by Joan Lennon
‘Thank you very much,’ she said politely. ‘Goodbye.’
‘Er, goodbye,’ chorused the other two.
The policeman watched as the three children headed off along the shattered remains of Talbot Street.
‘FUNNY; he muttered to himself. 7 THOUGHT THAT WAS A GIRLS’ SCHOOL.’
The policeman couldn’t remember exactly what he should be doing, which was odd, but he was fairly sure that standing about looking official had been part of it. So that was what he continued to do. He was still doing it when, a short while later, a man came up the steps towards him.
‘CAN I HELP YOU, SIR?’
The man didn’t answer. He must have a cold, thought the policeman, deducing this from the way the man was sniffing. That can bung up your ears something chronic. He mustn’t have heard me.
He reached out a big hand and tapped the stranger on the shoulder.
‘I SAID, CAN I – AAGGHHH!’
The man had snarled at him!
The policeman reared back, horrified.
‘Forget it,’ said the stranger, and then he turned and walked away. He was still sniffing in that peculiar way. Almost like a dog. A tracker dog.
Right, the policeman thought to himself, we’ll need a description of that one down in black and white. He pulled out a frayed notebook and an ancient pencil, and began to write.
‘Suspicious character observed. Middle height, middle-aged, middle…’
The policeman scratched his head with the pencil. He had only seen the man seconds ago – why couldn’t he remember what he looked like? Or sounded like, even? What had the man said to him?
Forget it.
That’s strange, thought the policeman. I have!
As they made their way back to the school, the three could see signs that the city was beginning to come back to life. More and more people were appearing all the time, and some had started to pick through the rubble in a dazed sort of way. A few even threw speculative glances at them as they hurried by.
‘They’re starting to notice things again,’ said Madlen. ‘And I think we’re going to be one of the things they notice first. We don’t belong here. I want to be well away before they decide to ask us questions we don’t know how to answer.’
There was an edge to her voice that made Bryn and Cam nervous.
‘OΚ,’ began Bryn carefully ‘you could be right about that. But –’
Madlen shook her head and just walked faster.
‘Not now,’ she said. ‘Not till I’m sure.’
They arrived at the front entrance of Swithin Street School sweaty and out of breath. The street was empty. Madlen started up the steps two at a time, but the others held back.
Madlen stopped at the shattered double doors and turned. She beckoned urgently to them to follow. Against his better judgement, Bryn took the first step. Cam was still hesitating when a voice broke the silence.
‘Hey! Who are you? You can’t go in there!’
‘RUN!’ yelled Madlen. ‘NOW!!’
Cam leapt as if stuck with a pin and Bryn practically flew the rest of the way to the doors. The voice – a woman’s – continued to call after them, but they didn’t look back.
‘Quick!’ muttered Madlen. ‘Hide here.’ She pulled them into the porter’s box just inside the main doors and they crouched down out of sight.
‘Children? Children! Come out of there. That building is clearly derelict! Where are your parents? Children?’
The woman came as far as the top of the steps, but made no attempt to follow them inside. After a while, she stopped calling, and then they heard her footsteps as she stumbled away.
Bryn let his breath go and turned to Madlen.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘What’s going on?’
Madlen gave the others a nervous smile and licked her lips.
‘It’s tricky, you know?’ she said. ‘And I could be wrong. But I don’t think so. To be honest, I pretty much know so. It’s just – it’s a surprisingly easy thing to make a mistake about, for a while anyway. And I did. Make a mistake about it.’
‘What kind of “it” are we talking here?’ asked Cam, confused, but Bryn was sitting up straight with his eyebrows disappearing into his hair.
Madlen took a deep breath and then let it out in jerks. ‘It’s the hatchet. From the train. Not the numbers. I was wrong.’
Cam’s jaw dropped and Bryn looked as if he were about to explode.
‘The hatchet from the train?’ he squeaked. ‘You mean you’re saying that’s the thing we’ve been supposed to be looking for? You mean it wasn’t the numbers at all, it was that stupid axe?!’ His voice was getting shriller and shriller. ‘You mean we could have got away yesterday? We could have just picked it up off the wall, caught the next train back to the London House and had tea?!’
Madlen hung her head. ‘I was so sure when I saw the Ribbon,’ she said. ‘It felt so right. But now it doesn’t. Now I think it’s the hatchet. And it fits with… stuff. Don’t you remember how Master Erick reacted…’ She paused. None of them wanted to think about Master Erick just yet. She drew a ragged breath and stood up. ‘Anyway, that’s why I have to go and get it. You two wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
But Cam grabbed her leg and pulled itself upright.
‘Not a chance,’ it said. ‘We stick together. Come on, Bryn.’
Bryn was still breathing hard with indignation, but he got up too. They could hear him muttering to himself as he followed them off down the corridor. ‘Could have gone home yesterday! I can’t believe it! We went through all that and we could have not even been there…’
Cam gave Madlen a nudge and a grin, and Madlen smiled weakly back.
‘This way’ she said. ‘My locker’s just along here.’
The corridor was as she had seen it the day before – relatively undamaged, but filthy and cold. She took out her key.
‘I’m going to unlock it now and take out the hatchet,’ she said breathlessly to the others. ‘Watch, and tell me what you see.’
She’d told them all about it before, at the church, but even so they were not prepared for the colours, the smells, the sounds, that were suddenly all around them, just out of focus. Just out of reach. Bryn and Cam were mesmerized by the strange double vision. But as soon as Madlen took the key out again, it was gone, and everything faded back into desolation and grey.
‘Bring it back!’ cried Cam. ‘I want to look some more!’
But Madlen shook her head.
‘I don’t want to just look at it,’ she said. ‘Just hear it, or smell it – I want to get through, get out of here – I want to get back!’ She took a deep breath. ‘All this – it’s so horrible – and we have to get back to them, to the London House – and this is where we do it. I don’t know how I know, but I just do. This is the way back – but I don’t know how?’ She ended on a wail.
‘OΚ, OK, let’s just think,’ said Bryn, trying to be calming. ‘The key lets us see, but only when it’s in the lock. When you take the key out of the lock, the stuff goes away. And that means…’
He ground to a halt.
‘Don’t look at me!’ said Cam. ‘I haven’t got a clue.’
‘So, what?’ Madlen was beginning to sound desperate. ‘What am I supposed to do? How are we supposed to get OUT!?’
There was a frantic pause, and then –’
Go crazy,’ said Bryn. ‘And then smash it.’
‘What?!’
‘With the hatchet. Like in the train, remember? You went berserk and smashed at the door, and that’s how we all got out. It worked last time.’
Madlen looked appalled.
‘But I can’t just go berserk,’ she wailed. ‘Not in cold blood, for no reason, just out of the blue like that.’
She slumped down against the lockers. The other two joined her.
There was a discouraged silence.
After a while, Cam asked, ‘Madlen?’
‘Hmm?’
‘What
were you thinking about? In the train, I mean. Just before you flipped into crazy mode? Do you remember?’
Madlen chewed her lip for a moment. ‘I was thinking,’ she said slowly, ‘about you two. About how I didn’t want the zombies to, you know, suck the life out of you –’
Bryn made a choking noise. ‘Zombies do that?’ he gargled.
‘Yeah,’ said Cam. ‘Didn’t you know?’
He shook his head.
‘What did you think they were trying to do to us, then?’ exclaimed Madlen, amazed.
Bryn was quite pale now. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I just thought they were a bit, you know, over-friendly… Sucking – that’s gross!!’
There was another silence, in which Madlen peered gloomily at the hatchet in her hands and Bryn looked as if he were going to be sick. After a while, Cam leaned back its head and looked up. It stared fixedly and its whole body went stiff.
‘Madlen?’
No answer.
Cam coughed, a very quiet, I’m-not-really-making-any-noise-at-all kind of cough, and then, a little louder, said again, ‘Madlen?’
‘What?’
Cam swallowed, audibly. ‘Don’t look now,’ it said, ‘but I think the roof’s about to cave in –’
‘WHAT!!!’
Madlen screamed, leapt to her feet, swirled round and slammed the hatchet into the locker door, narrowly missing Cam’s head.
There was a nauseating shiver in the place where they stood and –
24
Ten Tears Ago, Day Before Yesterday
‘Miss Worthing? Miss Brack wants to see you, right away…’
The Server’s voice trailed off and her eyes went wide at the sight of Bryn and Cam, not to mention the state of Madlen’s uniform.
‘But… they’re not allowed in here!’ she gasped. ‘No visitors beyond the front lobby.’ She leaned towards Madlen and whispered daringly, ‘Who are they?’
‘They’re family.’ Madlen answered as best she could, given that her voice was only just under her control. ‘And you can go now. I’ve got the message about Miss Brack.’
The Server nodded and hurried away Madlen brought the hatchet out from behind her back, where she had been hiding it. She took off her blazer and wrapped it up into a bundle.
‘The front lobby’s at the end of that corridor, then turn left,’ she said, shoving the bundle into Bryn’s arms. ‘Through the swing doors. I’ll meet you there, once I’ve seen Miss Brack…’
Smoothing down her skirt and trying to tidy her hair at the same time, Madlen scuttled off.
Cam and Bryn went along the corridor she’d indicated, through the swing doors and into the lobby. Everything was polished, tidy, aggressively clean – as different from the dereliction they had just left as it could possibly be. They sat on a bench against the wall and listened to the indistinct buzz of life that was a genteel girls’ school in action.
After a moment Bryn looked over at Cam.
‘Was it really?’ he asked quietly. ‘Was the roof really just about to cave in?’
Cam looked smug.
‘Nope,’ it said.
‘And who’s a clever little toerag?’ asked Bryn.
‘Me,’ said Cam.
They grinned at each other and were still. They were both too tired to talk, to think, even to worry.
It was peaceful.
Then they looked up and Madlen was standing there in front of them.
‘There’s a car being sent for me,’ she said, and they noticed how strange her voice sounded. ‘Apparently my mother wants to see me.’
Cam frowned, puzzled.
‘What – again?’ it said.
Madlen slumped down on the bench beside them and stared at the floor.
‘Not again,’ she said. ‘This is the first time. Apparently. A parent ly. Very funny. Boom boom.’
Cam and Bryn exchanged looks.
‘Don’t you get it?!’ hissed Madlen suddenly. ‘Don’t you see? It’s the day before yesterday morning – no, it’s ten years ago day before yesterday morning, and we haven’t even met yet and we’re going to have to do it all over again, and all those people are… are zombies again, except the hatchet won’t be there this time because it’s here because I took it away…’
She ran out of breath and just sat there, shaking.
‘Do you understand this?’ Bryn said aside to Cam.
Cam shook its head. ‘I think we need to get her back to Mrs Mac and Kate,’ it said quietly. ‘Back to the London House.’
Bryn nodded.
‘Do we go now,’ he said, ‘or do we wait for this car?’
Cam looked at Madlen anxiously.
‘Better wait for the car,’ it said. ‘I don’t think she’s up to a trek across the city just yet.’
‘Yeah,’ said Bryn. ‘They won’t be expecting us, though, will they? Whoever’s driving the car, I mean. Could be tricky, that…’ He leaned his chin on his hands, his elbows on his knees.
The front door swung open and a man with a cap looked in.
‘Madlen Worthing?’ he asked.
‘Um,’ said Cam.
‘You Madlen Worthing?’ said the man.
‘No, this is Madlen.’ Bryn pointed.
‘But we’re supposed to come with her,’ added Cam hurriedly.
The man shrugged.
‘Fine by me,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’
25
Back, and Between
As they tumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen, there was no one there.
Then Mrs Mac came out of the larder, her arms full of food.
‘Look who’s here!’ she smiled. ‘So you found your way to my kitchen, did you? Good for you. Give me a hand unloading here, will y –’
Her smile died away at the look of horror on their faces. She frowned, and her lips moved as if she were silently going over a conversation in her mind.
‘We’ve done that bit already, haven’t we,’ she murmured to herself.
She shook her head vigorously and banged at it with the heel of her hand.
‘Mrs Mac?’ quavered Madlen.
Mrs Macmahonney gave an enormous sneeze and then said, a little tentatively, ‘What? Back already?’
Before she could say anything else, Madlen burst into tears and threw herself into the big woman’s arms.
‘There, there,’ Mrs Mac crooned at the sobbing girl. ‘It’s all right. I’ve caught up now. And here you are, successful I’m sure, and the job done so quickly you’re back almost before you left. I’m a stupid old woman and I’ll be mixing my quantum flux with my zebra crossing before you know it…’ She continued to pat Madlen’s back in a comforting way and said to the others, ‘Get the kettle on and then we’ll all be feeling better.’
They did as they were told. It wasn’t long before Madlen had cried herself out and then, all together at the big kitchen table, the three of them told Mrs Macmahonney about Fred and Master Erick and the computers and the leak and the zombies and the key. It took quite a while because they kept interrupting each other, and arguing, and setting each other right. And, surprisingly, laughing. None of it had seemed funny at the time, but telling it over now – well, it was different.
Mrs Macmahonney listened and exclaimed, and smiled secretly to herself at the changes she could see in the three.
Then, when they were finally finished talking, she just sat, thoughtfully fingering the hatchet that Madlen had given over to her to see.
‘Isn’t that clever,’ she murmured. ‘Isn’t that surprising. Not at all what you might expect. Not at all.’
‘Is she talking about that blasted hatchet, or us?’ whispered Bryn to Madlen.
Madlen shook her head and lifted a shoulder. She seemed almost back to normal now, but there was still a question she needed to ask.
‘Mrs Mac?’ she said softly.
‘Yes, dear?’ said Mrs Macmahonney absently.
Madlen gulped. ‘Will we have to do it all over again?’
/> Mrs Mac shook herself. ‘Hmm? Do what all over again?’ she asked.
‘All of it – the stuff we just did,’ said Madlen. Then everything came out in a rush. ‘The whole thing – I mean, if it was, what, two days ago we were at the school, no, I was at the school, and Kate sent for me, and then just now, all of us were at the school and Kate sent for me and it was two days ago, except that it wasn’t, because the others were there, and they couldn’t be – well, does that mean we have to go in the train and meet Fred and the grey people and…’
‘No.’ Mrs Mac’s quiet voice cut across the rising panic. ‘It doesn’t work that way. The leak is sealed; the hatchet is in your hand – well, in my hand; Frederick is back with his parents. That Future can go on from then, and, I hope, heal itself. You’ve bought them another chance, and you’ve bought yourself a little time. Which –’ and she sniffed slightly – ‘I suggest you use immediately to get a touch more fragrant. And then a good long rest. I need to do some thinking, and your mother… well, as I say, there’s thinking to be done. Meantime –’
Mrs Macmahonney picked up the hatchet and walked over to the far side of the kitchen. She seemed to blur slightly on the way, but that could just have been their tiredness seeing things. There was a microwave on the counter which she opened and then, weirdly, she shoved the hatchet in, set the timer for sixty-four seconds, shut the door and pressed the button marked ‘High’.
‘What –!’
‘You can’t do –!’
‘It’ll fuse –!’
She ignored them.
PING!
Mrs Macmahonney opened the door and brought out the hatchet. She juggled it and blew on her fingers. ‘Hot!’ she exclaimed.
But it was more than just hot. It was tiny.
‘You… shrank it!?’ spluttered Cam. ‘In a microwave!?’
Mrs Mac nodded cheerfully. She was busy threading the miniature hatchet on to some string. ‘This’ll make it easier to carry about, Madlen.’ She caught sight of their expressions. ‘Well, you can’t just leave something like that lying around! It’s sharp…’ She finished tying a knot in the string to her satisfaction and then held the makeshift necklace out.
‘Come on! In fact, all of you come on,’ she said. ‘No, not that side – come along the other side of the table. To me. That’s right!’