by Joan Lennon
Cam walked over to the door and grabbed the handle.
‘No! You can’t just barge in! You should knock!’ hissed Madlen. She lunged at Cam, just as the door swung open, so that the two of them fell together into…
… another empty room.
Bryn peered in after them. ‘No food,’ he said. ‘No one to ask. Wrong again! Come on.’ He left.
Cam and Madlen stood in the doorway and looked at each other.
‘I was sure…’ began Cam slowly, when a man brushed past them. He was in a hurry; he was wearing peculiar clothes; and he had come from the empty room.
‘OH!’ The man stopped in mid-step and turned to look at them. ‘Oh. Oh dear. I do beg your pardon. I was late for my class, you see, so I took a short cut. It’s frowned on, of course, utterly frowned on. You’re Present, aren’t you – this is really not allowed. I would appreciate it so much if you didn’t mention it? To anyone?’
‘Don’t worry. We won’t tell!’ Bryn had come up behind the man.
‘OHΗ! More of you! Oh my! Oh… thank you. I must say…’ The man scurried across the hall and into another of the rooms.
The children looked at each other.
‘Why didn’t you ask him where the kitchen was?’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘He came out of nowhere!’
As they walked away, the door to the empty room swung shut with a bang, and immediately, faint sounds of an argument breaking out could be heard. The children froze.
‘This is creepy!’ muttered Cam. ‘I don’t like this at all.’
‘Then why don’t you just look in your crystal ball, or whatever you Dalrodians use, and figure out where the kitchen is!’ sneered Bryn.
‘At my school, we don’t think it’s clever to be rude,’ said Madlen smugly. ‘I guess it’s different on Kir. You probably don’t even have schools.’
‘Oooo, stop, you’re hurting my feelings!’ Bryn was going to each door in turn and dragging them open, until…
‘Stairs!’ he crowed. ‘Kitchen’s bound to be down here.’
He looked around at the other two.
‘Hurry up!’ he said.
Cam grabbed Madlen’s arm and they ran.
They clattered down some stairs and into a large basement room that might have belonged to another house altogether. It was warm, and cosy, and full of comfortable and comforting things. This included a large table covered with food.
‘Look who’s here!’
A warm-looking, smiley woman came out of the larder with her arms full of even more good things to eat.
‘So you found your way to my kitchen, did you? Good for you. Give me a hand unloading here.’
They helped her set the things out on the table and then stood back, suddenly uncertain.
‘Well, let me have a look at you,’ the woman said. ‘Well, well. You wouldn’t know you were a family, would you, not just by looking, but then I can see a bit of Kate in each and every one of you and that’s a fact. And you’ll be Madlen and you’re Bryn and you’re wee Cam. And I’m Mrs Macmahonney, so you must call me Mrs Mac, for that’s what everyone calls me round here. She’s coming soon, your mother – she’s been recalled, you know – but she doesn’t know you’ll be here, for you aren’t expected for another ten years at least. It’s this backwash, of course – very worrying! The letters went out in her name, obviously, but…’
Mrs Macmahonney’s warm cuddly voice faded away. Three numb-looking children stared at her. She stared back, a look of horror growing across her face.
‘Nobody’s told you, have they,’ she said at last. ‘You didn’t know.’
4
… and Relatively Stranger
Before anyone could say another word, one side of the kitchen began to hum. And flash. And make urgent buzzing noises.
Mrs Mac groaned.
‘I’m sorry, children,’ she said. ‘It’ll have to wait. That’s the dinner rush!’
If they’d noticed them at all, the children would probably have assumed the doors along the wall were just a lot of labelled cupboards. They’d have been wrong.
‘They’re a bit like dumb waiters, if you know what those are,’ explained Mrs Mac, as she began sliding doors open and pulling out order sheets. ‘This kitchen feeds the whole of the London House, and that means a lot of meals. And –’ as she grabbed sheets from behind the next two doors – ‘in spite of everything I can do to encourage using the randomization of the Space-Time Continuum, everybody still wants dinner at the same time!’ She thrust order sheets at them. ‘Thanks! You’ll find everything you need on the table. Don’t try to do more than one at a time, though – it’s easy to get in a muddle.’
Mrs Mac hurled herself at the next door, which had moved beyond polite beeping and had started to glow red in a demanding way.
Bryn read the label: PRELATES’ LOUNGE.
They must really be hungry, he thought.
Then, for a while, they were too busy to think. The menus were as varied as their destinations, NORTHERN PROVINCES TRAINEE CLASS A had a huge order for fish and chips and mushy peas, but Mrs Mac altered that one. ‘Nothing I cook is mushy,’ she said, and gave them salad instead. Some of the other training classes asked for things like shepherd’s pie and lamb stew and great bowls of mashed potato and stir-fried veg. ‘They’re at that age,’ Mrs Macmahonney said fondly. ‘Hollow legs, every one of them. I do love cooking for teenagers!’ The COURIERS sent for sandwiches and thermoses of coffee and tea – Tacked lunches, night after night,’ she sighed, tucking in some extra fruit and biscuits.
‘What exactly is coddled mutton head?’ asked Cam, holding up a sheet.
‘Oh now, isn’t that just what I was saying?’ tutted Mrs Macmahonney. ‘There’s absolutely no need whatsoever for the EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY TRAINING CLASS to be eating again just now. Just leave the EXOTICS to me, dearie. I’ll know who’s for what, and who shouldn’t be, if you follow.’
A silver tray with one boiled egg, three slices of toast and a dish of curled slivers of butter had been prepared for the PERIODIC GENTLEMAN.
‘Who’s he?’ Bryn managed to ask Mrs Mac in passing.
‘A damned nuisance,’ she replied. ‘Pardon my French.’
By the time the flurry was over, the kitchen table was practically bare. The workers collapsed into chairs, panting a little.
‘Thank you,’ said Mrs Macmahonney. ‘That was splendid. It’s been a while since I’ve had help.’ She snorted. ‘Funny how quickly people stop coming to see me at certain times of the day.’ She straightened up. ‘But you don’t want to talk about that. You want to know why I said what I did when you came in. About you being a family.’
The three nodded.
Mrs Macmahonney heaved a deep sigh and sat up straighten ‘I’m sure there are perfectly good reasons why no one has mentioned any of this before,’ she began, ‘though I’m sure I don’t know what they are, and there are also extremely good reasons for why you were… what I mean is, the situation is very serious, and complicated, and you three, well! Though it certainly isn’t my place to be explaining any of that –’
‘Just give us the facts,’ said Madlen, in a strange voice that didn’t sound like hers.
Mrs Mac heaved a great sigh. ‘Right. Of course. The facts are, you are all related. You have the same mother, but different fathers. You were –’
‘You’re needed, Mrs Mac. Upstairs.’
A girl poked her head round the door and then was gone.
Mrs Macmahonney looked down at her hands for a moment, took a deep breath and let it out again.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.’
She heaved herself out of her chair and headed off up the stairs.
In the silence that followed, the three children looked uncertainly at each other. Madlen seemed shell-shocked. Bryn had turned red, and Cam’s eyes had become enormous.
‘Well! A family! That’s going to take some getting used to,’
Bryn began heartily. He turned to Madlen. ‘I never had a sister before.’ Then he turned to Cam. ‘Or a…’ An uncertain look came over his face. ‘Or a… sibling of any sort.’
Cam didn’t seem to notice the boy’s hesitation. ‘I’ve got friends with sibs at home,’ the Dalrodian said. ‘It’s OK, really, except they try to chew your stuff a lot when they’re little.’
‘Sounds like puppies!’ Bryn laughed, too loudly.
‘A family,’ said Madlen in a flat voice. A mother and a brother and…’ She too hesitated as she looked at Cam.
‘You know –’ she began, and stopped. They were no longer alone.
There, standing in the doorway, was a vision of black leather and gravity-defying curves. A gust of perfume washed across the room, and you could have sworn there was a bass beat coming from somewhere subliminal. Boom – bapa – boom – bapa… She took a few steps into the room and spoke.
‘Hi, kids – Mrs Mac about? Oh, there you are,’ the vision said, turning as Mrs Macmahonney trotted back into the kitchen and skidded to a halt. ‘I’ve been recalled – no reason, just Get Your Botty Back To Base. And being the good little Agent I am, voilà! Here I am. Any idea what the fuss is about?’
Mrs Macmahonney seemed to have been struck speechless. All she could do was nod in a strangled sort of way at the children.
The vision looked from her, to them, bemused.
‘New recruits?’ she asked.
Meanwhile, the children were putting two and two together, and coming up with…
‘Mother?’ mouthed Bryn silently.
‘Wow…’ murmured Cam.
All Madlen could do was stare.
Mrs Macmahonney managed to find her voice.
‘Katharine,’ she said hoarsely, ‘I’d like to introduce Madlen, Bryn and Cam. Your –’
‘Oh my giddy aunt, if’s the children!’ yelped the vision. ‘They’re early – they must be early – they’re ten years early – why wasn’t I told!?!’
There was an eye-watering distortion in the light and the leather sex bomb morphed into someone wearing what could only be described as a frock. And a cardy. The curves had gone south in a big way.
‘Yurgggg,’ gargled Madlen.
The frock-and-cardy looked down.
‘I see your point,’ she said. ‘Too far by half.’
There was another shimmy of light and then…
‘How’s this?’
Their mother stood before them now wearing jeans and a soft shirt, with a body that had seen some use but was not yet dragging on the floor.
‘Much better,’ said Madlen with relief.
‘It’s OK,’ agreed Bryn.
Only Cam seemed disappointed.
‘I liked it better the way you looked before.’
Kate laughed. She reached out, as if to ruffle Cam’s hair, but then pulled back. She was nervous, that much was plain.
Mrs Macmahonney cleared her throat.
‘Just why did they not know about you, Katharine? Or each other?’ Her voice was very quiet, and even without knowing her, the children could tell this was a danger sign.
‘Not my choice,’ said Kate, hands held up defensively. ‘It was a Council decision – they didn’t want the children tampered with until they were ready to train, here, at the London House.’
‘Which was to have been…?’
Kate was becoming more and more distressed. ‘Look,’ she said huskily. ‘None of this was my doing – I mean, the arrangements. It all happened years ago. I didn’t know anything about anything in those days. I’d only just graduated – I must have been the most junior Agent around! All I knew was what they told me. They told me it was important. They said it was better if the children were left alone to grow up as normally as could be arranged, and then, when they were ready, they’d bring them here. When they were ready to understand what was being asked of them. And in the meantime, they said that… that it would be better if I had no contact with them whatsoever.’
‘And you agreed?’ asked Madlen sharply.
The woman looked down.
‘I did,’ she said in a low voice. She looked up again suddenly and, almost as if she were pleading, said, ‘I was very young at the time.’
‘Older than us,’ said Madlen. She looked at her mother and her face was hard.
Kate drew a deep breath to speak.
‘Katharine? You’re supposed to report in.’
A man stood in the doorway. He seemed embarrassed and unwilling to intrude any more than he had to. Madlen couldn’t help noticing he had beautiful hair.
Kate sighed. ‘Right. Thanks, Ben. You back for long?’
The Agent shrugged. ‘I guess. I’ve only just been recalled. This backwash is a killer! Good to have you home, though. Nice meal, Mrs Mac!’
Mrs Macmahonney lifted a hand in acknowledgement.
As the Agent turned to leave, he added awkwardly, ‘Nice to have you kids here too!’ And left.
‘How does he know about us,’ asked Cam, ‘when we don’t know about us?!’
Kate shook her head. ‘I can’t explain any more now,’ she said. ‘I have to report in. And you need to sleep. It’s been quite a day for you.’ She smiled at them, desperately trying to get them to smile back.
No one did.
Mrs Macmahonney took over.
‘Right, Katie my dear, off you go,’ she ordered. ‘I’ll see to the children. Come back to me when you can and we’ll talk.’
Kate hesitated for a moment, as if hoping for something. Then, abruptly, she turned to go. Just as she reached the door, Bryn called out, ‘We’ll see you tomorrow, then?’
She turned and gave him a grateful look. ‘You will,’ she said. ‘You definitely will!’
And then she was gone.
Madlen gave Bryn an angry glare, but he only shrugged.
‘No more talking, now,’ said Mrs Macmahonney firmly. ‘It’s some food and a hot drink and bed for the three of you. Come on.’
She bustled them about, and they were all suddenly too tired and bewildered to resist. And sooner than they would have thought possible, she was herding them up a back staircase to the top of the House. A row of tiny attic rooms opened off a white corridor, each holding no more than a clean warm bed, a light and a chair.
‘Goodnight now,’ Mrs Macmahonney called. ‘If you need me, you know where I am.’
As she started to undress, Madlen felt something small and hard in her blazer pocket. She put in her hand, pulled out a key – and instantly, in her mind, she was back at school.
Miss Gerard, one of the teachers, was speaking to her.
‘Why are you still in uniform? Well, there’s no time now – the car’s here for you. You’d better get your blazer from your locker on the way out.’
They’d walked together, down to the corridor near the front door, to locker thirty-seven. Madlen had unlocked it, taken out her blazer, put it on, shut and relocked the door.
Not once had Miss Gerard looked directly at her.
It’s as if I’m already gone, thought Madlen. I already don’t exist.
And, in a tiny act of defiance, she had pocketed the key.
She stared down at it now.
She’d always hated school. She’d hated having to constantly pretend to be a good little Echelon candidate, keep her temper under control, keep her thoughts out of sight. But now…
… now all she wanted was to be back there, in her own bed. Back home.
Once started, the tears were unstoppable.
*
Bryn’s preparations for bed involved taking off his shoes, and little else. He lay on the bed and thought for a time. It was strange, having a room to himself. He was used to the festerings’ dorm. He thought about his new mother. In his World, mothers were something boys did without for the most part – pleasant but distant figures who lived someplace else. Kate was news to him, but she fitted a familiar pattern. After a while he checked to make sure the door was shut, then pulled out a s
mall sketchbook and a pencil, and began to draw.
‘Bryn? Whatcha drawing?’
Cam had pushed his door open again, silently, and stood there, looking at him.
‘Not!’ he snarled, stuffing the notebook fiercely into his shirt. ‘What do you think I am – a girl?!’
Cam looked astonished and squeaked, ‘Why would I think you’re a girl?’ but Bryn was already backing down.
‘Nothing,’ he muttered. ‘Sorry. You shouldn’t sneak up on people, that’s all.’ He stood up. ‘Look… truce. OK?’ He stuck out his hand and, cautiously, Cam gave it a shake.
Cam was lonely and cold. The skylight was propped open, but no one came to shut it. At home, open windows let in the cool breezes, but it was different here. Ivory would have made everything all right, but Ivory was a World away. The Dalrodian didn’t undress, just climbed into the bed and lay there, eyes wide in the dark, shivering.
Time passed. At last, high in the London House, three children slept.
5
Emergency!
‘Breakfast!’
‘All right!’ yodelled Bryn, and Cam called out to Madlen, ‘Are you up yet? It’s breakfast – Madlen?’
‘Coming,’ Madlen called back. ‘You go ahead – I’ll be right there.’
They clattered off down the stairs, and Madlen finished making her bed. A last look showed her a room as tidy as when she’d entered it. As she came out into the corridor, she couldn’t resist peeking into the others’ rooms.
Surprisingly, Bryn’s was as pristine as her own. Cam’s room, however, was a mess. Bedclothes trailed over the floor; the chair had been shoved behind the door; and the skylight was left propped open, in spite of a threateningly grey sky overhead. Madlen shut it.
There’d been girls like that at school. The ones who came from rich families, where there was always a nanny or a servant or somebody else to do the picking up. Girls like that… but Cam…?
Madlen shook her head and started thoughtfully down the stairs.
*
As she entered the kitchen, the other two were already eating. And arguing.