Part One is here

Martin turned away and she was pulled from the van by her legs, kicking all the way.

‘MARTIN, WAIT, WHAT’S GOING ON?’

She surprised herself, her throat giving way as she screamed. The man she thought she knew paused, turned and came back. The inspectors dropped her, literally, and backed away. Martin watched as she got to her feet, fighting the urge to cry and rubbing her elbows where they’d hit the ground.

‘Why are you calling me Martin?’

‘That’s your name.’

He shook his head. ‘My name is irrelevant. My title is Head Ward of extra-dimensional studies.’

‘Catchy.’

He raised his eyebrows, fractionally higher than before. ‘You know me, in your dimension.’

It wasn’t a question, but she found herself answering.

‘You’re my master, you’re teaching me magic.’

‘Ah.’ A smile split his face. It wasn’t quite right, like milk left out overnight. You wanted to trust it, but you knew it you put it on your cereal you’d regret it later. ‘How quaint. Things are a little different here.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ He put his hands behind his back, settling onto his heels. It was such a familiar gesture that a lump formed in her throat. ‘It has been this way for sixty years and it is this way because it has to be. The world was lost, for many years and we cannot let it become lost again.’

‘I’m not sure how you could lose the world. I mean, I’ve lost mine, but that’s just me. Surely you couldn’t all lose it at the same time, that would just be—’

‘Terror invaded our world and millions died. This is not something to joke about.’

‘But why does it have to be like this?’

He sighed as though she were really stupid. ‘Because we have to maintain control.’

‘What, over all those sixteen year old school girls who are just poised to take over the world?’

‘Scarlet knew what she was doing.’

‘She’s sixteen.’

He shook his head. ‘Make no mistake, age means nothing. There are plenty of sixteen year old capable of terrible things.’

‘Well, yeah, you should have seen this text post on tumblr the other week, serious trolling, but I mean—’

‘You mean very little and say a lot.’

‘Why are you in charge?’

He looked surprised at the change in tack but took it well. ‘I am a member of the council.’

‘The Council? You mean the magic council?’

‘Of course. Who else do you think runs the country?’

Her mouth dropped open and before she could say anything else, the inspectors returned. They dragged her through the massive gate before which she’d been standing. Martin came in also but headed in a different direction. She was lugged along the main road, past open fields. It was like being on an airfield and the massive hanger they were walking toward did nothing to dispel the feeling.

The doors were already open and they strode out of the evening sun into the gloom of the hanger. There were buildings inside it, long flat grey boxes with tiny windows and flat roofs. They put her down enough for her to use her feet and the three of them approached the nearest. In through the door and down a corridor that looked like a hospital and smelled like a gym.

Another door and when it swung open, she saw within a cell, not much larger than Martin’s bedroom and bearing a remarkably similar bed. And nothing else. They shoved her in and slammed the door. She turned, about to commit the terrible sin of cliche by thumping on the door and demanding to be let out. But some things were beneath even her, so she settled for trying out the bed.

The mattress was made of something resembling wood, with about as much give, and she gave up lying down pretty quickly. Mum would be worrying by now. Well, not worrying, but certainly wondering. She could pace. People paced in jail cells, didn’t they? She gave it a try, taking the three steps from one end to the other and turned, before giving it up as a bad job.

The light was already fading and soon the cell was plunged into complete darkness. This could be a good time to panic. But she’d run today and cried more than usual. She stretched out on the bed, wriggled around for half an hour and finally fell asleep.

The door opening woke her. Apparently she didn’t wake up quick enough, because they slammed it against the wall a few times until she sat up and waved a hand. She looked around for a mirror and was relieved to see there were none. If she was going to be dead or in another dimension soon, she really couldn’t care less about how she looked.

The inspector in the doorway tapped one hand against the door frame and his foot on the stone floor.

‘Could you be any more of a stereotype? Just calm down, alright?’

He sneered at her and went on tapping. She stretched and yawned. And stretched some more. And yawned a bit. Another stretch. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out the cell while she gave him her sweetest smile. She had somehow woken up in a good mood. That never happened, unless Lara was there and that had only happened twice. The thought made her insides tighten and her smile widen.

Then she remembered everything that had happened yesterday. Weird how being in another dimension still didn’t take away from the hurt of being dumped. Her smile faded as the guy in the uniform dragged her down endless passageways until they reached a double door inlaid with blacked-out glass panels.

He pushed one open, shoved her through, and she found herself in a massive room. That it was big was about the only interesting thing she could say about it. That and the narrow table that filled the centre and was sat at by four men. All staring at her. She put her hand to her hair, feeling the inevitable post-sleep wind tunnel effect and groaned.

‘Come forward.’

She stepped closer to the table, trying to stand up straight. ‘There are four of you. Are you the head of the Council?’

‘Do you really think the head of the council would be here to deal with a nobody like you? We are the heads of council for extra-dimensional occurrences.’

‘You guys just love the crap titles don’t you? Where’s Martin?’

They looked at her blankly. The same one spoke again. ‘You are here to be judged.’

‘Yay.’

‘And it would behove you to take it a little more seriously as the sentence may well be death.’

She feigned a yawn. What was with her today? Of the four men, three frowned at her as if they had special powers in their foreheads. The fourth sat back, watching her with a wry smile. Three against one. She was going to die. But somehow, she still couldn’t bring herself to be too bothered.

‘Please, come and stand at the head of the table.’

She headed around until she could see all their faces without them having to turn.

‘Name?’

‘Joanna Slater.’

‘Why are you here, Joanna.’

‘My friends call me Jo. I was using a seeking spell to get home and accidentally went to the wrong house.’

‘How did you do that?’

‘Um, well, I may have been a bit careless with how I laid out the ingredients.’

She couldn’t decide if the creased brows and open mouths were amazement or disgust, or maybe a bit of both. ‘I see. Why did you run when we came to collect you?’

‘The people in the house thought I should. And they were right. You threw me in a van and put me in prison for the night. That’s not very nice, you know.’

The relaxed one smiled again, but the other three glared. ‘She will be dealt with. You will go home. We can send you, or you may perform the spell yourself.’

‘What, I can go home? Right now?’

He nodded and she busied herself with her bag. She had most of the stuff spread out around her and her bundle of sage tucked behind her ear before she stopped. Dammit.

‘What about her?’

The men turned back to stare at her. ‘Who?’

‘Scarlet, the girl who tried to save me?’

There was silence for a moment, before the smiling man spoke. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘I think you’re doing nasty things to her and she doesn’t deserve it.’

‘Nasty is a very subjective word.’

‘Assuming that means what I think it does, I gotta disagree. Nasty is nasty.’

He rocked his head from side to side. ‘She is being reconditioned, to ensure she fully understands what is expected of her.’

‘And then?’

‘If we believe she is suitable, she will be allowed back into society.’

‘Yeah, see, that’s not good enough. Can I save her?’

The men chuckled. Actually chuckled. Spitting at them probably wouldn’t help her get what she wanted, so she ground her teeth together and waited. They were making eye contact, raising eyebrows and being all mysterious. Maybe she should pretend to go home and go to the gate instead. She could remember what it looked like.

‘What would you be willing to do?’

‘Ewww. Not that.’

He shook his head, still smiling. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, how far does your intention to rescue her go?’

She shrugged. ‘I dunno.’

‘Hmm.’ What did that mean? He was looking at the others and one by one they nodded. He turned back to her. ‘Perhaps there is something you can do. There is something we need, maybe you can get it.’

‘Yeah, sure, what is it?’

‘Tell me, have you ever heard of Red Riding Hood?’

Next Instalment Monday 14th April

Part One is here

As the inspectors bundled them into a van, Scarlet couldn’t take her eyes off her counterpart. Her eyes flicked about like a deer in the headlights and she kept mumbling under her breath. What was she going to do?

The van was dark and smelled of sweat. It reminded her of the changing rooms at school. She was shoved in first, but Skinny resisted and spoke louder, her mumble becoming a casting. Scarlet gasped just before a night stick cracked across Skinny’s head. She slumped forward as the man who had hit her growled into her ear.

‘Don’t even think about it. You ain’t done anything wrong yet, so why ruin it now?’

Skinny was dumped on the floor of the truck and the doors were slammed shut. Scarlet slid off the seat and lifted Skinny’s head into her lap. She had a moment to think about the insanity of having her own head in her lap before the van lurched away and they both slid until they hit the back doors.

Skinny’s eyes fluttered open and she stared up at Scarlet. ‘They’re taking us to a camp. They’re going to hide us.’

From the shaking in her voice and the quivering chin, Scarlet assumed that was a bad thing. Being hidden didn’t sound all that bad. ‘What does that mean?’

Skinny sat up quickly, groaned, and put her head in her hands. ‘It means we disappear. No one hears from us again and that’s it.’

‘So what actually happens to us?’

‘I don’t know.’ She started to cry, big heaving sobs that Scarlet recognised only too well.

‘How can you not know?’

‘Because no one ever finds out. No one ever escapes or comes back.’

She buried her head and Scarlet moved back to the seat. This wasn’t good news, but having to deal with the sound of her own crying, which was horrible at the best of times, was too much. She stared through the tiny barred window on the side of the van. The streets they drove through were familiar, save the lack of people. Those she did see were going about life quite normally. Where was the magic?

How, in a world where everyone did magic, was no one doing it? The van halted and she examined the road outside. There were more cameras, CCTV on, like, every lamppost and shop and even the bins. Someone was watching everything. It could be big brother, it could be father Christmas. Then again, it could be more of the nasty sods that had chucked them in the van. Inspectors. This was a strange world.

She blinked. She’d just thought this was a strange world. Not, oh my god I’m in another dimension and how the hell did I end up here? Oh no, just, this is a strange world. When did this become normal? She really wanted to be freaked out but it was the coolest thing ever. Except for the being in the back of a van. Maybe she should leave.

They moved again and she pulled the ingredients out of her bag and laid them out. The shifting floor made it tough but she got it pretty close to right. She began to cast, but seconds into the chanting her head swam and she badly needed to vomit. The casting faltered and she swore. She took a few breaths and tried again. Same thing.

Skinny smiled sadly. ‘The vans are coated. No one knows what they use but you can’t do any magic.’

‘And you’re only telling me this now because?’

Skinny shrugged. ‘What’s the point? It’s over. We’re dead.’

Scarlet squinted at her and shook her head. Was she really this dramatic? ‘Why?’

Skinny almost leaped from her seat, hands shaking, before she subsided back against the door of the van and laughed in that way people do just before they shoot themselves. ‘You don’t come from here, you don’t know what it’s like.’

‘But you can all do magic. Why haven’t you changed things?’

‘How? We’re tracked, every second of our lives. Everything we do is monitored. They test us, whenever they want, just to make sure we’re still loyal.’ She spat out loyal and looked down at her hands. ‘I could make a pretty good illusion when I was six. I could make fire when I was eight. Only I couldn’t do it in class, because it was dangerous, and I couldn’t do it outside because magic’s forbidden on the street and mum gets pissed if I do it at home…’

Scarlet looked at the floor of the van, frowning. They could all do magic. How did this place suck this badly if they could all do magic?

The van lurched to a stop and the doors dragged open. Skinny was taken beneath the arms and pulled out and the doors slammed closed again. Scarlet threw herself against the doors, thumping on them with her fists. ‘Let me out, bloody let me OUT.’

The van pulled away and she moved to the window, pressing herself against it. She just made out a struggling body being carted away through a gate bordered on both sides by high fences. She slumped down from the window onto her knees. The van turned a corner and she was flung sideways and slammed her hands against the floor.

A cold settled over her, like she’d come out without a coat. Actually, she had come out without a coat. She should have learned by now. Where had they taken Skinny Scarlet? That was her fault, completely her fault. And maybe Martin’s, but mostly hers. She sniffed, admitting for the first time that now might be a good time to be scared.

She pulled her phone from her pocket. No signal. No 3G. She shoved it back in, resisting the urge to chuck it at the van wall. This wasn’t fun any more. The van came to a halt, the doors opened and a face appeared. Warmth flooded her as the familiar sight of Martin filled her vision.

‘Thank god, it’s you.’

His eyebrows raised slightly before he spoke. ‘Welcome to the extra-dimensional holding cell. You will remain here until the decision is made regarding your termination.’

‘Martin?’

But he’d turned away, not an inch of recognition on his face and the masked men appeared, hands reaching for her.

Next Instalment Friday 11th April

Part One is here

The door being smashed in was the last sound she heard before the back door slammed and they ran. The garden was just large enough to fit a chair and mum’s ashtray in, although both were conspicuous by their absence. What was it with the scary healthy thing? They ducked through the gate and down the alleyway, heart hammering in her chest.

Skinny Scarlet was away like some crazy running fiend and Scarlet attempted and failed utterly to keep up.

‘Hold on, please, blimey, just hold on would you?’

Her counterpart turned and looked at her. She recognised that look, she’d seen it in the mirror enough times. Part sadness, part contempt, all Scarlet. She hissed and stopped as she caught up, bending over to heave in great lungfuls of air.

‘God, where did you learn to run?’

‘I’m track champion for sector six.’

‘Track champion? God, when did I become such a dick?’

Skinny Scarlet folded her arms and gave Scarlet another of her favourite looks. She blushed. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean that.’

‘Mmm.’

Skinny grabbed her hand and set off running. ‘They’ll be finished in the house in a couple of minutes and start on the streets. We need to find you somewhere safe.’

‘What about Martin’s?’

‘Who’s Martin?’

She stopped dead in her tracks but skinny kept running and she was dragged off balance, landing on one of her knees. She yelped and bit her lip. She’d cried enough for one day. Actually, she hadn’t cried nearly enough, there was plenty of time left. A drop ran down her cheek and she scrubbed it away. Skinny was staring at her. ‘What, bloody what?’

‘Why are you so upset?’

‘Why am I… What do you think? I’m, what did you say, in another dimension, my master’s just buggered off to Australia, my girlfriend broke up with me and some weirdos are chasing me for no good reason. Seems pretty reasonable to be upset actually.’

‘Oh, goodness, you’re gay?’ Skinny glanced around, eyes wide again. She put her finger to her lips. ‘Keep that quiet, it’s dangerous here.’

‘Lucky you told me that, cos I was going to tell all my other-dimensional friends. You know, all those people that have queuing up to say hi since I got here.’

‘I mean it.’ Her brows came together in a way that was almost comical. Then a sound from behind that was almost certainly the garden gate being slammed got her off her knees and running again. Scarlet took the lead, heading for Martin’s place and crossing her fingers.

The estate was the same, except the grass was cut and there was no rubbish. At all. It was a bit creepy, though not a patch on the shouting voices that were chasing them between the tower blocks.

‘Why do they want me?’

‘You’re other-dimensional. I think you must be. Coming through must have triggered an alarm.’

‘So why do they want me?’

‘You’re different.’

‘You mean fat.’

Skinny actually laughed. It sounded a little like a horse throwing up, but it was better than the condescension she’d had so far. ‘No, I mean you’re different. You sound different and look different and you definitely think different.’

They reached Martin’s before she could respond and she pushed through the bin doors. Skinny followed her with a look of trepidation. Scarlet shoved open the door to Martin’s and stepped in. It was empty. The floor was bare concrete, the walls bare concrete. In fact, the theme was entirely bare concrete. The bedroom was equally bare. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

‘What were you expecting?’

‘My master lives here.’

‘Your master?’

‘Um, yeah, you know, the guy who teaches me… magic.’

‘You have a master?’ Her voice carried the same level of awe Scarlet had when Lara told her she’d been on the Harry Potter studio tour. Having a master couldn’t compare, though, surely?

‘How many students does he have?’

‘It’s apprentice, and just me, I think.’

Skinny did the thing with her eyes again and Scarlet leaned back against the wall smirking. Then a thought struck her. ‘Hang on. You do magic?’

‘Of course, doesn’t everyone?’

Okay, that wasn’t fair. She’d come to a dimension without Martin, where she was skinny and could run and actually looked really hot and now everyone did magic. She’d called this upon herself, thinking her day couldn’t get any worse. This was her fault.

What was she thinking? Of course it wasn’t her fault, it never was. This was Martin’s fault. If he hadn’t buggered off to Australia the whole thing would never have happened.

‘So everyone does magic?’

Skinny nodded. It was her turn to smirk. It looked bad on her, really bad.

‘Of course. How else do you think we learn things?’

Scarlet scrunched up her face. She was about to say it wasn’t fair then saw Martin’s face and stamped her foot instead. The skinny her was really annoying. And not gay. Weird. ‘How does magic help you learn things, I mean, other than magic?’

‘How do you learn things in your dimension?’

Scarlet shrugged. ‘A combination of TV, shouting and youtube.’

‘Youtube? All that’s good for is government promotional stuff. There’s nothing useful on there.’

Where was she? She’d come to an evil, terrible place. And she’d been to hell, so she was qualified to say. Skinny was still talking.

‘We learn using spells. You cast your memory lock and read for an hour and you’ve got it.’

‘Why not just use wikipedia?’

‘What’s wikipedia?’

‘Right, just imagine all of the smartest people you can think of and put them all in the same room. Then imagine you can ask them any question you like and they have to answer.’

‘So like the Forum then?’

Scarlet ground her teeth together. Fine, she wasn’t going to win this. Actually, the spell learning thing sounded like a really good idea. She’d have to bug Martin about it when he got back. Or when she got back. Speaking of which.

‘How do I get home?’

‘How did you get here?’

‘I used a seeking spell, for my bed. Only, my bed turned out to be your bed.’

‘That’s very odd. Did you follow the spell properly?’

‘Did I follow the spell properly?’ Skinny glared at her as she mimicked her voice. ‘Probably, mostly, yeah. Maybe a bit careless with the ingredients.’

She looked at her feet and scuffed one shoe against the other. Martin had talked about laying them out right at some point. Maybe. But he hadn’t stressed how important it obviously was. Clearly his fault. She dug through her bag for the right ingredients and began laying them out on the floor. Skinny watched, hands on hips.

‘So that’s it, you’re just going to leave?’

‘Why the hell would I stay here?’

‘Um, well, maybe because I just rescued you?’

‘Well, yeah, thanks for that. But I mean, there’s already you here so why would I stay?’

Skinny bit her lip and Scarlet paused, sage gripped between finger and thumb and watched herself. She recognised the awkward shuffle and the downcast eyes. She knew what was coming next and winced as Skinny opened her mouth. ‘We could, you know, hang out.’

Crap. Now she was feeling sorry for herself and herself. This was just stupid. She was torn from her thoughts by a crash just outside. She grabbed for the ingredients, shoving them back into her bag and stood. Skinny watched the door, hands shaking. Scarlet took her hand and squeezed it.

‘Thanks for the rescue.’

Skinny looked at her, as if trying to decide whether she was being sarcastic, then smiled. ‘Not very good, though, was it?’

‘How did they find us?’

‘My tracker.’

‘Your tracker?’

Skinny tapped her neck where Scarlet could see a lump, about the size of a dice, protruding beneath the skin. ‘What is it?’

‘Everyone has a tracker. You get them at birth.’

‘How come?’

‘We might be terrorists.’

‘So how come you learn magic?’

‘Everyone learns magic, you just do. It’s like learning to talk.’

That was so cool. Imagine if everyone could do magic. The streets must be filled with illusions and crazy money-seeking clouds and all sorts. The door flew open and men rushed in. They wore dull grey uniforms and riot gear, helmets with plastic face masks. She was about to put her hands up when one grabbed her by the hair and threw her on the floor.

‘Hey, what the hell?’

‘Shut it. You’re under arrest. Keep quiet and do as your told.’

Her head was spinning and she looked to her left. Skinny was face down beside her, chewing on her lip, tears streaming down her face.

Next Installment Wednesday 9th April

Part One is here

‘He thinks everyone’s corrupting me. I don’t think we can go out anymore.’

The world narrowed down to the smallest pinprick, the book shop flying away until all she could see was a spot of dust on the arm of the sofa. The throw was this grotesque seventies pattern that made them both feel sick, but it was so comfortable. They could fit on it together, with Lara’s head in her lap or their feet squashed beneath them, touching at the toes.

She blinked and the world came back and she opened her mouth to say something.

‘Lara, we’re leaving.’

Lara jumped like Hermione had just come in and asked her to go for coffee. She gave Scarlet one last look, like she was being led away to the gallows, and rushed from the shop. At some point Scarlet made it from the floor to the sofa, where she curled up and let the tears come.

A throat being cleared made her look up. The guy who ran the place was looking at her with a mixture of confusion and sympathy on his face. ‘I’m sorry, we’re closing.’

‘Oh.’

Why was he telling her? Oh.

‘Oh, right, I should probably leave then.’ She crawled out of the sofa and picked up her bag. She rubbed her face with her hands, coming away with foundation caked to her palms. She tried to leave the shop covering her face without looking like a nutter. Then again, she had just spent the afternoon on their sofa crying, so it was probably a little late for that.

It wasn’t dark outside. Why wasn’t it dark? She could have hidden if it was dark, but the sun was still visible above the houses and there were hours of daylight left. She stumbled through Harrow, thinking she was heading for the station but finding herself wandering into the park.

A tree beckoned her over and she collapsed beneath it, staring up through the leaves that bustled gently in the breeze. Every now and then the sun would catch a gap and blind her and she’d refuse to close her eyes until they watered like mad. What just happened?

God her dad was such a dick. How could anyone be that stupid and ignorant and dick-ish? She was trying really hard to hate Lara but it wasn’t working. Why should she when it wasn’t her fault? Only she could have stood up for herself couldn’t she? If she was gay, surely she knew anything her dad said wasn’t going to make any difference? Did she say that to him? She should have.

She needed to be home now. The journey was far too long and crappy and with a guilty sigh she dug into her bag and pulled out her spell book. As her fingers touched it she thought that maybe Martin could help. He had no idea whatsoever about people, but he was an old guy, maybe had some— he wasn’t bloody here. He was in Australia, probably surfing and drinking beer or something.

Urgh, why did stuff like this happen? Someone wanted her to be miserable. Someone had decided, at some point in human history, that a person called Scarlet would one day be born and all the world’s sorrows would be dumped on her head. All at the same time. She wanted Lara. She needed a hug and maybe something more fun. That thought sent her off and the tears came again.

It was really unpleasant, all snotty and she must look horrible, just completely horrible. She needed to be home now. She pulled ingredients from her bag, throwing them however on the ground and cast the spell, barely thinking about what was going on, just zoning in on her bed.

The light came and she stepped through and the ground changed from grass to the familiar spring of her mattress. With a sigh she threw herself down and buried her face in the pillow.

A throat being cleared made her look up. She yelped and grabbed her pillow, bringing it before her like a shield. It was her! Only it wasn’t her, because this girl was skinny, like, unhealthy skinny and she was smiling far too much. Her eyebrows were raised and Scarlet couldn’t help noticing that the skinny hers were plucked to perfection. God, she hated herself already.

‘Um, hello. I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re going to magic yourself onto my bed, could you perhaps remove your shoes before you…’

She talked funny as well, like she’d learned English from watching Downton. The skinny her trailed off and stared, eyebrows drawn together. ‘Who are you?’

‘Scarlet?’

‘Me too.’

‘Yeah, I figured that. Um, where am I?’

The skinny her looked around her room, heading over to what Scarlet realised was a webcam in the far corner. The girl who was her but wasn’t stared up at it. ‘Is this a test? Because if it is, I wasn’t told about it and I think that’s very unfair.’

Scarlet was about to reply that life wasn’t fair when skinny Scarlet turned around and put her hands on her hips. ‘Well, I don’t understand what is happening here, not at all.’

‘You don’t, what about me?’

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Scarlet Rose Parker, I live in 23 Park Road North, London. Who are you?’

The skinny Scarlet gave her a sassy look and repeated back exactly what she’d said in a sarcastic voice. God she was a complete bitch. Only there was one difference. ‘…Park Road North, Sector six, London.’

‘What’s the sector six thing?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘What’s sector six?’

The girl’s face softened for a moment. Scarlet was tempted to take the moment to throw herself out the window, thereby waking from the dream and returning to the misery that seemed now both tempting and reassuring. She could do misery. This was just weird.

‘Sector six is this part of London.’

‘When did they become sectors?’

The girl jutted her chin out and recited like a textbook. If books could talk and sounded like posh old English people.

‘The sectors were created in the 1950s, following the end of the second world war. They were created to improve the level of control the government could have over potential terrorists and subversives.’

‘What terrorists? There weren’t any terrorists back then, it was just the nazis, wasn’t it?’ Her history wasn’t the best. In fact, it wasn’t even the average. It was nearer the complete rubbish if she was honest, but even she knew about the nazis.

The girl looked stunned, jerking back in her chair. ‘What do you think happened in the war? The nazis were gone by 1942, it was the terror groups that kept it going.’

‘Kept it going?’

The girl sighed, shaking her head. ‘Where did you do your learning, a school?’

‘Um, yes?’

Her eyes opened even wider, which shouldn’t have been possible. Scarlet half expected them to fall out and go bouncing around on the floor which, considering the circumstances, wouldn’t have been all that surprising.

‘The second world war began in 1938 and ended in 1951. In the course of the war, nearly one billion people were killed including large parts of the population from most of Europe and the Americas. Those who survived lived a further twenty years in closely controlled sectors and were screened regularly by the army-run government that took control following the ceasefire.’

Scarlet’s mouth opened and closed and she blinked a few times. ‘Where am I?’

‘You’re in sector six, London.’

‘Yeah, but, like, where’s that?’

‘Earth?’

‘Scarlet, dinner.’

It was mum. It was actually mum. With something close to a sob she ran out the door, down the stairs and flung herself at mum. Only it wasn’t mum, because she was skinny and her skin was half decent and she was looking at Scarlet like she had a gun to her head.

‘Who the hell are you?’

‘Mum, it’s me, it’s Scarlet.’

Skinny Scarlet appeared in the kitchen, shaking her head. Scarlet looked from one to the other and burst into tears. Skinny mum took the phone off the kitchen table and dialled a number, then explained to the room.

‘I think I should call the inspectors. They’ll want to know about this.’

Skinny Scarlet did something that surprised her then. ‘Hang on, mum, this is me. I’m not sure how, but it is.’

Mum put her hand over the end of the phone and mouthed ‘what?’

Skinny Scarlet nodded. ‘I think she must be from another dimension or something. We’ve just been learning about that in class.’

Mum hung the phone up and stared at Scarlet, eyes running up and down. ‘Not a very healthy dimension from the looks of things.’

Scarlet had just managed to choke down the sobs, but now they came straight back. Mum came over and put an awkward arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s alright. Maybe you should tell us what you did before you arrived here, hmm?’

Scarlet nodded, wiped away the tears and sniffed. The sound of her nose rattling with snot filled the room and she cringed. The noise was rudely and blessedly interrupted by another sound, the thumping of fists on the front door.

‘Open up at once, inspectors.’

The skinny ones wore the same expression at the same time and Scarlet realised for the first time, like, ever, how similar she looked to mum. That was going to take some getting over. Then skinny mum was pushing her toward the back door and skinny Scarlet was grabbing a jacket and her hand and she was pushed out into the garden. Behind her the sounds of the door being broken down echoed through the house.

Next Instalment Monday 7th April

Part One is here

Hey we have to talk I can’t come out could you come to Harrow please.

She read it again and her mouth went dry. What scared her the most was the lack of punctuation. Lara was militant about grammar and full stops and all those sorts of things. It was awesome and really sexy until you got a text that didn’t have any and said ‘we have to talk’ in some dreadful, ‘the world is ending’ sort of a way. She needed to check tumblr. And Facebook.

Book tucked under one arm, she headed home and flipped open her laptop. Her babies were behaving themselves and she had a couple of reposts on tumblr. She smiled and flicked her hair and jumped as her phone buzzed again. She pulled it from her pocket, looking sheepishly around her bedroom.

So can you come?

Oh. Yeah, she could have messaged back.

Yeah I cn cum b there 1 hr.

She stared at it for a minute, grinning broadly. Then she scrolled back through the messages and a bead of sweat popped out on her neck. She wasn’t sure this was something to smile about. She retyped it taking into account her girlfriend’s wonderful idiosyncrasies and sent it before climbing off the bed and riffling through her drawers.

There was something to be said for school uniform. You always looked terrible and fat and horrible, but at least everyone else did too. Summer holidays filled her with dread. Six whole weeks of having to find something to wear every day. On the plus side, she had no friends to laugh at her when she wore the same jeans for two weeks in a row. Actually, that wasn’t a plus side.

Her main aim was to just not look too lame next to Lara, which of course was pointless and depressing cos Angelina Jolie looked lame next to her girlfriend. Girlfriend. Heh. Hang on, what if the talk was to do with them going out? The world spun and she fallumped onto the bed face down, and grabbed her pillow to pull over her. If she lay here long enough, someone was bound to destroy the world and put her out of her misery.

An hour later and dressed adequately at best, she slipped out the front door. Mum’s purse had been surprisingly flush and mum had been sleeping, so all was well. It was much easier to steal once you decided mum’s purse was a person who had every chance to argue with your thievery and that silence from said person meant they didn’t mind. Magic was so cool.

The tube journey was like the bit in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, where they were really stoned. Actually, it was just like the whole film. She tried to focus on the adverts, but they were either for holidays which made her think about Martin and get mad, or life insurance, which made her think Lara was going to tell her she had head cancer or something horrible.

She pulled her spell book out, but that only reminded her of Martin again and she ground her teeth. The people either side of her were looking at her funny so she put it away and closed her eyes. She could do this. It would be something silly, like she’d been grounded or something. Lara was so sweet. She’d been raised in, like, this Victorian household or something where wearing your skirt above your ankle got you beaten.

They’d been dating for seven months and Scarlet still hadn’t met her parents. She was fairly certain they didn’t actually exist. She’d been to Lara’s a couple of times when they’d been on holiday-skiing or cruise, of course-and seen photos, but she thought Lara probably made them up on photoshop. She’d rather think that, than believe they still didn’t know about her, which was, in truth, far more likely to be the case.

After a good eight solid hours of traveling, she emerged into the sunshine at Harrow and wandered down the narrow streets to Lara’s house. It reminded her of being here with Elt and Martin when Lara had been kidnapped by the cult. This couldn’t be worse than that, surely. She sent a text.

‘I’m here.’

Moments later, the reply pinged back.

‘I’m at the book shop. Dad’s here so we have to act like we don’t know each other.’

Or maybe you could introduce me.

It was easier when they weren’t face to face.

She waited, staring at her phone, but there was no reply. She sniffed and headed into the town. The bookshop was their favourite place when she came to visit Lara and the guy behind the counter gave her a wave. She smiled back and stopped, pretending to browse the little table at the front. It was like being in a spy movie. She needed gadgets, or maybe a really nice car.

Her covert glances found dad. He was real! He also looked really pissed and quite stressed out. He might look like that all the time, but that was just a horrible thought. Imagine waking up to that when you had a nightmare. Her dad had been good at that, when she was young. He wouldn’t tell her to forget about it. He’d ask her what happened and point out how daft it was and why she shouldn’t be silly. Worked every time.

She swallowed and strolled through the shop, passing within an aisle’s width of him. She could just stop and introduce herself.

‘Hi, I’m Scarlet. I’m in a relationship with your daughter. I do magic too. I hear you like wine.’

That was it, it’d be perfect. She kept walking and round the corner was Lara, sat in their seat trying to pretend she was reading. Scarlet bent down and pretended to look at a book.

‘You know, your eyes move like you’re at a tennis match when you read.’

‘Huh?’

‘You aren’t going to make a good spy at this rate.’

She flashed her a smile. Nothing came back and she stared at her girlfriend. Her eyes were red and bruised, her face drawn. She put her hand inside the arm of the chair and Lara took it, squeezing as hard as she could. Scarlet swallowed again. What was going on?

‘Hey, you alright?’

Lara sniffed and shook her head. ‘Told mum and dad I’m gay. They freaked out. Dad hasn’t spoken to me in, like, three days and they’ve banned me from going out or going anywhere at all. They want to send me to boarding school.’

‘Yeah, cos there’s no gay people there, oh no.’

They were silent for a moment. She didn’t know how to deal with this. Why was her dad such a dick? ‘Why?’

‘I didn’t know, but he’s, like, catholic, really strongly catholic. He doesn’t practice but his beliefs are really strong.’

‘Why didn’t you know?’

‘Apparently, he wanted me to make up my own mind. Only I think he meant I had to make up my own mind to be a catholic.’

‘So it’s be catholic and straight or be damned forever?’

Lara nodded and a tear rolled from her eye. Scarlet reached up, wiping it gently from her cheek. ‘It’ll be alright.’

‘Will it? He says I can’t see anyone, in case they corrupt me. I don’t think we can go out anymore.’

Next Instalment Friday 4th April

Life… was actually quite good. She still hated everyone, but that was healthy, she couldn’t lose that. Between hanging out with Lara and learning how to create a pretty decent illusion of any Disney princess she liked, things were remarkably okay. She had bruises on her waist from all the pinching. Any moment she’d wake up and things would be back to normal.

Even her bed felt more comfortable. JK Rowling was making more Harry Potter films. I mean, they weren’t actually Harry films, but close enough. The sun was out, the smell of pizza was wafting up from downstairs. Any moment now, any moment…

Her computer pinged and she lifted it onto her lap. An email. Lara communicated almost entirely via phone and facebook, so it was probably Martin, or possible MR Hoidjs Insifkasd explaining that he was giving away his inheritance of ten squillion dollars and wanted her to have it. The first time she got one of those emails she danced around her room, oblivious to the sweat and sudden shortness of breath that came from doing actual physical exercise.

Then she called Lara and told her to pack her bags. A few minutes later she put down the phone, face burning red and deleted the email.

This one was from Martin and she read it with a sick feeling in her stomach.

Dear Scarlet

I apologise that I come to be communicating with you in such an impersonal way, but something has come up and I have to hurry. I have had information that suggests my wife might be in Australia. I will be journeying there today and may be gone for up to a month. This will of course mean a cessation in your lessons for the next few weeks. 

I apologise for this and assure you they will resume immediately upon my return. 

Yours

Martin

Damn, how much effort did it take to write like that? Surely he didn’t think like that? Or maybe he did. She could imagine him sitting in front of his computer, one finger typing with a cup of tea in the other hand, nodding enthusiastically after each sentence. Hang on. He was going to Australia. Today.

She was out the door before her laptop hit the bed and dashed through the estate. Before she’d had time to think about what she was going to say, she thumped the door with a clenched fist, oblivious to the pain it caused. She was about to shout his name when he pulled the door open. He was wearing his best frown and the relief made her giggle.

He stood to one side and she ambled in, still laughing.

‘What, pray tell, is so funny?’

‘Nothing, really, nothing, just… why aren’t you in Australia?’

‘Well, I have to fly there first and that takes really quite some time, you know.’

‘Hah hah, very funny. I thought you were going today?’

He glanced at his watch. ‘In about three hours, to be precise. I had hoped—’

‘To avoid me.’

He blushed and she stared, wide-eyed. He was actually trying to avoid her. ‘Well, anyway, it’s all good, cos you’re still here. So, I’m coming with you.’

It was his turn to look surprised and she nodded. ‘Yeah. It’s summer holiday, I’ve got six weeks off, I’m coming too.’

He was already shaking his head.

‘I want to help. You always help me, with the teaching and the really boring lectures and stuff. I want to help you.’

‘You rescued me from the Council, I think that qualifies as helping.’

‘Well, yeah. Actually, that was pretty amazing. But I want to help with this, with your wife.’

He shook his head again. ‘I’m sorry, Scarlet, this is something I must do alone.’

‘Oh god, did you really just say that? One man on a mission. Outnumbered, outgunned. They call him… Martin.’

He looked at her as though she’d just suggested he get a tumblr account. ‘Why alone?’

‘It may not be safe.’

‘Great, so you’re going to bugger off around the world and probably die and never come back. How am I gonna learn magic then?’

‘Your concern for my wellbeing is touching, truly. Scarlet, this isn’t up for discussion. I am going alone. You will stay here and practice and I will see you in a few weeks.’

‘But that’s not fair.’

He smiled. ‘Who ever told you life was fair? You must stay here, I’m sorry.’

‘You aren’t sorry. If you were sorry you’d take me with you.’

He shook his head and turned away, sorting through stuff on his table. His back looked so big from here, all mastery and annoying. The temptation to punch him was pretty strong but she resisted. She was better than that. ‘If you don’t take me, I’m gonna steal all your stuff and sell it on ebay.’

He turned back, eyebrows raised. ‘No you won’t. You’re a good person, a decent person who knows very well what is right and wrong.’

She stamped her foot, then realised she’d stamped her foot and blushed. ‘This is so not fair.’

He sighed and turned back to his desk. Fine, that was just bloody fine. She’d known it was coming. Life was too perfect, so something had to go wrong. She sat on the couch, staring at the wall and wondering just how long she could sulk for. Hang on, she could just buy a ticket, she didn’t need his permission.

‘Just out of interest, you know, how much is a ticket to Australia?’

‘About £1000, give or take.’

Bugger. He turned back, looking contrite. Contrite was a good word. It sounded like what it meant. He did a good contrite face. Her eyes travelled down to the book in his hand.

‘Scarlet, I’m sorry about this, truly. This book is the next stage in your training. It contains a new level of magic, things we have yet to explore. I am giving it to you now because I believe I can trust you with it, but I implore you. Do not attempt any of the spells within until I return. You may learn them by all means, but do not cast them. Do you understand me?’

She nodded, biting her lip. He thought he could pay her off with a shiny new spell book. He probably could. She took it, running her hand over the rough brown leather. Yeah, it was definitely working. Dammit. She was still pissed at him though.

‘I’m still pissed at you. This doesn’t make it better you know.’

He nodded, mouth turning up at the corners. ‘Do you promise you won’t attempt any of the spells?’

She nodded again. It didn’t count unless she actually said the words.

‘I’d like to hear you say the words, please. I trust you, but I know something about teenagers.’

‘That’s, like, racist or something. Ageist.’

‘Scarlet.’

‘Fine, fine, I promise I won’t do the spells until you return.’

He nodded gravely. ‘Thank you. And now I must go.’

‘What, now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Meaning, this moment right now?’

He ducked into his bedroom and emerged with a heavy bag slung over his shoulder. Taking another from the desk he crossed to the door and paused. ‘I have set my warding so you may come in at any time. This place is yours until I return. But no parties.’

She looked around at the shoe box he called home and burst out laughing. ‘That’s just what I was gonna do as well. I was gonna call my two friends and have them over for a right old knees-up.’

He raised his eyebrows again and was gone. She resisted the urge to run after him. He’d be back, surely he’d be back? Grumbling under her breath she leaned back into the sofa and cracked the spell book open. It was heavy and lay on her legs like a sleeping cat. The first page was covered in writing she didn’t understand, letters she didn’t even recognise.

She stared and stared until her eyes began to water and when they did, the page went blurry and she slammed the book shut. He’d left her with a book she couldn’t bloody read, probably just to shut her up while he made his escape.

She scrubbed her eyes with her hands and jumped as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and read the text. It was from Lara, which made sense as she was only person who ever texted her. The feeling she’d got when she read Martin’s email returned, only worse. Worser.

Hey we have to talk I can’t come out could you come to Harrow please?