Losing the Plot

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Losing the Plot Page 4

by Annie Dalton


  I told myself this was the right, the only, decision, Chance was a real character but basically a loser. Cat was fabulous, but as an Elizabethan girl, her career prospects were painfully limited.

  We’re professionals, I told myself bravely. We aren’t allowed to have favourites. And on that basis, we didn’t exactly have a choice. We had to nominate talented go-getting Nick as Elizabethan Human Most Likely to Succeed.

  “So that’s settled,” I said. “We’ll get dishy Nick Ducket back on track and everything will be cool.”

  “Phew! What a relief,” said Reuben.

  And like people in a toothpaste ad, we gave each other big cheesy smiles.

  Chapter Five

  We were down by the docks, dangling our feet off a jetty, three angels and three humans sitting in a row listening to Nick pitch his latest money-making scheme.

  While Chance and Reuben were listening, me and Lola had tuned-out, the minute we realised Nick was proposing some dodgy gambling scam. I’m thick when it comes to cards and Lola was just depressed. Here we were, mad keen to help Nick become his new improved self, and he totally wouldn’t co-operate!

  I had a feeling Cat was thinking about her dad. She kept glancing wistfully at the sailing ships riding at anchor in the harbour.

  I love the smell of docks: salt and tar and fresh wood shavings. Mmn! I shut my eyes to take a really good sniff, and was impressed to see gold sparkles dancing inside my closed eyelids.

  “I’m getting cosmic sparkles!” I said excitedly.

  Lola instantly shut her eyes. “Me too! Wonder what that’s about?”

  “Could it be something to do with that little feel-good vibe they’ve got going here?” I said tentatively.

  “I suppose!” Lola had lifted her face to the sun, enjoying the rays.

  “Maybe it’s because the Elizabethan world has like, totally opened up,” I suggested. “Exciting new lands to explore. New discoveries. You can practically taste the excitement in the air.”

  Especially here, I thought dreamily, with all these beautiful ships getting ready to sail who knows where.

  Lola frowned. “I’ll tell you what’s weird, Boo. I mean, this has to be the vibiest time we’ve visited so far.”

  “Totally,” I agreed.

  “So, why isn’t the place stiff with angels? I haven’t seen a single cosmic agent of any description, have you?”

  “Actually, no—” I began.

  “Will you shut up!” Reuben grumbled. “I’m trying to make sense of all this underworld lingo Nick’s spouting. What is a ‘fingerer’, anyway?”

  Lola sighed. “He’s trying to involve Cat in a sting

  “A what?” said Reuben.

  “A hustle,” I suggested. “A scam?”

  Reuben still looked blank.

  “OK,” said Lola trying another tack. “Did they tell you about gambling on your Earth Skills course?”

  “Kind of,” he said cautiously. “Not sure I got it, though.”

  “Nick wants Cat to dupe someone into thinking he’s playing cards with a pair of total bozos, then he and Chance will take him for everything he’s got

  “Cat will never go along with it,” Reuben said firmly. “Will she, Mel?”

  Lola sighed. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but Nick has a way of making people do what he wants.”

  “I’m talking about some law student fresh up from the country,” Nick was saying smoothly. “If we don’t empty his pockets, someone else will.”

  Cat frowned. “And if we get caught?”

  “We won’t,” he said impatiently. “Besides, Chance and I are taking all the risks. You will just be our innocent go-between.”

  She chewed her lip, and I could tell she wanted to give the impression that she was calmly weighing up various pros and cons.

  Poor Cat. I completely understood what she was going through. I mean, she didn’t want Nick to think she was a pushover. On the other hand, no-one wants to look like a wuss in front of their mates, do they? Plus I think Nick giving her that rose had made her feel all mixed up inside. Basically, the bottom line was that she fancied him too much to say no.

  “Well, maybe just this once,” she agreed reluctantly.

  Nick was delighted. “That’s my Cat!”

  This boy is way too cocky, I thought, fuming.

  “I’ll buy you a new necklace out of our winnings,” he said impulsively. “Instead of those childish shells you wear.”

  Cat glowered at him. “I just want my share. I can buy my own jewellery, thank you, Nick Ducket.”

  The trio set off in the general direction of London Bridge, with us angels following close behind. Reuben was fretting. “You can’t blame Chance. He’s permanently broke. Also he hero-worships Nick. But Nick seems like he’s quite rich. And what if his scam goes wrong? What if the others come unstuck, because of him?”

  “Maybe they won’t,” I suggested. “Maybe it’ll be a doddle, like Nick says, and they’ll just grab the money and run.”

  My mates looked shocked.

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “Humans get away with dodgy stuff all the time.”

  The gaming house was attached to a riverside tavern called The Fleece. It was hardly a glitzy casino, just a room with too many tables, not enough light and almost no fresh air.

  Serving wenches bustled about with refreshments, but you could tell food and drink were not the point of this place. Money - winning it, losing it - that was the point. The air was jittery with anxiety.

  Just inside the door, an Irishman with a silky hypnotist’s voice was making three cards fly around a table as if they had a life of their own.

  “Keep your eyes on the Lady, my fine sirs,” he crooned. “Don’t look away. No, not for a second.” But when he turned the cards over, the gamblers groaned with disappointment. He shook his head sorrowfully. “Didn’t I warn you to be careful?”

  Reuben was beside himself with excitement. “I just spotted a whatsisname! A sting!”

  Lola burst out laughing. “I should hope you did! No-one ever wins ‘Find The Lady’.”

  All this time, Nick and Chance had been scanning the gaming house for potential victims. Now they’d clocked one, a shiny-faced law student, bragging to anyone who would listen.

  At a signal from Nick, Cat moved in and instantly went into a sexy simpleton routine.

  “Two young gentlemen over there have been watching you play cards, sir,” she said in a country voice. “And they noted your prow - prow - Oh, I dunno, ‘tis a word which means ‘great skill’.”

  Loudmouth scratched his neck inside its ruff. “Prowess,” he corrected her conceitedly.

  “Prowess! The very word.” Cat gave him a wide-eyed smile. “Anyway, they sent me to inquire if you would care to play cards. They are willing to risk all the money they have with them, for the great honour of playing with such as you.” She bobbed a little curtsey.

  “Then I mustn’t disappoint them,” he smirked.

  Nick really had a knack for knowing what made people tick. This student was greedy as well as boastful, also not too bright.

  The boys played so badly, it was embarrassing. Chance was even more bumbling and pathetic than usual. Naturally, Loudmouth cleaned them out. But just as their victim got up from the table, Nick gave this hammy gasp of surprise.

  “I quite forgot! I have my rent money hidden inside my shirt, for safekeeping. Would you do us the honour of playing again?” he pleaded.

  I couldn’t believe Loudmouth would fall for it. But like I said, he wasn’t too bright. His eyes lit up with pure greed. “Let’s play for everything in our purses! And perhaps your luck will change?” he added, obviously thinking they were gluttons for punishment.

  Their luck did change - dramatically. Nick and Chance revealed totally unsuspected gambling skills, and Loudmouth lost the lot, including the money he’d won from Nick and Chance.

  Nick and his mates fled with their winnings, flushed with excitement.

  �
�Smooth as cream,” Nick gloated. “Here is your prize, Cat.”

  Cat hastily stowed her share inside her bodice. I do hope she isn’t turning into a gangster’s moll, I thought anxiously.

  Reuben sagged with relief. “You were right, Mel. They pulled it off.”

  “Looks like it,” I agreed.

  Nick and Chance took Cat to the playhouse to celebrate.

  We’d just joined the massive queue outside, when Nick frowned. “I forgot my pomander,” he complained. “I’m going to buy some oranges.” And he disappeared into the crowd.

  Lola and Reuben exchanged baffled glances.

  “Was that like, code?” asked Lola.

  I grinned. “Haven’t you noticed those fancy fashion items some people have hanging from their belts?”

  “Those little pepperpot thingies?” said Lola.

  I nodded. “Well, they’re filled with incredibly strong perfume.”

  (All right, so I might have read up on the Tudors a teensy bit. I mean, once you get into it, it’s quite juicy!)

  “OK,” Lola said cautiously. “And Elizabethans do this because…?”

  “Because they have this theory that disease is caused by bad smells.”

  Reuben pulled a face. “You can see why! Have you ever smelled so many unwashed humans in your life?”

  Chance was wandering up and down the queue, chatting to various acquaintances. He had this incredible ability to get on with people from all walks of life. One minute he was talking about fetlocks to a groom, then, minutes later, I heard him swapping leather-making jargon with someone.

  “Your boy’s networking,” I giggled to Reuben.

  “My boy’s a total chameleon, more like,” he sighed.

  When Chance rejoined her, Cat gave him one of her looks. “You are the strangest boy,” she said. “You write like an Oxford scholar, yet you never know where your next meal is coming from. Don’t you ever want to follow a trade like a normal person?”

  Chance looked appalled. “Seven years working for the same master? The same work day after day, for no wages? Every day the same?” He shuddered. “I’d rather you sent for the constables and had me thrown in Newgate jail.”

  “But what will become of you?” Cat said in an anxious voice.

  His eyes grew hazy with worry. “I don’t know. Some nights, I wake in a sweat, wondering why I was ever—”

  He was interrupted by a blare of noise. An actor from the playhouse was blowing loud blasts on a trumpet - our signal to go in.

  Nick caught up with his friends, tossing an orange to each of them as they filed in through the great carved doors. They rubbed the peel on the insides of their wrists, solemnly sniffing the perfume.

  “Oh, I get it,” grinned Lola. “Smart move.”

  I’d only been to the theatre once before, on a school trip, and it didn’t leave much impression to be honest. I just remember miles of carpet and v. hard seats, which we had to sit on for like, hours and hours.

  Well, there was no carpet at the Lion. And the roof had a massive hole cut into it. You could actually see clouds floating overhead!

  I’d assumed our kids’ tickets would entitle them to seats, in this swanky grandstand affair at the side. But that cost an extra penny apparently (like, wow!). So we stood out in the open, with all the other hard-up folk. Groundlings, as you’re meant to call them.

  The really posh patrons, lords and ladies and so on, had the spiffiest seats at the side of the stage. Actually, I think the groundlings enjoyed looking at them as much as the show.

  At last several actors bounded on. The play had started.

  To begin with, the audience didn’t seem too fussed. They went on wandering about, chatting and cracking hazelnuts. But I was immediately gripped. The play was nothing like my school experience. It was wild! Like circus and stand-up, pantomime and soap opera all jumbled together. Boys dressed as girls, actors nattering to the audience, and whenever things threatened to get heavy, the fool got everyone laughing again.

  As it went on, the audience became totally involved, booing the villains, or screaming at the heroine to be careful. During a weepy bit near the end, a woman behind me was actually sobbing out loud.

  “I always forget how much I love plays,” Cat whispered to Chance.

  “I could have a job here, if I wanted,” he said at once.

  “Here we go,” sighed Reuben.

  Cat looked impressed. “Really?”

  “We could go backstage. I know some of the actor.” he said in a casual voice.

  “Oh, yes?” said Cat sharply. “What name do they know you by?”

  I couldn’t help laughing. And then for some reason I glanced casually at the gorgeously dressed lords and ladies at the side of the stage, and my entire world went blurry.

  There, sniffing his pomander and one hundred percent visible to the human race, was my number one cosmic enemy.

  The last time I’d seen this particular PODS agent, he’d been wearing a T-shirt and jeans. But apart from his bleached hair, the figure up on the stage could have stepped out of an Elizabethan painting. And I know this sounds stupid, but I was hypnotised by his jewellery - huge knuckleduster rings with great winking stones. I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

  Omigosh! I’d better warn the others, I thought.

  But suddenly this seemed like a really dangerous thing to do.

  What if it isn’t him? I panicked. What if it’s just some genuine Elizabethan aristocrat who only looks like him?

  Check the eyes, Mel, I told myself. That agent had those scary dead eyes, remember?

  I had another frantic peek. And found myself looking at an empty seat.

  I was totally confused. Had I just imagined the whole thing? Mr Allbright was always warning us that time-travel can play tricks with your mind.

  The play finished in a storm of applause.

  Nick gave a loud yawn. “At last!” he said irritably. “I thought it was going on for ever.”

  He began to hurry his mates towards the exit. “Come on! Those apprentices over there are spoiling for a fight and I don’t want Cat mixed up in it.”

  “I was going to take her backstage,” Chance protested.

  But as usual Nick got his own way.

  Outside, the weather was changing for the worse. Clouds were blowing up from the river, swallowing the last of the sunset, making it seem much later than it really was.

  Looking back, I know I should have told the others what I’d seen. But I mean, an actual POD up on the stage in full view, blatantly interacting with humans? How likely was that? And, anyway, how come my mates didn’t see him? It’s not like I was the only angel in the area.

  Much better keep quiet, Mel, I decided. If you make a big deal out of this, you’ll only end up embarrassing yourself.

  Since we’d left the playhouse, Chance had been trudging along, smiling to himself. Suddenly he looked dismayed. “We’re almost at London Bridge!”

  “Oh, so we are,” said Nick, as if he’d only just noticed.

  “Why did we come this way?” said Chance. “Cat said she had to go home.”

  “Yes,” said Cat accusingly. “What’s your game, Nick Ducket?”

  Nick touched one of her springy fuse-wire cur and gave her his special smile. “I just thought that since Lady Fortune has been smiling on us…”

  “No, no, NO,” said Cat. “I said I’d help you ONCE, Nick. I told you, my aunt is expecting me back.”

  “Come, Cat,” Nick coaxed. “You know you have a natural gift for deception, like all your—”

  He broke off in surprise. A raggedy procession was heading our way. Men, women, apprentices and children, all pointing and laughing.

  I heard the wavery tooting of a flute, a clunky little drum, explosive cracks like gunshots.

  As they got closer, I saw that the musicians were just dirty little kids with scared expressions. Close behind was their dad, grinning all over his face and cracking a long whip. That’s why I’d thought
I heard gunshots. He wore a sleeveless leather jerkin, exposing his muscly arms and most of his hairy chest.

  “Oo-er, it’s Mister Muscles the Lion Tamer!” I joked.

  Lola muttered, “That man’s got more teeth than a shark!”

  Reuben didn’t say a word. He’d gone totally white.

  He’d seen the dancing bear.

  Chapter Six

  I have never seen anything so sad as that bear trying to waltz. It was basically a bag of bones in a saggy fur coat, blind in one eye and covered with scars. For some reason, it kept peering wistfully into faces in the crowd. It seemed to be looking for someone.

  A shiver of wonder went through me. Omigosh! It’s looking for us!

  Unlike his bear, Mister Muscles was not a sensitive being, so it didn’t occur to him there were angels in his vicinity. He had no idea why his beast was disobeying him, and he didn’t care. He cracked his whip violently, and the bear collapsed on to all fours. The crowd roared.

  Chance had abruptly taken himself off down an alleyway He seemed to be having a major argument with himself. For the first time since I’d known him, his thoughts jumped out at me.

  I could seize his whip, break it into pieces. But I’m not as strong as he is. I’ll just make a fool of myself and the beast will be no better off.

  Like a sleepwalker, Reuben started walking towards the bear.

  “Don’t do anything!” I yelled. “Don’t do a thing!”

  He did, though. Reuben did something I totally didn’t expect.

  He spoke to the bear in the most beautiful language I have ever heard. Actually, the soft mysterious sounds reminded me very slightly of that heavenly music, my cosmic lullaby.

  When it heard these lullaby words, the bear suddenly grew still. Very deliberately, it looked at Reuben with its one good eye, and Reuben looked back. And without worrying about its fleas, not to mention its smell (which was rank), Reuben put his arms around the bear. The bear looked totally blissful.

  But Mister Muscles was desperate to get his show back on the road, so he started striking the bear with his whip again and again. And to my horror, each time the whip cracked, Reuben groaned and doubled up. I couldn’t understand what was happening. I mean, humans can’t injure angels. Everyone knows that.

 

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