She helped James sprinkle sugar on his chopped banana. Fruit was still his favourite food, despite everything G-Mamma had done to introduce him to doughnuts, burgers and fried peanut-butter sandwiches. He’d licked the sugar off the doughnuts and scraped the peanut butter off the bread with a finger, but everything else had been spat on to the floor with a look of disgust.
Janey sighed, watching him prod a piece of banana with his fork. So much for thinking it might be an interesting summer. The weeks had stretched on and on, milk-white mornings fading to late summer bedtimes, without a mission in sight. Even with her father close by, right in the firing zone, there was nothing to do. Since the naming ceremony, the highlight of the summer had been teaching James how to play football (or rather trying to join in while Alfie taught James how to play football) and getting uniform items for her new school from Seacrest and Argents department store.
Even the bad dreams had stopped completely. She hated Copernicus. She really did. But with NASA scientists checking his every breath and brainwave pattern, he was safely out of the way – and life was extremely dull.
‘What are we doing today?’ she said eventually, when the sound of everyone chewing and slurping had finally got to her.
The newspaper opposite her folded down. ‘I’m still on holiday,’ said her father with a grin that took in James as well. ‘I’m doing nothing.’
‘Me too,’ said Jean Brown. ‘We can do nothing together.’
They gave each other such a soppy look that Janey felt a bit nauseous. She’d wanted so much for her dad to be around, and for her mum to realize this man was actually her presumed-dead husband. But now that they were reunited it made her feel extremely uncomfortable to see them kissing, or twinkling their eyes at each other in some weird, adults-only way.
‘What about you, Jamie?’
James looked up and twiddled his right-hand fingers across his left palm.
‘Football? OK.’ It was better than nothing.
But James shook his head and repeated the action, more slowly this time.
‘Just for a walk then. That’s fine. I’ll get my hat . . . no?’ James was shaking his head again, pointing at his chest. There was no mistaking what he meant. ‘Oh. You want to go on your own.’
James nodded.
‘You’re too little,’ said Janey, just a little petulantly. She hadn’t been allowed to go off on her own until the last couple of months (apart from at night, on her missions, when her mother had known nothing about it), and James was much younger than she was.
Gathering the breakfast dishes, Jean Brown shot Janey a warning glance. ‘Janey, James can look after himself. He has been through an awful lot without anyone holding his hand.’
Janey was about to protest that she’d been through quite a lot herself, when she noticed her mother wiggling her eyebrows and sending meaningful looks at the newspaper. A large advert for Solfari Lands, the zoo belonging to her father, which acted as yet another cover for his spy activities, rippled across the front page. ‘MEET THE CHIMPS,’ it declared. ‘ENCOUNTERS AT 10.30 A.M. AND EVERY HOUR UNTIL CLOSING.’ Now she understood. James wanted to see his sister. His other sister, she corrected herself. His chimpanzee sister.
So that was that. Her mum and dad had each other. James preferred his other sister to Janey. And she had nothing to do. ‘I’m going to see G-Mamma,’ she huffed.
The building where G-Mamma now lived and worked still looked exactly like a garage. Its gravel driveway ran between rows of houses on one side and allotments – where some organic turkeys were being bred – on the other. The allotment turkeys’ devotion to G-Mamma and her never-ending supply of leftovers was positively slavish, and they scurried to the fence, eyes bulging, whenever she appeared.
The whole place had a ramshackle, disowned air about it, and the main entrance was through a rotting wooden door that opened directly on to the garden. Inside, however, G-Mamma had transported the place into the twenty-second century. The space under the roof that had previously been used to store old tents and cricket sets had somehow been opened up to provide a sleeping platform dripping with fairy lights and candelabra, which Trouble, Spycat extraordinaire, had adopted as his personal throne area. Access was by way of a chrome SPIral staircase, which G-Mamma could also use to burrow through the earth to Australia at the drop of a large, flowery hat.
‘Blonde! Nice of you to call by.’ G-Mamma waved.
The double garage doors had been covered in mirrored glass; one half housed the sleekest of refrigerators, and the other opened up to display G-Mamma’s cosmetics collection in its full glory. All along the side walls were immense white filing cabinets, switch-activated to rotate far into the earth, so that despite the small size of the garage, the SPI:KE could still accommodate a full range of SPI-buys and a complete bank of computers, sound synthesizers and technological equipment. In place of her usual benches, G-Mamma had a folding Workmate in gleaming platinum and a shiny plastic bar stool on wheels, on which she sailed around the garage like a chubby heron.
Only a fat old tractor tyre in one corner, now spray-painted white and daubed with pink and yellow daisies, gave any indication of the building’s original purpose. Trouble had taken to dropping half-dead birds into the tyre’s hole, and he added the latest to his collection as Janey watched in disgust. Animals, she thought. Sometimes you couldn’t stop them being -well, animals.
‘So what’s going on in Brown Towers?’ G-Mamma tried to twinkle at Janey in her usual eye-glittering way, but it wasn’t working. ‘New mission? Don’t know how I’d cope. I’m soooo busy.’
‘Nothing’s going on,’ said Janey. ‘And you’re as bored as I am.’
‘Me? Bored? Me?’ G-Mamma waggled her outfit-matching pink fingers at Janey. ‘Never! I’ve got my SPI:KE-y hands full this very moment.’
‘With what?’ Janey asked eagerly. ‘Maybe I could help.’
‘Well, today,’ said G-Mamma, reaching into her Workmate and fumbling around, ‘I have invented SParrows. The world’s first SPI arrows. They’re going to be as indispensable as SPInamite, or your trusty Girl-gauntlet.’
She held one up for Janey to see. A thick wooden pole had been roughly sharpened at one end, with flights made from pink feathers attached at the other. G-Mamma waved it around like a wand and threw back her head in preparation for a major rap.
‘Sparrow power, it’s here, it’s here,
Sparrow power; feel the fear, feel the fear . . .
They fly through the air like birds on the wing,
Get out of their way or you’ll feel their sting.
Sparrow power, it’s here, it’s here.
Feel it, squeal it, FEEL THE FEAR!
‘Do you know, I really should go into advertising – if I ever find myself in need of a job.’ She gave Janey a tight smile.
‘Um, G-Mamma,’ said Janey gently, handing back the missile, ‘it’s a cricket stump with feathers on it.’
G-Mamma leaped off her chair. ‘Well, it is now, my doubting Spyletti, but wait till it’s been Wowed!’
Janey smiled. ‘I see. Although hang on a second – where is your Wower?’
‘In a space as terribly teensy as this, I mean, as cosy as this, everything has to have two purposes,’ said G-Mamma. She tapped out a rhythm on the bottom step of the SPIral staircase and, sure enough, it swivelled around to reveal a narrow cylindrical spy shower. Opening the door, G-Mamma called, ‘Wow the Sparrow,’ as she lobbed the feathery cricket stump inside
Janey fiddled with the TV remote controls as she waited. Suddenly the left-hand mirrored door went misty, and the voice of a newscaster droned out into the room. ‘Gosh, everything does have two uses,’ she said, trying to change the channel. Nothing happened, and the newsreader’s voice boomed out as an image flickered into life on the fridge – a picture of a small jet plane, its nose mangled out of shape, with two sheepish-looking RAF officers pointing to it.
‘And finally,’ said the newsreader, ‘a fighter jet on a t
raining mission in Scotland had to make an emergency landing when an enormous bird struck the fibreglass nose and was almost sucked into the engine. The brand-new Joint Combat Aircraft was flying at nine hundred metres when the bird, thought possibly to have been a huge pelican caught way off course, zoomed into their sights and struck the plane. The RAF has admitted that the plane was flying over built-up areas, including the Sol’s Lols ice-lolly factory, and it is only thanks to the skill of the pilots that the damaged jet did not crash-land, causing many fatalities. The pelican is missing, presumed dead.’
‘Look!’ screeched G-Mamma, brandishing something in Janey’s face. ‘It’s brilliant. Look at that!’
Janey stared at her, open-mouthed. ‘Didn’t you hear that? Sol’s Lols has—’
‘I’ve invented a SPI-buy. A few little adjustments . . . I’ll. Be. RICH!’ And at that G-Mamma danced around the garage, holding the cricket stump above her head as if she’d just won the Olympics with it.
‘G-Mamma, something’s wrong,’ Janey shouted, grappling for the SParrow. ‘Some fighter jets were flying over Sol’s Lols! Don’t you think that’s fishy? Maybe someone was trying to attack the Spylab.’
G-Mamma sat down with a whump. ‘Bumpy bombers . . . show me!’
The news item had finished. Janey flicked through the channels, but nobody was covering that item. ‘It was a plane. The RAF, they said. Can’t we at least look it up?’
‘OK,’ said G-Mamma with gusto. She pulled up the computer panels and tapped into the keyboard. The latest news scrolled down the page. ‘Well, it mentions the pelican and the pilots’ malarkey, but nothing about Sol’s Lols. Maybe it’s just coincidence.’
‘Well, they wouldn’t need to mention it, would they, if it hadn’t actually been hit? That big bird probably stopped them before they had the chance to bomb the building.’
‘Or maybe, baby Blondey, you are so bored and dying for some little mission to zip off on, you’re just letting your imagination run away with you.’ G-Mamma cocked her head, fluttering her eyelashes so fast that Janey giggled.
‘Maybe, but I’m still not convinced. The whole thing’s weird. And pelicans are sort of tropical, aren’t they? Not the kind of the thing you usually find flying around Scotland,’ she said eventually. ‘I’d better leave you to invent the bow for your cricket stump. I’ve a feeling we might need it.’
‘The bow? Oh, the firing thingy. Yes, oh yessy. I’ll be like Robin Hood.’ The SPI:KE’s eyes lighted on a length of old hosepipe. ‘I’ll let you know when it’s ready. We can shoot at your mother. Joking!’ she added hastily when she saw Janey’s face.
‘Or,’ said Janey darkly, ‘at fighter jets. Get ready, G-Mamma. There’s something going on up there. And I’m going to find out what it is.’
It was a mission for Jane Blonde. She was going, that night, and nothing and nobody were going to stop her.
Unfortunately for Janey, she’d forgotten about the two most influential people in her world.
She found both her parents in their Spylab, poring over something Janey couldn’t see.
‘What are you doing?’ she said, and they both turned around with a start.
‘Looking at a map,’ said her father, rolling it up into a tube and smiling at Janey. ‘We’re thinking about another holiday, as Florida wasn’t exactly restful.’
She jumped on the end of the bed. ‘No! You can’t go away! Something has happened.’ Janey told them what she had just heard on the news.
Her parents looked at each other. ‘That sounds serious,’ said her mother steadily. ‘I could go up to Sol’s Lols tonight and check.’
Janey drew in a sharp breath. Of course, she was delighted that her mum was now keen to get involved in missions, but she’d unearthed this one. ‘Can’t I go?’
Her father held up his hand. ‘Nobody’s going. We can check it out from a distance. Anyway, I’m sure one of my employees would have told me if there was a major problem.’ He pulled up a company organization chart on the computer screen. It showed two columns: undercover SPIs and the people who actually produced the lollies.
Janey shook her head. ‘One of us needs to go, surely.’ Why was he so reluctant to go and have a look?
Her father watched her face carefully for a moment, then said, ‘All right, but it should be me. If there are frightened employees, or even scared SPIs, then their boss should be the one to talk to them. Jean, you can come with me.’
‘But – I know Sol’s Lols really well,’ argued Janey. ‘I’ve been there twice, and I’d be able to see immediately if something’s changed.’
‘Janey, nothing will have changed,’ said her father. ‘It’s more than likely that this story is about exactly what it says it is.’
‘A pelican? A pelican in a jet?’ Janey could hear her voice getting shrill, and tried not to notice her mum folding her arms across her chest in a don’t-take-that-tone-with-me-young-lady fashion. ‘They don’t have pelicans in Scotland, do they?’ She whisked around and tapped into the computer. ‘No. See. There. No pelicans, and someone in a jet doing test runs over Sols Lols.’
‘Janey . . .’ warned Jean.
Boz simply shrugged. ‘Well, if there is anything funny about it, your mum and I will find out.’
‘What shall I do?’ said Janey plaintively.
‘You can look after James,’ said her mum.
‘Look after James?’ Janey could hardly believe her ears. ‘Mum, just this morning you told me that Jamie doesn’t need looking after.’
‘He does when his new parents are out on dangerous missions.’
Janey felt a horrible familiar tingling across the bridge of her nose. ‘So you admit that it’s dangerous. Something is going on, and I’m not being silly,’ she said quietly, not daring to raise her voice. She knew that if she got any angrier, she would surely, definitely, burst into tears.
There was a long pause in which Jean and Boz looked at each other uncomfortably.
‘Listen,’ said her mother eventually, ‘we just don’t want you to get hurt if . . . and it’s only an if . . .’
‘If? Get hurt?’ Janey knew she was shouting now, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘You know you can trust my spy instincts! Look at our previous missions. I’m always right in the end – about the Sinerlesse, and about Copernicus or his henchmen every creepy time he’s shown up at a different location: here, the Hallidays’, Sol’s Lols, Antarctica, Dubbo Seven and Solfari Lands and . . . and . . . Sunny Jim’s Swims and even on a new planet with the Lay-Z Beam. And I’ve nearly died so . . . so many times, and every time I’ve come through it. Me! Jane Blonde, Sensational Spylet! Jane Blonde should be the one going on this mission!’
And then the unthinkable happened. Her father, his shoulders hunched in fury, flailed across the lab, shoving test tubes and gadgetry off the benches in a frenzy. ‘No!’ he bellowed. ‘I will go – on my own. I am still the head of this organization, and I decide who does what, and I am still . . . your –’ he roared as he smacked his fist down on the bench – ‘father!’
At which point Janey finally burst into tears. ‘I . . . I hate you!’ she screamed, flinging herself down the SPIral staircase.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs James was coming up the front path. He stared at her, bewildered. Janey brushed her angry tears aside and shoved past him, whispering, ‘Sorry.’ Whatever had happened, it wasn’t James’s fault. But she’d never been so furious – and confused – in all her life, and she didn’t know what to do with herself. So she slammed the gate behind her, took to the streets and ran.
Running calmed her down. Janey was not as fast as she was with her Fleet-feet on, by any means, nor was she particularly graceful. But it still felt good to be burning through the streets. By the time she’d run out of breath, she’d also run out of anger. Instead, a cool instinctive logic had taken over. As well as the weird pelican and fighter jet story, her father’s uncharacteristic behaviour indicated that something was up. Whether she was allowed o
r not, Jane Blonde was going to have to check this out for herself.
Returning home, she knocked on the garage door and opened it. G-Mamma was chasing Trouble around, yelling, ‘Leave the birdies alone!’ He’d just dropped another fluttering specimen into his tyre-nest.
‘G-Mamma, can I talk to you?’
The SPI:KE skidded to a halt in front of her, her cheeks more rosy than ever. She blew a curl out of her eye. ‘That’s what I’m here for. At least, I think it is. It used to be. Now nobody seems to . . . to . . . Even the cat’s disobeying me.’ And to Janey’s shock a fat tear tipped over on to G-Mamma’s cheek and streaked its way through her make-up. ‘Sorry, Blonde. Something in my eye . . .’
Janey nodded. ‘I know, G-Mamma. I understand. I . . . I got something in my eye earlier. Dad . . .’ She didn’t really know what to think about her father. ‘I think he might be losing it a bit. He got so angry with me.’
‘Yes. He’s been a little touchy with me too, I have to say,’ said G-Mamma with a sniff. ‘Anyway, what’s your point?’
Janey stared at her reflection in the mirrored wall. Janey Brown. So ordinary. But rather extraordinary beneath it all. ‘I think we need to take matters into our own hands,’ she said quietly.
‘No,’ said G-Mamma in a flat voice. ‘We can’t. Boz has always been the boss man.’
‘But there’s something going on. He’s not behaving normally. He’s chucked you out of your lab and now he’s shouting at me. He won’t let me go on the mission to Sol’s Lols. So . . .’ Janey peeped up at her SPI:KE, holding her breath, ‘. . . I think I should go anyway, with your help.’
G-Mamma regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘OK, Blonday,’ she said slowly. ‘Looks like we both need to find ourselves a new job. Let’s do it! Just until we’re sure your dad’s OK,’ she added hastily.
‘Deal,’ said Janey. A minute later she walked back into the house, apologized to her parents and promised to look after James as they had asked.
Bedtime seemed to take forever to come around, following a half-finished game of Monopoly that everyone soon tired of. But at long last she was in her bedroom. Putting on her pyjama shorts and top in case anyone checked on her, she inserted the SPI-Pod G-Mamma had given her into her ear, moved some books out of the way and pushed her ear up against the wall between her room and the Spylab.
Jane Blonde: Spy in the Sky Page 2