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Authors: Annie Dalton

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BOOK: Losing the Plot
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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.

Lola was quicker on the uptake. She was already running towards him. “The stupid boy’s taking his pain!” she shrieked.

Five times the man struck at the bear, and each time Reuben almost fell. But on the sixth blow someone caught the bear-keeper’s arm in midair.

“I think it’s had enough!” said a voice.

Everyone gasped, including me and Lola.

Nick calmly took the whip from Mister Muscles and my knees went to pure jelly with gratitude. Not only had he saved the bear, he’d saved my friend!

Nick might be a control freak, but he’s a born leader, I thought admiringly. He can just walk into any situation and change it to suit himself.

I could actually feel the crowd switching loyalties. Beside Nick, Mister Muscles just looked like a cowardly bully. Suddenly nobody wanted anything to do with him. People began drifting away, giving him dark looks.

We rushed over to Reuben, but he insisted he was fine.

Nick smiled at Mister Muscles. “It’s almost nightfall. Rest and let the beast rest too. And feed your little cubs while you’re about it. They look as if they need it.” He tossed some coins to Mister Muscles, who sullenly stowed them in his jerkin.

We watched the sad little circus trail down the alley to put up at The Fleece. Chance rejoined his mates, v. shame-faced.

Cat was glowing. “Nick, you were wonderful. That poor bear!”

We thought he was wonderful too. This was the
real
Nick. The boy Lola had watched sleeping. The boy with beautiful dreams.

“You see, Lollie,” I whispered. “It’s working. He’s improving already!”

Nick’s eyes slid away from Cat’s. “We’d better walk you home,” he sighed. “Unless you erm, changed your mind?” He gestured wistfully towards the gaming house.

I don’t believe you, Nick Ducket
, I thought.

Cat gave him a mischievous smile. “Oh well. Since I’m sure to get a beating, I may as well stay out and make a profit!”

She seemed genuinely cheerful, but I was confused. I just didn’t get Nick. Moments ago, he’d done a genuinely good deed. But it was like he couldn’t resist cashing in.

Lola’s right
, I thought miserably.
He’s always on the make
.

Cat suddenly noticed Chance. “Where have you been hiding?” she laughed. “You should have seen Nick! He actually took that oaf’s whip away!”

Chance forced a smile. “I saw the whole thing. I wanted to stop him myself,” he added apologetically “but I—”

“But you were puking your guts up,” Nick grinned. “We know.”

“Well, I’m fully recovered now and I’m very hungry!” Chance rubbed his belly, making fun of himself. “Didn’t I see a pie-man somewhere?”

“Just around the corner,” said Cat promptly “Maybe he’s still there.” She ran off, jingling coins

The minute she’d disappeared, Chance said urgently, “Nick, let’s walk Cat home, then perhaps she won’t get a beating. We’ve won enough for today.”

Nick’s eyes grew cold. “Enough for you, perhaps. I am a gentleman with a gentleman’s expenses.”

“Wouldn’t your father help?” Chance asked tentatively. “You’re not the first person to get into debt.”

“How would you know?” Nick sneered. “Without me, you’d be starving in the gutter. Yet when I ask you for help, it’s different.”

I couldn’t believe he was being so horrible. I’d want to punch anyone who spoke to me like that. But Chance just stood there, taking it. “Nick, you know I’d do anything,” he began.

“Mel!” Lola said urgently. “We’ve lost Reuben!”

We found our buddy in a squalid shelter in the tavern courtyard, giving the bear some angel TLC. He was singing under his breath as he tended its wounds. “You’re not alone,” he sang.

“You never told us you spoke bear,” Lola said softly.

“It’s not exactly bear,” Reuben answered. “It’s this language angels invented at the dawn of creation, to communicate with animals.”

The bear gave Reuben a jealous nudge.

“He wants to come back with us,” he explained. “I told him it’s not his time.”

The bear hung its head as if it understood.

On top of everything else, this was too much for Lola. Tears spilled down her face.

“Don’t cry, Lollie. It’ll be all right,” I comforted her. I wasn’t sure if I meant the bear, Nick’s appallingly selfish behaviour, or the ultimate success of our cosmic fact-finding trip.

“But it looks so lonely,” she wept.

“His name is Sackerson,” Reuben corrected her. “And he’s a very wise soul.”

By the time we’d dragged Reuben back to the gambling house, Cat had already lined up victim number two. She brought him over to the boys table, desperately trying to keep a straight face, but at the last minute someone barred their way.

“I’m Big Ned,” he slurred. “And this game is mine.”

He sat down heavily, almost missing the chair. The boys grinned. A drunk was even better! And this one had obviously been drinking for hours. He kept dozing off and the boys had to wake him to take his turn. He still won, of course.

But just as Nick was psyching himself up for the final phase of their sting, Big Ned had an alarming personality change. His lids lost their drunken droop and a cold little gleam appeared in his eyes.

He picked up the cards, shuffling so fast, it sounded like pigeons taking off. And with a flick of his wrist, he sent all fifty-two cards streaming through the air in a perfect arc.

Cat’s eyes went wide with alarm. “Run!” she hissed.

Two burly men appeared, grinning like crocodiles.

“Bad luck, young ‘uns,” Ned said cheerfully. “Tell you what, we’ll play again. Maybe Lady Fortune will smile on you.”

Nick was grey with shock. “We have no money!”

I recognised the “Find The Lady” con-man among Ned’s heavies. “You haven’t forgotten the rent money you put inside your shirt, young gentleman?” he said in his silky Irish voice. “Aah, well. Rufus here will help you find it.”

“These have to be the resident crooks,” Lola whispered.

“Yeah and I don’t think they appreciate amateurs on their turf,” I whispered back.

“We seen what you were up to this morning, young sirs,” said Ned in the same cheerful tone. “Rufus wanted a little chat, didn’t you, Rufus?”

Rufus glared, clenching his huge hands into fists.

Suddenly Ned grabbed Nick’s doublet, jerking him to his feet. “So now you’re back, I think we’ll have that private chat after all. Down by the river, where it’s nice and quiet.”

BOOK: Losing the Plot
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