The Switchers Trilogy - Part 21
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Part 21

'What's going on, Tess?' she said, sitting down in the chair and leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. The tone of concern in her voice almost disarmed Tess, but she recovered her guard just in time.

'Nothing's going on,' she said. 'Absolutely nothing.'

'Then why were you so unpleasant to your father?'

Tess sighed in exasperation, as though she was talking to an idiot. 'I wasn't rude to my father as a matter of fact,' she said. 'For the first time in my life I was honest with my father. It's the same every evening. He comes home from work and he says, "How was school, Tess?" "Did anything interesting happen in school today?" "Anything happening at school these days?"'

'But what's wrong with that?' said her mother.

'What's wrong with that is that he couldn't care less what's happening at school. If I told him the place burnt down and I carried the piano out on my back he'd just say, "That's good. What's for dinner?"'

'Oh, Tess. That's not fair.'

'It is fair. The truth is always fair.'

'And how do you come to be such an expert on the truth?' Her mother stood up and moved over to draw the curtains as she spoke.

'Leave them,' said Tess.

'I was just going to close them, that's all. Keep the heat in.'

'I like them open. Leave them.'

Tess's mother walked back to the chair, but she didn't sit down. 'Now, you listen to me, Tess,' she began.

'I'm listening.'

'There's a possibility that you might be right about your father ...'

'I am.'

'... Some of the time, that is. But as it happens, you were wrong today.'

'Oh?'

'Oh. Yes, oh. Your father has arranged to take the day off work tomorrow. He was about to ask you if it would be all right for you to take the day off school.'

Tess's eyes widened and she looked at her mother for the first time as she went on, 'He was planning for us all to get up at crack of dawn and go over to the zoo.'

'The zoo?'

'Yes. The zoo. There's going to be an awful crowd there tomorrow.' She paused, looking into Tess's blank face. 'Have you forgotten?'

'Forgotten what?'

'They're going to let the public in to see that bird they caught the other night.'

Tess sat up on the edge of the bed and stared into the middle distance. How could it have happened? How could she possibly have forgotten the phoenix? Not just for a few moments, but absolutely. She was quite certain that if her mother hadn't reminded her she would never have remembered it again. For the first time since she had a.s.sumed the vampire form, the horror of what she had done became clear to her. A desperate confusion flooded her mind as the phoenix memories returned and began to edge out the cold vampire complacency.

Her mother waited for a few moments, then said, 'Now. I've spoken to your father and he's still willing to go if you promise to think about your behaviour this evening. He doesn't want an apology: just a nice day out tomorrow and a bit more consideration in future. What do you say?'

Tess looked up, her face quite changed now. She nodded. 'I have to go,' she said.

'You don't have to,' said her mother, 'but it'd be a shame to miss the opportunity.'

Tess shook her head. 'I have to go,' she said again. Her mother put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze, then crossed the room towards the door. Tess found her shoes and began to put them on.

'And I will apologise,' she said.

As Tess watched TV with her parents that evening she had no awareness of what was going on beneath her. The city's rats, with Algernon somewhere among them, were digging, scratching, burrowing away, radiating outwards like the spokes of a wheel, still following their master's orders.

Most of the city underground had already been covered, since it had been dug up for foundations, and for sewerage, gas and electric systems. But directly beneath Tess's house, the rats were moving, breaking new ground as they pushed outwards into the unknown territory which lay beneath the park.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

BEFORE SEVEN O'CLOCK THE following morning, Tess and her parents were standing outside the Dublin Zoo. Despite the early hour and the hard frost which had coated every leaf and blade of gra.s.s with silvery rime, there was already quite a queue of people there before them. The first ones in the line were wrapped in sleeping bags and blankets, and one or two gas stoves burned with yellow-blue flames beneath the street lights, brewing tea for cold campers.

Tess joined the line, pulling her pony tail out of the collar of her jacket and tightening the draw cords at her throat. Her father gave the pony tail an affectionate tug in an effort to break through the awkwardness which still lay between them. She gave him the best smile she could manage, but it wasn't great. Apart from anything else, Tess was desperately tired. She hadn't Switched at all the previous night; in her confusion she had decided to sleep on the problem in the hope that things would make more sense in the morning. But in the end she had found it impossible to sleep at all, and had spent the entire night in a terrible conflict with herself; swinging between her love for the phoenix and its ethereal existence and her desire for the bittersweet pleasures of the vampire. When her mother had come to call her at six-thirty, she had felt an enormous sense of relief, but it hadn't lasted long. Already the vampire side of her mind had begun to eat into her resolve to visit the phoenix. What was the point, after all? Why should she stand for hours in the freezing cold just for the sake of getting a glimpse of a namby-pamby bird that she had already seen?

The lights came on in the zoo, but there was still no sign of any activity at the gates. Tess shuddered as the frost bit deep into her tired bones. In an effort to close the contradictory voices out of her mind, she began to look around at the crowd. There were all kinds of people there, from new age 'crusties' with long-haired children to pin-striped businessmen who blew on their hands and stamped their polished brogues against the cold tarmac. The majority, though, seemed to be the type of people that Tess imagined would shoot birds rather than watch them; they wore waxed jackets or faded green anoraks with jeans and walking boots or green Wellingtons. The most noticeable thing about them was that they didn't seem to feel the cold as much as everyone else, but stood around in small groups chatting to each other as though they were quite accustomed to being out in the frost before dawn.

Tess examined the lines of parked cars and tried to match the people to their transport. There were a couple of brightly-coloured vans, a dormobile with dim lights on inside, several saloon cars with recent registration plates, a Morris Minor and four Land Rovers. As Tess watched, another one arrived, its diesel engine growling sweetly as it slowed and pulled into a s.p.a.ce at the head of the line.

'I suppose it's too early to start on the breakfast?' said Tess's father.

'Of course it is,' said her mother. 'We've got three hours to wait before the gates open.'

'What do you think, Tess?' said her father, with a conspiratorial nudge of his elbow.

'I don't mind,' she said. She was still watching the Land Rover, expecting it to be loaded to the gills with Labrador dogs and men in deer-stalker hats.

'Just a cup of coffee?' said her father, in a wheedling voice.

The back door of the Land Rover opened and a huddle of children spilled out, stretching and yawning, their breath rising in misty clouds around them. The driver's door slammed and a man in a cloth cap walked around the bonnet, then went back to his own side to turn out the headlights.

Tess's mother conceded. 'All right. Just a small cup, though.'

The pa.s.senger door opened and swung back and forth on its hinges as a small figure manoeuvred around with considerable difficulty, until she was sitting sideways on the seat. The man in the cloth cap hurried round to help, and a moment later the elderly woman descended, stiffly but safely, on to the road.

Tess recognised her immediately. It was Lizzie, the eccentric old woman who had once been a Switcher herself, and had sent Tess and Kevin to the Arctic to do battle with the krools. Without thinking, Tess raced away from her parents and across the road, narrowly avoiding a minibus that was crawling along, looking for a s.p.a.ce to park. Lizzie dropped her walking stick in surprise as Tess appeared at her side and flung her arms around her.

'Careful, girl! Careful of my old bones!' Lizzie suffered Tess's embrace for a moment or two, then extricated herself. 'This cold has me rusted up so I can hardly move!'

Tess stepped back and beamed at her friend. 'I never dreamt that you'd come,' she said. 'How did you know?'

'How did I know what?'

'How did you know that it was ...' Tess stopped just in time, alerted by a fierce warning glint in Lizzie's eyes. The oldest of the four children, a girl of about nine, bent down to retrieve Lizzie's stick and handed it to her. The others stood in a shivering huddle on the road. Behind them, another Land Rover pulled up and waited for them to move.

But Lizzie was in no hurry. 'This is Mr Quinn, my neighbour,' she said. 'I told you about him, didn't I? He keeps his cattle on my land, and he helped me out that time when the weather was so bad. At least, some of the time.' She cast a surly glance at Mr Quinn, who cleared his throat and looked the other way. 'This here is Tessie,' Lizzie went on, 'who came snooping round my place last year with her young friend. What was his name again?'

'Kevin,' said Tess, nodding in greeting towards Mr Quinn. She was embarra.s.sed now that her initial delight at seeing Lizzie had evaporated. Worse than that, she was unsure how she was going to explain the eccentric old woman to her parents.

'And as for how I knows,' Lizzie was saying, looking pointedly at Tess, 'I read it in the newspapers like everyone else.'

Tess nodded, shamefaced. The driver of the waiting Land Rover honked his horn and the small group began to make their way towards the opposite pavement, all of them moving at a snail's pace to accommodate Lizzie's arthritis. Tess's mother was waiting for them on the footpath, and Tess cast around in her mind for some way of explaining Lizzie. There was no time to think, and she had to say something.

'Mother. This is Lizzie.'

The old woman stretched out a thin crooked hand, which Tess's mother accepted, a little reluctantly.

'Elizabeth Larkin,' said Lizzie, pompously, 'of Tibradden, County Dublin. I offered your daughter my hospitality during that cold snap we had that time.'

Tess's mother would never forget the 'cold snap', when her daughter had gone missing without warning and not returned until the thaw set in. Tess watched her face. She had never told her parents anything about what happened when she went away the previous year with Kevin, and they had never asked. She could see her mother's perplexity as she took in this information, knowing that it would do nothing to explain her disappearance but merely add to the mystery. Tess was afraid that she would ask Lizzie for more information but Lizzie was, as usual, a step ahead of her.

'This is my neighbour, Mr Quinn,' she said. 'He has most kindly brought me in to get a look at this funny pheasant, and I mustn't keep him waiting around. So nice to meet you.' With an authoritative air, Lizzie struck her cane on the frosty pavement and began to make her way towards the end of the rapidly lengthening queue.

Tess looked after them, surprised by the strength of her feelings for the old woman. When she had first seen her a few moments ago, she had felt that she had an ally, that she no longer had to face the current confusion alone. Now she wasn't so sure. Her heart was heavy as she and her mother made their way back to her father, who had stayed behind to hold their place.

'Who on earth was that?' he said.

'Lizzie. A mad old woman I met last year.'

'Where did you meet her? When?'

Tess was irritated by the questions. It hadn't been enough just to say h.e.l.lo to Lizzie. She badly wanted to talk to her. In the end it was her mother who had to fill the silence and answer her father's questions.

'She put Tess up during the snowstorms, apparently. Why didn't you tell us about her, Tess?'

Tess shrugged. Her parents looked at each other. Tess had always been secretive about her disappearance, and they had learnt not to pry. Nevertheless, the silence was full of tension. After a few minutes Tess said, 'Why don't you two have a cup of coffee? I fancy a wander around. I won't be long.'

Without waiting for a reply, she ducked out of the queue and made her way back along the side of the straggling crowds until she found Lizzie, standing a little to one side and leaning on her stick. People were streaming into the park now, some of them on foot, others in cars or coaches which pulled up beside the gates to unload. Tess was puzzled by the numbers. The capture of the bird had created a lot of publicity, but she wouldn't have expected so many people to turn out.

As though she were reading Tess's mind, Lizzie spoke.

'People is looking for something,' she said. 'There's nothing left to believe in, and people wants something new.'

Tess nodded, looking round at the faces in the crowd. There was something in what Lizzie had said; a deeper emotion than simple curiosity shone in the expressions of the people all around her. There was an eagerness, almost a hunger, to witness the mystery that was residing in the zoo buildings ahead.

Lizzie left firm instructions with the youngest of Mr Quinn's children to hold her place in the line. The child nodded, an expression of utter terror on her face. Her father ruffled her hair and offered to help with the job, and the child relaxed. Lizzie's body might have been old and frail, but she had a powerful personality and Tess could well understand how a small child might be intimidated by her. She smiled encouragingly and wondered, as she often did, whether that child had discovered the ability to Switch and, if she had, where it might lead her.

The sun was just rising as she and Lizzie made their slow way towards a stand of sycamore trees on the other side of the road. Sunlight might be beginning to overpower the streetlights, but it would be a long time before it made any significant impression on the crisp white frost underfoot.

'You's worried, girl,' said Lizzie as she propped herself carefully against the scaly trunk of one of the trees.

Tess sat down on a protruding root and nodded. 'Do you know who this bird is?' she said.

'Of course I do!' said Lizzie. 'He would have had something to answer for if he hadn't come to see me!'

'I suppose so,' said Tess, though somehow she couldn't imagine the phoenix answering to anyone, no matter what the call. 'The question is, though, how do we get him out of there?'

Lizzie nodded slowly and looked over towards the zoo. 'I suppose he has to come out, sooner or later.'

'But of course he has to come out! How could you think of leaving him in there?'

'Well, he can't come to any harm, can he? He'll always rise up again, won't he, whatever happens? He'll be rising up again after you and me and the zoo is long since gone and forgotten.'

'But he can't stay in captivity all his life! Or all his lives, whatever way you want to put it. And we've only got a week to get him out!'

'I wouldn't say it bothers him too much where he is,' said Lizzie. 'He is what he is; here, there, or anywhere else he might happen to be.'

Tess tried to resist what Lizzie was saying, but when she thought about it, she had to admit that it was true. The bliss of the phoenix existed in being, not in doing. Why should it matter to him where he was?

But Lizzie, true to form, had not finished confusing Tess yet.

'Still, he has to come out, all the same,' she was saying, 'though I isn't sure it'll be enough to make the difference.'

'Make what difference?'

Lizzie sighed and shifted uncomfortably. 'I's sure you knows already, girl, but if I has to explain it then I will. As best I can, that is.'

'Go on.'

'There is a great light in this city, and within the next hour or two people are going to be pouring in through these gates to see it. Every person who sees it is going to be affected by it. You mark my words: that bird in there will change people's lives.'

'Really?'

Lizzie nodded. 'For a while, anyway. But the truth about this world is that wherever there's light there has to be darkness, and as soon as that bird came into existence some nastiness was born to balance it out. What's more, I's as sure as I can be that where the evil is based isn't a million miles from here.'

She looked pointedly at Tess, who felt her mind cloud over with suspicion. What did the old woman know? What business was it of hers, anyway? For a moment the sunlight which was beginning to break through the branches overhead felt intolerable to her. Then, as quickly as it had come, the feeling pa.s.sed away, leaving Tess in a turmoil of confusion.

'But what should I do, Lizzie?' she said, trying to hide the desperation which was edging into her voice. 'How do I choose?'

Lizzie shrugged. 'We all has to choose at some stage, girl,' she said. 'But it may not be as difficult as you thinks it is. Sometimes it isn't choices that is difficult, but the way we looks at them. It's not always what we are that needs changing, but the way we thinks. You know what I mean?'

'No!' said Tess. 'I have no idea what you mean.'

Lizzie was about to reply when her attention was caught by Tess's father running towards them across the gra.s.s.

'They've opened the gates early,' he called breathlessly. 'We'd better get back in line.'