THE H-BOMB GIRL Stephen Baxter (ebook and pdf reader TXT) 📖

Laura was jammed in between Nick and Bert, three of them on a scooter meant for two. Bernadette and Joel piled on behind Mickey Poole.

The Vespas roared away. Laura felt a deep surge in her stomach as the acceleration cut in, and the wind whipped back her hair. She wished she had a helmet.

“They’re following!” Bert shouted.

Laura looked back. That green army truck had come barrelling out of the school gates, scattering kids as it went.

Nick grinned. “Not for long!” He hauled the handlebars to the right.

Laura was wrenched sideways, and she nearly let go of Nick. They drove over somebody’s front lawn, through an alleyway between two semis, over a back garden that was half dug up for vegetables, and then squirted through an open gate. It was terrifying. Nick didn’t slow down for a second, even though both Laura and Bert yelled. Nick’s mood had switched from miserable to manic in an instant.

But it worked. Mickey and the others were still following, but they had lost the army truck.

Chapter 17

At the Jive-O-Rama they piled off, breathing hard, exhilarated by the ride.

Bernadette fixed her hair with quick pushes from her fingers. Then she turned on Nick. “Are you crazy? They must know we hang around here. They’ll be down like a shot.”

“With a shot,” Bert Muldoon said gloomily. “Did you see those rifles?”

Nick lit up a ciggie and began dragging on it furiously. He walked backwards and forwards, and every so often he lifted his hand to his head. He pointed at Joel. “Don’t blame me. His idea.”

“Come on,” Joel said. “We got our skins saved here once before. By her.” He pointed to the doorway to the cellar.

Agatha’s face loomed out of the darkness. Laura thought she saw her lips move, silently mouthing words. Hello, Mum.

Laura shivered. Agatha ducked out of sight.

“She’s spooky but she helps us,” Joel said. “And, anyway, anybody got a better plan?”

“All right,” Bernadette said. “Let’s just get inside. And hide these scooters.”

Bert and Mickey wheeled the scooters round the back of the house.

The others clattered through the open doorway. Joel ran his hand up and down the door frame. “What happened to the door?” It was missing. The hinges had been unscrewed and ripped out of the paint.

At the bottom of the stairs, there was no Little Jimmy, and nobody in the cellar club. The cellar was cluttered with lumber, and mattresses were piled up against one wall. They waited, uncertain.

Bernadette called, “Big Jimmy? You open?”

Big Jimmy appeared out from under the heap of mattresses. He wiped his hands on a rag and came over. He grinned, but it looked forced. “How’s my best customers today?”

Nobody replied.

“Like that, huh? Well, I don’t think Mister Heath has impounded the last of my coffee yet. What is it, espressos all round? Agatha!”

“We haven’t paid our door money,” Bernadette said. “Where’s Little Jimmy? Skiving off?”

Big Jimmy said, “They took him away.” He kept smiling bravely.

“Who?”

“Mister Heath. Big green Corpy bus came by. Out of Service, it said. Full of kids. Out came a scuffer. Our Jimmy was on his list. Evacuated.”

“Where to?”

“Lake District. Had to pack him a suitcase. You should have seen him struggling with the great big thing.” His grin faltered.

Laura asked, “Why didn’t you go with him?”

“Scuffers wouldn’t let me. Kids only. Mums can follow later. Of course Jimmy’s mum’s dead anyway. So he’s on his own.”

“So we’re about to go to war, and they break up families,” Bernadette said. “Brilliant.”

“It’s what they did last time,” Laura said, thinking of Mum.

Jimmy said, “Ten million people they’ll be moving, they told me.”

Laura wanted to hug him for comfort, but she knew it would be the wrong thing to do.

They sat at a table. Nick lit up another ciggie from the stub of the last one.

Agatha brought out coffees. She leant over Laura. She smelled of washing-up liquid, bleach and coffee. But there was another scent, something milky underneath, that somehow drew Laura to her.

“You did right,” Agatha said to Laura.

“What?”

“To come here. Have you got it?”

“Have I got what?”

“Your diary.”

Laura tried not to look down at the lump in her blazer, the diary in her inside pocket. “How do you know about that?”

Agatha whispered, “I knew you’d have it. It has to be there. To close the loop.”

“What loop?”

“The loop in time. The loop connecting future to past.” She turned and walked away.

Mickey said, “That woman’s scary.”

Bert said, “You’d still give her one, though.”

They both laughed.

There was a warbling, like a bird. They all looked at each other.

Bernadette swore. She dug in her handbag and pulled out the “phone.” It was flashing blue, and making that shrill sound.

“Nice fag case,” Bert said.

“It’s not a fag case,” Nick said.

“Then what?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Mickey and Bert shrugged.

Tentatively Bernadette opened the phone. The warbling stopped. Then she swivelled the phone around on the tabletop so Laura could see. “Guess who it’s for.”

Laura peered into the tiny screen.

Text Message

FROM: Miss Wells

TO: Laura

MESSAGE: You can run but you can’t hide. Old line but true. Any time you need help press the button with the little green phone.

Laura snapped shut the phone. It sat on the tabletop.

They all stared at it, as if it was an unexploded bomb.

“We ought to get rid of that thing,” Joel said. “They might be able to track it. Find us that way.”

Bernadette said, “Let’s smash it up. Jimmy’s got a hammer.”

“No.” Laura closed her hand over the phone and put it in her pocket. “We ought to keep it.”

“Why?”

“You never know. I’ll take the risk.”

Nick turned his ravaged face to her, his eyes masked. “But if we stay together we all share the same risk. Don’t you see that much, you stupid little bint?”

Laura was shocked.

Bert said, “That kicking you got has done wonders for your charm, mate.”

Jimmy’s hammering got louder.

“Oh, for chuff’s sake.” Nick buried his head in his hands.

Laura wanted to get away from the atmosphere at the table. She got up and walked over to the