Against All Gods

by Maz Evans

  It was most peculiar. Virgo didn’t even particularly like the boy.

  She was interrupted by her hand being warmly squeezed by David Hooper.

  ‘Penny for your thoughts?’ he said.

  She smiled at this charming mortal. Dave had been especially kind to her since his return two days previously, ever since the Gods informed him of her reckless actions at the Earth’s core. It transpired that mortal parents were particularly grateful when you saved their child from certain death. She added this to the long list of surprising mortal observations she had compiled over the previous months.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Hooper, but now I am an immortal, I am unable to accept mortal money,’ she said. ‘But should you wish to pay me in gelatine-based confectionery, that will be acceptable.’

  ‘You are such a freak,’ Elliot grunted. As usual, he was unhappy about being summoned to school first thing in the morning, especially after two long nights of staying up talking to his father. Virgo couldn’t help but smile. So much had changed since her arrival on Earth. But Elliot Hooper would never be a morning mortal.

  ‘I fail to understand why our presence is required at this hearing,’ she said.

  ‘So you can give that evil bunch of blubber exactly what he deserves,’ growled Dave. ‘What he did to you kids – he’s lucky I’m not up on a murder charge.’

  Virgo noted that the two mortals seemed to have formed an exceptionally strong bond in their short time together and any mention of David leaving again appeared to cause Elliot some distress. But a smile from his father, who took Virgo’s and Elliot’s hands in his and brought them to his lips, appeared to calm the child. And, Virgo had to admit, it was a comforting sensation for her too.

  They arrived shortly at the grand gates to Brysmore Grammar School and made their way through the corridors to Call Me Graham’s office. They knocked on the door and waited for the gibbering headmaster’s feeble summons.

  But instead, the door was wrenched open by a man Virgo took a moment to recognize as Mr Sopweed. His floppy grey fringe had gone; he had a new, sharper haircut and his beloved cardigan had been swapped for a dark suit.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said confidently, giving them all a firm handshake. ‘Mr Hooper, thank you so much for bringing the children in this morning during their leave of absence.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ said Dave, looking as surprised as Elliot and Virgo.

  ‘Please, take a seat,’ said Graham, gesturing to three new office chairs in front of his desk. Virgo looked around the familiar office. There was something different about it. It was somehow . . . bigger. Neater. More purposeful. Gone were all the self-help books, the battered cushions, the embroidered pictures asking people to be nice. Instead there were inspiring slogans about being the best you can be, and being yourself (because everyone else is taken). Call Me Graham was no longer twitching and shuffling, but striding confidently around his office. Virgo couldn’t put her finger on it . . . Ah, yes! That was it. There was a total absence of hedgehogs. She silently congratulated herself on her powers of observation.

  ‘Anna, I am so sorry to hear that you will be leaving us,’ Call Me Graham began kindly. ‘You have been such a colourful presence in our midst and you’ll be sadly missed.’

  ‘Thank you . . . sir,’ Virgo replied. It didn’t seem right, somehow, to call him Graham any more.

  ‘And Elliot,’ said Mr Sopweed, looking sincerely into Elliot’s eyes, ‘I cannot tell you how relieved I was to hear you were safe and well. What you have been through is unimaginable, and I will regret for ever not supporting you better. You have my solemn promise that from now on, Brysmore Grammar School will be offering you and your family every assistance as you begin your new life with your father.’

  ‘Thank you . . . sir,’ Elliot replied. Virgo smiled. Clearly Elliot felt it too.

  ‘Now Mr Boil will arrive any minute – are you happy to proceed with him in the room with us, or would you prefer to provide your testimony in private?’

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Elliot. ‘Have him here. I want him to hear what I have to say.’

  ‘Are you sure, son?’ Dave asked, taking Elliot’s hand. ‘You don’t have to. That pig can get what he deserves without you having to look at his vile face ever again.’

  ‘It’s cool, Dad,’ said Elliot, smiling gratefully at his father. Virgo found this sight curiously satisfying. She had no idea why.

  ‘All right, then,’ nodded Mr Sopweed. ‘But if you feel uncomfortable at any time . . .’

  ‘I know,’ said Elliot calmly. ‘Thank you.’

  Mr Sopweed gave him a wink. Virgo couldn’t recall him ever winking before. Perhaps the hedgehogs prevented it somehow.

  An unusually feeble knock at the door signalled the arrival of Mr Boil. Virgo saw that Elliot looked quite serene. Unlike his father, who looked entirely capable of a second serious mortal crime.

  As ever, Mr Boil’s organic-foodstuff aroma preceded him. Mr Boil was the only mortal Virgo had encountered who made Elliot seem like an advert for excellent hygiene. That reminded her – Elliot was due his weekly shower tomorrow; she’d have to remind . . .

  Tomorrow.

  The strange twisting sensation returned as she realized she wouldn’t be there to insist on Elliot’s Friday-night shower. Tomorrow she’d be back in Elysium. Not here. With Elliot. She sniffed loudly at this happy thought.

  ‘Lance,’ said Mr Sopweed stiffly, as Boil took his place on the opposite side of the office.

  ‘Gra— Mr Sopweed,’ Boil replied quietly.

  Virgo was taken aback. Even by his shambolic standards, Mr Boil looked awful. Gone was the sneer, the defiance, the sweaty upper lip . . . No, upon closer examination, that was still there. But this wasn’t the cocky Mr Boil of old. This man was . . . sub-optimal.

  ‘I understand that you have provided Ms Givings with an account of your recent behaviour,’ Mr Sopweed continued. ‘But now I want to hear for myself how on Earth you justify keeping information about a child’s welfare from your superior?’

  Virgo awaited Mr Boil’s sneering defence. But none came.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, barely audibly.

  ‘Is that the best you’ve got?!’ shouted Dave, rising from his chair. ‘You knew that my son . . . that my wife . . .’

  ‘Dad,’ said Elliot softly, this time putting his hand on his father’s arm. ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘It is not OK,’ said Dave more calmly, returning to his seat.

  ‘You’re absolutely right, Mr Hooper,’ said Mr Sopweed, staring directly at Boil. ‘It’s far from OK. What you did was utterly reprehensible, malicious and potentially dangerous. What do you have to say for yourself?’

  Boil shrugged again.

  ‘Nothing,’ he muttered.

  ‘I see,’ said Mr Sopweed, closing his notebook. ‘Well, then, Mr Boil. You leave me no choice. Given your woeful professional conduct, I immediately terminate—’

  ‘Can I ask something?’ Elliot interrupted.

  Mr Sopweed looked slightly taken aback.

  ‘Er, yes . . . of course you can, Elliot,’ he said gently. ‘Ask anything you like.’

  Elliot rose from his chair and walked over to Mr Boil. The teacher’s bloodshot eyes remained fixed on the floor. But after Elliot had stood before him for a few moments, he lifted his head.

  ‘I just have to know,’ Elliot said. ‘Why do you hate me so much?’

  Boil paused for a moment, unable to look Elliot in the eye. Virgo was curiously hooked. This was better than the TV channel that sold dolphin anoraks all day and night.

  ‘I don’t hate you,’ Boil said eventually. ‘I just don’t always like myself very much.’

  ‘You’re not the only one,’ Dave Hooper muttered, clearly itching to pull his son out of this man’s orbit.

  Elliot stared curiously at Mr Boil. He turned his head sideways as if looking at him for the very first time. A few moments passed, then Elliot returned to his chair, taking his dad’s hand agai
n.

  ‘Is that everything, Elliot?’ Mr Sopweed asked softly.

  ‘You’re going to sack him, aren’t you?’ Elliot replied.

  ‘Mr Boil’s employment will be terminated with immediate effect,’ confirmed Mr Sopweed, shooting Mr Boil a contemptuous look. Virgo heard a soft sob escape the sweaty upper lip.

  ‘As I was saying – Lance Boil, please consider your time at Brysmore Grammar School—’

  ‘Please don’t,’ said Elliot quietly.

  Every pair of eyes in the room snapped to the boy. Virgo put her finger in her ear. Surely earwax was a thing of the past now she was immortal? But there must be some residual build-up in her ears . . .

  ‘I’m sorry, Elliot,’ said Mr Sopweed in confusion. ‘Could you say that again?’

  ‘Please don’t,’ Elliot repeated. ‘Sack him, I mean. I don’t want him to lose his job.’

  Virgo was astounded. If her understanding was correct, Elliot had just prevented Mr Boil from being fired as a teacher for good. Why in all the realms would he do that?

  But her surprise had nothing on Dave Hooper’s.

  ‘Elliot?’ he said. ‘What are you doing? This man has made your life a misery. He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness. Don’t waste it on him.’

  ‘Everyone deserves forgiveness,’ Elliot said quietly. ‘You and I both know that.’

  If there were more words in Dave Hooper’s mouth, they were suddenly unable to find the exit.

  ‘Besides, if it wasn’t for Mr Boil, we wouldn’t have got Home Farm back,’ Elliot said to Mr Sopweed. ‘I know that it’s easy to do stupid stuff when you’re unhappy. He needs support, not sacking. Will you help him, Mr Sopweed?’

  Mr Sopweed sat back in his chair and admired Elliot like a prize hedgehog.

  ‘You are a remarkable young man, Elliot Hooper,’ he said eventually. ‘And, yes. Yes, I will help Mr Boil. Because of you. Do you agree, Lance? Will you undertake the training you require to become a better teacher? A better man, perhaps?’

  Mr Boil nodded weakly. He gave Elliot a look that might one day become a ‘thank you’. Elliot returned it with something that might one day turn into ‘It’s OK.’

  Dave gave Elliot a proud hug.

  ‘Then so be it,’ said Mr Sopweed calmly. ‘Mr Hooper, we look forward to receiving Elliot back at school whenever you are both ready. In the meantime, if there’s anything you need from us, it is yours for the asking.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said David, rising and smiling at Virgo. She understood it was time to leave.

  ‘Goodbye, Anna,’ said Mr Sopweed, offering her his hand. ‘I wish you all the very best. Sincerely, you are a very special girl.’

  She was unsure quite what overtook her in that moment. But Virgo found herself throwing her arms around Mr Sopweed.

  ‘Well, that’s lovely,’ said the headmaster, patting her warmly on the back. ‘You are such a star. Whoever gets you next is very lucky to have you.’

  Virgo thought about the pencil sharpener catalogues that awaited her in Elysium and tried not to cry.

  ‘Where is he?’ Virgo asked Dave impatiently outside Brysmore. ‘I need to get everything packed before the Council collect me tomorrow . . .’

  ‘Said he needed to get something from his locker,’ said Dave, smiling at her. ‘He’ll be here in a minute. It’s probably a code for the call of nature.’

  ‘If you are referring to matters concerning the lavatory, you have no idea,’ said Virgo. ‘I’ve met injured snails that are faster than Elliot Hooper on the toilet.’

  Dave laughed.

  ‘You just wait until we have curry night next Wednesday, you won’t see him for—’

  The twisting feeling stopped Virgo’s sentence in its tracks. There wouldn’t be any more Wednesday curry nights. Or Thursday mornings waiting with crossed legs outside the lavatory. What a relief, she thought, wiping a tear of gratitude from her cheek.

  Dave Hooper smiled a mysterious smile.

  ‘He’s going to miss you terribly, you know.’

  ‘Really?’ said Virgo. It hadn’t occurred to her that Elliot had any more regard for her than the socks he regularly discarded around the house. In all the many hours and adventures they had shared, she couldn’t remember a single nice thing he had said. They were little more than casual acquaintances, who’d just happened to share a series of life-altering events near one another.

  ‘Really,’ said Dave, putting his hand lightly on her shoulder.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Elliot, running out of Brysmore with an enormous smirk.

  ‘What’s the hurry?’ laughed Dave, grabbing Virgo’s hand and starting after his son.

  ‘You’ll see,’ cried Elliot with a grin, taking off down the driveway. ‘Now, RUN!’

  Virgo and Dave did as they were told. But no sooner were they outside the gates when a furious roar arose from the school behind them.

  ‘HOOOOOOOO-PER!’

  Virgo turned to find the source of the commotion.

  But all she could see was a large pair of grey underpants flapping gloriously at the top of the school flagpole.

  She joined in with Elliot and Dave’s peals of happy laughter and felt the breeze blow through her silver hair as she ran across the field with her friends.

  26. Dave and Elliot Hooper

  It ended on a Friday, as wonderful things often do. Elliot Hooper got up at 7.30 a.m. as normal, had breakfast made by his dad at 8.15 a.m., which would now be his normal, and watched a fourth piece of toast be devoured by Virgo, who would never be normal.

  ‘I really must introduce the Council to peanut butter,’ she muttered, adding it to the long list of things she planned to take back from her experiences on Earth. Elliot peered over at the other recent entries, which included ‘pets’, ‘long division’, and, inexplicably, ‘tartan’.

  ‘You are so weird,’ he grumbled, pushing his own breakfast aside. Elliot was in an especially bad mood that morning, although he couldn’t figure out why. Despite being back in his own bed, in his own house, he’d barely slept a wink last night. Every time he tried to doze off, visions of his adventures with Virgo kept popping into his mind, starving him of sleep. Typical Virgo. Even on the last day he’d probably ever see her, she was still a pain in the butt.

  He changed his mind about his scrambled eggs and picked up his knife and fork. He’d feel better once she left. Without Virgo, life could finally return to some kind of normal. No Virgo meant no complications. Life would be so much quieter, simpler, easier. It would be much better. Without her. Definitely.

  He pushed his plate aside again. He had a weird lack of appetite today.

  The Gods knocked at the back door and Dave let them into the kitchen with a wink.

  ‘So, then!’ boomed Zeus, a little too loudly, Elliot thought. ‘All ready for the off? The Council are on their way.’

  Elliot found Virgo was staring straight at him. She dropped her toast on her plate. It seemed she too had lost her appetite. Today was strange.

  ‘Of course!’ she said finally, standing up to collect her things. She walked quietly out of the room and up the stairs. Maybe he should go after her, just to help her, or something. He saw every pair of eyes was on him.

  ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘Are you all right, sweetie?’ Aphrodite asked, coming and sitting next to him.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he said, shoving a forkful of egg into his mouth to prove just how totally fine he was. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘Mate,’ said Hermes, flitting over and landing on his other side. ‘You’re about to lose your BFF. That’s brutal, man.’

  Elliot couldn’t tell whether it was his dad’s breakfast or Hermes’s suggestion that made him choke, but, either way, the egg came spraying out of his mouth in a shower of crumbly indignation.

  ‘BFF?’ he said, when his breath had returned to his body. ‘Don’t be stupid. I hardly know her. She’s an idiot . . .’

  He tried to ignore all the adults in the room ex
changing the kind of glances that adults exchange when they’re being epically annoying.

  ‘All right, mate,’ said Hermes, patting him on the back. ‘Whatever you say.’

  ‘They’re here,’ said Athene, pulling back the curtains.

  ‘I’m ready,’ said Virgo, reappearing at the bottom of the stairs. Elliot stifled a gasp. She was dressed in the purple robes of the Zodiac Council, with her long silver hair flowing around her shoulders. She looked exactly as she did the day they met. Minus the cow poo.

  They all stood awkwardly in the kitchen. Elliot’s eyes locked with Virgo’s once more. He hoped she wasn’t going to get all sappy on him. That would be the worst.

  ‘Right, then,’ said Zeus quietly. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’

  Elliot followed the quiet procession out of the door and into the paddock, where the other Zodiac Councillors were standing in a semicircle.

  ‘Virgo,’ Pisces announced solemnly. ‘We are here to officially welcome you back to your place on the Council and escort you to Elysium. Are you ready to return to your duties?’

  There was a long pause. Elliot looked at the back of Virgo’s silver head. Was she having second thoughts? Didn’t she want to go? She wasn’t thinking of staying, was she? OK, so maybe they could find space for her and maybe she could stay on at school and maybe they could live together again, but . . .

  ‘Yes,’ said Virgo finally. ‘I’m ready.’

  Elliot found himself needing to swallow very hard. Good. That was good. She was definitely going. Good.

  ‘Thank the Gods for that,’ huffed the Gemini twins in unison. ‘The dishwasher hasn’t been emptied for months.’

  ‘My toenails are longer than The Iliad,’ Taurus grumbled. ‘Looking forward to having you back on the team.’

  ‘We’re going to have a big party to celebrate your return,’ said Aquarius, raising his water jug in salute.

  ‘Oh – that’s great,’ said Virgo, looking a little brighter.

  ‘Yes,’ said Aries. ‘We thought you could organize it. If you do a good job, we might even let you serve drinks on the night.’