He said nothing for five whole seconds. I counted. I wanted to gather up my words and stuff them back into my uncontrollable mouth.
“Yes, actually. We have. He’s asked me to help out on a special assignment,” Marco said quietly.
“Oh, awesome!” I said. Why didn’t he sound more excited?
“Speaking of my assignment, I’d better get back to my work.” I knew it. I’d prodded too hard, and now Marco was retreating.
“Do you have to?”
He smiled and gave me a funny look that had an even funnier effect on me. The butterflies destroyed my appetite once and for all.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Smile like that. Pull that face. Ask me to stay. There’s a very real risk that I’ll do whatever you ask, Helen.”
I smiled. “In that case, follow me.”
Twenty minutes later, we were on the top deck of the 43 bus heading towards London Bridge.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Marco asked once we sat down. We were lucky enough to get the best seats in the house: the row at the very front. It had the widest window, and sitting there felt like you were driving the bus.
“This is it!” I said.
“Helen Thomas, I know London is a lot bigger than my hometown. But I have been on a bus before.”
“It’s not the bus that’s special, Marco. It’s the journey. This is my favourite bus route.”
“Oh. Why’s that?” He looked genuinely interested.
“I’ll show you. Think of it as a personalized tour of London, minus the tourists,” I said.
The bus crawled up Holloway Road, stuck in Saturday night traffic. The closer we got to Highbury Corner, the less we moved. The more exciting tourist highlights were at least twenty minutes away. I had to improvise.
“See that building over there?” I said, pointing across the road. “That’s my old library. I pretty much lived there on the Saturdays I wasn’t with Dad. Sometimes Mum would take yoga classes in the Buddhist Centre next door.”
“Free babysitting. Very clever,” Marco said.
“I’d never thought of it that way,” I said, laughing. “I was just so happy to be in the library.”
Marco turned away from the window and put his arm around me. “A girl who’s happiest in the library is one I think I’d get along with.” The corny line didn’t stop the heat from flooding my face. I unzipped my parka to let some cool air in.
The bus moved past the traffic jam at Highbury Corner and picked up the pace. We’d reached a stretch of high street jammed with pubs, bars, restaurants and boutiques. I knew a couple of these places, like Nando’s and a Turkish restaurant Mum used to love. We didn’t consider going anywhere else. The rest of the street was a little too fancy for our budget.
The bus wound its way past Exmouth Market. I pointed out the place where I took drama lessons one summer holiday. “Mum was friends with one of the tutors, so he got her a good deal,” I said.
“I can’t imagine you as a thespian,” Marco said. Sometimes, it was really obvious that English was his second language. He used the sort of words that belonged in a BBC period drama.
“I wasn’t! I hated every minute of it, but Mum needed something to keep me busy over the summer break while she was at work.”
I stuck out like a sore thumb at that place. Everything, from my skin to my hair to what I had in my packed lunch, set me apart from the posh kids who went there. I was almost grateful when September rolled around, and I started the new school year with familiar faces.
“I take it this is bringing back some unpleasant memories?” Marco asked. My emotions, including the bitterness of feeling like an outsider in my own city, must have danced across my face.
“Yeah. It’s been a long time since I thought about how unhappy I was there,” I said. “It’s just weird, how certain places are linked to strong feelings. Do you know what I mean?”
Marco turned back to face the front of the bus. “Unfortunately, I do. After my mother left, I couldn’t bring myself to set foot in her study. Neither could Father.”
“That sounds awful,” I said.
“Yes, it was. A part of me wonders if that’s why Father had me start boarding school a year sooner than usual.”
“Why? She didn’t leave because of you,” I said.
“Of course not. But it would have been a constant reminder.”
“Well, now this bus route will remind me of something better,” I said. “You.”
Then I reached over and kissed him gently on the lips.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Maria was at the end of her tether. The house arrest turned her into an unofficial prison guard/babysitter, and it wasn’t fair. For example, apparently Apollo ate an astonishing amount for an immortal. You know, beings that have no need to eat.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. He demands three square meals per day, plus enough snacks to keep him going through the night,” Maria said, exasperated.
“Maria, this isn’t a hotel. Why can’t he make his own food?” I asked while making my toast.
“I let him do that once and returned to find my kitchen turned upside down! You know what these fools are like. They haven’t the faintest idea how to do anything for themselves.”
Maria was right about that one. It took Aphrodite weeks to figure out that you have to peel bananas before they go into a smoothie.
As if on cue, Apollo came into the kitchen carrying a stack of dirty plates and mugs down from his room.
“Don’t forget to load up the dishwasher,” Maria called after him. Apollo turned and glared at us, but put his dirty plates into the dishwasher.
“Gossiping, are we?” Apollo said.
He finished loading the dishwasher and turned his attention to the fridge. “I’m having one of the most intense creative spurts I’ve had in decades, and I think better on a full stomach. You have no right to judge me.”
Maria rolled her eyes. “Eat all you want, my darling, just clean up after yourself. That is all I ask. Goodness knows you have the time!”
“I don’t recall anyone asking Michelangelo to wash his dishes in between painting the Sistine Chapel,” Apollo muttered. “Anyway, Helen, how was school? Is the outside world coping without me?”
“Oh yeah, everyone seems to be doing fine. No one has bothered asking about you in days,” I said, spreading some extra peanut butter on my toast corners. Apollo pretended not to care. It was in his DNA to adore being adored.
“Well, this house arrest is the best thing that’s happened to me in years,” he said. “I’ve had no distractions, so my creative output is off the charts. I just wished this place had a recording studio, like my flat in Hackney.”
Apollo carried on talking about his “creative output” to no one in particular while he assembled a ginormous sandwich.
“I haven’t spoken to Aphrodite in a few days. Have you?” I asked Maria once Apollo disappeared with his snack.
“No, and I’d rather keep it that way. That one is in a mood fouler than Medusa’s face,” she said.
It must have been tough for Aphrodite. Not only was she confined to the house, but she couldn’t use the internet just in case she tried to go viral again.
Better her than me. How long could I go without Wi-Fi before smacking my head against the wall? Two or three days max, if I was honest.
TWENTY-EIGHT
An almighty thud shook me out of my sleep. It came from Aphrodite’s room above mine. What on earth was she doing now?
The time on my phone said it was just after midnight. I clamped my pillow over my head and tried to get back to sleep, but it was no use. I heard crash after crash, then Dad’s voice. He and Aphrodite were arguing. At this hour? I had no choice but to march upstairs and remind them that some of us needed our beauty sleep.
“Guys, can you please argue another time! I have school in the—”
I cut off abruptly at the sight of
Aphrodite’s room. Every single item of furniture was upturned and the contents of her walk-in wardrobe littered the floor. In the centre of the chaos stood Aphrodite. But not like I’d ever seen her before.
She hovered a few feet above the floor. It was as though she was illuminated from the inside out. Her eyes shone white, and when she opened her mouth, white light poured out. Her dark hair stood on end, coiling towards the ceiling. She seemed to generate pure electricity, the air crackled with it.
Whoa. It was terrifying.
“It’s no use, Aphrodite,” Dad shouted. “You know I can’t let you leave the house.”
Aphrodite raised her hand, flinging a wooden chest of drawers across the room. It crashed against the wall, splintering into pieces.
“Silence!” Aphrodite shouted, and her voice boomed from every corner in the room. “You’re weak and useless. A pathetic excuse for a god,” she spat. “You thought you could imprison me in this house? I’ve kept my powers sharp by practising over the years. Your little spells can’t stop me!”
Aphrodite lifted both arms, as though she was pushing a heavy weight above her head. Cracks appeared on the ceiling, followed by a whooshing sound as cold wind circulated around the room.
I looked up. “Dad!” I yelled. “She’s taking off the roof!”
“Helen, get back downstairs!” he shouted. “It’s not safe!”
Suddenly the room filled with a blinding white light. I closed my eyes and stumbled out of the room and down the attic stairs. Eros and Apollo were there, cowering behind me.
We heard a loud crack, then gusts of freezing cold night air flooded the house. I crept back into Aphrodite’s room. An expanse of inky purple sky came into view, exposing us to the chilly night air. The roof of our house was nowhere to be seen. I looked up and saw clouds swirling in the sky above.
Where the heck was our roof?!
“Dad, what has she done?” I shrieked. He paced up and down the room, careful not to trip over the roof debris.
“Quiet, Helen,” he snapped. “I need to think!”
Typical Dad. Our roof had been blown into oblivion but he needed to think? There was no way the neighbours didn’t hear that. I expected to hear the sirens of a fire engine any minute. How on earth would we explain this?
And more importantly, where was Aphrodite?
I saw a blur of white from the corner of my eye. Aphrodite hovered in mid-air, right where our roof would have been. I crept over to her while Apollo and Eros stayed behind me.
“Helen,” Eros said, grabbing my shoulder. “Let’s give her some time alone. She might still be angry.”
“We don’t have time, Eros.” I said. “What if the neighbours come outside and see Aphrodite floating over our house? The Council would find out and then we’ll lose everything.”
Dad was still muttering to himself in the corner. It was up to me to talk Aphrodite down from the roof.
I shivered in my dressing gown and walked closer to the glowing white apparition hovering several metres above me. “Aphrodite, what did you do with the roof?” I asked. “Do you reckon we could … y’know … get it back?”
But she wasn’t paying attention to me. She swayed in the air, making a strange choking sound. Was she sobbing?
“I just want to be free,” she said, in between convulsive sobs that shook her whole body. My fear of her softened a little.
“But it’s only thirty days, Aphrodite. Then you can leave the house, and—”
“I’m not talking about the house arrest! I want true freedom,” she said. “There was a time when entire nations worshipped me for my powers. I want the world to know what I can do. And all he wants to do is stop me,” Aphrodite said, throwing Dad a filthy look. He was too deep in concentration to notice. “I just want to make the world a more beautiful place,” she continued. “It’s my reason for being.”
“But you can make the world more beautiful, Aphrodite,” I said. “You just can’t be famous for it. That’s the deal, right?” Aphrodite was silent, but I could tell she was listening.
“Do you know how lucky you are? I wish I had a fraction of your powers. You have everlasting life, for goodness’ sake!” I said. “And you’re willing to throw that away over a bit of fame?”
“You’ll never understand what it’s like,” Aphrodite snapped. “Walk in my shoes for just one day, and you’ll never want to take them off. The feeling of being adored … it’s utterly intoxicating.”
It was infuriating. Aphrodite had so much already. And if she insisted on pursuing global fame and adoration, it would tear what little family I had left apart.
Tears of rage filled my eyes. “Then go! You’ve destroyed our home, so why won’t you leave?” I was done with her.
Aphrodite’s eyes met mine. The light glowing through her body had faded.
“You know my mum is dead, Aphrodite!” The words stuck in my throat as I spat them out. “Why would you want to take away my only other parent?” I cried. “You. This family. You’re all I have left,” I said, tears rolling down my cheeks.
Eros, Apollo and Dad put their arms around me. “Aphrodite, you can tear this house apart if you like,” Dad shouted up at her. “But you still can’t leave it. Not until your house arrest is up.”
That explained why Aphrodite hovered in mid-air. It was the closest she could get to leaving the house.
“Eros and Apollo, I’m going to need your help,” Dad whispered. “She’s draining her powers. Together, we can bring her down.”
“Don’t bother,” Aphrodite said. She had to have the final word, as always.
We watched as she floated back down to the floor of her room. “Helen’s right,” she said, once her feet were fully on the ground. “There’s no point in giving the odious Council members an excuse to strip us of our powers.”
Dad took a deep breath, as though he was calming himself down. Eros hugged Aphrodite while the rest of us stood back, still dazed. I shivered in my pyjamas.
“We have some cleaning up to do,” Dad said.
We all pitched in. Aphrodite used what was left of her powers to mend the furniture. Eros and I hung her clothes back up in the wardrobe. Apollo and Dad transformed the rubble on the bedroom floor into the roof.
By the time we finished, the only traces of the night’s activity were the cracks in the ceiling corners. It was quite a satisfying task, actually. And the first time we’d worked together as a family.
Dad turned to me. “Helen, you need to be in bed.” The cold air and excitement meant I was far from sleepy, but I wasn’t about to argue with him.
“I have a plan,” Dad said, once we were outside my bedroom. “I’m going to conjure high winds and a thunderstorm just over the house. It’s a highly improbable event to occur naturally, but it should explain the noise to our neighbours.”
“Do you think it will get back to the Council?” I asked.
Dad sighed. “We will find out soon,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. I walked into my bedroom.
“And Helen?” Dad said. “Thank you for tonight. It takes a rare skill to get through to Aphrodite. I’m so pleased you were here to help.”
“No worries, Dad.” Weirdly, tonight had made me feel closer to my family than ever. A small part of me finally understood why Aphrodite acted the way she did. I nearly felt sorry for her.
TWENTY-NINE
Dad stuck to his word. Everyone at school was talking about the freak storm on my road. It was kind of exciting, being so close to the source of school gossip (at least when it’s not about Apollo).
I rushed out of the school gates, eager to meet my friends. They’d been a bit frosty with me since my disappearing act on Friday night – I never did make it to the sleepover. I knew I had to make it up somehow, so I promised I’d treat them to salted caramel lattes.
As we dawdled home with our lattes in hand, I noticed a message from Marco.
M: How are you, beautiful Helen? x
It was the first time he’d cal
led me beautiful!!! I reread the message several times, trying to absorb the full gravity of what he’d said. He was calling me, Helen Thomas, beautiful. Not pretty or cute or nice.
But beautiful.
H: I’m all good :) Bit tired cos I was so close to that storm. Soooo loud, it kept me up all night ha! x
“What’s the matter, Hels? You giving us the silent treatment?” Noor asked. I’d been quiet for a few minutes, enjoying Marco’s last message.
“Huh? Oh, no. I’m fine,” I said. “Marco’s in the area so I’m gonna head back and meet him at Cafe Gio’s.”
I looked up. Three pairs of eyes drilled into me. What did I say?
“Seriously, Helen?” Noor said.
“What’s the matter? We’re all going home anyway,” I said.
Daphne sighed. “It seems like you skip any chance to hang with us!”
“And you don’t say anything in the group chat any more. Even when I post awesome GIFs!” Yasmin said.
I rolled my eyes. Why were they giving me such a hard time? If only they knew how much I had to deal with at home. Then maybe they’d understand.
Daphne gave me a hard look. “Look, Helen. We’re dead excited that you have a boyfriend and all. But we’re still your mates. You can’t abandon us for him.”
“Plus you’ve been so secretive lately,” Yasmin said. “It’s like you’re hardly here at all.”
I had been distant, I guess.
“I get it. I do, honestly,” I said. “But I can’t talk right now. I need to go—”
“Let me guess. You’re going to meet Marco?” Daphne asked.
I couldn’t deal with them right now.
“I’d better get going,” I said, ducking away from the main road. They shouted after me, but I didn’t turn around.
The cafe seemed even busier than normal, full of people my age and young families with prams escaping the winter cold. I found a table in the middle, right by the counter.
Marco walked in and caught my eye. For the first time, seeing his face didn’t make me want to collapse with lust. I was worried that I’d really annoyed the girls. I had been distant lately, but so what? Did I need to reply to every single message in the group chat?
Oh My Gods Page 14
