Losing the Plot (5 page)

“Hey, where did that come from?” I said, startled. “This isn’t a contest, you know.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s an out-and-out bad guy,” said Reuben comfortingly. “A bit full of himself, maybe. It’s probably hormones.”

Lola was in such a state, that she actually stamped. “It’s not his hormones. It’s his
heart
, you idiot! All he thinks about is getting people to do what he wants. He’s on the make, twenty-four hours a day. It’s like he can’t stop.”

She told us that after Nick left the Feathers the previous evening, he’d stopped off at various shady gambling dens, ending up at some total dive where people were forcing this poor ape to ride around on a horse.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“These half-starved bulldogs were just waiting for it to fall off! And Nick watched,” she choked.

I put my arm around her. “But that doesn’t make him a bad person, Lollie. You said yourself, animal rights haven’t been invented yet.”

“Boo, he was actually
laughing
. He thought was
funny
!” Lola hid her face in her hands. “Then we finally got back to his place, and he fell asleep and all that cruelty just melted away. And I watched him sleeping. He has such beautiful dreams,” she said earnestly. “And it’s like I saw the real him.”

I had a flash of inspiration. “You think he’s our glitch, don’t you?”

“Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know,” she said wretchedly.

As we watched, Nick pushed back his hair and smiled into Cat’s eyes.

Lola’s right
, I thought.
It has to be him. He clever and gorgeous, but he’s just too smooth for his own good
.

Reuben beamed at Lola. “This is great! We finally know what we’re doing here.”

“Yeah! Dingaling!” I did a bad impersonation of an alarm clock. “We have to wake up Golden Boy and save him from himself.”

I told myself this was the right, the only, decision, Chance was a real character but basically a loser. Cat was fabulous, but as an Elizabethan girl, her career prospects were painfully limited.

We’re professionals
, I told myself bravely.
We aren’t allowed to have favourites
. And on that basis, we didn’t exactly have a choice. We had to nominate talented go-getting Nick as Elizabethan Human Most Likely to Succeed.

“So that’s settled,” I said. “We’ll get dishy Nick Ducket back on track and everything will be cool.”

“Phew! What a relief,” said Reuben.

And like people in a toothpaste ad, we gave each other big cheesy smiles.

Chapter Five

W
e were down by the docks, dangling our feet off a jetty, three angels and three humans sitting in a row listening to Nick pitch his latest money-making scheme.

While Chance and Reuben were listening, me and Lola had tuned-out, the minute we realised Nick was proposing some dodgy gambling scam. I’m thick when it comes to cards and Lola was just depressed. Here we were, mad keen to help Nick become his new improved self, and he totally wouldn’t co-operate!

I had a feeling Cat was thinking about her dad. She kept glancing wistfully at the sailing ships riding at anchor in the harbour.

I love the smell of docks: salt and tar and fresh wood shavings.
Mmn!
I shut my eyes to take a really good sniff, and was impressed to see gold sparkles dancing inside my closed eyelids.

“I’m getting cosmic sparkles!” I said excitedly.

Lola instantly shut her eyes. “Me too! Wonder what that’s about?”

“Could it be something to do with that little feel-good vibe they’ve got going here?” I said tentatively.

“I suppose!” Lola had lifted her face to the sun, enjoying the rays.

“Maybe it’s because the Elizabethan world has like, totally opened up,” I suggested. “Exciting new lands to explore. New discoveries. You can practically taste the excitement in the air.”

Especially here
, I thought dreamily,
with all these beautiful ships getting ready to sail who knows where
.

Lola frowned. “I’ll tell you what’s weird, Boo. I mean, this has to be the vibiest time we’ve visited so far.”

“Totally,” I agreed.

“So, why isn’t the place stiff with angels? I haven’t seen a single cosmic agent of any description, have you?”

“Actually, no—” I began.

“Will you shut up!” Reuben grumbled. “I’m trying to make sense of all this underworld lingo Nick’s spouting. What is a ‘fingerer’, anyway?”

Lola sighed. “He’s trying to involve Cat in a sting

“A what?” said Reuben.

“A hustle,” I suggested. “A scam?”

Reuben still looked blank.

“OK,” said Lola trying another tack. “Did they tell you about gambling on your Earth Skills course?”

“Kind of,” he said cautiously. “Not sure I got it, though.”

“Nick wants Cat to dupe someone into thinking he’s playing cards with a pair of total bozos, then he and Chance will take him for everything he’s got

“Cat will never go along with it,” Reuben said firmly. “Will she, Mel?”

Lola sighed. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but Nick has a way of making people do what he wants.”

“I’m talking about some law student fresh up from the country,” Nick was saying smoothly. “If we don’t empty his pockets, someone else will.”

Cat frowned. “And if we get caught?”

“We won’t,” he said impatiently. “Besides, Chance and I are taking all the risks. You will just be our innocent go-between.”

She chewed her lip, and I could tell she wanted to give the impression that she was calmly weighing up various pros and cons.

Poor Cat. I completely understood what she was going through. I mean, she didn’t want Nick to think she was a pushover. On the other hand, no-one wants to look like a wuss in front of their mates, do they? Plus I think Nick giving her that rose had made her feel all mixed up inside. Basically, the bottom line was that she fancied him too much to say no.

“Well, maybe just this once,” she agreed reluctantly.

Nick was delighted. “That’s my Cat!”

This boy is way too cocky
, I thought, fuming.

“I’ll buy you a new necklace out of our winnings,” he said impulsively. “Instead of those childish shells you wear.”

Cat glowered at him. “I just want my share. I can buy my own jewellery, thank you, Nick Ducket.”

The trio set off in the general direction of London Bridge, with us angels following close behind. Reuben was fretting. “You can’t blame Chance. He’s permanently broke. Also he hero-worships Nick. But Nick seems like he’s quite rich. And what if his scam goes wrong? What if the others come unstuck, because of him?”

“Maybe they won’t,” I suggested. “Maybe it’ll be a doddle, like Nick says, and they’ll just grab the money and run.”

My mates looked shocked.

“Oh, come
on
,” I said. “Humans get away with dodgy stuff all the time.”

The gaming house was attached to a riverside tavern called The Fleece. It was hardly a glitzy casino, just a room with too many tables, not enough light and almost no fresh air.

Serving wenches bustled about with refreshments, but you could tell food and drink were not the point of this place. Money - winning it, losing it - that was the point. The air was jittery with anxiety.

Just inside the door, an Irishman with a silky hypnotist’s voice was making three cards fly around a table as if they had a life of their own.

“Keep your eyes on the Lady, my fine sirs,” he crooned. “Don’t look away. No, not for a second.” But when he turned the cards over, the gamblers groaned with disappointment. He shook his head sorrowfully. “Didn’t I warn you to be careful?”

Reuben was beside himself with excitement. “I just spotted a whatsisname! A sting!”

Lola burst out laughing. “I should hope you did! No-one ever wins ‘Find The Lady’.”

All this time, Nick and Chance had been scanning the gaming house for potential victims. Now they’d clocked one, a shiny-faced law student, bragging to anyone who would listen.

At a signal from Nick, Cat moved in and instantly went into a sexy simpleton routine.

“Two young gentlemen over there have been watching you play cards, sir,” she said in a country voice. “And they noted your prow - prow - Oh, I dunno, ‘tis a word which means ‘great skill’.”

Loudmouth scratched his neck inside its ruff. “Prowess,” he corrected her conceitedly.

“Prowess! The very word.” Cat gave him a wide-eyed smile. “Anyway, they sent me to inquire if you would care to play cards. They are willing to risk all the money they have with them, for the great honour of playing with such as you.” She bobbed a little curtsey.

“Then I mustn’t disappoint them,” he smirked.

Nick really had a knack for knowing what made people tick. This student was greedy as well as boastful, also not too bright.

The boys played so badly, it was embarrassing. Chance was even more bumbling and pathetic than usual. Naturally, Loudmouth cleaned them out. But just as their victim got up from the table, Nick gave this hammy gasp of surprise.

“I quite forgot! I have my rent money hidden inside my shirt, for safekeeping. Would you do us the honour of playing again?” he pleaded.

I couldn’t believe Loudmouth would fall for it. But like I said, he wasn’t too bright. His eyes lit up with pure greed. “Let’s play for everything in our purses! And perhaps your luck will change?” he added, obviously thinking they were gluttons for punishment.

Their luck did change - dramatically. Nick and Chance revealed totally unsuspected gambling skills, and Loudmouth lost the lot, including the money he’d won from Nick and Chance.

Nick and his mates fled with their winnings, flushed with excitement.

“Smooth as cream,” Nick gloated. “Here is your prize, Cat.”

Cat hastily stowed her share inside her bodice.
I do hope she isn’t turning into a gangster’s moll
, I thought anxiously.

Reuben sagged with relief. “You were right, Mel. They pulled it off.”

“Looks like it,” I agreed.

Nick and Chance took Cat to the playhouse to celebrate.

We’d just joined the massive queue outside, when Nick frowned. “I forgot my pomander,” he complained. “I’m going to buy some oranges.” And he disappeared into the crowd.

Lola and Reuben exchanged baffled glances.

“Was that like, code?” asked Lola.

I grinned. “Haven’t you noticed those fancy fashion items some people have hanging from their belts?”

“Those little pepperpot thingies?” said Lola.

I nodded. “Well, they’re filled with incredibly strong perfume.”

(All right, so I might have read up on the Tudors a
teensy
bit. I mean, once you get into it, it’s quite juicy!)

“OK,” Lola said cautiously. “And Elizabethans do this because…?”

“Because they have this theory that disease is caused by bad smells.”

Reuben pulled a face. “You can see why! Have you ever smelled so many unwashed humans in your life?”

Chance was wandering up and down the queue, chatting to various acquaintances. He had this incredible ability to get on with people from all walks of life. One minute he was talking about fetlocks to a groom, then, minutes later, I heard him swapping leather-making jargon with someone.

“Your boy’s networking,” I giggled to Reuben.

“My boy’s a total chameleon, more like,” he sighed.

When Chance rejoined her, Cat gave him one of her looks. “You are the strangest boy,” she said. “You write like an Oxford scholar, yet you never know where your next meal is coming from. Don’t you ever want to follow a trade like a normal person?”

Chance looked appalled. “Seven years working for the same master? The same work day after day, for no wages? Every day the
same
?” He shuddered. “I’d rather you sent for the constables and had me thrown in Newgate jail.”

“But what will become of you?” Cat said in an anxious voice.

His eyes grew hazy with worry. “I don’t know. Some nights, I wake in a sweat, wondering why I was ever—”

He was interrupted by a blare of noise. An actor from the playhouse was blowing loud blasts on a trumpet - our signal to go in.

Nick caught up with his friends, tossing an orange to each of them as they filed in through the great carved doors. They rubbed the peel on the insides of their wrists, solemnly sniffing the perfume.

“Oh,
I
get it,” grinned Lola. “Smart move.”

I’d only been to the theatre once before, on a school trip, and it didn’t leave much impression to be honest. I just remember miles of carpet and v. hard seats, which we had to sit on for like, hours and hours.

Well, there was no carpet at the Lion. And the roof had a massive hole cut into it. You could actually see clouds floating overhead!

I’d assumed our kids’ tickets would entitle them to seats, in this swanky grandstand affair at the side. But that cost an extra penny apparently (like, wow!). So we stood out in the open, with all the other hard-up folk. Groundlings, as you’re meant to call them.

The really posh patrons, lords and ladies and so on, had the spiffiest seats at the side of the stage. Actually, I think the groundlings enjoyed looking at them as much as the show.