Lost on Mars (32 page)

‘As my boyfriend you should do what I want,' she said.

Pulling on his coat and gloves, Al laughed. ‘I don't think so, Tillian.'

Then Tillian surprised us all. She stepped forward smartly and slapped my brother in the face.

No one had ever hit Al before. He stood there swaying, as if he didn't know what had happened to him. I think we were all shocked, even Tillian herself. Her father just looked pleased, like he thought all of us young people ought to be soundly slapped into obeying his orders. Old man Graveley started chuckling. It was a horrible noise. Quite high-pitched.

Heee heeeeee heeeee…

A figure flew past me. It was a blur of speed and it took a few seconds before I realised it was Peter. He grabbed Mr Graveley by the furry collar of his fine overcoat and punched him hard in the stomach. Both men fell down at once, all crumpled limbs and lots of shouting. Tillian screeched, leaping backwards. Everyone was yelling, and all the dishes and glassware came crashing down off the dining table along with the cloth.

In the ridiculous, violent struggle Mr Graveley pointed a rigid finger at me. ‘I blame you for all of this! You rebellious malcontent! You scheming witch!'

After that I wasn't too sure about the order of events. I just knew that I wasn't going to hang around arguing with these people. And I wasn't about to let them call the Authorities out on Peter for assault and causing an affray. I just bundled my brother and my friend out of the apartment and next thing, we were aboard the elevator and hurtling down to ground level. We were escaping!

Peter was jubilant, though his nose was bleeding where Graveley had thumped him back. Al had a hand over his mouth like he was about to throw up.

Just before we reached ground level he said, ‘She actually hit me.'

‘She did,' I said. I didn't say any more. Tillian had shown herself up. Just like her father, she expected to be obeyed in all things. Far as I was concerned, Al was lucky to get this wake-up call.

We hit the Downstairs Market, which was the busiest I'd ever seen it. Peter sighed that he was missing the best night of the year for busking.

‘Is it true, Lora?' my brother asked me, taking my hand. ‘What you told me up there? You weren't just saying it, were you?'

I grinned at him. ‘Every word is true!'

43

We ran through snowy Christmas streets. Running so my lungs were bursting and I could hardly breathe. I wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time. We hadn't run like this since we lived on the prairie. Since we were wild kids, before we were respectable City dwellers.

Peter laughed, seeing us like this. He ran with us, dipping and swerving past the shoppers, the last-minute bargain-chasers. We veered into the gutters to kick the fresh pink snow, and we darted across roads through slow-moving traffic.

We hurtled underground and onto the Pipeline, cutting through the heart of the City. Jingling carols and drummers and buskers assailed us everywhere we went. We ran like our lives depended on it. Like the Graveley family and all the Authorities themselves were coming after us.

When we got to Eventide District, we went by the department store Al had talked about. The one with the famous toy department. This was his idea. He wanted to show me what he had found there.

Of course the toyshop was mobbed. We had to fight to catch a glimpse of the display. Peter talked to a lady sales assistant, distracting her as I leaned in close.

I could hardly believe what I was seeing.

It was the Homestead in miniature. It was our house, and our past, in every detail.

I wasn't planning on doing this. But next thing I knew I reached out and plucked out the figure that stood by the stove in the kitchen. I liberated the carved wooden mother and slid her into my coat pocket without anyone noticing.

Peter told us, ‘It's the big surprise hit of the season. It's the biggest-selling toy in the store. It's all the fashion, apparently…'

‘Really?' Al was delighted. But I wasn't so sure. We hurried back out of the toy department, and onto the escalators. Al asked me how much money I had with me. We both emptied our pockets to pool our resources.

‘I think we should buy presents for them,' he said. ‘For Da and Grandma, I mean. We can't turn up empty-handed, can we?'

‘I'm sure they're not expecting anything,' I said. ‘Why, until this afternoon I didn't even know they were still alive!'

Nevertheless, Al would have his way and he dithered in the ladieswear and menswear departments, picking over expensive wallets and bags, silk ties and headscarves. I knew Da and Grandma wouldn't want anything from here. They'd find these things too pricey and fancy. Also, we were wasting precious time. It was late by now and the shoppers were starting to thin out as people headed home at last.

‘Al,' I told him gently. ‘Just leave it. They aren't expecting presents. They just want us. They want to see us.'

He seemed nervous. ‘Do you think? I don't know.' He bit his lip. His face still had a mark where Tillian had slapped him. He said, ‘I feel a bit scared. What if I don't recognise them? What if they don't recognise me? We could be like strangers to each other…'

‘Is that all you're worried about?' I laughed. ‘Al – of course you'll know each other! It hasn't been all that long! And besides, they are your blood! Leave those silly, expensive presents. Peter – do you still have that address? Can you remember how to get us there?'

He nodded. ‘It isn't far. Bolingbroke District is a few blocks away.'

‘Come on, then.'

I convinced Al to put down the stuff he had been grabbing. We left the department store without having made any purchases. Except I had picked something up in there, hadn't I? With my hand in my pocket, I kept a tight grip on that small wooden model of our Ma.

We went back through the network of dark and rubbish-strewn alleys. It was a complicated business finding our way. Not all of the streets were signposted, as if these addresses wished to remain obscure. As if the streets had twisted their shapes about since our visit that very afternoon.

But after some time – and a few wrong turnings – we found the tenement building. Snow was falling heavily and the trip up those metal staircases seemed even more daunting than before. I took a deep breath and led the way. Strangely, Al didn't make a single noise of protest at the scary route. Either it didn't bother him, or he figured that we had come so far already and been through so much, a few slippery iron steps and trembling gantries weren't going to put him off now.

We climbed and climbed and climbed, past dark windows. Behind each door and each set of drawn curtains we knew families were settling down for the night and their own celebrations. And now, at last, the Robinson children were coming home, too.

‘I can't believe it,' Al said, his voice very high and young-sounding in the freezing air. ‘Thank you, Lora. And thank you, Peter.'

We were on the metal walkway of the fifth storey, at the very top of the building. Here was the red door again, the only one where the paintwork had been kept neat and spruce.

Inside they would be waiting for us. The old dame would be basting the goose in hot fat. Da would be tuning his guitar, perhaps, and later we would sing. We could sing all the old songs again.

I banged hard on the door. ‘Da! Grandma! We're here! We're back! Let us in! Happy Christmas! Let us in!'

It took a few moments for the door to be unbolted and opened. It swung inwards and for a split second I thought: what if none of it's true?

What if there was no golden light, no tinsel nor spicy fruitcake smells? No shuffling, cackling Grandma in her apron. No laughing Da?

What if we found the hallway harshly lit and quite bare? And the flat all emptied and gutted? What if it was nothing but a hideous trap, and standing there was Dean Switftnick in his top hat and cape? Policemen with him, wearing black armour and training guns on us…?

Heee heeeee heeee…!

But these were terrible, morbid thoughts. I don't even know why I was imagining such things, when everything had turned out so right.

Perhaps I just couldn't take in the facts and accept the good news yet?

Thankfully, the door opened and the apartment beyond was wonderfully warm and festive. There was music, and laughter – and both Da and Grandma were there waiting for us.

It was one of the best nights ever. That's no exaggeration.

I don't think Al and I had ever eaten so much, and Peter looked amazed by all the food that Grandma brought out of that tiny kitchen. The old lady had been working like crazy all day. She had revived all her old skills and knowhow, and she had baked like she hadn't done in years. There were pies and squashy cakes loaded with cream, and this was even before she brought out the baked ham and the roasted goose.

‘Slow down, Ma!' Da laughed. ‘You'll make them burst! Have you cooked all our holiday food at once?'

‘All of it!' she grinned. ‘I've cooked everything that we had in the cupboards and the cold store! We've got to feed these kids up! Look at how skinny they've got! Just look at them!'

It was especially nice for me, the way they took Peter in and made him feel like a part of the family. His eyes bugged out at everything. He shook Da's hand very manfully, and complimented Grandma on her new Christmas frock, even though her apron covered most of it. Peter even joined in – uncertainly at first – when Da got us all singing together. I hoped that Peter could put aside his worries about Karl, just for tonight.

Al was grinning like a loon all evening. He seemed to forget about the mess he had gotten into with Tillian and the Graveley family and he went straight back into his childhood. He tried to hide that he wept when Grandma folded him into her skinny arms. He had always been her special favourite. He reminded her of her long-lost brother, Thomas – of course, I remembered now how she used to say that all the time. She'd always had a special soft spot for Al. Now they would be inseparable again.

‘We thought you'd gone,' Al kept saying. ‘We thought you'd gone for good.' He looked at Da too, and Da ruffled his hair fondly.

This was later in the evening, when we'd all eaten our fill and the dishes were cleared away. A fire was burning merrily in the grate and we sat peacefully together by the light of the Christmas tree.

‘It must have been very hard for you,' said Da. ‘Thinking that we had gone forever.'

I nodded. ‘We thought you had been … eaten.'

Grandma gave a squawk of fright. ‘Eaten! Oh, my goodness! Who'd eat me? A tough old girl like me? Tougher than the old bird we've just demolished!'

We all laughed at her, but I could still remember what Sook had said about what the Martians did.

‘They took you away. You Disappeared. We thought they had eaten you…'

Da was frowning. ‘But that's a horrible thing to believe! That's what you've truly thought for all these months?'

I nodded. I was starting to feel a little foolish by now.

Al said, ‘We decided we had better leave Our Town and keep moving west. Into the wilderness.'

Da sighed. ‘It's always been like that for us. We've always had to keep moving across the prairies. I thought we had to keep away from the Martians. That's why we kept walking into the wilderness…'

‘But not any more,' cackled Grandma, looking glad. ‘We don't need to keep running anymore.'

She hauled herself to her feet and went off to heat up some milk, she said, so we could have a final drink before we went to sleep. She peeked out into the snowy gully between the tall buildings and declared it best if we stayed the night. We weren't going to complain about that. She told us to fetch the spare coverlets and pillows from the airing cupboard and we could make a small camp in the living room and sleep under the tree.

While Al and Peter went to deal with the bedclothes, Da held me back for a moment. ‘I know you did your best, Lore. You did the best you could to save everyone.'

‘I did, Da. I really tried.'

He said, ‘I believe they're still out there, you know. Your Ma and your sister, Hannah. Even that kronky old Toaster and mad Ruby. And we'll find them, I promise. We'll bring them here to be with us.'

‘Good,' I said. ‘But I still don't understand how you came to be here. Did the Martian Ghosts bring you to the City Inside?' I could hear Grandma singing happily in her tiny kitchen, boiling the milk. I could hear the boys messing around in the hallway, bringing duvets and things.

‘Christmas next year, we all will be together,' Da said quietly. ‘I promise you.'

I could tell that, for some reason, he wasn't going to answer all my questions tonight.

‘And you're happy to be here, in the City?' I said. ‘You don't want to return to the prairie?'

He surprised me then. ‘Things are better here, Lora. Don't you think so?'

‘I – I'm not sure…'