Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery mm-5

by Georgia Byng

  In the portico of the hat shop outside sat the white Burmese cat, Miss Hunroe. Beside her, in their cat forms, were Miss Oakkton, back in her ginger tomcat body, and Miss Teriyaki, the gray Siamese.

  They stared across the road at the restaurant window and watched Black and his dining companion.

  On the other side of the street was the bus stop where AH2 had just arrived. He was consulting his red tracking machine. Molly Moon, it told him, was inside the grand building opposite. He rubbed his fingers together in excitement. If he played his cards right, he was on his way to making groundbreaking history.

  Nine

  Molly hid her old-lady face behind her wine list. She didn’t want Wilf to see what she was doing.

  “Well, what a choice!” he was muttering. “Fois gras, caviar!”

  Molly stared at the floral pattern wallpaper to the left of her. With its twisting vines, it was difficult to find another picture there, but Molly knew she had to if she wanted to morph again. So, staring stubbornly, she waited for a shape to emerge. All at once Molly saw a picture in the flowers. A strangely shaped umbrella. Shutting her eyes to make it like a photograph in her mind, she turned her attention to the beautiful, rich woman opposite Black. Her auburn hair was thick and glossy, as though she’d just walked out of a shampoo ad. Her slim face had a Caribbean tan, and she wasn’t wearing much makeup. She had lovely big brown eyes, and as they twinkled, Molly saw how they must have looked thirty years before.

  Molly’s imagination, like some sort of magical camera, plumped out the woman’s complexion. Her hair turned lighter, and Molly even conjured up the idea of some pigtails. She turned her designer suit into a simple school uniform. The vision was complete.

  Now juggling this picture with the image of the wallpaper umbrella at the same time, Molly was able to lift herself out of Sofia toward Black’s dinner partner.

  Good-bye, and thank you! she managed to think to Sofia before she left.

  As Molly’s spirit and personality arrived, the woman sank from her position of control. She didn’t stand a chance. With focused strength, Molly pushed her out of the way and down. As though from the bottom of a pool, Lady Storkhampton—for that was the woman’s name—looked up at who had snatched her body and mind. She saw it was a girl, a girl with a mission.

  “My name is Molly,” said the girl. “I’m borrowing your body for a little while. I won’t harm it. I’m sorry if this might make you feel that you have gone a bit mad afterward.”

  Lady Storkhampton’s body bent forward slightly, like a limp puppet. Then Molly took the helm.

  Two tables away, Sofia, now in control of her body and mind again, shook her head as she took in her surroundings.

  “Ooh, Wilf, I just had the oddest experience….”

  “Lady Storkhampton?” Black frowned at her over his oysters. In his hand he held a piece of paper—a check, in fact, that Lady Storkhampton, had given to him. Molly took a deep breath. The last thing she wanted was to give herself away. She had no idea whether Black was a mind reader, and she didn’t want to rouse his suspicions enough that he might try and probe Lady Storkhampton’s mind.

  “Oh, I think the lettuce I ate was a bit too peppery,” she explained, eyeing her plate of shrimp and sitting upright with a big smile.

  “Do you want some water?” Black poured Lady Storkhampton a glassful.

  “Thank you,” Molly as Lady Storkhampton said, her accent clear and posh. As Molly drank some water, she got her bearings. Like a person standing in a landscape looking at the surroundings, Molly looked about Lady Storkhampton’s mind to see who she was.

  She was the daughter of a very wealthy shipbuilder. She was married to an even richer man who owned vast swathes of land in England. She bred miniature horses and kept an aviary full of exotic birds. She spoke four languages—French, Italian, Spanish, and Russian—and she loved to ski. Her body felt very healthy, Molly thought. This was because she practiced martial arts every day.

  “Lady Storkhampton, this really is exceedingly generous of you!” Black was saying. “Five hundred thousand pounds!” I don’t think we have ever had such a generous donation! The children’s homes will be hugely helped by this.” Black folded the check that Lady Storkhampton had just written to him and slipped it into the inside pocket of his green velvet jacket.

  Molly was appalled. So Black was tricking people into giving him money for children’s homes that didn’t exist! This made Molly really angry. She knew about children’s homes firsthand. She’d lived in an orphanage until she’d been ten and a half. She knew just how decrepit and run-down they could be. Hers had been the worst of all. It made her furious that Mr. Black was skimming off this generous woman’s money—money that might have gone to real orphanages. If this was how Black used hypnosis, she thought, what might he do once he’d learned to morph? She looked down at the shrimp on her plate and felt sick. Now wasn’t the time to argue. Her main objective, her absolute number-one job now, was to get the hypnotism book off him. She tried to judge whether Black had hypnotized the rich heiress or not, but Molly found it difficult. She couldn’t feel the woman’s will at all, since it was buried underneath her own.

  With huge control of her temper, Molly as Lady Storkhampton looked up and smiled sweetly.

  “It’s my pleasure,” Molly said, her new voice crisp, each word flowing from her mouth perfectly formed. Then she nudged her handbag so that it fell on the floor. Before Black could offer to get it, she dived below the table to retrieve it.

  “Got it!” she exclaimed.

  Underneath the tablecloth, Molly saw Black’s bag. It was close to his leg, near the window, its strap hanging loose on the ground. Molly retrieved her handbag and came up for air.

  “That was a lightning move!” Black commented admiringly.

  “The martial arts keep me alert,” Molly replied. She took another sip of water and tried to think of a clever way to get Black’s bag.

  “I’m visiting the queen tomorrow,” Black said conversationally.

  Molly felt her eyebrows rise.

  “The queen!”

  “Yes. She’s a close friend of your mother’s, isn’t she?”

  “Indeed.” Molly edged her silk-stockinged leg across the floor to try to hook the strap handle of Black’s bag with her foot. In doing so, her body slipped slightly down in the seat. She hoped that, to Black, her change of posture would simply look like she was relaxing.

  “She’s given me a morning appointment. Eleven o’clock. I am hoping she will get involved with my children’s charity, too.” Black smiled.

  Molly couldn’t believe it! So Black was going right to the top to get rich. It was well known that the queen of Britain was one of the richest women in the world!

  Then the toe of her shoe caught hold of the bag’s strap. Without letting Black know what she was doing, Molly began to pull it across the floor toward her.

  Black’s cell phone went off. He ignored it.

  “Don’t you think you ought to answer that?” Molly suggested, eager to have Black’s attention diverted. “I don’t mind if you do.”

  Black shrugged. “I suppose I should. I have been ignoring it for the last twenty minutes.” He pulled a slim black phone from his outside jacket pocket.

  “Theobald Black speaking.”

  Molly felt the bag’s weight as she tugged it toward her. She shifted herself more upright on her seat to haul it up.

  “You were where?” Black was saying into the phone. He looked very concerned. “What were you doing in there?” The person on the phone was now gabbling away, and as they spoke, Black’s expression changed. He glanced worriedly from the waiter, to the other customers in the room, to people on the street outside. Then his eyes fell upon four cats sitting in front of a mailbox. Oddly, the animals appeared to be looking directly at him.

  “Cats?” he said disbelievingly. His eyes came back to his table and Lady Storkhampton. She seemed to be squirming in her seat.

  On the
other end of the line, Lily was frantic.

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone? You are just so stupid. You probably saw it was me and ignored the call like you always do. I’ve been trying to get you for ages. I didn’t follow you to start with because I was scared you’d be cross with me. And I was scared of the children. But then I realized it was important. They’re after the book. They disappeared. And those cats were spooky! And who knows where they are now? Don’t trust anyone! Do you hear me?”

  Black nodded. “I can’t chat now, Lily. Thank you,” he said as calmly as he could. “I’ll meet you at the hotel later. Thank you. Good-bye.”

  Now on high alert, Black automatically reached for his bag. The strap slipped off Molly’s foot.

  Micky the headwaiter, who had been hovering nearby, saw Black lift his bag onto the banquette beside him. He’d noticed a sudden change in Black—he’d seen how, after his telephone call, he’d glanced nervously about the restaurant. Micky’s instincts told him that he and Molly ought to get out of the restaurant now. So, taking a pen from his waistcoat, he quickly found a menu to write on.

  I’ll meet you near bus stop, he wrote on the menu beside the list of desserts. Then he stepped up to their table.

  “Finished, madam?” he asked.

  “Yes, I don’t feel quite up to shrimp today,” Molly answered.

  “Maybe something sweet will do the trick, madam,” Micky the headwaiter cajoled. “May I recommend the iced berries and the white chocolate sauce? Definitely worth a look.” He pointed to the list of desserts and to his urgent message.

  “Thank you,” Molly replied at the same time, reading his note. “What a good suggestion. Why not? Mr. Black, excuse me, I need to go to the powder room.”

  Beside the bus stop, AH2 held his red gadget up to where he suspected Molly Moon the alien was, and he inspected its reading. Extraordinarily, the glamorous woman standing up in the Glitz Restaurant seemed to now be the body of Molly Moon. This was very, very odd. So the alien could change into thin air and then into different bodies! This was beyond AH2’s wildest dreams. This was the stuff of science fiction. He was incredibly excited. Part of him was bubbling with delight because he could hardly believe that he, Malcolm Tixley, was actually making this historical discovery. The other part of him was steaming with exhilaration because all he had ever really wanted to do in life was meet an alien. And there was one, calmly having dinner.

  He wondered what to do. If he spoke to the alien, perhaps he would be able to persuade it to communicate with him. He could be the alien’s contact with Earth people. He could be the world expert. This would be very, very interesting. And as for the glory! AH2 could imagine his picture on the front page of every newspaper in the world! Maybe a movie would be made about his life!

  Then his gadget started to bleep and putter. Its silver coordinates were rejigging. It was telling him that the Molly Moon alien was moving through the building opposite. And now the readings showed that the Moon creature was leaving the Glitz Restaurant. Molly Moon, in the form of the glamorous woman, was crossing the road toward him. A waiter was by her side. They were already standing on the traffic island midway!

  AH2 gulped. Did the alien know about him? He’d made up his mind. He prepared himself to speak with it.

  Miss Hunroe, now back in her human form, stood with the collar of her thick fur coat wrapped up high around her neck. On her head was a heavy Russian fur hat, so that very little of her face could be seen. Beside her stood Miss Suzette, in a cream, frilly-collared cashmere cape; Miss Teriyaki, in a red patent-leather raincoat with a smart silver crutch under her arm; and Miss Oakkton, in her long green coat with two baskets of cats.

  “You,” Miss Hunroe said to Miss Teriyaki and Miss Suzette, “will follow Theobald Black when he comes out of the hotel.” Miss Oakkton passed Miss Suzette the basket with the Siamese and the Persian cats in it. “And remember,” Miss Hunroe warned. “He is far more masterful a hypnotist than either of you and will turn you to putty before you can blink. Don’t attempt to challenge him or hypnotize him. Miss Oakkton and I will deal with the Moon children.”

  “What a good idea,” gushed Miss Suzette.

  “Very sensible,” said Miss Teriyaki, her irritation with Miss Suzette showing in her voice.

  Miss Hunroe nodded at them. “Don’t argue, it’s not attractive.” Then she turned to cross the road.

  Miss Teriyaki sneered at Miss Suzette. “Why am I always stuck with you?”

  Micky as the headwaiter put his arm under Molly’s. Once across the street, they began to walk as quickly as they could along the pavement away from the Glitz. But as they passed the bus stop, a man in a dark parka obstructed them.

  “Excuse me,” he said, addressing Molly as Lady Storkhampton. “I’d like to introduce myself. I am AH2. My real name is Malcolm Tixley.” He gave a little bow. “Do not be alarmed. You can trust me. I know your secret, and I want you to confide in me. I want to be your contact on Earth.”

  Molly looked at Micky, bewildered.

  “I am a sympathetic human being,” AH2 insisted. “You can tell me all about your planet, your own species, your purpose here on Earth. I will keep the information confidential until a mutually agreed time when you want to talk to the other earthlings.”

  “Listen,” Molly as Lady Storkhampton said. “I’m not sure what you are talking about. Please leave me alone.” But the man in front of her shook his head and put his hand on her shoulder. He was beginning to look desperate. “Get off me,” Molly said, twisting away from his grip. This time the man grabbed both her shoulders.

  Miss Hunroe was almost across the road when she saw the strange situation in front of her. She drew closer.

  “You must confide in me, Molly Moon,” AH2 hissed. “It’s imperative that you do.”

  Miss Hunroe heard the name and was at once absolutely alert. Her mind catapulted. Who was the man ahead? Was the rich woman the Moon girl? Was the waiter beside her the Moon boy? Had they learned how to morph into humans?

  Miss Hunroe faltered and her heartbeat quickened as she considered what to do. Amazingly, the twins had already mastered the art of morphing. And so they had the secret that she was desperate for. Miss Speal, as a child, had only learned animal morphing, and so this was all she had been able to teach Miss Hunroe. Morphing into humans was so much more useful! If she could get the secret from Molly or her brother, she’d be able to easily get the hypnotism book from Black. And then—why then…

  Micky could see that things were getting out of hand. He didn’t want this madman drawing attention to them.

  “Police! Help!” he yelled, seeing a police car crawling nearby.

  In a moment, two officers had jumped out of their car. They pushed past the people near the bus stop and seized AH2.

  “All right, all right, what’s this all about?”

  AH2 hardly saw the policemen. He clung to Lady Storkhampton as though his life depended upon it.

  “GET OFF ME!” Molly shouted. “YOU’RE CRAZY! GET OFF!”

  The police snapped handcuffs onto the young man’s wrists and restrained him.

  “You don’t understand!” AH2 cried desperately to them. “This woman is an alien.”

  “I’m sure she is,” said the first officer. “You can come and tell us all about it down at the station.” With that, they began to push AH2 toward their car.

  “We’ve got to change,” Micky said to Molly. He pulled Lady Storkhampton away from the police and the people about them, and swiftly he found a gap in the traffic. Darting between cars, he and Molly crossed the road once more.

  “Excuse me, you two,” called one of the policemen after them, waving a notebook at Lady Storkhampton. “You need to come back to give me a statement.”

  Micky and Molly ignored him and hurried into the side street near the hat shop.

  Miss Hunroe left her hiding place to follow them, but for her, negotiating the traffic was difficult, and crossing impossible.

  �
��Ve vill have to push through,” said Miss Oakkton, returning from another secret pipe break.

  Looking ahead, Molly saw the alley where she’d spotted the bins and the rats before. “Quick, Micky!” she said. “Follow me. I’ve had an idea.”

  Theobald Black was now leaving the hotel. His eyes moved to the small crowd that had gathered on the other side of the street, where a police car had stopped. One of the policemen was talking to a man inside the car, who was shouting like a lunatic. Black did not feel comfortable at all. First Lady Storkhampton had disappeared, and now there was this trouble outside. He turned his attention to getting home as quickly as possible.

  AH2, Malcolm Tixley, sat in the police car. He watched the woman in the fur hat and her large companion with her basket of cats as they made it across the road. Then his eyes darted across the street to look for the glamorous woman who was Molly Moon.

  There she was, with her chaperone, crouching on the floor in an alley near some rubbish bins. AH2 held his breath as he expected something to happen. He watched as the fur-hatted woman and her friend trotted toward the bins. Suddenly, the gadget in his pocket began to bleep. His eyes shot toward the woman who had been eating in the Glitz and the waiter beside her. Simultaneously they both slumped onto the ground.

  Miss Hunroe and Miss Oakkton were stopped in their tracks. They let the police rush past them toward the two people beside the bins. They could read the signs. These people weren’t of any use to them now. Molly and Micky had left them.

  Ten

  A rat was practically the last creature Molly would ever choose to be, so she’d forced herself to want to be the dirty, mangy, whiskered rodent by the bin.

  Now she was flying in a state of nothingness toward it. Within a few seconds, Molly felt herself filtering into the rat. And then she became rat. Immediately, she was overwhelmed with ratty sensations. She felt her whiskers twitching as they read the air about her for other rats’ whisker messages. Her new skin was numb from the cold, and all over her body was the horrid sensation of itchy bites from, Molly supposed, fleas. Her ears were erect and alert, and her ratty instinct was to be almost entirely thinking about food—particularly about the overflowing rubbish bin that cascaded down above her, full of delicious, odorous things.