Lockdown Files — Bella in the Wych Elm
18th April, 1943.
In the spring of wartime Britain, four young boys bike to the edge of Hagley Woods. It is late afternoon, just turning dusk, the air warming as it crawls from the depths of winter. Speckled sunshine scatters the forest floor, the woods all but silent aside from the rustle of rabbits in the undergrowth.
The boys leave their bikes carefully concealed at the forest’s edge, walking single-file down a well-trodden path into the trees. They are quiet, conscious of the fact that they should not be on private property, though the allure of foraging for birds’ eggs is too strong amidst wartime rationing.
The narrow path widens into a small clearing, fringed by tall trees that block most of the sky. The afternoon light fades slowly under the creeping of evening, and the boys quicken their step, eager to begin the hunt.
One of the boys splits off from the others, drawn toward a blackened wych elm, its spidery branches encroaching upon its neighbours. The boy stands at its base for a moment, secures a foothold, and begins to climb.
He gets to about the halfway point, and he can see into the hollow of the tree. There is something inside he can’t quite make out, certainly not a birds’ egg, but his curiosity is peaked. Something white, lodged into the crevasse of the elm…
