The Alien in the Garage and Other Stories (5 page)

Adam stared at him in horror.

The back door opened, and Adam's Mum entered. “Saving the world is one thing,” she said, more or less to herself. “But why we need three differentcoloured bins, I do not know.” She caught sight of Adam. “Ah, you've finally condescended to getup. I thought you'd taken root in that bedroom. You ught to be up and about, getting exercise.”

Adam gulped.

His mother sniffed.

“Did you shower this morning?” Another sniff answered her question. “Go and take a shower at once! And put some clean clothes on! I don't know what's the matter with you boys!” She paused, as if to reload with ammunition. “You'd better get going. Cricket practice starts in an hour. There's no time for you to laze around!”

With that, she turned and viciously started cleaning the sink.

Luke's grin disappeared as soon as he saw the look on Adam's face.

“I shouldn't be running straight out again!” Adam whined. “Not after a shower! It's cold! The sun's not out yet!”

He had showered and changed, too quickly to appreciate his own bathroom or his own wardrobe. Now he and Luke were running all the way back he had just come. Back to Luke's house.

“Oh, don't be such a wimp!” Luke was faster, and Adam was struggling to keep pace with him. “We can't risk Dad missing us. We'll have to go to mine, have some toast. You can eat another breakfast, can't you?”

“I haven't had one yet!” Adam moaned.

“Then,” Luke announced. “Cricket!” He paused, in mid-flight. “So, how d'you play the game again?”

“Checkpoint Two,” Luke reminded. “After this.” They had arrived at the cricket ground in time for nets. Adam was batting, and Luke was proving remarkably quick in learning how to bowl. Not that he faced much of a challenge. Adam was too tired to pay much attentionto the ball.

“We go back to yours.” Luke delivered another ball, and Adam slashed at it resignedly. “Say how good cricket was, all that stuff. Then back to mine. So both the parents have seen us together a second time. You've got a treat in store, by the way. Mum's taking us out for a meal tonight.”

“Nice of her,” Adam muttered dazedly. He had only had time to stuff down one slice of toast and margarine at Luke's, and was feeling far too empty to be playing sport.

“Not really.” Luke smirked. “She just can't cook!” He paused. “Not like your Mum. Her fried bread this morning was just…Mmm!”

Adam gave him a murderous glare.

“Not bad.” A tall figure cast a shadow across the cricket strip. It was Chris, a younger member of the adult cricket team who also ran the junior side. He had blond-dyed hair and a loud taste in tracksuits. “Luke, isn't it?”

“That's right,” Luke answered.

“I've been watching from the pavilion,” Chris continued. “Actually, we need a good bowler for the junior Second Eleven. We're playing the Chardwell lot in two weeks.” He paused. “Don't suppose you'd be interested?”

Luke shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“Cool!” Chris paused. “Watch the way you're holding that bat, Adam. It's not a shovel, y'know. You've been here long enough to know how to play the game properly.”

He paused to give Luke a friendly pat on the back, then moved away.

Luke paused.

Chris was right.

Suddenly, he didn't like the way Adam was holding that bat either.

“I can't go on with this!” Adam whinged. It was evening. They were in Luke's room, changing, having both been ordered by Luke's Mum to put smarter gear on for the restaurant. Adam had just had time to grab his best shirt and trousers on their last visit to his own home. “I'm fed up with being you!” He paused. “And why are you so flaming good at being me?”

“Who knows!” Luke was still looking irritatingly cheerful. “Maybe I've always been talented. Maybe, somewhere deep inside, there's an achiever struggling to get out.”

“Well, I've had enough of it!” Adam was in a real state, and his face was coming close to matching his mauve shirt. “Walking straight into Drama, and cricket, taking over. I've a good mind to go lazy for life!” He hesitated. “But I want to be it in my own house.”

“Remember the deal,” Luke reminded. “Sunday night, that's what we agreed. Ready for us to be ourselves on Monday morning.” He was backcombing his hair in front of the mirror, trying to look sophisticated. “Anyway, it's changed me, this. Done me good.”

He turned to Adam.

“I think I might come to all your clubs from now on.”

He ducked, and his neat hairstyle was suddenly destroyed, as a pillow narrowly missed his head. He glared aggressively.

“What?”

Like all family restaurants, the steak house was packed on a Saturday evening. Adam, Luke and Luke's Mum had to stand and wait in the bar area to be allocated to a table. Luke's Dad had still been reassembling his bike and had refused to come.

“I can't believe how well it's all gone,” Luke crowed. “Best plan of my life.”

Adam said nothing. His eyes said it all.

“I feel like celebrating.” Luke looked at the blackboard on which the daily specials were chalked. “I think I'll have a steak.”

“I'm not hungry,” Adam muttered.

“A whole weekend,” Luke concluded. “With each other's parents. And none of them had any idea -”

“Ah!”

Adam and Luke turned.

And, as one, their blood ran cold.

Standing there were Adam's Mum and Dad.

“Surprise!” Adam's Dad beamed.

“We thought we'd just creep in,” Adam's Mum explained. “It was quite out of the blue. Luke's mother rang and invited us to dinner. She said you were coming along here from Luke's house, after cricket. It's so kind of her, Luke. I suppose it's to say thanks for having you.”

“Hiya!” Luke's Mum had turned to greet the new arrivals. “Good to see you.”

“Haven't they found a table for us yet?” Adam's Dad was not one to wait. “I'll have a word at the bar.”

“I might have a small sherry,” said Adam's Mum, indulgently. She followed him.

Luke turned slowly to his mother, his eyes asking the question.

What did you do?

As if a mind-reader, she answered him.

“I thought we might as well get together.” She shrugged, and flicked a lock of hair back from her heavily made-up eyes. “And it's a thank-you, of sorts. Luke's had stuff to do all weekend, Adam, thanks to you.” She turned to a waiter who had approached them. “Any chance of that table by the clock, sweetheart?” She turned back to her son as the waiter moved off to check. “Dishy, isn't he?”

Luke was in no mood to answer.

As his Mum moved off towards the table, he remained where he was. He turned to Adam.

“If they get talking -?”

“And they will,” Adam said.

Luke paused.

“I've gone off that steak.”

“How far to the nearest chippy?” Adam said suddenly.

Luke paused. “‘Bout five minutes. Greenfield Road…”

His eyes met Adam's.

“Come on!”

“OK, they've found one -” Luke's Mum had returned, and stopped suddenly.

Luke and Adam were already halfway to the door.

“Changed our minds!” Luke called. “Off to the chippy. We'll see you later!”

“You know…” Luke gasped, as he and Adam sped in the direction of Greenfield Road. “That was a good plan of yours. Real quick.”

He paused for breath, and glanced at his friend as they fled.

“Maybe you learned something from being me… after all.”

On the corner of the little street stood a lamppost. Once, men had come round every evening to light the gas lamp inside. But none came now.

The street itself was old, narrow, cobbled. The houses had been built in Victorian times. They were so small that they were barely big enough for a family of four to live in their cramped and dirty rooms, let alone the much bigger families still living there in the 1930s.

For a few minutes, late that morning, the whole place had lain deserted.

Then, along the cobbled street, Liam and Justin came.

They were carrying clipboards and had their rucksacks on their backs. They were followed by the rest of Juniper Class.

“Not bad, is it?” Justin asked his friend.

“Well.” Liam shrugged. “If you like History.”

An attendant in a black t-shirt hurried ahead of them to unlock a door just beyond the lamppost.

A moment later, they were back in the present day.

Liam and Justin sat down at a table in the Work Room to eat their lunch.

Just above them, the display board on the wall proclaimed:

“MUSEUM OF TWENTIETH CENTURY LIFE.”

“What you got in yours?” asked Liam. They were taking plastic sandwich boxes out of their bags, like everyone else in the room.

Justin ripped the lid eagerly from his box.

“Can of cola,” he announced. He placed the can on the tabletop. “Cake. Crisps…”

“Beef and parsnip flavour?” Liam asked.

“Of course.” Justin pulled the crisp packet open. “And I've got some chocolate…”

“No sandwiches?” Liam looked into the box.

“Nah.” Justin sniffed. “Well, what's the point? I don't like ‘em. Just something to get through before you get to the interesting stuff.”

“Ah, you can't have a packed lunch without sarnies.” Liam opened the foil-wrapped package he had taken out of his own box. He took out the first sandwich and groaned. “Ah, no.”

“Ham?” Justin looked at the floppy purplish slice hanging out of the pieces of dry wholemeal bread.

“And cucumber,” Liam moaned. He opened the sandwich up. “She knows I don't like cucumber.”

“I'll have it.” Justin reached across and plucked the cucumber from the sandwich.

“Hey!” Liam looked indignant at this invasion of his food. “Get your hands off! I've got to eat that sandwich!”

“Only trying to help.” Justin popped the cucumber into his mouth.

Liam tutted.

“Cheers.”

They went on with their food in silence for a short time.

“Don't you like this place, then?” Justin asked.

“S'all right.” Liam was halfway through the second sandwich. He had taken the cucumber out and wrapped it in the silver foil. “Bit boring. They want to make it…what-d'you-call-it…interactive.”

“Mm,” Justin agreed.

“Like,” Liam went on. “In the war bit, you can hear all the bombs going off and everything. And a few people, dummies…But you don't see much. You could have a button to press, like. And everyone drops down dead.”

“Yeah!” Justin enthused.

“Then there's Winston Churchill,” Liam suggested. “‘Stead of him just standing there. Have buttons on his waistcoat. Number one makes him talk. And number two makes smoke come out his cigar.”

“Yeah,” Justin agreed. He took a mouthful of cola. “OK trip, though.”

“Oh, yeah,” Liam nodded.

There was another moment of silence.

Justin was picking at the top of the little iced cake he had brought, carefully removing the chocolate drop. “My sister made these.”

“Yeah?” Liam crunched his apple.

“With my Nan.” Justin swallowed the chocolate drop and bit into the cake.

“Weird what kids do,” said Liam. “When they're little.”

“They went on a trip,” Justin said in an explosion of crumbs. Liam dodged. “Last week. The big museum. Not this one. The one near the Jolly Ferret pub.”

“Oh yeah.” Liam nodded.

“Doing the Egyptians,” Justin went on. “I saw her drawing a picture after. She's a good drawer. There was an Ancient Egyptian standing next to a pyramid. He looked a bit like me.”

“Must've been one of your ancestors,” Liam suggested. He sniggered. “Yeah! That's it! You're an Ancient Egyptian, J!”

There was a long silence, during which Justin looked bewildered.

“My Dad came from Ilford,” he said eventually.

There was another silence.

Liam rolled his eyes.

Then the two of them returned in silence to their lunches.

“I haven't even answered half these questions.” Justin flicked through the worksheets on his clipboard. “Where was the Great Depression Zone, anyway?”

“Just before the street,” Liam answered. “The bit with all those fellas in flat caps queuing up for soup.”

“All those poor people starving.” Justin stuffed some chocolate into his mouth. “Horrible.”

They fell silent once again.

“You coming fishing tomorrow, then?” Justin asked.

“Yeah.” Liam nodded. “Come over. Mine. ‘Bout eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, something like that. Don't come any earlier, because tomorrow, I, will be having a lie-in. Followed by, a big breakfast.” He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “And then, a day's fishing.”

“Hmm.” Justin paused. “Liam?”

“Yeah?” Liam asked.

“Have you ever actually caught anything?”

There was silence for quite some time after that. Liam was rather coldly eating a muesli bar.

“I'm sick of all this health food,” he said finally.

“Want some chocolate?” Justin held out what was left of the bar.

“Ta.” Liam took a piece. He put it into his mouth, and instantly looked happier. “Ah, magic.”

Justin had got the chocolate on his hands. He wiped them carelessly on his grey school trousers. He took a look around the room at their classmates.

“Was Sophie's hair always that colour?” he wondered.

“Nah.” Liam finished the chocolate. “Had it dyed, didn't she?”

“I reckon Miss Harper's had hers done too,” Justin said. He looked round the room again. “Where is she?”

“Popped out,” Liam said. “Left Jenkins in charge.” He pointed out their own teacher, who was sitting on the other side of the room, looking stressed and eating a passion fruit yoghurt.

“The word on the street is, they're going out,” Justin said matter-of-factly.

“You
what
?” Liam spluttered through an orange drink.

“Miss Harper,” Justin explained. “And Jenkins.”

“
Them
two?” Liam gasped. “You're kidding.”

“Nah,” Justin insisted. “I got it off Kimberley. Her auntie works in that restaurant near the station. And she saw them in there together one night after school. They've got an Early Doors menu there.”

“I don't believe it!” Liam was grinning.

“Oh yeah,” Justin went on, “there's soup or a starter, and about six mains, and it's only nine ninety-five per…”

“I mean
them
, twit.” Liam took a long, thoughtful sip of his drink, then smirked. “Jenkins and Miss Harper! I'm keeping an eye on them.”

“Reckon they're going to get married?” Justin asked.

“Nah,” Liam said. “Too different, aren't they?”

“What d'you mean?” asked Justin.

“Well,” Liam said. “Different lives. I mean, he does all the PE and Technology stuff, doesn't he? And she does Maths Group B. Wouldn't work.”

“Ah, no,” Justin agreed. He finished off his can of cola.

There was another silence.

“OK, you lot!” Mr Jenkins called.

Miss Harper had re-entered the room, but Mr Jenkins didn't look at her. Watching, Liam and Justin shook hands. They had this sussed.

“Finish off and put your stuff away! We're going now to the Welfare State Zone. And then it's back here to build those timelines!”

“Come on, then.” Liam shoved his sandwich box into his bag. The rest of the class were also getting their things together, ready to move off.

Justin seemed to be deep in thought again.

“There's just one thing,” he said finally.

“Yeah?” Liam asked.

“Well…” Justin wiped his hands again, this time on his sweater, then stared at them. “The Ancient Egyptians did all them…hieroglyphics. If that's where I came from…why aren't I better at drawing?”