The Time Travelling Adventures of Stanley Holmes

The Time Travelling Adventures of Stanley Holmes

Chapter One

It all started when the boy fell from the sky.

He said he fell out of the oak tree, the enormous one on the green by my house, and okay, he did have leaves stuck in his hair, but he could’ve dropped right from the sky for all I knew. I didn’t actually see it happen, or even hear it — I had my head down studying the ground and listening for beeps through my headphones when suddenly he was on the ground, my metal detector about to hit him. 

“Were you spying on me?” I asked, as he scrambled to his feet and brushed himself down.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy pulled a twig out of his messy blond hair. “I’m Billy. Billy Sharp. I’m moving in over there.” He pointed across the grass where a large van was parked outside the house next door to mine. 

“Oh,” I said.

“What are you doing?” Billy grinned at me, a proper big grin showing dazzling white teeth. “And have you got a name?”

“Um, yeah. It’s Stanley. My name.” I shifted from one foot to the other, my metal detector banging against the side of my leg.

“What is that?”

“Um, it’s a metal detector.”

“Cool. Are you looking for treasure? Can I have a go?”

No one had ever asked me about my metal detector before, so I wasn’t sure if Billy was making fun of me or not. Would he run off with it if I let him use it?

“I’ll be careful.” Billy smiled again, and I thought he was probably one of those people who did that a lot. Like Grandad. “It looks like it’s really important to you.”

Glancing down, I realised I was gripping the handle so tightly my knuckles were white.

“It was my grandad’s,” I muttered. “We used to go detecting together. He’s not dead, but he doesn’t always remember me.”

Billy nodded as if he understood.

I wanted to trust him. Something about him made me feel comfortable, like I’d known him for ages, so I handed it over.

“Thanks. How does it work?”

I showed him how to hold it and how to switch it on. Then I watched as Billy ambled up and down, swinging his arm from side to side. The detector started beeping when he went around the side of the oak tree and he whooped.

“What is it?” He looked at me. “What’ve we found?”

I liked the way he said ‘we’ and not ‘I.’

I bent down and scraped the ground with my fingers, then stood and held out my hand to show him the coins I’d picked up.

 “Cool!” Billy’s eyes lit up as he took half the coins from my open palm. “That’s seventy-two pence each. Do you always find money here?”

I shrugged. “Quite often on a Saturday morning.”

Billy frowned.

“It’s the morning after Mr Stevens staggers across the green on his way home from the pub. I think he must fall over and the coins roll out of his pocket. He fell asleep under the tree once and Mrs Stevens shouted so loud, she woke the whole street.”

“Ha! That’s brilliant! Your own money tree.” Billy handed my detector back to me. “Can we do it again next Saturday? Or maybe tomorrow? I bet he goes to the pub on a Saturday night too.”

I nodded, amazed he wanted to hang out with me again.

“Alright, Sherlock!” boomed a voice behind us.

I groaned and spun around. Rupert Bogglington-Brown was striding across the green clutching a shiny metal detector in one hand and waving at me with the other. He’s only small but he’s got a really big voice.

“Who’s your friend?” said Rupert.

Billy raised his eyebrows at me.

“Billy, this is Rupert. Rupert, Billy.”

Billy smiled at Rupert. “Why did you call him Sherlock? His name’s Stanley.”

“Yeah, I know. Stanley Holmes. Get it? Sherlock Holmes. The detective?”

Billy raised his eyebrows again. “O-kay, if you say so.”

Rupert’s face flushed bright red and he seemed to deflate. “Whatever,” he muttered.

“So, do you like metal detecting too?” Billy nodded at the detector in Rupert’s hand.

Rupert straightened up and puffed out his chest. “’Course. I’m known as the best detectorist in the MDC and this is a Bounty Hunter 360.” He held up his detector. “Latest model. My dad got it for me last week.”

“MDC?” asked Billy.

“Metal Detecting Club.” It was my turn to go bright red. Would Billy think I was a loser for being in a club?

“Cool,” said Billy. “Can anyone join?”

“Well, you know, there’s certain standards.” Rupert puffed out his chest again and stood on his tiptoes. He did that a lot; always trying to make himself bigger than he is. “Not everyone can be a detectorist. Do you even have a metal detector?”

“No,” said Billy. “I’m sharing with my mate, Stanley.”

I glowed inside. Mate. He called me his mate.

“Well, whatever.” Rupert shrugged. “Join the club if you want, but you’ve no chance of winning top prize with that old thing.”

My heart sank. He was right. Rupert always won. He had the best metal detector on the market and his dad worked at the history museum in Liverpool. He helped Rupert research the best sites around the country for detecting, so Rupert always managed to find something better than anyone else. I was stuck here in Fordington with Grandad’s clunky, old detector.

Billy turned to me. “Top prize in what?” 

“Fordington MDC’s annual metal detecting competition. Top prize is usually £100.” I’d love to win, and not just for the prize money. I wanted to make Grandad proud.

“I think Stanley’s going to win this year,” said Billy.

My head shot up. “What?”

Rupert clutched his sides laughing.

“I said you’re going to win.”  Billy beamed at me.

Rupert started walking away. “Not in a million years.”