The Grasshopper's Child (6 page)

Three times—

‘Did you see that, Bad Dream Cat? D'you think it was a signal?'

The Bad Dream Cat was curled up tight on her duvet, hoping to spend the night there. It still smelled horrible, but she couldn't bring herself to chuck it out. She shut the window, got into bed, and her feet found its warmth like a hot water bottle.

‘All right, grumpy. Don't have a conversation. Goodnight.'

6: The Inspector and the Inquisition

On Wednesday morning, before making breakfast, Heidi circled the Garden House with her phone in her hand: puzzled that she still couldn't find the hotspot. She had no luck.

The rain on Monday night had left everything drenched and shining. The world looked brand new, and Heidi's head felt washed clean of nightmares after two solid nights of sleep. On the lawn outside the breakfast room a set of garden furniture had been left to rot, under a cedar tree. In the tall hedge a wrought-iron gate was hung with sparkling dew, and one perfect, crystal-sprinkled spider web. Heidi was feeling so normal she took its photo; though her phone's camera wasn't that great.

Through the gate and along a short path she found a dead tennis court, weeds pushing through the red gravel; and a rectangular swamp that had been a swimming pool. The pool cover, rolled on a rusted stand at one end, would never move again. The water's surface was so thick with duckweed it looked solid. Plants grew out of it. Bubbles plopped busily. Heidi crouched for a closer look and confirmed that the bubbles were frogs. The Jurassic swamp of a swimming pool was
alive
with beautiful little bright green frogs. Fairytale creatures, with golden jewel eyes, staring up at her cheekily before vanishing—

The swamp heaved. A head appeared, crowned in scum, duckweed trailing down its cheeks, catching on stubble. It surged towards her, scrawny white neck and shoulders bobbing in and out of view. Heidi leapt to her feet. The swimmer grasped the rim of the pool, scummed to the nipples, and grinned at her, gap-toothed.

‘Get out!' shouted Heidi, completely forgetting she was a slave. ‘You can't swim in there. Those frogs are endangered and protected! You're messing up their habitat!'

‘Friggy froggy, frig frog,' said Stubbly Chin. ‘It must be spring, eh?'

‘I'm sorry,' Heidi backed off. ‘I beg your pardon. But you shouldn't.'

‘Come on in Heidi! The water's lovely.'

He hauled himself out by the steps and sat there ankle deep in slime, scooping handfuls of duckweed from himself. It was the first time she'd spoken to him, or heard him speak. First time she'd
seen
him, apart from in what might have been a nightmare; except at mealtimes.

‘Excuse me. I have to go now. I'll be careful your egg isn't hard.'

‘
Heieieidiiyiyiyi!
'

She looked back. Stubbly Chin was sitting there grinning at her. She wondered why he didn't just get out, as the water must be freezing as well as slimy, and he clearly wasn't shy. Maybe his feet were even uglier than the rest of him.

At breakfast he was clothed as usual, a streak of duckweed around one ear. As usual the brother and sister did not speak: not while Heidi was in the room, anyway.

Unbroken sleep had sorted out her plans as well as clearing her mind. She knew what to say to the Inspector. It was simple; it was the only thing that made sense. She zipped through her chores, served lunch, cleared away, and set out running.

What if somebody had locked the door in the wall?

Nothing had changed. When she reached the lane she walked slowly, breathing deep. She needed to be calm and relaxed to make the right impression. At the doors of the Learning Centre a boy about her own age slipped by her: brown hoodie pulled well down over his face. She guessed he must be another Exempt Teen, and waited until he'd gone down a corridor before she ducked into the Access Booth. Once inside she took a last deep breath, entered the number and followed the prompts.

An interview room appeared. She seemed to be in it, sitting on one side of a pale blue table, facing a door. It looked very like the room in her memory: the real place where she'd been interviewed, in the cloudy days after Dad died. She was alone this time. Someone had been with her the last time: a woman, but not Immy; or Verruca. The Police Inspector came in, sat down, and looked at Heidi across his joined hands.

Was it the same policeman? She thought so. Would he remember her?

He did remember. When she told him she wanted to visit her mum, he seemed perplexed: like Virtual Verruca when she discovered Old Wreck didn't have a 3D biometric printer in the house. But unlike Verruca, he wasn't hostile.

‘Why are you asking me, Heidi? It's not in my remit—'

‘She had a breakdown. Wouldn't you? She went out somewhere, she came back and found him like that, covered in blood. My mum did not kill my dad. I know she didn't.'

‘How do you know?'

‘I just do, and that's why I want to see her. She won't talk to you, or anyone like you. People in authority scare her. She might talk to me. She might tell me what happened.'

‘Heidi, if it's about visiting your mother, you need to talk to your social worker. Ms Obigana, isn't it?' The Inspector seemed to look at the bare blue table-top for information.‘Immaculata Obigana? Or is it Verushka Zabata, now? I have two names.'

‘Immy's not my social worker any more. She was in an accident, the same day Dad got killed. That's why she didn't answer the phone. Now I only have Ms Zabata, and she's not a social worker. She's a placement manager for Indentured Teens.'

‘I'm very sorry for what's happened to you, Heidi, but—'

Heidi said nothing. Keep it simple, said her instincts. You've told him why he should fix this for you. If you argue, he can argue back. She looked at him, hoping that silence would inspire him to admit the truth. And the truth was that he was Heidi's only hope.

‘One moment.'

The Inspector left the virtual room, then he came back.

‘All right, Heidi. I'll see what we can do. I'll need to send you a travel warrant, if this works out. I have your phone number. I'll call you about that.'

‘You can't call me. I haven't got signal. I'm in the country.'

He frowned, but didn't tell her she'd have to ask Ms Zabata. He was very calm. His bony, serious face had barely moved, except for a faint smile that flitted there each time Heidi spoke, like an apology.
Excuse me for being so smartly dressed, sorry I'm so far above you
. She hoped the frown was a good sign. She looked at his reddish hands, clasped on the spotless table, the left thumb uppermost. His nails were cut straight and buffed; a few black hairs grew on the backs of his fingers. He wore a wedding band; and a silver pin with initials on it, in his lapel. She couldn't read the letters.

‘If I can't reach your phone, I'll need the IP address of your placement.'

‘I can't get mail there. Could you send it here, to the Learning Centre? I'll have an address on the Exempt Teens Register.'

‘That will be fine. Don't expect too much, Heidi. Your mother is not well at all.'

‘I understand.'

‘Good. And you're living with the Maylocks, a brother and sister, down in Sussex, I see. How's that working out?'

‘Okay.'

‘Good. Don't forget, if there's anything at all, anything you think you should tell me—'

‘The thing I don't forget is that I know my mum didn't do it.'

‘
How
do you know, Heidi? Have you remembered something?'

‘I just know.'

She got up to go, leaving the inspector to break the connection. Her face felt like wood, she was afraid she was going to cry. He wasn't going to do anything about a travel warrant. She hadn't been talking to a person, just a digital avatar. There could be anybody or nobody behind that mask. She'd been pleading with a stupid doll, and thinking it could understand like a human being.

The Exempt Teens meeting was already in session when she tracked them down. They were in the Computer Room. Workstations lined the walls, old-fashioned but functional. Tanya with the thick glasses sat facing a motley group of teenagers ‘informally arranged' on library-style comfy chairs. Heidi slipped into an empty place.

‘Sorry I'm late.'

‘No problem,' said Tanya. ‘We haven't really started.'

The boy in brown was also in the back row, hood down, shoulders hunched, fists in his pockets. The other teens looked more at home. She was surprised to see so many of them, the village had looked tiny. About half looked younger than Heidi: about half looked fifteen, sixteen, or seventeen-ish. A tall boy with coat-hanger shoulders, and chestnut brown dreads tied in a ponytail, was one of the older ones. He looked vaguely familiar, but it was probably just the way he was dressed: as if maybe she'd seen him in a magazine, modelling expensive, hippie-type country clothes. What was
he
doing here? Next to him was a girl with tattoos all over her face, her head half-shaved, stencils in the stubble: who glared fiercely when she caught Heidi's eye. Another pair of girls, both Heidi's age, she would guess: one with shining, red-gold hair, the other wearing a blue pull-on hat. A sixteenish goon with muscles (but the goon was a girl). A beaming Munchkin, the size of a five year old, wearing ragged skater shorts, a scruffy work shirt meant for an adult, and unlaced army boots. A plump boy in a painfully white shirt; with a terrible haircut. One more girl, dishwater blonde with vague, round, pale blue eyes. She checked them out, and they clocked her back, without anyone actually staring; except for the surly girl—

Heidi remembered this experience vividly from when she was thirteen, and the Camps had just opened. Nearly everyone disappears to work on Essential Food Production. You meet the other rejects, mostly strangers, in what used to be the school library. Not that you
wanted
to be dragged off to Agricultural Boot Camp, but still you feel rejected. And everyone's wondering what's wrong with the ones who's problems are not obvious.

Tanya told the group off, mildly, for not delivering assigned academic work on time, and praised the plump boy, for being the exception to this rule. The girl with the tattooed face stuck her hand up, and said she wanted to submit her homework on paper. She was a Pagan and using a computer was against her religion. And anyway, Exempts should be able to go to a real school, with real teachers, not just send stuff to be marked by machines, and get a know-nothing child-minder on her day off as their only human contact.

Tanya patiently listed the reasons why she was the only teacher assigned to Mehilhoc, and patiently reminded everyone that Though They Hadn't Been Called Up they were Just As Vitally Needed In Their Own Community. Government stooges always talk in capitals, they can't help it. Heidi had the feeling Tanya maybe wasn't much good, but at least she knew not to react to attention-seekers. Tattoo Face had the potential to be a pain in everybody's backside, if she was encouraged.

‘I see we have a couple of newcomers,' added Tanya, with a big smile. ‘I know about you, Heidi. But I don't know who you are, you in the brown jacket. Can you help me out?'

‘I'm Clancy,' said the hooded boy, very quietly. ‘Just passing through.'

He sloped to the front, his head well down, and handed Tanya an envelope. She took out a piece of paper, looked at it, nodded, handed it back and made a note on her tablet.

‘I see. Welcome to our sessions, Clancy. I hope you join us often.'

‘I'm interested in Astrology and Astronomy,' muttered Clancy, who'd sloped back to his comfy chair. ‘I'd like to use your internet services sometimes, if that's okay.'

‘No problem! You'll have full use of the library whenever it's open. I'll get you and Heidi registered after this. Heidi, do you have special interests?'

‘I'd like to know how to mend leaded windows. And how to pronounce
Me-hil-hoc
.'