus said. As if they hadn’t met before, he introduced Merrily to Chris Cody, the dark, shaven-headed twenty-something who’d made coffee for them at the village hall. Then he presented a bulky, cheerful-looking older man in a baggy cream suit. ‘And this is Piers – the scholar and gentleman who gave us this .’

They all turned to look at the computer which, Merrily noticed, had booted up in less than half the time it took hers and Jane’s. Kids liked instant . Fergus zapped an icon. A blue sky shimmered. A word formed out of white cloud, hardening up slowly.

ARICONIUM

The screen began to cloud again, around the word. ‘You heard about this, Merrily?’ Fergus asked, and she had the sensation of being drawn into the screen and what it represented, absorbed into this all-pervading enthusiasm.

‘Heard a bit about it. It’s a Roman town originally thought to be further down the valley, but new finds apparently have indicated it was actually… here?’

‘Bugger-all to see on the ground, unfortunately,’ Piers said, ‘although we think an excavation would be illuminating – and one day, not too far in the future, we’re going to have the money for it. Might persuade the Channel Four Time Team lot to start us off – that’s how we usually work… or Fergus does.’

‘The point about Ariconium,’ Fergus said, ‘is that it was as wealthy and successful – as unified – as this area’s ever been.’

On the screen a picture of Underhowle village had faded up – an overview, seen, presumably, from Howle Hill, with most of the pylons below the eye-line. There was a dull sky, duller than today’s, but it began slowly to lighten and the random scree of Underhowle’s architecture faded into a regular pattern of simpler buildings of stone and wood and a straight road along the valley.

Merrily said, ‘This is a vision of the future?’

‘You’ve got it, m’dear.’ Piers nodded, beaming. He had a football head, a loose-lipped smile. ‘Wealth. Growth.’

‘Out of iron in those days,’ Fergus said. ‘The Silures – the local Iron Age Celtic tribe – had it first. You can still see the sites of old iron workings and, of course, the hill forts above here and on Chase Hill above Ross, and into the Forest. Then the Romans crushed the Silures and Ariconium arose on the back of the iron industry, on the main road to Glevum – Gloucester – and Monmouth in the west.’

‘Iron was smelted here, big time,’ Piers said. ‘Big business. Plenty of work.’

Fergus levelled a forefinger at the screen. ‘I want the next generation to identify with that . Not with twentieth-century decay.’

We’re building this Website to chronicle the project,’ Chris Cody said in his quiet cockney accent. ‘And the school’s actively involved, along wiv the Development Committee’ – he bowed his head to the other two men – ‘in creating a visitor centre in the old Baptist chapel. There’ll be displays of the latest finds, plus reconstructions, models, computer enhancements.’

A menu had appeared. Fergus clicked on finds , and the screen filled up with a section of what looked like mosaic floor.

‘We’re expecting confirmation of a Lottery grant any day now. And then we’ll make a start. Building a tourist industry for the first time. New life, new blood, more jobs. There’s a fantastic surge of energy going through this place which you must have been able to feel.’

It certainly looked as if it was flowing through Fergus. He hit the mouse with the heel of a hand, bringing up shards of pottery, some coins, then turned to Merrily on the sofa. All three of them standing over her now, defying her to deny the energy.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I can see what you’re trying to do. It’s… exciting.’