‘Don’t be an ass,’ said Dorek. ‘What if it drops out of the sky when we’re five hundred feet up?’
Meena had to quell her worries. Normally on civilian planes you didn’t refuel when there were people on board. Sitting there while the fuel pulsed into the tank felt wrong, but she had to accept that the army did things differently. And she didn’t want to appear a wimp.
A soldier stepped up to Dorek’s window and handed him another laptop. ‘General Chambers says the briefing documents are all on there.’
The ground crew had nearly finished refuelling. Meena looked out of the window and saw, over the trees, an Elizabethan mansion, like a hotel. ‘Er — where exactly are we?’
‘Chequers.’
Meena thought she’d misheard. ‘Chequers? As in where the Prime Minister lives?’
‘Yep,’ said Dorek. ‘We’ve got to go take him some homework.’
No, go away, thought Ben. Leave me alone. I want to sleep.
‘Wake up,’ a voice was shouting. ‘You’ve got to wake up.’
Hands grasped his shoulders and shook him. Ben tried to bat them off. He turned over, trying to retreat into his cocoon of sleep. When he moved, rain trickled down inside the collar of his jacket.
Still the hands shook him. ‘Wake up. You can’t sleep.’ Something was touched to his lips. ‘Drink this.’
He tasted warm Coca-Cola. It went down the wrong way, and he coughed and sat up. Water streamed down his forehead. Go away, he thought.
‘Are you awake?’
He forced his eyes open and saw a tubby girl wearing a black zip-up jumpsuit and a neoprene balaclava. For a moment he thought he’d been kidnapped by aliens. Except for her red lipstick and her eye make-up running in the rain.
‘Who are you?’ he said.
‘Eva.’ She held out a Mars Bar. ‘Eat this — it’ll give you energy.’
Ben suddenly realized he was ravenous. He snatched the Mars Bar but could barely tear open the wrapper. His fingers felt like fat sausages, all boneless and uncontrollable. Eva had to open it for him. He wolfed the bar down in three bites.
She handed him the Coke can again. ‘Have some more.’
He drank it obediently.
The sugar rush started immediately, as if it had been injected directly into his veins. He started to shiver.
Eva pulled him to his feet. ‘Come on, we’d better get you something warm.’
He still didn’t want to move; he felt too cold for that. He wanted to curl up in a ball so that he could keep warm.
Eva linked her arm through his and nudged his legs with his feet. ‘Come on, start walking. You’re getting hypothermia — that’s why you don’t want to move. But if you stay in that doorway you’ll die.’
Ben groaned.
‘Come on,’ said Eva, and shook him. ‘Once you get moving you’ll feel better.’
Ben started to walk, leaning heavily on her. It wasn’t her words that made him try; it was her running eye make-up. It made her look like Marilyn Manson. He wasn’t going to disobey someone who looked like that.
They were approaching a big interchange. Large, old-looking buildings surrounded a statue of some guy with wings. Buses stood abandoned and the road was littered with debris.
Ben realized he knew the place. ‘Is this Piccadilly Circus?’
‘Yeah,’ said Eva.
Ben clung onto Eva’s arm as she led him purposefully across the road. He remembered Piccadilly Circus as a crowded, bustling place. Now the huge advertising signs stood dark, brooding over the deserted roads. The giant record shop on the corner was no longer a vibrant place pumping out music. It was empty and silent.
Funny how those things still took Ben by surprise. He felt like any second he would wake up back in his bed in Macclesfield.
‘In here,’ said Eva. She pushed open a door.
Ben found himself surrounded by golf carts and checked trousers. They were in the sports store Lillywhites. And mercifully, it was dry.
‘Up here,’ said Eva. She dragged him towards the stairs.
Ben groaned again. Now that he’d stopped, he didn’t want to move. ‘Can’t we use the lift?’ he asked, before he realized it wouldn’t be working.
‘It’s only three floors,’ she said.
He followed Eva’s jumpsuited rear, pulling himself up by the handrail. She had funny little boots too; they seemed to be part of the jumpsuit. Why was she dressed like a black Teletubby?
She waited for him by the fire doors at the top. He tried to push the door open but the spring was heavy and he had to give it a second go.
They emerged on the shop floor, in the diving department. Ben saw a chair and went to sit down.
‘Don’t sit down for a moment,’ Eva ordered him. ‘I need to see what size you are.’
Ben stopped where he was and looked at her wearily. She looked him up and down. ‘OK, now you can sit.’
Ben sank down on the chair while Eva marched off. Short-sleeved diving suits hung around him, crisscrossed with zips and smelling of rubber. He realized that was what Eva’s weird outfit was: a diving suit.
She came marching back with a handful of multi-coloured items and dumped them in his lap. ‘Eat those. And don’t you dare go to sleep again.’
They were energy bars. Ben picked one up and pulled at the wrapper. His fingers were still cold and it was no easier to undo than the Mars Bar. How ironic, he thought, if you died because you didn’t have the strength to open your energy bar. He put the wrapper between his teeth and tore it. He wolfed one bar down, then started on a second.
‘You’re not asleep, are you?’ called Eva’s voice. He couldn’t see her between the racks but he could hear the scrape of hangers on rails.
‘No,’ called Ben, crumbs dropping out of his mouth.
‘Get undressed.’
‘Eh?’ Ben stopped chewing for a moment, thinking he’d misheard. He swallowed. ‘What?’
‘Take your clothes off. You’ll catch your death.’
‘But—’
‘Go on.’ He heard more hangers squeak as Eva searched through them.
Her tone was so insistent Ben realized he’d have to comply. He didn’t want that strange streaky face looming over him asking him if he was shy. He stood up and took off the London Underground jacket, then his sweatshirt. It was stuck to his arms and he had to practically peel it off. It fell in a filthy heap on the floor. He hadn’t realized how disgusting it was until he saw it lying there. It looked like he’d crawled through a mud pit in it.
Eva came tramping back through the rails again. She dumped a pile of gear at his feet. Ben was about to take his T-shirt off, then stopped, embarrassed.
‘Go on,’ she said. ‘I need to see how well coordinated you are.’
Ben pulled the T-shirt off over his head.
‘You’ll live.’ Eva pointed at the clothes dumped on the carpet. ‘See if any of those fit. I’ll be back in a minute.’
He didn’t touch them until she was well out of the way, swishing hangers again.
She’d brought packets of black thermal underwear. He ripped one open and his fingers felt the soft pile of the fabric. Just the touch of it made him feel warmer. He shook it out of its packet. It was a long-sleeved vest. He couldn’t get into it fast enough. As his arms slid in he felt a huge sense of relief. His skin felt warm for the first time in hours.
Eva came back with a small black neoprene item.
Ben examined it cautiously. ‘A hood?’
‘You lose a lot of heat through your head,’ said Eva. ‘Put it on.’
There was a mirror nearby. He pulled the hood on and glanced at his reflection. Dirty, grime-smeared face, hollow eyes, purple lips all framed by a tight black hood. He looked like a nightmare.