by Ben Miller
‘Eggy eggy!’ shouted Lana.
‘Okay,’ said Harrison, having another Troublesome Thought. If their mother and father were in the black hole, did that mean he was now in charge?
‘Eggy eggy!’ Lana repeated.
‘What’s the magic word?’ asked Harrison.
‘Eggy eggy!’ shouted Lana, twice as loudly.
‘Please,’ corrected Harrison. And as he said it, he suddenly realised why his parents were always saying the same to him. After all, it really isn’t very nice when someone orders you about without being polite.
‘Pleeease,’ said Lana, in the same tone of voice that you might say, ‘Oh, stop bothering me.’
Harrison decided the only way he could get her to be quiet, so he could come up with a plan, would be to give her some food. But feeding a three-year-old turned out to be a lot harder than it looked. No sooner had Harrison managed to serve Lana her egg than she wanted the top cutting off. No sooner had he blown on it to get it to the perfect temperature than she demanded salt on top. No sooner had he found her a cushion to get her to exactly the right height than she wanted a glass of water. By the time breakfast was over, Harrison was completely exhausted.
Was this what his parents went through every day? No wonder they were always complaining.
Suddenly, he found himself missing them really badly. What would he do without them?
If his father wasn’t there, who would give him a slice of toast and peanut butter if he woke up feeling hungry? And without his mother, who would tuck him into bed at night and read him a story?
Was he going to spend the rest of his life without seeing them ever again?
He felt his throat tighten and his eyes prick with tears.
‘Don’t cry, Haddy,’ said Lana.
He quickly wiped his eyes so she wouldn’t see him crying. If his sister found out that their mother and father were stuck in a black hole, she would be really upset.
No. He had to get his parents back. Whatever it took.
Which is why, half an hour later, Harrison found himself pushing Lana’s toy ambulance up the gravel path to Shelley’s grandmother’s purple front door, with Lana at the steering wheel and his black hole tied to the roof.
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried pushing a toy ambulance up a gravel path, but if you have, you’ll know it’s very noisy. In Harrison’s case, it was so noisy that he completely failed to hear the extraordinary sound that was coming from inside the cottage until he was right outside its front door.
He pushed open the letterbox and peered through.
Inside, every clock was ringing: digital clocks, wind-up clocks, pendulum clocks, bedside clocks, carriage clocks, cuckoo clocks, alarm clocks, grandfather clocks and maritime clocks, each of them straining to make their own voice heard. It was deafening. And there, at the other end of the hall, was Shelley’s grandmother, shuffling slowly back and forth, muttering to herself.
‘Hello!’ called Harrison.
‘Hello!’ called Lana in reply.
‘I’m talking to Shelley’s grandmother,’ explained Harrison.
‘I’m hungry,’ replied Lana. ‘I want a biscuit.’
Harrison pushed his right arm through the letterbox and waved. ‘Shelley’s grandmother. It’s me, Harrison!’ he shouted. But it was no use. The clocks were ringing so loudly there was no way the old lady could hear him.
Harrison felt something prickling the inside of his elbow. It seemed to be a piece of string with one end attached to the inside of the door; the other end felt loose. He gave it a pull, and out it came, with a door key attached to the end of it!
For a moment, Harrison hesitated. He didn’t want to give Shelley’s grandmother a fright by breaking into her house. Then he remembered that if he didn’t get his parents out of the black hole, he and Lana might never see them again, and he decided it was worth the risk. So he untied his black hole from the roof of the ambulance and slotted the key into the lock on the front door. It fitted perfectly, and the next thing he knew, he and Lana were standing in the hallway.
He needn’t have worried about scaring Shelley’s grandmother. She was so deep in thought that she behaved as if having two small children sneak into her house uninvited was the most natural thing in the world. Harrison had to stand right in her path, waving both arms, before she even acknowledged their presence.
‘I need to find Shelley!’ he called, trying to make himself heard over the din of the clocks.
‘What?’ replied Shelley’s grandmother, cupping her hand to her ear. ‘I can’t hear you.’
‘I said . . .’ began Harrison, and then paused. The alarm nearest him, an old-fashioned bedside clock with two bells, suddenly stopped ringing. Then the mechanical cuckoo in the clock above him closed its beak, fell silent and sprang back behind closed doors. Then, in twos and threes, and dozens and scores, all the other clocks fell silent too, until the only sound remaining was the bleep of Shelley’s grandmother’s digital watch.
For a moment, they all stood staring at it, until Harrison stepped forward and switched it off.
‘Thank you,’ said Shelley’s grandmother. ‘I’ve never been able to work that thing.’
‘I need to find Shelley!’ exclaimed Harrison one more time, but Shelley’s grandmother put her finger to her lips, signalling for him to be silent.
‘Out of the question,’ she said.
‘I want a biscuit,’ said Lana. ‘A pink wafer.’
‘Have you any idea,’ asked Shelley’s grandmother, shaking her head in disbelief, ‘what’s happening here?’
‘No,’ said Harrison, because he didn’t.
‘It’s time,’ announced Shelley’s grandmother. ‘For my Appointment With Destiny!’
She pushed on the green door, and about ten minutes later, after a considerable amount of huffing and puffing and having a little break to catch their breath, they found themselves in her laboratory.
Only this time, instead of a pulsing white light, at the centre of the machine was an enormous black disc.
‘You made a black hole!’ exclaimed Harrison.
‘Three, actually,’ said Shelley’s grandmother, puffing herself up with pride. ‘I made the first just before breakfast. Unfortunately, it wasn’t stable. After breakfast, I made the second. But it wasn’t big enough for me to climb into. Then I made this! Then I had to stop because of my crossing duty, which, by the way, I noticed you two weren’t there for.’
‘Sorry about that,’ said Harrison.
‘Not a problem,’ said Shelley’s grandmother. ‘It’s a busy time. The point is, I’ve made a black hole and now I need to turn it into an Einstein-Rosen bridge. Only I’ve still got no idea how!’
‘But-but . . . where are you going?’ asked Harrison.
‘The future!’ cried the old lady. ‘To a time where anyone can do anything, and that includes young girls who want to be astronomers!’
‘But you can’t leave! I need you to help me get my parents back,’ said Harrison. ‘I got really cross and then spun around, like this!’ He demonstrated with his black hole, being careful not to touch Lana or Shelley’s grandmother – he didn’t need anyone else falling in! ‘And then they got sucked inside! I have to get them out!’
‘Chocolate finger?’ said Lana.
‘Impossible!’ said Shelley’s grandmother.
‘Please!’ begged Harrison.
‘Or an Oreo?’ said Lana, with even more feeling.
Shelley’s grandmother turned to an enormous blackboard that was covered in complicated-looking maths. ‘I don’t have time to help you! I’ve only got seven minutes left! And I still haven’t figured out how to turn this into an Einstein-Rosen bridge!’
She rubbed her chin furiously, as if she was trying to figure out the answer to a very difficult problem. Then her eye caught a biscuit tin which was standing among some tea things on a workbench.
‘Here’s a Garibaldi,’ she said to Lana.
‘But what am I supposed
to do?’ yelled Harrison.
‘Wait!’ exclaimed Shelley’s grandmother. ‘Did you say you spun round?’
‘What?’ asked Harrison.
‘When your parents fell into the hole, you said you were spinning?’
Harrison nodded.
‘Of course!’ exclaimed Shelley’s grandmother, with a triumphant look in her eye. ‘That’s it! The black hole should be spinning . . .’
She scribbled some elaborate maths on the board.
‘Yes!’ she cried. ‘A spinning black hole forms an Einstein-Rosen bridge.’ She checked one of her three watches. ‘There’s still time!’ she said to Harrison. ‘Quick! I need you to pedal as fast as you can!’
‘No!’ said Harrison. ‘You have to help me!’ He couldn’t possibly rescue his parents or Blue, or even Hector Broom, unless he found Shelley, but the old lady wasn’t listening to him! What was wrong with all these grownups? His heart began to race as anger boiled up inside! He wanted so badly to kick and yell and tell Shelley’s grandmother exactly what he thought of her, but . . .
He didn’t.
Instead, he took a deep breath. And another deep breath. And another.
And then, in the calmest voice he could muster, he said: ‘Not until you tell me where Shelley is. I’m really scared that without her I’ll never see my parents again.’
‘Fine,’ said Shelley’s grandmother, with a roll of her eyes, and handed Harrison a postcard. On it was a picture of a telescope, perched high on a mountain. ‘Shelley’s here.’
Harrison took the postcard with a sigh of relief. It had worked. Being calm and asking simply for help rather than yelling and screaming meant that he now knew where to find Shelley.
‘Now, can we please do this? I’m running out of time!’ Shelley’s grandmother said with a tut. Without so much as another word, she took Harrison’s black hole and tied it safely out of Lana’s reach, then hoisted him onto the seat of the bicycle. Harrison could only just touch the pedals, but by standing up off the seat, and leaning all his weight forward, he managed to get them moving.
A giant pulley began to turn and the whole machine revolved, like a colossal version of Shelley’s grandmother’s black globe.
‘Faster!’ yelled Shelley’s grandmother, pointing at a dial. ‘Faster!’
Harrison pedalled as fast as he could.
‘Good,’ said Shelley’s grandmother. ‘Now keep it steady while I check something . . .’
She scribbled a few more calculations on the board.
‘Right. I need to hit that thing at forty-two miles an hour! Wish me luck!’
Harrison was expecting her to run and jump into the black hole. But he’d forgotten, of course, that the old lady didn’t move with that much speed. Instead, he watched as she clambered slowly onto a mobility scooter and released the brake.
The next few moments were a bit boring, as nothing much happened. Harrison kept on pedalling, Lana nibbled on her biscuit and Shelley’s grandmother trundled slowly towards her spinning black hole.
Harrison was just beginning to wonder how much longer he could keep up the pace with his pedalling, when the front tyre of the mobility scooter touched the edge of the black hole, and the old lady shot into the void with uncharacteristic speed, until all Harrison could see were the rear tyres, frozen in time. Soon even they had faded from view, and Shelley’s grandmother was gone.
‘I don’t like Gary Baldy,’ said Lana, and threw her half-eaten Garibaldi biscuit into the middle of the black hole.
Harrison stopped pedalling. What was he going to do now?
For a few moments after Shelley’s grandmother disappeared, Harrison felt very lost and alone.
His parents had vanished into his black hole and now the only grown-up other than Shelley who could have helped him was gone too.
As he climbed down from the bicycle seat, his eyes began to tingle with tears for the second time that day.
‘Gone,’ said Lana, pointing at the giant black hole.
‘Yes,’ Harrison replied.
Lana looked worried.
‘Don’t worry, Lana,’ he said, with more confidence than he felt. ‘It’s all going to be all right.’
He looked down at the postcard Shelley’s grandmother had given him. He turned it over and read what was on the back:
He frowned. Why was it from Shelley to Shelley? Did Shelley and her grandmother have the same name? That was odd.
Harrison turned the postcard over again, so that he could look at the picture. In very small writing, in one corner, it said:
Very Large Telescope, Mount Paranal, Chile.
Harrison took a deep breath. He was eight years old. How was he ever going to get to Chile? And who would look after Lana while he was gone? It was impossible.
Which was when he remembered the one person who could help him.
When Harrison opened the front door of the cottage the following morning, he hardly recognised the teenager standing on the step. He was wearing mirror shades and a faded green army jacket, and his hair was gelled in a quiff.
‘Greetings, H,’ the boy said. ‘I came as soon as I could.’
‘Sonny!’ Harrison rushed forward and gave his big brother a hug. In fact, Sonny was actually Harrison’s half-brother because they had the same father, though Sonny lived with his mother in London.
Harrison had phoned Sonny last night and told him everything that had happened. Sonny might not be a grown-up, but now that his brother was here, Harrison was sure he could help him fix everything.
‘Where’s Lana?’ asked Sonny, removing his shades.
‘At school,’ said Harrison proudly. ‘I gave her breakfast too.’
‘That’s really impressive,’ said Sonny, following his brother through to the kitchen. ‘Wait . . . what happened here?’
The entire kitchen was empty. All that was left was the black hole, tied to the back of the last remaining chair. The table, the pots, the pans, the crockery, the cutlery, the coffee maker, the fridge, all of them were gone.
‘I have to keep feeding it,’ explained Harrison, ‘or it will shrink to nothing.’
‘I see,’ said Sonny gravely. ‘And that’s where Dad and your mum are?’ he asked, waving his hand near the black hole’s surface to see if he could see any reflection.
‘It was an accident,’ said Harrison. ‘And I would say sorry, except I can’t, because they’re in there and I’m out here. That’s why I have to keep throwing things in, because I don’t know what will happen if it vanishes completely.’
‘Hmmm . . .’ said Sonny. ‘You said on the phone that you need to go to Chile to find this Shelley person. But how are you going to get the black hole on a plane? You can’t check it in; the plane would disappear. Guess you’ll have to take it as hand luggage.’
‘A plane?’ asked Harrison.
‘How else are you going to get to Chile?’ replied Sonny.
‘But do they let children fly on their own?’ asked Harrison.
‘Never,’ said Sonny. ‘But they let teenagers.’
‘Where are you travelling to, sir?’ asked the lady at the check-in, glancing up at the tall, raincoat-wearing gentleman in mirror shades.
‘Santiago,’ said Harrison. He had the string of his black hole in his left hand, so with his right hand, he reached into his inside pocket and handed over Sonny’s passport. As the sleeves on his father’s raincoat were much too long, he had bunched them up under his armpits so no one would notice.
The lady tapped away at her keyboard, then frowned at her screen.
‘And how old are you?’ she asked.
‘Thirteen,’ replied Harrison, not daring to catch her eye. ‘My parents gave me this letter,’ he said, handing over an envelope. Of course his parents had done nothing of the sort; Sonny had written it on the computer and forged their father’s signature.
The lady frowned, then tapped on the keyboard again and frowned some more. She picked up Sonny’s passport and studied it very carefully.
She looked up at Harrison.
‘Would you mind taking your sunglasses off?’ she asked.
‘Of course,’ said Harrison, hoping she would fall for his disguise.
He and Sonny looked alike, but not that alike. That morning, on their way to the train station, they had asked the taxi to stop off at a hairdresser called Hairs R Us.
‘My little brother really wants to look like me,’ Sonny had said to Karl (‘with a K’), the man in charge, pretending to be embarrassed.
‘I’m not that little,’ said Harrison.
‘So we’re going to give you a quiff, then, are we?’ asked Karl.
‘And I want it to be brown too,’ said Harrison, whose hair was blond. He caught Sonny’s eye and his brother winked.
‘Really?’ asked Karl. ‘Do your parents know about this?’
‘Yeah, they said it was totally fine,’ said Sonny, in his most teenage of teenage voices. ‘They’ve given us cash,’ he said, flashing a couple of twenty pound notes.
‘In that case,’ said Karl. ‘You can have it purple with pink spots.’
Now, as he stood at the check-in desk, Harrison just hoped that the haircut and dye would be enough to convince the lady that he was his older brother.
The lady continued to stare at the screen. And then . . . ‘Do you have any luggage to check in?’ she asked.
Harrison blinked. Did this mean she was going to let him on the plane?
‘No,’ he said.
‘Any hand luggage?’
Harrison looked at the black hole.
‘Just this,’ he said.
There was a long pause, while the lady studied something on her screen.
‘You’ll be boarding from Gate C52,’ she said, and handed Harrison the passport. Inside it was a freshly-printed boarding pass. ‘Have a good flight.’
Harrison thanked her, put the sunglasses back on, turned and walked straight into one of the shiny metal posts that told you where to queue. The problem, of course, was that he was sitting on Sonny’s shoulders, and Sonny couldn’t properly see where he was going.
