Monday morning. Half-term. Week one.
For most children, this meant sleeping until an unreasonable hour, eating breakfast in front of the television and beginning the holidays with the sort of unstructured freedom that parents had once described as magical before discovering that it involved answering the question “What can I do now?” approximately every four minutes.
For Mrs Brand, it meant attempting to work from home while two sons occupied the house with the subtlety of a travelling circus.
For Mr Brand, it meant discovering that the family had somehow accumulated seventeen separate items of luggage for a one-week holiday, despite the fact that they had not yet packed the sun cream.
And for Alfie and Barry Brand, it meant Scouts Day.
Their school was one of the smaller minority of primary schools that had two weeks off for October half-term. This had sounded adorable when the dates had first been announced. Two whole weeks! Family time! Autumn adventures! A chance to recharge!
It had sounded considerably less adorable when the parents realised they were responsible for entertaining their own children for ten working days.
Mrs Brand had therefore signed Alfie and Barry up for a Scouts activity day at school, which promised outdoor challenges, teamwork, problem-solving and, according to the promotional email, “an exciting opportunity to develop independence”.
The email had not mentioned mud.
Or shouting.
Or the possibility that a four-year-old might attempt to appoint himself Chief Executive of a rope.
But then, promotional emails rarely did.
Marmaduke, Barry’s best friend in the world, was already in Barbados with his mum, Marjory, meeting his family and, especially, the relatives of his late dad, Mark. Barry had spoken to him on FaceTime and seen the sunshine, the palm trees and the turquoise sea. Marmaduke had promised to save some adventures for when the Brands arrived the following week.
Barry was pleased for his best friend.
He was also missing him terribly.
This morning, he had decided that the next best thing to having Marmaduke beside him was having Alfie beside him.
Unfortunately, Alfie was eight.
Alfie had opinions.
Alfie liked rules.
Alfie believed that any task involving more than one person should have a plan, a sequence of actions, a sensible allocation of responsibilities and, ideally, a written record.
Barry believed that a plan was something you invented while running towards the thing you were supposed to be doing.
These philosophies had never been entirely compatible.
“Barry,” Alfie said as they walked into school, “please don’t touch anything until the instructor has explained what we’re doing.”
Barry immediately touched a traffic cone.
“Barry.”
“It’s only a cone.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“The point is that you should listen.”
“I am listening.”
“You’re touching a cone.”
“I can do two things.”
Alfie looked at his brother.
Mrs Brand, who had brought them in before returning to her laptop, gave both boys a kiss.
“Have a lovely day. Be kind to each other.”
“We will,” said Alfie.
“Definitely,” said Barry.
They looked at each other.
Neither sounded particularly convincing.
Mrs Brand departed with the brisk walk of a woman who had just remembered an important meeting and was hoping the school gates would close behind her before anyone could ask her to volunteer for anything.
The Scouts instructor, Mr Lewis, gathered the children on the playground.
“Good morning, everyone! Today is all about teamwork. You’ll be working in small groups to solve challenges, earn points and collect badges. The group with the highest score at the end of the day will win a special teamwork prize.”
Alfie’s head lifted.
A prize.
A measurable outcome.
A competition with rules.
His entire personality straightened.
Barry’s head lifted too.
“A prize?”
“Yes,” said Mr Lewis.
“What is it?”
“You’ll find out at the end.”
“Is it chocolate?”
“We’ll see.”
“Is it a dinosaur?”
“We’ll see.”
“Is it a chocolate dinosaur?”
Mr Lewis smiled.
“Let’s concentrate on the teamwork first.”
Barry looked disappointed. Apparently, adults were determined to delay all the interesting information until the very end of everything.
The children were divided into groups. By what Alfie considered an administrative oversight of historic proportions, he and Barry were put in the same team.
Their team was called the Foxes.
Alfie immediately suggested that they elect a team leader.
“I should do it,” he said. “I’m the oldest, and I’ve done this kind of thing before.”
“I’m the fastest,” said Barry.
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“It is if we’re running.”
“We won’t be running all day.”
“Then why am I wearing trainers?”
Alfie opened his mouth.
Mr Lewis blew a whistle.
“Foxes! Your first challenge!”
Alfie turned to his brother.
“Right. Listen to me.”
Barry ran off.
“BARRY!”
The day was off to an excellent start.
The first challenge involved building a shelter using tarpaulin, rope, a handful of wooden poles and several pegs.
The children had to work together to make something that would remain standing when Mr Lewis tested it with a large electric fan.
Alfie examined the equipment.
“We need to make a stable frame first,” he explained. “Then we can attach the tarpaulin.”
Barry picked up a pole.
“I’ll make a dinosaur.”
“We’re building a shelter.”
“A dinosaur shelter.”
“We don’t need a dinosaur shelter.”
“What if it rains?”
“Dinosaurs are extinct.”
“Exactly. They can’t build their own shelters.”
Alfie stared at him.
“Put the pole down.”
Barry put it down.
Then he picked up a different pole.
Alfie took a deep breath, the kind of deep breath usually associated with adults trying not to say something that would require a subsequent apology.
“Barry, please just do what I ask.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not the boss of me.”
“I’m trying to help!”
“You’re trying to boss me!”
Mr Lewis appeared beside them.
“Everything all right, Foxes?”
“Barry isn’t following the plan,” said Alfie.
“Alfie won’t let me have any ideas,” said Barry.
Mr Lewis looked at the poles, the tarpaulin and the two boys.
“Perhaps,” he suggested, “you could each contribute one idea.”
Alfie reluctantly agreed.
Barry’s idea was to use the poles to create a tall, triangular shelter with a wide entrance.
Alfie’s idea was to make sure the structure had enough support to stand up.
To everyone’s surprise, the two ideas fitted together rather well.
They worked together, with Alfie directing the knots and Barry holding the poles steady. When one side slipped, Barry spotted that the peg had come loose before Alfie did.
“Quick!” Barry shouted. “It’s falling!”
Alfie caught the pole.
Barry pushed the peg back into the ground.
Together, they secured the shelter.
Mr Lewis turned on the fan.
The tarpaulin flapped.
The shelter shuddered.
One corner lifted.
But the structure held.
“Excellent!” said Mr Lewis. “That’s teamwork. One point for the Foxes.”
Alfie looked at Barry.
Barry looked at Alfie.
For a brief, beautiful moment, they were united by the knowledge that they had achieved something.
Then Barry said, “My dinosaur shelter is the best.”
Alfie sighed.
And peace was restored to its usual fragile state.
The next challenge was a treasure hunt.
Each team received a map and a list of objects to find around the school grounds. The clues involved directions, simple codes and observations about the environment.
Alfie took the map.
“I’ll read the clues.”
“Why?”
“Because I can read them accurately.”
“I can read.”
“You can read some things.”
“I can read BIG RED COMBINE HARVESTER.”
“That isn’t a map.”
“It could be.”
Alfie began reading the first clue.
“Walk north from the oak tree, then find the object hidden near the—”
Barry bolted towards the nearest tree.
“Barry! That’s not the oak tree!”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s a birch!”
Barry stopped and looked at the tree.
“It looks like a tree.”
“Yes. That’s generally how trees work.”
Alfie caught up with him.
“We need to work together. I’ll read the clues, and you can look for the objects.”
Barry considered this arrangement.
“Can I look for dinosaurs too?”
“No.”
“What about dinosaur bones?”
“No.”
“What about a dinosaur that has become a bone?”
“Barry!”
“All right!”
They started again.
This time, Alfie read the clue while Barry searched the ground. They found a wooden marker beside a tree, decoded a simple message and located a small red flag behind a bench.
Barry was particularly good at spotting things hidden low down. Alfie was particularly good at understanding where the clues would lead.
When they reached the final clue, it read:
I have a face but no eyes. I have hands but no fingers. Find me where people gather.
“Clock,” said Alfie immediately.
Barry looked around.
“Where?”
“Near the hall.”
They hurried towards it.
Halfway there, Barry stopped.
“Alfie!”
“What?”
“People gather at the clock!”
“Yes!”
“Because they want to know the time!”
“Yes, Barry!”
“That’s funny!”
“Please run!”
They reached the clock, found the final marker and returned to Mr Lewis.
The Foxes had finished second.
Alfie was pleased.
Barry was pleased.
They were even more pleased when Mr Lewis awarded them a bonus point for cooperation.
“We did it together!” Barry announced.
Alfie nodded.
“Yes. We did.”
Then Barry added, “Even though Alfie was bossy.”
Alfie’s smile disappeared.
“And Barry ran in the wrong direction.”
Mr Lewis sighed.
There were still several hours left.
After lunch came the most difficult challenge of the day.
Mr Lewis placed a collection of wooden planks, ropes and sturdy crates in the centre of the playground.
“Your task,” he explained, “is to get every member of your team from this side of the marked area to the other without touching the ground inside the boundary. You can use the equipment provided, but you must work together. If anyone touches the ground, the team has to start again.”
Alfie studied the equipment.
“We need to make stepping platforms.”
Barry looked at the crates.
“We could make a train.”
“No.”
“A dinosaur train.”
“No.”
“A train for dinosaurs who don’t like walking.”
“Barry, please.”
Barry folded his arms.
“You always say no.”
“Because you keep suggesting things that won’t work!”
“Maybe they would work if you tried them!”
Alfie went red.
Barry went red too.
For several seconds, they glared at each other with the intense concentration usually reserved for international peace negotiations and siblings arguing over the last biscuit.
Mr Lewis approached.
“What’s the problem?”
“Barry won’t listen,” said Alfie.
“Alfie won’t let me help,” said Barry.
Mr Lewis nodded slowly.
“Let me ask you something. Who is going to win the prize if the Foxes succeed?”
“We are,” said Alfie.
“And who will win it if you spend the whole challenge arguing?”
“Someone else,” Alfie admitted.
“Exactly. You don’t have to agree about everything. You do have to find a way to use everyone’s strengths.”
Mr Lewis walked away.
Alfie stared at the equipment.
Barry stared at Alfie.
Then Barry said, “I could hold the crates while you put the planks on.”
Alfie looked up.
“Yes.”
“And I could go first because I’m smaller.”
“Yes.”
“And you could tell me where to put my feet.”
Alfie considered this.
“That might actually work.”
Barry grinned.
“See? My ideas are good.”
“Some of them.”
“Most of them.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
They began.
Alfie worked out how to arrange the planks so that the team could move forward safely. Barry held the crates steady while the others climbed aboard. When one of the younger children became frightened, Barry reached out his hand.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll help you.”
The child took his hand and stepped across.
Alfie watched, momentarily surprised.
Barry could be impulsive, noisy and occasionally convinced that all problems could be solved by introducing a dinosaur. But he was also brave when someone else needed help.
Alfie shifted the next plank into place.
“Barry, move the crate a little to your left.”
Barry did.
“Your other left.”
“I only have two!”
Alfie laughed.
It was a proper laugh, the sort he hadn’t realised he’d been holding back all morning.
Barry laughed too.
They worked their way across the marked area, moving the equipment, helping the younger children and checking that everyone was safe. When one plank began to slip, Alfie caught it and Barry braced the crate beneath it.
“Hold it!” Alfie shouted.
“I’m holding it!”
“Keep holding it!”
“I AM!”
“I’m just checking!”
“CHECK QUIETER!”
Mr Lewis watched from the side, smiling.
At last, the final child stepped across the line.
The Foxes had completed the challenge without anyone touching the ground.
“Brilliant!” said Mr Lewis. “That was excellent teamwork. Two points for the Foxes!”
Barry threw his arms around Alfie.
“We did it!”
Alfie hugged him back before he had time to think about whether eight-year-old boys were supposed to hug their four-year-old brothers in public.
Then he gave Barry a firm pat on the back.
“Good work, mate.”
Barry beamed.
“You were good too.”
“I know.”
Barry pulled back.
“Alfie!”
“Sorry. I meant, you were good too.”
Barry narrowed his eyes.
“You’re still a bit bossy.”
“And you’re still a bit chaotic.”
They looked at each other.
Then they burst out laughing.
By the end of the afternoon, the Foxes had accumulated enough points to win the Scouts teamwork prize.
Mr Lewis gathered all the children together and announced the results.
“The winning team today is… the Foxes!”
Barry jumped up and down.
Alfie clapped enthusiastically.
The prize turned out to be a small teamwork trophy, a packet of biscuits to share and a certificate for each member of the team.
Barry inspected the trophy.
“It’s not a dinosaur.”
“No,” said Alfie.
“It’s not chocolate.”
“No.”
“But we won it.”
“Yes.”
Barry thought about this.
“It’s better than chocolate.”
Alfie raised an eyebrow.
“Let’s not say things we don’t mean.”
Mr Lewis handed them their certificates.
“Well done, both of you. You worked through some disagreements, listened to each other and found ways to help the whole team succeed. That’s what teamwork is about.”
Alfie looked at Barry.
Barry looked at Alfie.
They both knew exactly which disagreements Mr Lewis was talking about.
On the way home, the boys sat in the back of the car with the trophy between them.
Mrs Brand had collected them, having spent the day working through an inbox that had multiplied like particularly enthusiastic rabbits. She glanced at the trophy in the rear-view mirror.
“Did you have a good day?”
“Yes!” Barry shouted.
“It was very good,” Alfie said.
Mrs Brand smiled.
“Did you work well together?”
There was a pause.
“We argued,” said Barry.
“A lot,” added Alfie.
Mrs Brand sighed.
“Of course you did.”
“But then we worked together,” Barry explained.
“And we won,” Alfie added.
“Because we stopped arguing and used each other’s strengths,” said Barry, sounding as though he had been paying close attention to Mr Lewis.
Mrs Brand glanced at them again.
“Well, that’s a very good lesson.”
Barry leaned towards Alfie.
“Can we play dinosaurs when we get home?”
Alfie thought about it.
“Yes. But we need a proper storyline.”
Barry grinned.
“The dinosaurs are going to Scouts.”
“Fine.”
“And they have to build a shelter.”
“Fine.”
“And find treasure.”
“Fine.”
“And cross a river without touching the ground.”
Alfie paused.
“That’s actually a rather good storyline.”
Barry looked delighted.
“See? My ideas are good.”
“Some of them.”
“Most of them.”
“We’ll discuss it.”
Barry leaned back, satisfied.
For the first time in days, he was not thinking about Marmaduke being in Barbados. He still missed his best friend, of course. But the day had reminded him that he could have fun with someone else, too.
And Alfie had discovered something equally important: being the oldest did not mean he had to be in charge of everything, and being right was not much use if nobody wanted to work with you.
They had spent the morning annoying each other.
They had spent the afternoon helping each other.
And by the time they arrived home, they were closer than ever.
Mrs Brand watched them disappear into the house, already arguing cheerfully about whether a dinosaur could be a Scout leader.
She turned to Mr Brand, who had appeared in the doorway.
“Do you think they’ll remember this lesson tomorrow?”
Mr Brand considered the question.
“Absolutely.”
“Really?”
“No. But at least we’ve got a trophy.”
From the living room came a crash, followed by Barry shouting, “THE DINOSAUR SHELTER HAS FALLEN!”
Then Alfie’s voice: “I TOLD YOU NOT TO USE THE SOFA CUSHIONS!”
Mr Brand nodded.
“Teamwork,” he said. “It’s a beautiful thing.”
Mrs Brand picked up her laptop.
“And apparently, it lasts approximately six minutes.”
She returned to work.
The boys began rebuilding the shelter.
And somewhere in Barbados, Marmaduke was enjoying the sunshine, blissfully unaware that his best friend had discovered an alternative teammate.
One who was bossy, serious, and very particular about the rules.
But who, it turned out, was rather good at building dinosaur shelters.
Provided Barry didn’t touch the traffic cones.
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