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Authors: Annie Dalton

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BOOK: Winging It
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Orlando grinned. “Hiya Celia! How’s it going?

For the first time I realised that the tube station was full of Earth angels, all wearing elegant 1940s clothes.

“Splendidly, thanks,” Celia was saying. “Luckily you’ve come on a quiet night. Absolutely no sign of You Know Who!”

And she and Orlando launched into one of those advanced angel conversations which I totally couldn’t follow.

“So what are we supposed to do, exactly?” I asked Amber.

She looked surprised. “Just be yourself, of course.”

But Celia’s glamorous army made me feel totally inadequate. I felt like some sad girl who was only pretending to be an angel. I looked around for Lola who was still cooing to her toddler.

I can’t do this
, I panicked.
I shouldn’t have come
.

Then I saw Molly.

She couldn’t have been more than six years old, but she had the wisest eyes I’ve ever seen on a human being. The other kids were all in big family groups. Molly was just with her mother. Her mum was really young and full of beans, more like a big sister really - kidding around and pulling her daughter’s pixie hood over her eyes.

“I want you to tell me a story,” Molly kept saying.

“Slave driver,” sighed her mum. She put on a posh voice. “All right, which story does Modom require?”

Molly’s mum was a wicked storyteller. Her version of The Princess and the Pea was a hoot.

With a brilliant flash of inspiration, I saw how I could make myself useful. I crept up really close to Molly and her mum, linked myself up with my power supply and began radiating lovely vibes.

Other kids began to edge closer. Soon Molly’s mum had a crowd of spellbound children lapping up every word. I decided I could get seriously hooked on being an angel. Between us, we’d created this charmed circle, and suddenly everyone was desperate to be inside it.

All at once, the ground shook as there was another super-massive explosion overhead. You could see people shudder, wondering if it was their street, their house, which had caught the blast. Without missing a beat, Molly’s mum carried right on describing how the old queen made up the bed with twenty quilts and twenty feather beds. Somehow she kept all the kids, and some of the adults, listening, and she didn’t stop until she reached the part where everyone got to live happily ever after.

“Go on, missus,” said one of the older kids wistfully. “Tell us another.”

Ah, this is SO sweet
, I thought. Then I almost jumped out of my skin. Scary Celia was standing right next to me!

“Well done, dear,” she was saying crisply. “When humans and divine personnel work together, that’s when miracles happen!”

I looked round to see who she was talking to. But she meant me!

“Keep up the good work!” said Celia, then whisked away down the platform to terrify someone else.

 

Chapter Nine

T
hat night our shelter absolutely rocked!
But at last the enemy planes went droning away towards the English Channel and everyone could get some sleep

Just before dawn, I glanced up and saw Orlando watching over a sleeping soldier.

“Poor guy came back to find his house a pile of rubble,” he said. “No-one can tell him where his family’s gone.

The man’s eyelids began to flicker, and his exhausted face took on a strangely peaceful expression.

“He’s dreaming,” I said softly.

“He used to be a gardener before he went off to fight,” Orlando said softly. “I thought he could use a restful garden dream.”

“You can send
dreams
?” I breathed.

He gave me one of his heart melting smiles. “It’s no big deal. I’ll teach you some time - if you’re interested.”

Neither of us spoke after that, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. Actually, it was lovely.

Morning came and people began to stir, gathering up babies and belongings.

“Button your coat, Moll,” her mum grumbled. “I’ve got to be at work in half an hour.”

“My fingers won’t wake up,” Molly complained.

I felt really sad as they hurried away. I’d watched over them all night. I’d come to know their hopes and fears as well as my own. Perhaps tuning into human thoughts sounds like some major celestial ability? But the fact is, once you’re an angel it’s impossible not to. Their thoughts just jump out at you like radio waves.

That’s how I knew that Molly’s dad had been killed in action, less than six months ago. Now she and her mum were all alone.

I’d lost my dad too when I was Molly’s age. He didn’t die though, he left. And I know this is corny, but for ages after that, I was terrified Mum would leave too. One time she was late picking me up from school, and it was like my whole world had totally crumbled to pieces. Perhaps because of that I had a good idea what Molly was going through.

Lola nudged me. “Control to Melanie,” she teased.

I tried to raise a smile. “Sorry I was miles away,” I admitted.

At that moment, Celia wafted up. “I probably won’t need you chaps down here again until tonight,” she said in her cut glass accent. “Why not go and make yourselves useful upstairs?”

“Excellent,” crowed Lola. “We can be time-tourists!”

We emerged into a November dawn. It was wonderful to breathe the damp London air after our long night underground.

“Omigosh,” gasped Amber suddenly.

A family were eating breakfast in their living room. Dad in his collar and tie, Mum in her apron, plus three little kids, all politely sipping tea and passing the toast and margarine. It was like a scene from a 1940s picture book, except for one little thing. The front had been blown clean off their house.

I closed my eyes for a moment, as I remembered Reuben saying, “But what’s war
for
?”

Lola had both hands pressed tightly to her mouth. “Whatever kind of bomb does that?” she whispered.

“The Germans have started sending over these weird buzz bombs,” Ferdy explained earnestly. “They’re like aircraft, except they don’t have pilots. They just point them in the right direction, then when they arrive - BOOM!”

“My Great Nan called them doodlebugs,” I said. “She said the first time one came over their house, she almost wet herself.” I had a sudden thought. “Ferdy,” I said, “how come you know so much stuff about 1944?”

When Ferdy tosses his hair about, it means he’s going to say something wildly superior. “Don’t you ever use the Link?”

“Me?” I bluffed. “Never! I prefer to like, improvise.”

“Boo, you are so-o bad!” giggled Lola.

Everywhere, we saw constant reminders of the war; queues outside food shops, sticky tape over the windows, sandbags in doorways. But instead of letting themselves be crushed by all these depressing changes to their way of life, people somehow managed to spring up again like daisies which I thought was unbelievably amazing.

I don’t want you to think we were just being time-tourists. Lola and I spent hours taking care of a really good-looking fireman, while his mates dug him out from under a pile of rubble.

He was actually quite young. As Lola said, he was more of a fireboy really. His name was Stan and he’d been searching a bombed house for survivors when the roof fell in. He was in a lot of pain, but he kept up a stream of daft jokes.

Finally the other firemen lifted him free. As the ambulance doors closed, we heard Stan yell, “Tell those two pretty girls to wait for me, do you hear?”

“Poor Stan,” muttered one of his mates. “He’s really concussed.”

I immediately jumped up, tugging down my dress as far as it would go.


Lollie
!” I protested. “I can’t believe I’ve been sitting here in this little dress and Stan the fireman could actually SEE me!”

Then we heard a low growl in the distance.

“Oh-oh, I think that’s a buzz bomb,” I said.

“One flying bomb’s not so bad,” said Amber brightly.

Ferdy looked nervous. “Actually, they send them in relays.”

People were already hurrying for the nearest shelter.

The siren began its stomach-churning wail.

As the bomb came nearer, the air was literally juddering with vibration, as if it was compressing itself into some terrifying new element. I think Orlando saw how scared I was, because he suddenly grabbed my hand.

“We’ll do this the easy way,” he yelled. “Touch your angel tags and focus on the shelter. On a count of three. One, two - three!”

I obediently shut my eyes and FLASH! We were back underground, as everyone came fleeing down from the street.

BOOM! The first buzz bomb exploded overhead.

Celia appeared, looking wonderfully chic. “Chaos, isn’t it?” she said. “Let’s see what we can do for the poor dears, shall we?”

In the middle of beaming angel vibes at the traumatised Londoners, I suddenly registered that Orlando was standing really close to me. I tried hard not to dwell on the fact that he’d recently held my hand.

“How did you do that cool fast-forward trick?” I murmured.

Orlando sighed. “Mel, you really ought to read your Handbook!”

I sternly reminded myself to focus. It sounds a bit hippie-dippie, but transmitting angelic vibes in a crisis is actually just common sense. Negative emotions make it that much easier for the Opposition to home in.

For some reason I kept looking up hopefully every time a new arrival came down into the shelter. At last the stream of humans gradually slowed to a trickle, and as the third buzz bomb exploded overhead, I finally realised what was bothering me.

Molly and her mum. They weren’t here.

In an instant of total, blinding clarity, I suddenly knew Molly was in danger.

I’ve got to go to her
, I thought.

Unnervingly, Orlando read my thoughts and immediately put his foot down. “You know the score, Mel,” he said firmly. “No heroes, no stars. Just links in a divine chain. Those are the rules.”

I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I’m not trying to be a hero, really I’m not. But Molly’s only six and she’s all alone in an air raid. I saw her. Orlando, it’s like I’m meant to save her or something. It’s -it’s -” I searched desperately for the right words, “A genuine cosmic emergency!”

Orlando was not remotely impressed. “Remember that time outside the Sanctuary? Those agents had a cosmic emergency too. And the Opposition picked them all off like apples.”

I totally lost my temper then. “Well, EXCUSE me,” I yelled. “But I think a little girl is more important than some old
rule
!”

“Boo,” Lola whispered. “Everyone’s looking.”

Celia’s angels were staring in horror. It was like being back at school, only a billion times worse. Plus now even my best friend was against me.

“I know it must seem harsh,” said Orlando quietly.

“Not harsh,” I said through gritted teeth. “Inhuman.”

Orlando’s calm expression didn’t flicker. “Just get on with your work, Mel, OK?”

I stared at him. Couldn’t he see that Molly and her mother
were
my work? At that moment I honestly didn’t feel like I had a choice. I’d just have to take care of this by myself. I sneaked a last yearning look at Orlando. Get real, Mel, I told myself. A gorgeous angel genius and an airhead with attitude? It was never going to happen!

I didn’t try to hide what I was doing. In front of everybody, I touched my angel insignia, and focused on Molly with all my heart.

FLASH! I was outside a terrace of tall thin houses in the fading light.

A weird-looking aircraft hovered at rooftop level. Angry flames jetted out of its ugly backside. A distinctive buzz-bomb growl filled the air. Then it stopped and there was a deathly hush.

The buzz bomb dropped behind the terrace like a stone. Then BOOM! The whole world came crashing down. Jagged shards of glass, clouds of brick dust, actual bricks, half a chimney pot.

Forgetting that I wasn’t human, I instinctively dived into a doorway, then felt hugely embarrassed.
Hello! You’re an immortal being?
I reminded myself.
Get a grip angel girl!

At the same moment I heard a scared whimper. “Mum? Mum?”

I scanned the street, until I saw a basement door swinging on its hinges.

“Hold on Molly!” I called though I knew she couldn’t hear me. “I’m coming.”

I found her crouching under the kitchen table. “Come home, Mum,” she whimpered to herself. “Please don’t be dead, Mum. I’ll make you a cup of tea just how you like it. Please don’t be dead, Mum.”

I couldn’t bear it. I completely forgot I was an angel.

“You don’t have to be scared. I’m here now,” I said softly.

But as I reached for her, I caught a stealthy flicker of movement in the hall, just the tiniest flicker, and suddenly it was impossible to breathe.

And I heard a voice so intimate that it seemed like I had known it for ever.

“Hi Molly,” it said. “Don’t be scared. I’ve come to take you down to the shelter.”

All the tiny hairs rose on my neck.

A boy was lounging in the doorway. He wasn’t looking at Molly. He wasn’t looking at anything. He was just
there
, smiling at some private joke.

BOOK: Winging It
7.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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