Inside the Worm (3 page)

Trot grinned. ‘Reflectors, Fliss, from Gary's dad's old car. D'you like 'em?'

‘Like 'em? They're amazing. It's like they're staring right at you, hating you. What a terrific idea.'

‘Yeah, well – we need a terrific idea from you, Fliss, now that you've finally shown up.'

‘Why – what's up?'

‘It's the neck,' said Lisa. ‘It's designed to go over Gary's head and shoulders and down to his waist, so that the head is firmly supported and won't sway about when the worm's moving.'

‘And doesn't it fit?'

‘Oh, it fits all right, but it pins Gary's arms to his sides. He feels like an Egyptian mummy in there and it's not safe for him to walk, let alone run. If he tripped, he'd fall flat on his face.'

‘Hmmm.' Fliss looked at the head. ‘Is the papier-mâché completely dry now?'

‘The thickest parts are still a bit soggy, but it's OK. Why?'

‘Well, if the neck's dry we could take a saw and cut two slots in it, one either side. It'd still reach his waist back and front, and his arms would be free.'

‘Fliss Morgan, you're a genius,' cried Trot. ‘An infant prodigy. Why didn't we think of that?'

The slots were quickly cut, and Gary tried on the head. He couldn't see yet because they hadn't made the eye-holes, but they led him on a circuit of the garage and he did some roaring and said he felt much better. Now that the papier-mâché had dried out, the whole thing was surprisingly light. They spent the afternoon painting it, and by half-past four the last scrap of newsprint was covered and the head was a glossy green, except for the inside of the mouth which they'd done with some obscenely pink stuff Ellie-May
had got from somewhere. They propped it in a corner and stood in a half-circle, looking at it.

‘It looks like a pensioner yawning,' said Lisa. ‘It's got no teeth.'

‘Don't worry,' said Ellie-May. ‘My gran's got some things we can use for teeth.'

‘What sort of things?'

‘Oh – they're cone-shaped plastic things from where she used to work. Bobbins of some sort, I think. They're all colours, but we can soon paint 'em white.'

Trot looked at her. ‘Can you bring them tomorrow?'

‘No problem.'

‘Right.' He turned to the others. ‘Half-past ten then, here?'

This time, Lisa left with Fliss. Fliss grinned. ‘Trot found somebody else, has he?'

Lisa shook her head. ‘I told you – I don't care about Trot. I care about the play, that's all. I get a funny feeling every time I think about it.'

‘What sort of feeling? Are you nervous?'

Lisa shook her head. ‘Not nervous exactly. Sort of shivery. It's ever since we started the head.'

Fliss laughed. ‘You scared of it?'

‘Me? No. I don't need to be, Fliss. It's you. You're Ceridwen.'

Fliss pulled a face. ‘I know. I had a nightmare. But
it's only a story, so there can't really be anything to be afraid of, can there?'

Her friend shrugged. ‘I dunno. Maybe not. Anyway, can we talk about something else now, Fliss?'

SUNDAY MORNING WAS
dull and drizzly, but Ellie-May had brought the teeth. Each tooth was twenty centimetres long and came to a good sharp point at one end. Everybody had come in old clothes and they spent a happy hour with the white paint, slapping it on the cones and standing them in a row on Trot's dad's workbench. When the last tooth was done, Trot counted them. ‘Twenty-eight,' he said. ‘Just right. Seven each side, top and bottom.'

‘How do we fix 'em in?' asked Gary.

‘Superglue,' Trot told him. ‘We gouge out sockets in the papier-mâché, smear 'em with superglue and stick the teeth in. Nothing'll shift 'em once that glue sets. Nothing. But the paint's got to dry first.'

They made the sockets while they were waiting. It wasn't easy. The painted papier-mâché was remarkably tough. By the time they'd finished it was nearly lunchtime and the teeth were almost dry. ‘Near enough, anyway,' said Trot, testing one with his finger. ‘We can always touch 'em up after if they get fingerprints on 'em.'

By one o'clock the worm's head had a full set of fearsome teeth. The difference was amazing. ‘Wow!' breathed Ellie-May. ‘Look at it. It's so realistic.'

Trot nodded. ‘Sure is. I mean, I know we wanted it scary, but this is almost too frightening. I'd have a fit if I met that in the woods at night.'

‘Hey!' Gary's eyes shone. ‘Help me on with it – let's see what it looks like moving.'

‘No!' Lisa shook her head. ‘Don't, Gary. Don't put it on.' She sounded frightened and everybody looked at her.

‘What's the matter?' demanded Gary. ‘You scared or something?'

Lisa nodded. ‘Yes, I'm scared. I don't know why, but I am. It's too good. Too real. I can't believe we made it.'

Trot laughed. ‘Who made it if we didn't, Lisa? We're geniuses, kid. It looks good because it was created by a team of brilliant minds. Come on, Gary – let's see our stunning creation in action.'

Lisa was backing towards the big double doors. ‘I – I've got to go,' she murmured. ‘Lunch. I'll see you at school tomorrow, OK?'

‘Hey, Lisa.' Fliss looked at her friend. ‘Hang on one minute, right? One minute and I'll be with you.'

‘No, sorry.' Lisa's face was chalk white. ‘I can't. I don't feel well. I have to go now.'

‘Oh, all right, I'll come with you.' Fliss shot the others an apologetic glance. ‘I'll see you tomorrow.'

When she got outside, Lisa was halfway down the drive. Fliss had to run to catch up. ‘You're acting crazy, d'you know that?' she panted. ‘They'll drop you from the team if you're not careful.'

‘Let them,' said Lisa. ‘I'll probably drop out anyway.'

‘But why, Lisa? You volunteered for the worm, you know. Nobody forced you.'

‘Listen.' Lisa spun on her heel and faced her friend. ‘Don't you feel anything when you look at that head? Those teeth? I do. I feel like – like it's all too easy. I mean, that head's perfect, Fliss. Perfect. Stuff you make out of papier-mâché just doesn't turn out like that, especially when a lot of people work on it. You get lumps and dents – it ends up the wrong shape. You know what I mean.'

‘Yes.' Fliss nodded. ‘We do seem to have been lucky. We slapped the thing together and by sheer
chance it came out right. But does that mean we should be scared of it?'

‘I'm not scared of it.'

‘Well, you could have fooled me. You looked terrified, backing out of that garage. Look.' She put an arm round Lisa and squeezed her skinny waist. ‘I'm your friend, right? Whatever's bugging you, you can tell me.'

Lisa nodded. ‘I know.' They walked on. ‘It's hard to explain, Fliss, but I'm not afraid of the worm. Not in the way you mean, but all the same there's something about it that's not quite right.' She smiled wanly. ‘And if I still feel the same when it's finished, I think I'm going to have to drop out.'

‘Well,' sighed Fliss, ‘It is odd, I suppose, the way everything's come together so perfectly. Anyway, I'm on your side whatever happens. D'you want to meet up after lunch – walk round town or something?'

Lisa nodded. ‘OK. Half-two?'

‘Half-two, on the corner. I'll wear my new black jeans.'

‘
HEY, I LIKE
the gear!' cried Lisa. Fliss did a twirl, showing off her black jeans and top, her brand-new trainers.

‘You've perked up a bit,' she grinned. ‘Must've been hunger.'

Lisa smiled. ‘Maybe.' They fell into step, strolling towards the town centre.

‘What we gonna do?' asked Lisa.

Fliss shrugged. ‘Not a lot. Everything'll be shut, but some of the kids could be around.' She looked sidelong at her friend. ‘We might see Trot.'

‘Shut up.'

Fliss was partly right. Most places were shut. McDonald's was open though, and they peered
through the big window, looking for friends among the diners. There were none. ‘We could go in anyway,' suggested Fliss. ‘Have coffee and pie or something.'

‘Ugh.' Lisa pulled a face. ‘Do you mind? I've just eaten about half a cow and a truckful of veg. Haven't you had lunch? You must have a stomach like a Hoover.'

‘I thought it'd be something to do, that's all.'

‘I'd rather walk on, boring though it is.'

‘I'll tell you what.'

‘What?'

‘It must've been even more boring when it was just a village.'

Lisa looked at her. ‘What made you think of that?'

‘The play, of course.'

‘Hmmm.' Lisa grinned. ‘No McDonald's, that's for sure, but they did have the worm to liven things up.'

Fliss giggled. ‘D'you reckon it was exciting waiting for it to come out of the marsh, never knowing when it might be your turn to get eaten?'

Lisa shook her head. ‘Horrible, I should think. Terrifying. Like a village in India when there's a man-eating tiger about. Not boring though.'

‘I think I'd rather be bored.'

Lisa laughed. ‘I'd rather be the worm.'

Fliss looked at her. ‘Fancy human flesh, do you?'

Lisa chuckled. ‘Not the flesh, Fliss. The power.'

‘How d'you mean?'

‘Well, think about it.' Lisa's eyes gleamed. ‘Everyone running, hiding, shaking with terror every time you appeared. You could have anything you wanted – make them do whatever you wanted them to do. What a fantastic feeling that'd be.'

Fliss shook her head. ‘I think I'd rather be liked, Lisa.'

Lisa laughed. ‘That's the whole point, Fliss – you don't need to be liked if you're feared. If they're all scared stiff of you, they'll fall over each other to be your friend.'

There was a note in Lisa's voice which Fliss had never heard before. She gazed at her friend. ‘Sounds like you've thought it all out, Lisa. I never knew stuff like that went on inside your skull.'

Lisa frowned. ‘It didn't. Not till this worm thing started. It's doing my head in if you want to know, Fliss. I can't stop thinking about it.'

‘Well, if it's bothering you so much, maybe you should drop out, but I don't get it. It's only a play, for Pete's sake, with a papier-mâché monster we made ourselves.' Fliss wished she felt as certain as she sounded.

Lisa nodded. ‘I know, and I don't understand either. I—' She broke off, peering along the street
they'd just turned into. Some way down, a great yellow skip stood on the pavement. Men were hurrying in and out of a building, throwing things into the skip, going back for more. ‘What's going on, Fliss – what place is that?'

Fliss shrugged. ‘Demolition, by the look of it. It's the Odeon.' The Odeon was Elsworth's only cinema. ‘Come on.' She plucked at Lisa's sleeve. ‘Let's watch for a bit. It'll be something to do, if nothing else.'