The Impossible Boy (6 page)

‘Spirits all-knowing,

May thee reveal,

His True Love’s Initial,

By the shape of this peel!’

Barney stared at the peel, dumbstruck, as if it might suddenly start to talk or magically transform itself into a pterodactyl.

‘You have to drop the peel on to the table, son,’ said Dave.

‘Oh. Right.’ Barney let go of the peel. It flopped on the tabletop. Dave and Gill both leaned in eagerly to peer at it.

Barney’s heart turned a somersault.
Don’t be G
, he thought.
Don’t be G
. . .

‘G,’ said Gill. ‘Definitely a G.’

‘I agree, dear,’ said Dave. ‘G it is. Do you know any girls whose name starts with a G, Thomas?’

‘My name’s Barney,’ said Barney, his blood ringing in his ears. ‘And . . . erm . . . maybe. One. Possibly one. Possibly more. I know lots of young ladies. Well,
some.’ He sensed he needed to shut up as soon as possible.

‘Well, there you go,’ said Dave. ‘She’s your future wife. Is it the first or second name that starts with a G?’

‘Both actually,’ said Barney sheepishly.

Gill nodded sagely. ‘You see, Barney. The peel never lies. When are you going to propose to her?’ She and Dave looked at him with grave expressions – and suddenly burst into
helpless laughter. ‘It’s only a silly game, my love!’ hooted Gill. ‘Don’t look so worried!’

‘The look on your face, Rufus!’ said Dave, shaking his head. ‘Absolutely priceless!’

‘It’s Barney!’ said Barney, wishing he had skived off LifeSkillz today. ‘And I knew you were just joking. Honestly. It was obvious.’

‘Yeah, right,’ said Gill, still giggling. ‘He had you hook, line and sinker.’

‘What does it say about young people today if they’re prepared to take relationship advice from a piece of kitchen waste?’ said Dave, and that set him and Gill off laughing
again.

‘I knew you were just joking,’ insisted Barney. ‘I don’t believe in the paranormal. Really. Me and Gab—’ He checked himself. ‘
I
believe
there’s a rational explanation for everything. There are no spirits. No ghosts.’

‘No mysteries in life, eh?’ said Dave. His laughter was subsiding now.

‘I didn’t say that,’ said Barney. ‘Of course there are still mysteries to investigate, things we don’t know.’

‘You ever hear about the backwards robot?’ said Dave. ‘That’s a good mystery. A local one.’

‘No,’ said Barney, interested. ‘What is it?’

Gill suddenly emitted a blast of smoke from her nostrils like a dragon. ‘Dave’s babbling,’ she said dismissively. ‘Don’t listen to him.’ She stood up as
quickly as she could, pressing down hard on the table to lever herself up. ‘Come and give me a hand baking this flan. Can’t sit here gossiping all day.’

‘I’m not babbling,’ said Dave. ‘I remember it well—’

‘Will you be quiet? Silly old man,’ said Gill loudly, her back to him, heading for the kitchen counter. ‘Barney doesn’t need to hear your nonsense.’

‘I don’t mind,’ said Barney. ‘I like stories.’

‘Don’t encourage him,’ she retorted. She suddenly reminded Barney of a very mean maths teacher he had known in primary school. ‘You know his mind’s not what it once
was. The last thing he needs is you humouring his idiocy. I’d like you to leave now, please.’

‘What?’ said Barney. ‘I haven’t done anything?’

‘Do you want me to get on the phone to your school and tell them you’ve been upsetting my husband?’ said Gill. ‘I’ll do it if you don’t leave right
now.’

Barney held up his hands. ‘Whoa! I’m going! Sorry! I didn’t mean to . . .’ He stood up. Dave was staring at him. There was something in his eyes resembling fear. Barney
suddenly felt very out of his depth. He headed for the kitchen door. ‘Sorry again,’ he muttered.

‘Just go, Barney,’ said Gill, flatly. ‘It’s not your fault. We’ll see you on Thursday.’

Barney let himself out and walked up the driveway. After the smoky interior of Gill and Dave’s house, the afternoon air was as cold and refreshing as a glass of milk.

‘Wow! Big wow! Wowsers!’

‘That’s exactly what I thought.’

‘What, those exact words? In that exact order?’

Gabby rolled her eyes. ‘All right. Not
exactly
those words. But what I saw was pretty darn wow-worthy.’

‘I bet it was! And you’re
positive
it wasn’t a trick of some kind?’

Gabby laughed. ‘Barney, mate – Chas vanished into thin air. No smoke. No trapdoors. He put his schoolbag down on the ground – just an ordinary sports bag – opened it, and
then jumped into it as if it were a hole seven metres deep! He vanished! There was a flash of light and then even the bag was gone. That’s exactly what I saw. I promise.’

‘There wasn’t a hole in the ground?’

‘Absolutely not. I checked ten times. Normal paving stones.’

‘And you haven’t been hypnotised? Or drugged? Or had your brain jiggled with in any way?’

Gabby shrugged. ‘If I had I wouldn’t know so it’s pointless asking, isn’t it?’

‘Hmm. Good point,’ said Barney. He chewed his thumbnail.

They were sitting at the kitchen table in Gabby’s house. Two mugs of tea stood in front of them slowly going cold, as neither of them had stopped talking long enough to take a single
sip.

It was a very different kitchen to the one Barney had encountered on his first visit to Gabby’s house a few months earlier. Back then, the kitchen, and actually every other room in the
house, had been covered by a layer of leaves. Gabby’s mum had, for complicated reasons of her own, developed an obsession with leaves of all kinds and had taken to attaching them to every
square centimetre of space in the house. Thankfully, this phase had run its course and the kitchen now looked perfectly normal. Mrs Grayling herself was pottering about the kitchen, humming softly
to herself and paying no attention to Barney and Gabby at all.

Frowning, Gabby cupped her chin in her hand. ‘So what are we talking about here? Some kind of Einstein-Rosen Bridge? Is that even physically possible?’

‘Well, you might be talking about Einstein-Rosen Bridges,’ said Barney, ‘but, personally, I haven’t got a clue what one is.’

‘They’re theoretical wormholes in space,’ said Gabby as if reminding him of something he had always known.

‘Oh, yeah.
Course
,’ said Barney. ‘Look, Gab.’ He pointed to his face. ‘Observe. This is what a confused person looks like. Someone who has never heard
about Einstein’s bungholes.’

‘
Wormholes
.’

‘Whatever.’ A thought suddenly struck Barney. ‘Wait a minute – are you
clever
?’

‘What?’

‘Are you clever, Gab? You know – really intelligent. Brainy. It would explain a lot.’

Gabby shrugged. ‘Clever? Well, no, not really. I just read lots of books and remember what they say.’

Barney groaned. ‘That’s what clever is, you idiot! You are! You’re really clever. How did I not know this?’

‘Stop saying that,’ said Gabby, blushing. ‘I’m not especially clever. Honest.’

‘Oh, yeah? Do you think many teenage girls know about Einstein-Rosen Dual Carriageways?’

‘Bridges. Not dual carriageways. Although it’s an intriguing concept.’

‘See? That was a clever thing to say. It proves you’re clever!’

Gabby chuckled. ‘OK, so maybe I am a little bit. But so what?’

‘It’s just that I’ve never really known anybody clever before,’ said Barney thoughtfully. ‘It’s really cool. You know about all sorts of stuff. I’d like
to be like that one day.’

‘Well, thanks, mate,’ said Gabby, blushing.

‘So what are we going to do about Chas?’

Gabby grinned. ‘Same thing Geek Inc. always does when confronted with the impossible. We investigate! Let’s keep a close eye on him. See what else he’s capable of.’

A serious look appeared on Barney’s face. ‘Do you think he might be – you know –
dangerous
?’

Gabby frowned and wrinkled her nose. ‘He seems like a nice-enough lad. And he’s only doing a few tricks, isn’t he?
Euch!
This tea’s gone cold. Do you want
another cup?’

‘Sure,’ said Barney, handing her his mug.

Gabby emptied away their cold tea and filled the kettle. ‘How are you getting on with your old couple, by the way – what are they called again . . .?’

‘Dave and Gill. Not bad. Gill can be a right moody-chops sometimes. She gets so impatient with Dave losing his memory. Not his fault, poor guy. The other day he starts babbling on about a
backwards robot and Gill says—’

Gabby’s mum suddenly gave a little squeak. ‘Oooh! The backwards robot! That takes me back!’

Barney stared at her. ‘You mean it’s real? There’s an actual backwards robot? I thought it was just some random stuff coming out of Dave’s brain.’

‘It’s real enough,’ said Mrs Grayling. ‘It’s in the park somewhere. Here in Blue Hills. I was there when the mayor unveiled it. It’s a statue, you see.
Strange business.’

‘What’s this?’ said Gabby, putting down the kettle. ‘If it’s something strange then Barney and I definitely want to know more.’

‘It is a very weird story, now I think about it,’ said Mrs Grayling. ‘But I’m not the best person to tell it. There’s a lady in this street who knows far more about
it. She was involved, you see.’

Gabby and Barney exchanged a look of perfect confusion.

Gabby pressed the doorbell. A crude electronic version of ‘Three Blind Mice’ sounded within the house. It went on for a very long time.

‘Haven’t we got enough odd stuff on our plate investigating Chas Hinton’s magic tricks?’ Barney asked.

‘We’re in the middle of an oddness-drought,’ grinned Gabby. ‘I’m not missing the opportunity to look into something else weird. And I’m sure Sherlock Holmes
wouldn’t turn his nose up at a mystery like this.’

Barney flushed with colour. ‘You must have thought I was an idiot talking about him the other day.’

Gabby laughed. ‘No worries, Barney. Easy mistake to make.’

‘No, I should have realised he died after that battle with Professor Moriarty at the Reichenbach Falls. I feel such a fool.’

Gabby made the snorting sound again.

‘Hay fever again?’

‘Yeah. Can’t seem to shake it,’ she said, suppressing a grin.

The door opened and a tall, brittle-looking woman in her late fifties stood in front of them. Her face was etched with deep lines and her hair was cut in a weird asymmetrical style. A pair of
large fish-shaped earrings danced and jerked against her neck, almost as if they were live fish struggling on hooks.

‘Fiona Cress?’ asked Gabby.

‘Oh excellent! You’re here!’ the woman exclaimed. ‘Come this way! The binturongs are waiting.’

Hundreds of pairs of tiny eyes stared down at Gabby and Barney from rows of wooden shelves lining the room. The eyes belonged to hundreds of small glazed pottery creatures.
Barney couldn’t tell if they were meant to be cats, or dogs or bears – or what. What he did know was that their weird, whiskery little faces were starting to seriously freak him out. It
felt like they might suddenly come alive, pounce down from their shelves and devour them.

‘Welcome to my studio,’ said Fiona Cress. ‘Would you like tea? Or do you want to get started moving the binturongs right away?’

Barney looked at Gabby. ‘Once again, if you want to know what a totally confused person looks like, just take a look at me,’ he muttered.

Gabby gave Fiona Cress her politest smile. ‘I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. We’re not here about the binturongs.’

‘What?’ Fiona Cress’s eyebrows narrowed. ‘You’ve not come to take them away?’

‘No,’ said Gabby. ‘We haven’t.’

‘What
are
binturongs?’ said Barney, feeling faintly embarrassed, as if he might have just accidentally sworn in a foreign language.

‘Binturongs,’ explained Gabby hurriedly, ‘are a nocturnal mammal native to East Asia. They live in trees and smell of popcorn.’

‘You’re making this up,’ said Barney. ‘There’s no such thing.’

‘No such thing?’ hooted Fiona Cress. Her voice sounded so alarmed that Barney actually jumped. ‘What on Earth are they teaching you kids in schools these days?’

Barney shrugged. ‘I dunno. Maths and stuff. Not about weird animals. It doesn’t tend to help with college applications.’

Fiona Cress waved a hand at the rows of pottery creatures. Chunky bangles rattled on her wrist. ‘Binturongs are beautiful, amiable creatures of the forest canopy, much loved by the Orang
Asli people of Malaysia. And I’ve just made five hundred of them in ceramic. Had a big order from a chain of Malaysian restaurants. I take it you’re not here to collect them,
then?’

‘No,’ said Barney, eager to move the conversation away from binturongs. ‘We came here to ask you something.’

Fiona Cress narrowed her eyes. ‘Oh really? What do you want? I’m a busy woman.’

‘We want to know about the backwards robot,’ said Gabby. ‘We understand you had something to do with it.’

The lines on Fiona Cress’s face momentarily vanished as a look of astonishment swept over her features. ‘The
robot
? Good lord. I’ve haven’t thought about all
that business in decades. Who are you anyway? Why do you want to know about it?’