Losing the Plot (7 page)

The Fleece regulars seemed to know all about Ned’s private chats. No-one even glanced up as the kids were bundled out into the yard.

It was pitch black, and the rain was hammering down again. All you could hear was rain and the river lapping invisibly nearby.

I was worried obviously, but not too worried. I was waiting for Nick to do his stuff, to turn the whole thing to his advantage, like he always did.

Only this time, he didn’t.

It was like his rich boy’s confidence had suddenly deserted him. I’ve got this theory that he couldn’t swim, because he started pleading with the men not to throw him in the river. He actually flung himself on his knees, whimpering like a little kid.

But the crooks calmly and quietly removed Nick’s expensive shirt and doublet, saying he wouldn’t need them where he was going.

Don’t think we were hanging around like shiny Christmas decorations, while all this was going on. We were beaming vibes like crazy.

But absolutely nothing happened; unless you count Rufus getting the torch to light finally. Now that they could see where they were going, the crooks began to hustle their captives across the courtyard towards the river.

They’re going to die
, I thought.
Omigosh, they’re really going to die!

And I completely freaked out.

“DO something, you idiot!” I screamed. “You’re going to
drown
!” And I actually whacked poor Chance between the shoulder blades.

WHOOSH! A jolt of angel electricity sizzled down my fingers.

Chance jumped as if he’d been zapped with a cattle prod.

Lola was horrified. “Melanie!
Wake
them, we said, not shock the sassafras out of them!”

“I was upset,” I wailed.

“Shush,” hissed Reuben. “Something’s happening!”

It’s hard to describe how Chance changed. It was something in his eyes. Suddenly, they looked like angel eyes. This was Chance, but not as we knew him. It was Chance minus his fog. And he was not about to let anyone die.

“Murder us if you must,” he said calmly. “But spare my lady, for she is not of woman born.”

Big Ned stopped dead. “What say you, boy?”

“Her human attendants are easily replaced,” Chance explained. “But if you harm my lady, her people may deal harshly with you.”

“Her
people
? You mean the Good Folk?” The Irishman almost whispered the words. He glared at Ned. “You swore she was a blackamoor.”

Chance gave a chilling chuckle. “Are you blind? Have you not seen her eyes? They are as green as willows in spring.”

The con-man thrust the torch towards Cat. What he saw made his hand shake. “Elf fire!” he hissed.

There was an electrically tense silence while Cat did her best to look cold and heartless, as befitted an elf king’s daughter.

“See how she looks at you?” said Chance. “Would a mere mortal look at her captors so brazenly? But hush! We should not talk of such things in the dark, only…”

“Only what?” barked Big Ned, sounding panic-stricken.

“Only, if my lady should let down her hair, run for your lives.”

“What will happen?” whispered Rufus, completely under Chance’s spell.

“Her father will appear in the guise of…” Chance let his voice tail off.

“Tell us, boy!” Ned pleaded. “In what shape will he appear?”

Cat had figured out what Chance was up to by this time. She began to hum dreamily. And as she hummed, she slowly removed her cap, letting her fuse-wire curls fall dramatically around her shoulders.

Rufus’s eyes bulged. “She’s calling him!” he hissed.

But it was really Reuben who saved the day. Just as I twigged that Cat was humming Sackerson’s waltz, our brilliant buddy called out in that skin-pricklingly lovely angel language.

Only this time it didn’t sound like a lullaby. It sounded like a war-cry.

Sackerson’s sleep was already disturbed by the tune which tortured his daylight hours. Reuben’s summons did the rest. With a great roar, the bear rose up out of the darkness.

Dropping the torch, the crooks fled, howling with terror.

A micro-second later, the bear ran out of chain and sat down heavily, scratching its bottom.

Cat was delirious. “Chance! It is you who have elfin blood, enchanting them with that wild tale!”

He hugged her. “What about
you
? You remembered its tune!”

“It just floated into my head,” she said excitedly. “That poor beast did the rest.”

Nick just stood watching, kind of flaring his nostrils and trying to look superior. Not easy to pull off, when you’re shirtless and shivering in the rain.

Without a word, Chance whipped off his battered doublet and held it out to Nick.

Nick pulled a face. “Ugh, it smells of sweat and onions.”

Cat totally exploded. “How dare you be so high and mighty, Nick Ducket?” she yelled. “If it wasn’t for Chance, we might all have died!”

She was practically in tears.

“Well, I have learned my lesson,” she went on more quietly. “And I pray you have learned yours. For I fear this reckless life will be the death of you.”

Nick studied his boots for a second. Then he gave her one of his winning smiles. Not his usual five-star variety, but a smile nonetheless.

“Everything you say is true,” he said, to my surprise. “And I promise I will turn over a new leaf. I had been thinking of going up to Oxford, which would make my father very happy. And maybe one day I will write plays. Yes,” Nick said dreamily. “I think I would enjoy that.”

Chance beamed. “If I take that job at the playhouse, maybe I can act in them!”

But Nick didn’t answer him and there was an uneasy silence.

He’s ashamed
, I thought. If it wasn’t for Chance, Nick would be floating in the river, and he knew it.

Chance was staring wistfully at his best mate, desperate to get things back on their old easy footing.

All at once he started doing a silly walk, imitating the fool at the Lion. He did it brilliantly and it worked like a charm. In no time, Nick was roaring with laughter. But I had to turn away. Ten minutes ago, Chance’s eyes had blazed with cosmic intelligence. Now he was Nick’s fool again. It was like watching Sackerson trying to waltz.

Still laughing, Nick draped his arms round his friends’ shoulders. “Let us swear to be friends for ever! For you are the most faithful friends anyone ever had.”

Cat laughed. “We swear!”

Nick snatched up the torch and they walked off, with Chance capering beside them, shouting, “We swear, we swear, oh great master!”

I started to follow them but Lola said softly, “It’s over, Mel. It’s time to go back.”

I felt a funny ache in my chest. “Are you sure?”

Nick’s laughing voice floated back. “What about this for a stage direction, Chance? ‘Exit: pursued by a bear’!”

And at that moment, as if someone had turned off a tap, the rain stopped and a big silvery moon came from behind the clouds. The scene had Happy Ending written all over it. Everyone was happy except me. But I totally didn’t know why.

Reuben took my hand. “Ready?”

I stiffened. I’d heard the tiniest movement in the dark. “Did you hear that?”

“Rats,” shuddered Lola. “Come on. Let’s get back to civilization! ‘Bye, Sackerson,” she called. “We won’t forget you.”

The bear closed his eyes as the beam of heavenly light strobed down.

And with a whoosh of cosmic energy, we went zooming home.

Chapter Seven

O
n the way back, Reuben kept closing his eyes as if he felt dizzy. When I asked if he was OK, he snapped, “Why shouldn’t I be?”

I know now that I should have checked it out, but I had worries of my own. I had a bad feeling we hadn’t found Michael’s glitch after all. And lurking beneath that worry was a worse fear. I was scared our humans might be in danger.

I tried telling Lola, but she didn’t want to know.

“Could you drop it, Mel?” she pleaded. “I want to get home, have a couple of hours’ sleep, then grab my dancing shoes! Hey, I can’t wait to go to that new place, The Babylon Cafe.”

When Lollie starts babbling, like a girl who’s had too many mochaccinos, it’s her way of saying, “I’m freaking out inside, but I can’t talk about it yet, OK?”

So it was a big relief when the door slid open and rays of lovely celestial light flooded in.

“I can’t wait to tell Michael,” Lola bubbled. Then her face crumpled with dismay.

Our welcome party consisted of one person, Al, the maintenance guy.

“Mike’s sorry, but something came up,” he mumbled shyly.

Lola stared around the deserted Arrivals area in bewilderment. “But Michael always comes to meet us!”

I didn’t feel too cheerful myself. I always look forward to that moment when I see Michael hurrying towards us, like he can’t wait to hear every detail of our trip. Him not being there made everything feel unreal. As if part of me was still out there, adrift in time.

Al shrugged. “Mike was archangel on call, so what can you do?” He gave a bashful glance in my direction. “You’ll never guess where he’s gone.” (Al and I have this little running joke.)

“Don’t tell me,” I sighed. “He had to bale out my century again.”

Al faked amazement. “Incredible! How’d you know?”

I grinned. “Just a wild hunch!”

“Is it me, or was Al acting strange just now?” Reuben asked in his new tired voice, as we headed home in the limo.

Lola gave him her party-girl smile. “It’s you, Sweetpea. He was trying to make up for Michael not being there, that’s all.”

I didn’t have the energy to talk, so I just gazed out of the limo, watching familiar landmarks flow past.

Suddenly Reuben tapped on the glass between us and the driver. “Can you drop me off at the dojo?”

Lola looked astonished. “Are you sure? You look like you need some rest.”

“Pure angels don’t need to rest,” he said huffily. “A complete work-out, that’s all I need.”

I didn’t think Reuben looked up to a martial arts work-out either. But you can’t tell boys anything, so we promised to meet him at Guru next morning. Guru is our favourite hang-out and serves the best breakfasts in the universe.

“My treat,” I reminded him. “I’ve got ID now, remember.”

On the way back to our dorm, I caught sight of myself in the driver’s mirror and hastily fluffed out my hair. Then I began to brush down my jacket.
You are such a muck-magnet
, Mel, I scolded myself.
Where did all these hairs come from?

I examined one closely and felt a pang. A few of Sackerson’s bear hairs had hitched a ride back to Heaven. And I had that weird floaty feeling again, as if I’d left an important part of me behind.

Several hours later I still couldn’t sleep. Without knowing how I got there, I found myself over by the window, gazing out over the twinkling lights of the city.

Heavenly architects are something else. Even super-modern buildings are awesome here -glittering hi-tech domes and soaring skyscrapers.

“Aren’t you thrilled to be back in this beautiful city, Mel?” I said aloud. “You can go back to doing all that fun stuff with your mates.”

But I couldn’t seem to remember what that stuff was. I could only think of all those long nights down at Angel Watch. Which set me off thinking about my mum and my little sister, Jade. If only I could let them know how much I loved them…

Then it hit me. “Oh, you little devil!” I scolded myself. “That’s why you took all those night shifts! You were hoping the Beeby family would flash up on your screen one night!”

Under normal conditions, I’d be shocked at myself. But part of me was still floating in Time, and all of me was exhausted, and absolutely nothing felt real.

Go to bed, Mel
, I told myself.
In the morning things will look better
.

And I lay down on my economy-sized bed and killed the lights.

You couldn’t call it a dream, exactly. It was more like a movie trailer. Three Elizabethan teenagers ran through the rain, laughing and joking. There were gold sparkles dancing in the air, all mixed up with the rain and the night, and I heard myself saying, “Aren’t fifty-fifty set-ups the dangerous kind?”

Then the trailer cut out and a new one started, almost identical to the first, only for some reason there weren’t nearly so many sparkles, and the streets seemed darker and way more menacing.

I don’t know how many times I had to watch that scene. And each time it got darker and more nightmarish. Even the rain was nightmarish, thundering down overflows, flooding into rain barrels and puddles, crashing and sloshing. Suddenly I couldn’t take any more. I sat up gasping for breath, my heart pounding.

Someone was tapping on my door. “It’s me, Reuben.”

I jumped up and let him in.

He was still in his baggy martial-arts gear, looking worryingly pale around the edges. “I know it’s late.” He half-fell into my armchair, then winced and prised a leather boot out from under his behind.

“I hate to say this,” he said in his new, tired voice, “but I have a bad feeling we lost the plot back there.”

“Me too,” I admitted. I told him about my horror-movie dream trailers.