“That man is self-obsessed. What is it he wants to achieve tomorrow? Revenge on his brother? Petty, in the scheme of things. Let him have his fun, I say. He’ll see the bigger picture soon enough, though, won’t he, Tom?” She laughed.
Boy laughed too. It was obvious to Violet that he felt awkward, and she was sure Powick would notice. The nurse would never fall for Boy’s story.
“So are you finished here, then?” she asked.
“Erm, yes, I think he is.” Boy looked over at Jack.
Jack shrugged and half-smiled.
“Bit funny Edward not asking me to look at Hugo’s eyes, isn’t? Since Hugo and the others are my creations. Don’t you think?”
Boy shifted uneasily.
“So how did you fix Hugo’s eyes then, lad?” Nurse Powick asked, as she walked over to Jack, leaning right in.
She was facing Denis again, and Violet could see her wild eyes.
Violet tensed. She had to do something. Powick couldn’t find out everything, or their plans would be ruined. The nurse was millimetres from Jack’s face, staring into his eyes.
“I…I just…I rewired them,” Jack stuttered.
“Oh really?” She laughed again. “And how is it Mr Edward Archer asked a boy like you to do that? You’re an orphan, aren’t ya, son? You’ve the smell of a lost sheep!”
Out of the far corner of the screen, Violet could see Hugo. She remembered noticing a red button just below his battery pack with the word RELEASE on it. It had to be the button to free the monster from his harness.
She had an idea. She turned off Denis and quietly snuck into the stable next door. Powick had her back to her, and was still intimidating Jack.
She signalled silently at Boy, pointing to herself and then Hugo. Boy nodded as though he understood.
Her heart thumped loudly. She tiptoed behind Powick, round the edge of the stable to Hugo, and pushed her hand onto the red RELEASE button.
The monster’s harness clanked loudly as it flew upwards over his head, freeing Hugo from his restraints.
“Call him!” Violet shouted, as the Child Snatcher stepped away from the wall.
“Hugo, attack!” Boy roared, pointing at Powick.
The nurse stood back and laughed, as Hugo lumbered towards her.
“He’s my creation. Hugo won’t attack me – would you, Hugo? Hugo…?”
The Child Snatcher groaned and lifted his hands up as he trudged towards Powick. The nurse’s face changed. She turned and started to run frantically towards the door, just as Jack tackled her to the ground.
Within moments, Hugo was upon his creator. He grabbed the woman by the collar of her navy cloak, hoisting her into the air.
“I’m your mother, your creator! Please, Hugo, please,” the woman spluttered.
“You might have made him, but Tom’s his friend,” Violet said, relieved, as Powick was caught firmly in the Child Snatcher’s grasp. “Maybe you should treat your creations better next time!”
“What do we do now?” Jack asked.
“Bring her back here,” a raspy voice echoed through the stable.
Everyone scanned the room, unsure where the voice had come from.
“It’s me – Macula. The walkie-talkie is in your hand, Boy. You’ll be happy to know Hugo’s transmitter is working. Bring Powick back here. OVER!”
“Boy?” Powick laughed. “How did you get out of the caravan, you miserable swine? Did your friends come and save you? Rather sweet, if a little silly. You’ll see soon.”
“But what if someone notices she’s missing? OVER,” Boy asked his mam, ignoring Powick.
“And believe me, they will notice,” the nurse growled.
“They won’t,” Macula insisted. “Nobody will be looking for that woman, tonight. The Archers are too busy preparing for tomorrow, as I’m sure Tom is too. Just come straight back, and bring her with you. I’ll meet you at Iris’s. OVER.”
“Okay,” Boy said, slipping the walkie-talkie into his pocket. “Let’s go back to Town. We can figure out what to do then.”
Boy ordered Hugo to carry the nurse. The Child Snatcher threw Powick over his shoulder as they left the zombies’ stable and made their way across the ploughed field towards the well-shaft.
“So you’re Tom’s brother,” Powick said, as she hung halfway down Hugo’s back. “Are you really going to listen to that fool of a mother? She left you in the orphanage, all that time. I felt so bad for Tom, I simply had to take him under my wing. I would have taken you too, but I could only afford to feed one mouth…”
“Is that because you were already feeding all those toys in your house? Plastic food must be expensive!” Jack mocked.
“Toys? How dare you,” Powick spat, irate. “Those are my babies – the babies you orphans destroyed! Children should be locked up, not seen and not heard. That’s my motto!”
“At least we’re real,” Jack replied angrily.
“Real?” Powick laughed. “How does a child with no parents even exist? You’re all the discarded, unwanted ones. Your families may have pretended they wanted you back, but look at your pathetic little Town now, falling apart at the seams. The Perfectionists don’t want No-Man’s-Landers, they never did!”
“Boy, can you get Hugo to shut her up?” Jack snapped.
Boy ordered Hugo to stop Powick speaking. Slowly, the Child Snatcher made a fist and thumped her, knocking her out.
“I’m beginning to like Hugo,” Violet said, smiling, as she climbed onto the well platform.
She waited for the others to come aboard, then pressed D, O, W, N, and the stone floor returned to the tunnel.
The group walked back along the tunnel until they reached the storage room filled with boxes of gas canisters. Boy ordered the Child Snatcher to stay put at the arched entrance. Powick was still out cold over his shoulder. Then the three children ducked inside.
“This is where the Archers store their OA gas, the stuff that makes us angry.” Violet pointed to a stack of cardboard boxes marked with OA in giant red letters. “We need to look for boxes marked nitreous oxitocin or maybe NO. Dad said that’s the happy gas. It has to be here somewhere too.”
Boy, Jack and Violet began quickly searching the small room. Violet rummaged through stacks of boxes, but every one she touched was marked with the same letters, OA.
“Here,” Boy called from across the room.
He was ducked down, rummaging in a cardboard box, and pulled out a canister marked NO.
“Brilliant,” Violet exclaimed. “Spray a little to check.”
Boy pushed on the nozzle, and Violet could just about see the clear mist dart across the dark room. Although she could tell he was trying to keep serious, Boy’s face lit up, he smiled and then began to giggle.
Violet felt a little of the gas tickle her nose, and she began to giggle too.
“How many boxes are there?” Jack asked.
“Maybe five or six.” Boy laughed. “And there’s about twenty canisters in each box.”
“I’m sure that should be enough,” Violet replied, feeling very happy. “Now all we need to do is get that gas into the white room, so it gets mixed into the clouds and rained down over Town!”
“But won’t the angry gas still be in the clouds too?” Boy asked. “I mean, we don’t know how to stop the spray the Archers are already using.”
“Yeah, but if we put enough in, then hopefully the happy gas will overpower the OA. It has to at least have some effect. People should be a lot more relaxed than they are right now, and that’s all we need them to be, so they can stop and listen!”
“And how will we get the gas into the room?” Jack asked, keen to get moving.
Violet turned and pointed to the turbine she’d escaped through before.
“That propeller creates the cold air that passes along a short pipe into the white room, where it helps make clouds. If every time the blades stop moving, we put our arms through the propeller and spray the happy gas into the pipe, it should end u
p in the white room.”
“And become part of the clouds.”
“Exactly, Jack.” Violet smiled. “I’m glad someone here has brains!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Boy laughed.
“Nothing,” Violet teased, grabbing a canister.
“We can use these to reach up to the pipe,” Boy said, carrying over a few wooden crates and placing them against the wall under the propeller.
Then Violet climbed on top of the crates and waited for the propeller blade to stop spinning. Once it had wound to a halt, she stuck her arm through the blades into the pipe, pressed the nozzle of the can and sprayed it into the pipe. She was laughing so much by the time the can was empty, she almost fell off her perch.
Boy mounted more crates, covered his mouth with his sleeve and, before the propeller began to move again, pushed the can inside the pipe and released its contents. Jack did the same.
They continued at a good pace, until a while later four boxes of nitreous oxitocin had been emptied into the pipe, and Boy, Violet and Jack were rolling about in hysterics on the stone floor.
“I can’t…I can’t…I can’t breathe,” Violet choked.
“Neither can I…” Boy gasped as he tried to pull himself up against the wall, beaming wildly.
“I think…I can’t think…” She burst out laughing once more.
Slowly, Violet managed to pull herself onto her knees and pick up a canister beside her, before trying to scale the crates again. She was laughing so much she stumbled into a stack of OA boxes, sending their canisters clattering across the floor.
“We need to get out…out…out of this room,” Jack laughed, using his elbows to drag himself towards the arched doorway where Hugo still stood obediently.
Violet followed Jack, stumbling through stacks of boxes as she passed, while Boy crawled, in convulsions, behind the pair.
“This is tak…taking too…too long,” Jack cried, trying to speak between the laughter.
“You’re…you’re right,” Boy giggled. “We need to get Hugo…ba…back and into…into the Town…Town Hall…before morning.”
Jack pulled himself up to sitting.
“You…you two…go on,” he insisted. “I’ll keep spraying.”
“But what…what…if…if you die laughing?” Violet tried to keep serious.
All three broke out into hysterics once more.
“At least it’ll make…make…a change from anger,” Jack replied, gasping for air. “Make sure Iris tunes the radio… She…she has to tune the ra-radio!”
“You go back…Jack, you need to help,” Boy giggled. “I can…can…stay and do the gas…”
Jack shook his head, breathless.
“I’ll stay…” Violet chuckled, trying to control herself.
“No…no…I couldn’t…couldn’t…tune anything… now, anyway,” Jack insisted. “Can’t…concen…concentrate!”
“Okay…don’t be…be long.” Boy smiled, pulling Violet from the dirty floor. “Hugo…follow.”
Violet’s stomach hurt from laughing and she struggled along the tunnel to the exit, giggling uncontrollably as she watched the tomb open into the graveyard.
She wobbled up the steps and collapsed onto the gravel path. Even the mist couldn’t dull her mood. Boy crawled out and stopped just behind her, catching his breath.
“We have to be serious, Boy,” she mused, looking up at the cloudy night sky.
“I know,” he giggled, “but I just can’t control myself.”
The rain had stopped, the clouds had parted a little and Violet could see some stars. It was the first time she’d seen them over Town in ages.
“Look, Boy!” She smiled, pointing upwards. The laughing gas made her feel lighter and more carefree than she’d been in a long time.
“I haven’t seen stars like that for a while,” he replied. “Do you remember how clear the nights were when Town was Perfect?”
Violet was silent, thinking, then she turned to look at her friend.
“Do you think we did the wrong thing bringing down Perfect?”
“No, why would you say that?”
“Because everyone seemed happier then – well, at least, the Perfectionists were. Maybe the No-Man’s-Landers and Perfectionists aren’t meant to be friends? Maybe they are too different.”
“Violet.” Boy sighed. “There’s no such thing as Perfectionists and No-Man’s-Landers. There’s just people. That’s what Dad says.”
Violet had really missed Boy. He always knew how to make her feel better.
“Anyway” – he smiled, giggling again – “we better get going. I…I can’t look up at Hugo’s nose hair any longer!”
Taken with the stars, Violet hadn’t really noticed Hugo standing over them, Powick still lying unconscious across his bony shoulder.
The Child Snatcher’s large nostrils did look a little like spaceships, hovering above their heads. Violet looked back at the stars and exploded in laughter.
The rain had stopped pouring in Town as Violet, Boy and Hugo, still carrying Nurse Powick, made their way back to Iris’s house.
Boy knocked on the door.
“Oh goodness! Come in, come in,” Iris said, moving backwards as Hugo stomped inside.
Macula stood open-mouthed as the Child Snatcher stopped still in the hallway. “He’s, ahem, he’s…”
“He’s a zombie.” Violet smiled. “Hugo’s not the nicest to look at, but he’s really useful.”
“Well…we’ve been expecting visitors,” Macula said, quickly grabbing a pile of rope from the bottom of the stairs. “So I went out and found this. Help me tie her up, Boy.”
Boy and his mother wound the worn rope round Powick’s wrists and ankles. Then Macula stood back to survey their work.
“Not a bad job,” she said, dusting off her hands. “Now put her under the stairs.”
On Boy’s orders, the Child Snatcher picked up the tightly-bound nurse and deposited her in the closet under Iris Archer’s stairs. Then Macula closed the door and bolted it.
“Hugo will stand watch until morning, when we have to bring him to the Town Hall,” Boy said, yawning.
“Where’s Jack?” Iris asked, as she beckoned them into the kitchen.
“He’s just putting the last of the happy gas into the white room. Hopefully the morning rain will make everyone feel a little more relaxed.” Violet looked out the window. “It’s stopped again now. What if it doesn’t start again until after the trial?”
“I’ve been thinking about the rain showers,” Iris answered. “It appears to me the clouds are on a cycle. It seems to take a few hours for them to build back up again after a downpour. By my rough calculations, I think our next batch of rain is probably due just before the trial.”
“I forgot! Dad said that too,” Violet replied, feeling relieved.
“Iris has been busy while you were away.” Macula smiled.
“Yes, my old brain just needed a new challenge. I got our sound solution working too,” the old woman said, excitedly running over to a wooden radio sitting on the kitchen counter.
“Do you want me to demonstrate again?” Macula asked, looking inspired.
Iris Archer nodded enthusiastically, and Boy’s mother took a walkie-talkie from the kitchen table and slipped from the room.
Violet could hear her tread up the wooden stairs, then stop on the landing above. Iris looked at the pair, smiled, and turned on the radio.
“Testing, testing, one, two, three,” Boy’s mother’s voice rang out across the kitchen, as if she were standing in the room beside them.
“Now, when Edward and George confess their sins, all of Town will hear as well as see them!” Iris said, clapping her hands together, and looking both pleased and proud as she turned off the radio.
“That’s brilliant, Gran.” Boy smiled.
“There’s life in this old scientific dog yet,” Iris said, as Macula walked back into the kitchen. “Now, who’s hungry?”
Iris
poured out two bowls of soup and served it up with some thick, crusty bread.
“Get this into you, you have to be starving.”
“Where’s Mam and Anna?” Violet asked.
“They’re sleeping, pet, getting ready for the morning. You must both be exhausted too.”
Violet nodded, only just realizing how tired her body felt. She was just finishing her soup, and finding it hard to keep her eyes open, when there was a thud on the door.
Boy hid in the kitchen, as Iris walked slowly out into the hall.
“Who is it?” she called.
Someone laughed on the other side of the door.
“Open it, Granny!” Boy said, sprinting out to join her.
Violet followed and watched as Iris unlocked the door then rushed out into the Avenue.
“Give me a hand,” the old woman called over her shoulder.
Violet raced outside. Jack was lying on the cobbled street, laughing so hard he couldn’t stand up or even catch his breath.
Iris dashed back into the house, then returned to the street, holding a paper bag.
“Breathe into this,” she ordered.
Jack held the bag to his mouth and exploded with laughter once more.
Boy, Violet and Macula lifted their hysterical friend inside, and down the hall, sitting him on a chair in the kitchen. Macula held the bag over his mouth and he gradually calmed enough to breathe properly through it. When Boy’s mam finally removed the paper bag, Jack giggled for another while before collapsing forward onto the table, exhausted.
“You all need some sleep,” Iris said, looking at Jack. “Or none of you will be of any use tomorrow. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”
Iris handed Violet a blanket, and without a word she walked down the hall, past Hugo, who was still guarding the cupboard under the stairs, and collapsed onto the sitting-room couch.
It took moments for sleep to find her.
Violet woke to Boy’s whispered tones in the hallway.
She crawled up off the couch and looked out the sitting-room window. It was still dark, but she could no longer see the stars. The sky was gearing up for yet another downpour, and Violet hoped this one would ease a little of the tension that hung over Town.
The Trouble with Perfect Page 20