The TV Time Travellers Page 11
‘Not by us though,’ I called out. ‘Harriet totally fooled everyone, including me.’
Wally did his impression of someone sucking a really sour sweet and then said to me, ‘When will you learn you are back in wartime Britain where children only speak when they are spoken to?’ He continued, ‘Your cover has been blown, Harriet, so now you must be evicted.’ And at a signal from him the door opened and that woman in the Second World War uniform suddenly appeared again. ‘Security will escort you away. Goodbye, Harriet.’
Harriet gazed round at the woman waiting for her and then turned to Wally. ‘I hope Zac can stay now.’ He didn’t answer. Indeed, he seemed to be acting as if she’d already left. Harriet got to her feet and shrugged her shoulders. ‘So that’s it, I’m out of here.’ She nodded at the woman. ‘It’s all right, I’ll come quietly. You won’t need any tranquillizer darts. Best of luck, everyone.’
We all called out to Harriet, ‘See you soon’ and ‘Good luck.’ And then she was gone. I remember watching a pantomime once where this character suddenly disappeared down a trap door. It really horrified me. And now I felt as if that’s what had just happened to Harriet.
Leo raised his hand.
‘Yes, what is it?’ snapped Wally.
‘Excuse me raising this question with you, your great eminence,’ said Leo, ‘but I’d just like to know why you have very sneakily been bugging our rooms?’
I thought Wally might really be angered by this question and Leo’s sarky tone, but strangely he didn’t seem to be. Instead he said smoothly, ‘Because we wanted to get something completely natural and capture some very honest moments. This we have certainly achieved, and we believe the results justify our very minor subterfuge.’ Before any of us could reply he went on, his voice absolutely brimming with authority now. ‘Tomorrow, one new person will be joining Strictly Evacuees. There may well be others. For now, I am trusting you two’ – he nodded at Leo and me – ‘to go straight back to the farm and have your tea. I will join you there shortly and tell you about tomorrow’s very special group challenge. For now, though, you are dismissed.’
‘What about Zac?’ called out Leo.
‘I’ll be all right,’ whispered Zac. ‘You go.’
‘Zac is not your concern,’ snapped Wally. ‘Leave him to Miss Weed and me.’ As Wally said this he glanced across at her. Normally Miss Weed gazed up adoringly at him as he spoke. But today she was standing very still and looking straight ahead. Then Wally went on in quite a gentle voice (for him), ‘I shouldn’t tell you this, but I will. The viewers’ response to both of you has been extremely strong. And, in fact, you two have an extremely good chance . . . well, I wouldn’t be surprised if either of you won this show.’
I stared at him in stunned disbelief, and then burst out, ‘You’re joking.’
To my great surprise Wally’s mouth started twitching about. And he wasn’t having a stroke. No, he was trying to smile. I had a feeling cheeriness didn’t come very easily to him.
‘No, you really could win this show, Isobel,’ he said, still in a kindly tone. ‘Or you, Leo. I just thought you’d like to know that.’ He was struggling to smile again now, while the shock of what he’d just said exploded inside me.
I REALLY COULD WIN THIS SHOW.
Well, if I did – that would be the greatest moment of my life, without question. And right then I started picturing it: me stepping out of the farm; no doubt there’d be fireworks exploding everywhere and people cheering and waving banners with my name on.
And then Mum would rush up to me, looking so proud and happy. And I’d hand her the tickets for our holiday in the sun – maybe they’d be in a gold envelope. Yeah, I bet they would be. I’d give Mum the gold envelope and tell her that the good times were coming our way at last. This was the start of a total change in our fortunes now. And soon we’d be sun-tanned and rich and famous and . . .
I tell you, I was so busy picturing it all, I have no memory of leaving the classroom at all. I must have just floated out of it. The next thing I actually do remember is me walking back to the farm with Leo. And even then I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t, I was still so dazed and entranced by me winning Strictly Evacuees.
And then Leo stopped walking. ‘Hey, what just happened in there?’
‘What?’ I murmured, slowly and reluctantly coming back to earth.
‘I mean, did we just walk out of there without a word?’ he asked.
‘We must have.’
‘So did old Wally put a spell on us with his weird eyes?’
‘He said six magic words,’ I replied. ‘You really could win this show. You started imagining it too, didn’t you?’
‘For a few wacky seconds, yeah,’ said Leo. He sounded ashamed. ‘But we still don’t know what’s going to happen to Zac. We just abandoned him: our mate.’ He stared at me. ‘I think we should go back.’
I looked away.
‘You think we should stroll off and leave him?’ he persisted.
‘No, no, no . . . well, yes.’ Then I half whispered, ‘This could be our time.’
‘Yes, it could,’ mocked Leo. ‘Oh, this is our time to be famous. Wow and wow again.’
‘You can laugh, but I absolutely hate not having any money . . . and my mum’s really struggling . . .’
‘So you’re winning this show for your dear old mum,’ cried Leo.
‘Partly, yes.’
He smiled. ‘I really do believe you.’
‘But I am.’
‘First of all,’ he said, ‘when Wally tells us we might win this show, smiling like a snake as he does so, do we believe him? Or do we think it’s yet another of his little tricks?’ Without waiting for me to answer he went on, ‘And secondly, OK, you win. But this show is pretty much nuts. So you won’t even be famous for fifteen minutes – more like fifteen seconds, if you’re lucky. Still, the bad times you’ve had mean you’re entitled to be famous. That’s the deal, isn’t it?’
‘All right, Leo,’ I said tightly.
‘No, keep going, as you’ll probably win a holiday. Not even Strictly Evacuees could lie about that. So, go back to the farmhouse. I might even vote for you myself.’
I heard myself swallow hard.
‘Go on, I’ll look out for Zac. It doesn’t need two of us.’
Without another word I ran all the way to the farmhouse. And I know exactly what you’re thinking: that girl is so wrapped up in herself, she’d even dump her mates just to win a show. I know, because it’s exactly what I was thinking too.
I carried on going until I reached the door of the farmhouse. And then I stopped. It was as if I’d hit some invisible force field which was preventing me moving any further. I suppose you could say that my conscience finally stirred into action.
And after that my legs could only move one way: back to Leo. I called out his name in a funny, ragged voice I hardly recognized as belonging to me.
He whirled round.
‘Wait for me,’ I croaked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
A Shock Announcement
Izzy
LEO AND I tore back into that classroom. It seemed even darker than before.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ demanded Wally, his face stiff with shock. ‘You were told to return immediately to the farmhouse.’
Our bravery melted away just a bit then. And we both shuffled back a few steps. Then I noticed that Zac was standing up. He looked like a prisoner waiting to be sentenced. ‘We just wondered,’ I said, ‘if Zac was staying on.’
‘That’s no business of yours,’ said Wally and I didn’t think he was going to say anything else. But then he went on very quietly, ‘Zac will be leaving the farmhouse now, but he may be returning tomorrow. It is up to the public to decide. If enough viewers call up and support him he’ll be allowed back – won’t you, Zac?’
Zac nodded slowly. He looked tired and very confused and that’s exactly how Strictly Evacuees wanted it, of course. No doubt, at this very moment, thousands of peopl
e were going, ‘Aaah, poor lad,’ and then stampeding to their phones to save Zac – while also making Strictly Evacuees tons and tons of dosh.
‘Couldn’t Zac wait for the viewers’ verdict here with us?’ asked Leo.
And then, quite unexpectedly, Miss Weed, who’d been standing very still beside Wally, came to life. ‘Actually, that might work, mightn’t it?’ she said brightly, hopefully. And I realized she really didn’t want Zac to have to go away either.
But Wally shot her such a furious glare and snapped, ‘I have already decided this. Zac must wait for the viewers’ vote away from the farmhouse.’
Of course he must, I thought. That’s much nastier for Zac – and so will get far more viewers ringing up.
Suddenly I felt very wise, very disillusioned – and very, very angry. This just isn’t right, I thought. And then to my surprise I realized I’d said that aloud: ‘This just isn’t right.’ More words burst out of me then, my voice crackling with fury. ‘This isn’t a show about time travel at all. No, it’s a mad roller-coaster ride where you play horrible mind games with us every second of the day; like secretly bugging our rooms, and bringing in actors to deliberately annoy us and putting Zac through—’
‘Enough,’ roared Wally. ‘Leave the classroom now – or you will receive a third warning and be evicted.’
‘I don’t care,’ I cried, my face burning with anger. ‘I’m not leaving until Zac goes back to the farmhouse.’ And I sat down in a real I-shall-not-be-moved way. Then I looked at Leo, who’d been watching me, open-mouthed.
‘I’d like to agree with everything my esteemed evacuee has just said,’ he stated. ‘With great big brass knobs on. And just add that this whole show stinks worse than a Christmas dinner fart.’
For a few seconds after that it was so quiet you could have heard a snail cough. I think they call it dead air, on the radio. And it’s not supposed to be very good.
But Wally just went on gaping at us, his eyes bulging in a confused sort of way. It was as if we’d started babbling away in a language he didn’t understand. He really hadn’t expected that outburst at all. And he was stuck now. He really was. His moustache kept rising and falling, as if it was being moved by a tiny invisible string. And there was a mad gleam in his eye, showing he’d slipped over completely to the crazed side. Anything could happen now.
He got up suddenly and slammed across the room towards Leo and me like a mad bull. What he was about to do to us we’ll never know, because he was in such a state he tripped over his gown, didn’t he?
He went on to perform one of the finest backward flips I’ve ever seen. He soared right up into the air and then landed with a mighty thud against the bookcase. Ancient books shot into the air and started dive-bombing Wally in a mad aggressive way, as if they too were disgusted with him, while a heavy trail of dust began to settle onto him too: he looked as if he was being covered in very elderly snow.
And it all happened so fast I couldn’t even laugh, not then anyway. Miss Weed tore over to him, but he brushed her offer of help aside. He stumbled to his feet, furiously shaking his gown, his face grey with shock and fury.
Then the door suddenly burst open. And there was Farmer Benson – with Harriet. But she was supposed to have left ages ago. What was going on now?
‘I’ve just been talking to this young lady,’ said Farmer Benson. ‘And I have a few questions for you about this show which need answering urgently.’
But then Wally raised a weary hand and cried, ‘No more questions . . .’ And then he roared the last words at us: ‘Strictly Evacuees is suspended until further notice!’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
‘This Is All Your Fault’
Izzy
THE NEXT FEW hours were the maddest of all.
After Wally’s incredible announcement, Zac, Leo, Harriet and I were told by Farmer Benson to have our tea at the farmhouse. I think Harriet was a bit annoyed at being lumped with us kids – she was seventeen, after all. But she came with us, while Miss Weed, Farmer Benson and a still very dishevelled-looking Wally went into a huddle.
In the kitchen the four of us sat eating this grey wartime food, just as if nothing had happened and we were still on the show. But were we? Had Wally just had a hissy fit? And could he stop the whole show anyway?
Then Farmer Benson appeared. He looked grim.
‘Are we still being filmed?’ asked Harriet.
‘No, all filming has been suspended,’ Farmer Benson said. ‘But no more questions right now, please. There are meetings going on all over the place.’ Then his wife bobbed in and looked as if she was about to ask him something. But he shook his head at her too. ‘I can’t say anything right now,’ he muttered to her.
‘I hope we’re still in the war,’ said Zac anxiously.
‘I think we’re all about to be chucked out and sent home,’ said Leo.
‘Oh no, I really don’t want to do that,’ said Zac.
Finally Wally appeared. He wasn’t wearing his gown any more and his face looked as rumpled as an unmade bed. But his eyes still burned furiously as he spat his words out at us: ‘I have come to a decision, which Reality Plus has entirely agreed with. Your constant appalling behaviour has made it impossible for the evacuation experience to continue.’
We were all stunned by this news, never really believing the show would just splutter to an end.
Wally continued, ‘This is entirely your fault. You refused to obey the rules of wartime Britain.’
‘No, we didn’t,’ I replied. ‘We refused to obey the rules of Strictly Evacuees, which is something quite different.’
Wally’s face started to turn crimson. ‘Far too many rules have been broken for this experiment to continue,’ he said firmly. ‘But we hope to resume the show later, with a completely new set of contestants. You will all stay here tonight and the company will arrange your travel home first thing tomorrow. Your parents have been informed and will meet you at Paddington station tomorrow.’ Then he added, with a withered little smile, ‘Of course none of you have won our holiday prize. And tonight’s events and outbursts will not be broadcast on our Strictly Evacuees highlights show. Instead, we shall issue a statement saying you were unable to deal with life as an evacuee so we’re letting you all go.’
‘Which is a total lie,’ I said. ‘But what does one more of those matter?’
Wally was, without doubt, the angriest person I’d ever met. He was almost permanently furious. But now a gale force of rage shot through him as he shrieked, ‘I left teaching some time ago because of the decline in manners, but I had a dream of bringing young people back to basic values of politeness and good behaviour. However, you have defeated even me.’
And with that he disappeared. There was a silence for a moment. Then Leo said, ‘I think what Mr Cheery Chuckles means is that we’ve won. And he said he’d break us.’ But it didn’t feel like a victory at all.
Then Zac piped up, ‘The show’s finishing all because of me, isn’t it? I should have just gone when I was told.’
‘No, you shouldn’t,’ said a firm voice. ‘Reality Plus went too far tonight – and now they are paying the consequences.’ It was Miss Weed. She went on, ‘I also looked forward to reacquainting modern children with old-time manners – something I firmly believe they need – but not to playing tricks on them. I really should have spoken up before. I’m very glad you two did tonight.’
Then she left too. She was a dry old stick who could be a total pain, but I sort of respected her and was actually sorry she’d gone. And knowing that Leo and I had done the right thing didn’t stop me feeling horribly flat, especially as we’d all creep back home as failures now – people who just couldn’t cope with being an evacuee.
That’s how we’d be branded anyway.
I think Farmer Benson knew we were all feeling a bit down as he bounced in and said he wouldn’t be able to get hold of any modern technology – like a television – until tomorrow. But he was going to make our last night
here a very special one.
So we put on our normal clothes again – all except Zac, who said he preferred his evacuee clothes – and Mrs Benson announced, ‘The bathroom is now open to the public once more.’ And the room, which had been locked all through the evacuation experience, now gleamed and shone in a wonderful 2009 way.
There was no more rationing either – we could eat what we wanted. And as we didn’t do any homework that night we had a joke-telling competition instead. The prize was one big bar of glorious chocolate. You can probably guess who won too: Leo, although Harriet came a very close second.
Later Farmer Benson told us his story. His farm had been struggling to make enough money for a while now. They’d started opening up the place for school visits and even having some people stay for bed and breakfast. But money was still very tight. So when Reality Plus wanted to ‘borrow’ his farm, it had seemed a heaven-sent piece of luck.
‘How much money do you think you’ll get now?’ asked Leo. ‘Do you have to do this again with a new group of evacuees?’
Farmer Benson gave a small smile. ‘Now there’s a question or two.’ Later he went off to check on the animals. Of course none of us had any chores to do now, but Zac said he’d like to help. Farmer Benson looked pleased about that. And he and Zac were gone for ages.
At one point Leo went off to offer to help too (‘keenly hoping they’ll say no,’ he added), but he quickly came back again. ‘Farmer Benson and Zac are just sitting outside the barn talking,’ he said, ‘so I’ve left them to it.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The New Evacuee
Zac
‘I SHALL REALLY miss having you to help me do the chores,’ said Farmer Benson. We were sitting outside the barn when he said that. And I realized that this was my chance. I felt he might be a little bit alarmed though, if I just blurted out that I wished to stay here until I was grown up. Probably better to build up to that. So first I asked if Victor was still visiting the farm tomorrow.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Farmer Benson. ‘That wasn’t just a stunt for the cameras. I really want to see Victor back here in his old home.’