Page 17 of Out of the Blue
Allie gives me an approving nod. ‘How many feathers did she lose?’
My insides jitter at the mention of her feathers. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe a third of them? It looked like a lot, anyway.’
Something begins to buzz. The Being starts, looking around for the noise. Allie reaches into her satchel, pulls out her phone and swipes the call away. Calum begins to say something, but his sister glowers at him and he shuts his mouth with a snap. After putting the phone away, she pulls out a small purple notebook with a pen clipped to the spine.
‘What’s that?’ I ask, as she flicks through the pages.
‘Her oh-so-secret notebook.’ Calum’s voice rises two octaves. ‘Dear Diary, Today I skived off English and made out with Filip Rutkowski behind the Sainsbury’s on Middle Meadow Walk and—’
‘Piss off, Calum. What are you, twelve?’ Allie rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. ‘It’s not even a diary. I just write stuff in it. Nothing exciting. Anyway –’ she turns back to the Being – ‘what are we going to call you? If you can’t tell us your own name, maybe we should give you a new one.’
I blink. Stupid as it sounds, I hadn’t even thought of naming the Being. It would be like trying to name the rain. ‘Um, I dunno. Any suggestions?’
‘Nothing cheesy,’ Calum says firmly. ‘Nothing like Angelique or Celeste or whatever. Something normal.’
‘Arthur?’ says Allie. ‘She fell on Arthur’s Seat, after all.’
‘That’s a guy’s name, you knob. You might as well call her Gavin, or Steve.’
‘I know, but you could call her, like, Arthurette or whatever. Arthurella. No, Arthurina!’
‘That’s even worse.’ Calum chucks a scrunched-up teacake wrapper at his sister, then pauses. ‘How about Teacake? Seeing as she likes them so much.’
Teacake. It’s the sort of thing that Rani would have suggested, but coming from Calum it sounds quirky rather than twee. I look at the Being: her garnet eyes and the sharp curve of her wings, still regal despite the damage the Fall has caused. Her name should be majestic. Something that soars and sweeps. Something wild. I would have named her after a bird. Goshawk, or Starling, or Kite. This sweet, sugary, artificial word shouldn’t suit her.
But it does.
Somehow, it’s sort of perfect.
‘Teacake,’ I say, looking at her. She licks the last of the marshmallow from the biscuit. ‘That works.’
Allie nods. ‘More of a Caramel Wafer fan, myself, but I like it. Nice one, Calamari.’
She gives him a high five, then holds her hand up for Teacake to slap. She looks at it, her head cocked to one side, then reaches for another biscuit. After a moment, there’s another buzzing sound. This time, it’s Calum who pulls out his phone. He and Allie exchange a look.
‘We really should go, Al,’ he says. ‘It’s late. They’ll be getting worried.’
Allie’s shoulders heave. ‘God’s sake, Calum. We’re not five years old. Besides, I’ve got the car.’
‘I know that, but it’s me who’ll get the—’
‘All right, fine!’ She gives me an apologetic look as they get up to leave. ‘Sorry. Our parents are like something out of a Jane Austen novel. They’d send me out with a chaperone if they could.’
She turns to Teacake, who has picked up one of Shona’s elephants and is turning it around in her hands. She blanches when she notices us looking at her and shoves it back on the mantelpiece.
‘So, what are we going to do?’ Allie asks her, as she slips her feet back into her shoes. ‘You can’t stay here forever. How are we going to help you?’
I hold back a smile at the ‘we’. This isn’t just my secret any more, and it’s not only my problem. It’s ours. She’sourresponsibility. If this were a superhero movie, this would be our origins moment – we’d be on the brink of a high-power training montage set to ‘Eye of the Tiger’.
‘I’m not handing you over,’ I tell Teacake, folding my arms. ‘I don’t trust anyone else. All the adults I know would trade you for a reward. I mean, look at the crowds outside,’ I say, turning to Allie and Calum. ‘No one cares about the Beings. Not really.’
The twins nod. Even Calum, who half an hour ago sounded like he was ready to ship her off to the nearest lab for a few shiny pound coins. It’s harder to betray something with a name.
There’s a heavy silence as each of us thinks. Finally, Allie puts her hands on her hips and nods.
‘You’re right. We can’t trust anyone else.’ She pushes her hair behind her ears, suddenly business-like, and looks at Calum and me. ‘There’s really only one thing we can do.’
‘What?’ I say dumbly.
