The floor tiles were white too, and there was a giant clock above it all, surrounded by stained glass. The sun streamed through it, making everything even brighter and more colourful.
‘It’s like a spaceship!’ said Hamish.
There were beautiful bright blue tiles on the wall, spelling out Arcadian Lane, but, even though this place looked a bit like it was from the future, all the adverts on the walls were really old and faded.
‘I’m afraid what you will see today may well cause you never to sleep again,’ said the lady. ‘First, though, we need to get in here.’
She pointed at a very normal-looking passport photo machine.
‘Why?’ said Alice. ‘Do we need ID? I’ve got my leisure-centre card.’
‘You’ll see,’ said the woman.
The three of them squeezed into the booth, which was rather a snug fit, and the woman pulled out a silver coin. She put it in the machine and hit the big red button.
A countdown started on the screen in front of them.
3 . . .
2 . . .
‘Are we supposed to smile?’ asked Hamish.
1 . . .
Hamish panicked and did a really weird smile.
‘Right. Everybody out,’ said the woman. She hurried from the machine with Alice and Hamish just behind her, and strode off, trailing her hand along the tiled wall, which read:
TO THE TRAINS
Weren’t they even going to wait for the photos? Hamish and Alice glanced at each other and shrugged.
As they jogged after her, Hamish caught sight of the old posters again. He had to do a double take as he ran.
Mrs? He was sure it had said Mr Gibson a moment ago.
‘Where are we going?’ shouted Alice, as the woman turned another corner and walked down a narrow corridor.
‘You’ll see!’ shouted the woman, and Alice frowned.
‘Ol’ whatserface is a very frustrating woman,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Every time you ask her something, she just says “you’ll see” or “all will be revealed!”’
The two kids could feel a strange breeze now, rising and falling.
‘I mean, do you think this is what she’s always like?’ continued Alice. ‘If she’s at the supermarket and they ask her if she’s got a loyalty card, does she just say, “Ooh, time will tell!” and look all mysterious?’
The breeze was getting stronger now and blowing their hair all over the place. They could hear the rumble and squeal of an approaching train.
‘Let’s not miss it,’ said the woman, without looking back.
‘I thought these stations weren’t used any more?’ Hamish said. ‘I thought these were – what do you call them – “Ghost Stations”?’
As the rumble grew louder, they began to run, passing more old posters for ancient-looking films and books.
‘Come on!’ shouted the woman, who’d reached the platform. ‘It’s arriving!’
They got to her just as a huge red train THUNDERED into Arcadian Lane. The noise was deafening as it SCREEEEEEECHED and slowed. Sparks flew from underneath it and the lights above them flickered. Steam poured from the rails as it juddered to a halt with a sort of KA-JEEEEEESSSHHHH.
Hamish had never seen a train like this before. It looked both old-fashioned and modern.
‘Where are we going?’ he asked, as the woman stepped on to the train. ‘And, by the way, what’s your name?’
Two carriage doors slid open with a BEEP-BEEP-BEEP.
‘Call me Alex,’ said the woman, as she stepped on board.
Hamish and Alice looked at each other, uncertainly.
‘What do you think?’ said Hamish.
‘I’m . . . not sure,’ said Alice.
‘Come on,’ said Alex.
The train doors started to BEEP-BEEP-BEEP again.
‘What I’m about to show you concerns the very future of life on Earth,’ said Alex. ‘I intended to show the Prime Minister today and get him to take action, but it looks like those plans have changed.’
Hamish didn’t know what to do. He was a little scared.
‘It will explain what happened to your dad, Hamish,’ said Alex.
The train doors started to close. Hamish hesitated.
‘It’s now or never!’ said Alice, grabbing his hand as she leapt aboard and pulling him on to the train just as the doors snapped shut behind him.
The train started to vibrate as the engines started up. They grew louder and louder still. The windows began to rattle and shake. It was exactly the way it feels when you’re sitting in a plane that’s about to take off.
‘Hang on to something!’ yelled Alex, as the train got LOUDER and LOUDER and LOUDER . . . ‘We’re about to go through The Gap!’
More sparks flew, outside the window . . .
More steam poured from the train . . .
Hamish’s teeth began to chatter with the vibrations . . .
The two kids grabbed a pole as Alex shouted, ‘Get ready . . . Mind The Gap!’
The train SHOT OFF into the tunnel like a bullet from a gun.
All Aboard!
The train was whistling through The Gap at what felt like a million miles an hour. On a map above the seats, Hamish could see they were travelling on the Unorthodox Line.
Lights flashed by outside the windows . . . blue . . . red . . . green . . . all the colours of the rainbow. It was like they were twisting, turning, going upside down.
‘This feels weird,’ said Hamish, urgently. ‘I told my mum we were going to Downing Street and then coming straight home.’
‘We’re going to a very special place,’ said Alex. ‘A place which is a lot like the world you know. But very different too.’
‘Belgium?’ asked Alice.
‘You’ll see,’ said Alex, smiling.
‘Look, will you JUST ANSWER A QUESTION!’ said Alice, very firmly.
‘We are going to other London,’ said Alex.
Hamish frowned. What was she on about?
‘This train line is the only way to get there,’ she said. ‘The photo booth is the way to trigger its arrival. It’s our only way to the Neverpeople.’
‘Look, now that you’re starting to answer things it’s very nice and all, but it’s still pretty confusing. Who are the Neverpeople?’ said Alice, looking very serious.
‘Hmm,’ said Alex, as the colours outside the window grew stronger and more vibrant. ‘Let me put it this way: when your mum and dad found out they were going to have a baby, Hamish – they didn’t know you were going to be a little boy, did they?’
‘Well . . . I guess not,’ said Hamish, as the carriage jolted and jerked around.
‘Right,’ said Alex. ‘And when you were in your mum’s tummy they must have been thinking about what to call you, mustn’t they?’
‘Yes,’ said Hamish. ‘They said they were going to call me Hamish if I was a boy, because Dad is Scottish and Hamish is a Scottish name.’
‘And what about if you were a girl?’ asked Alex.
‘If I was a girl?’ said Hamish, looking confused, because that’s a strange thought, isn’t it? ‘I think they said if I was a girl they were going to call me . . . Holly.’
‘Holly?!’ laughed Alice. ‘Holly Ellerby? That’s a lot of L’s in one name. Hello, I’m Hollyellerby. Holly-ollerby. Hollyellerbelly.’
‘Well, what would you have been called?’ said Hamish, a bit defensively.
‘If I’d been a boy, they would’ve called me Alan,’ said Alice. ‘A good, honest name. Trustworthy. Dependable.’
Alan Shepherd?’ said Hamish. ‘Sounds like a driving instructor.’
‘I wouldn’t have minded being called Alan,’ said Alice, ‘And . . . hang on, what’s this got to do with anything?’
Alex smiled.
‘When someone is born in our world – their opposite is born elsewhere.’
Hamish and Alice looked confused.
‘What?’
When you are born in our world, the perso
n you nearly were is born in another world!’
‘So . . . wait,’ said Alice. ‘You’re telling me that’s who the Neverpeople are? Our opposites?’
‘Yes,’ said Alex. ‘Let’s say there’s a girl called Jo. That means that in the other world a boy called Joe would be born.’
‘What?!’ said Alice.
‘They’d have a lot in common, obviously,’ said Alex. ‘But also quite a lot different; they’re like you, but they’re not like you.’
‘I think you’ve gone mad,’ said Hamish.
‘For every he, there’s a she! For every Adam and Eve, there’s a Madam and Steve!’
Alex looked very pleased with herself for that one.
The carriage suddenly lit up with a blinding light as they reached the end of The Gap. Hamish covered his eyes.
‘We’re arriving,’ said Alex, as the brakes went down and sparks flew once more.
‘Come on,’ she said, as the doors beeped open. ‘Welcome to Otherearth.’
British. Ish.
Hamish and Alice skipped up the steps of London Central Station with no idea of what they’d see next.
‘Are you ready?’ asked Alex, as they reached the door at the top, which had big brass shutters she was already unlocking.
Hamish could hear London on the other side. His tummy flipped slightly. Alice reached out and squeezed his hand.
Then up the shutters went and all was revealed.
London, in the sunshine, full of colour and noise.
They stepped out and looked around.
A huge sign read:
It was busy. Men and women were bustling down the streets, going about their business.
It looked like normal London to Hamish. How did he know Alex was telling the truth about all this?
And yet there was something a bit different about it.
‘Hello!’ said a man with a tiny suitcase under one arm, hurrying by, and patting Hamish’s head as he did so.
‘Good afternoon!’ said a lady with a tuba, nodding her head and tipping her hat and beaming at them.
Hamish noticed that the word ‘WELCOME’ on the sign had been underlined six times in felt tip – like the passers-by who’d done it really meant it.
This was a very friendly London indeed.
‘All these people,’ Hamish said, pointing at men patting other men on the back, and women smiling happily at one another. ‘Do they know? Do they know they’re Neverpeople? The people we nearly were?’
Alex hailed a cab. It was luminous yellow.
Hamish suddenly noticed that all the taxis were brightly coloured.
Very brightly coloured.
Why weren’t they all black, like at home?
‘When Henrietta Ford sold her first car,’ said Alex, ‘she said you can have any colour you like, so long as it isn’t black!’
‘Henrietta Ford!’ said Hamish, delighted. Wait until Mr Slackjaw heard about this!
‘Jump in, love,’ said the taxi driver, adjusting her mirror. ‘Where to?’
‘A tour of the city, please, driver,’ said Alex.
Hamish and Alice stared out of the window. What they saw amazed them.
Happy people poured out of department stores like Jane Lewis, or shops like Master Selfridge. Others stood patiently in queues in Burger Queen, or next to vans selling Mrs Whippy ice creams.
At Trafalgar Square, huge stone lionesses sat smiling at the foot of Horatia Nelson’s column, celebrating her victory over Nancy Bonaparte at the Battle of Waterloo-seat-down-please.
Hamish spotted the London Eye in the distance – but was it revolving the opposite way now?
There was a statue of the famous nurse Fred Nightingale!
And over there – signs pointed towards Big Ben (except it was called Big Bertha now, named after a famous lady boxer from the 1800s) which was just round the corner from St Pauline’s Cathedral.
There was Victor Station. There was a big statue of King Victor himself, looking very stern and shampooing his enormous beard.
Now they were passing Buckingham Palace.
‘Look!’ said Alice.
Behind the huge ornate gates, dozens of tall women in bearskin hats and bright red coats stood guard.
‘Our most ferocious warriors,’ explained Alex. ‘Here to protect the King!’
‘The King?’ said Hamish and Alice in unison. They’d always grown up with a Queen!
‘Yes,’ said Alex. ‘King Les the Second. He is . . . an unusual character. A wonderfully . . . talkative man. He has his own . . . unique sense of fashion.’
Hamish and Alice got the sense she was trying to be polite.
‘This is all so cool,’ said Hamish, but Alice didn’t look quite as happy when they stopped at traffic lights. ‘What’s wrong, Alice?’
She had her arms folded and was staring up at a big poster of a portly man in his Y-fronts holding up some sun-tan lotion and smiling.
‘That’s Ken Moss,’ said Alex. ‘Supermodel.’
‘It all makes me uncomfortable,’ said Alice, shaking her head. ‘I mean, look over there.’
She pointed at another poster of Ken Moss, this time advertising washing-up liquid, still in his Y-fronts.
‘Why is it, in our world, it’s mainly women who seem to advertise washing-up liquid and stuff?’ she said. ‘How is that fair? My dad washes up at home. It sort of makes me angry. I think I prefer this world.’
That gave Hamish a thought.
‘Is it just London that’s like this, Alex?’ he said. ‘Or is it the whole planet?’
‘The whole planet,’ she said. ‘From the Statue of Libert-he to the very top of the Her-malayan mountains. From WoManchester to AmsterMadam and back again.’
Hamish considered this, as a line long of milk floats overtook them. Milk seemed far more popular in this world.
‘It’s nice to know there’s balance in the universe,’ he said, and, at this, Alex sat up straight.
‘But don’t you see – that’s exactly what the bad guys are trying to end!’
‘What do you mean?’ said Hamish.
‘Stop the cab!’ shouted Alex, as they passed the enormous, grand British Library. ‘We can walk from here . . .’
As they walked through the gates, Alex explained the problem.
You see, you might think you’re a whole person – yes, you! – but you are only half a person. Your opposite on Otherearth is your other half!
So if you’re a girl then somewhere there’s a boy version of you.
And if you’re a boy then somewhere there’s a girl.
So what would happen to you if something happened to your otherhalf?
You would be . . . unbalanced!
Fifty per cent of the person you were!
You would be . . . a halfwit!
You would go . . .
‘Blank!’ said Hamish. ‘That must be what happened to the Prime Minister! That’s why he started going on about his pants!’
‘Exactly!’ said Alex. ‘They zapped the Neverpeople’s PM, which meant that your PM went all weird. They got everyone in Downing Street because if they can stop the people in power, they can take over both our worlds!’
Hamish shuddered.
‘Who else are they after?’ asked Alice, in awe.
‘They started with the people we look up to,’ replied Alex. ‘The people we admire and respect!’
‘Yes – the politicians!’ said Alice.
‘What? No!’ said Alex. ‘The reality TV stars. The pop stars. The actors.’
‘Vapidia Sheen!’ said Hamish, thinking about her blank eyes on people’s big-screen TVs.
‘Precisely!’ said Alex. ‘Have you ever noticed how those people never seem to actually say anything? They open their mouths, but it’s all just nonsense? There are no ideas. No opinions. Just blather?’
‘Yes!’ said Hamish, remembering the two-hour episode of Life’s a Dream with Vapidia Sheen where she couldn’t get out of a revolving door.
&n
bsp; ‘It’s because someone got to their otherhalf!’ said Alex.
This was dreadful.
But who was out to get the Neverpeople?
And how were they doing it?
And how were Hamish and Alice supposed to stop them on their own?
All these questions flew through Hamish’s head as they reached a bench in front of the library.
On it sat a girl of Hamish’s age.
Even with her hoodie on, Hamish could see she had wild, messy black hair.
A bag like his.
And . . . was that a big white ‘H’ on her top?
She looked very familiar, but Hamish was certain they’d never met.
And then the girl looked up at him, with a very fierce frown indeed.
He could have fainted.
‘Hamish,’ said Alex, placing one hand on his shoulder. ‘Meet Holly Ellerby.’
NAME: HOLLY ELLIE ELLERBY
CODENAME: The Revenger.
HOMETOWN: Sparkley, Britain’s Fourth Most Exciting Town!
SPECIAL SKILLS: Fearlessness. Recklessness. Fearsomeness.
ALWAYS CARRIES: Finger of Fudge, her RevengePad and the watch her mum gave her.
SIGNATURE MOVE: Never EVER EVER forgetting if someone’s been rude to her!
FAVOURITE FOOD: The noodles at Wagapapa.
You + Me = Us
The first thing Hamish noticed about Holly Ellerby – aside from the fact that they were the same size, had the same eyes, the same hair colour, the same eyebrows, the same trainers and were, well, the same! – was that she wasn’t very friendly.
Hamish couldn’t understand that. He was delighted to meet her!
‘You’re my otherhalf!’ he said, beaming and amazed.
‘Hmm,’ she said, scratching her nose. ‘Yes, we’ll see.’
‘But you are!’ he said. ‘It’s ace! You’re the girl version of me!’
‘I am not a version of you!’ she said. ‘I am me!’
Truth was Holly Ellerby had been annoyed when she’d found out she was only half of something. She’d sworn straight away not to give this imposter even the time of day. But Alex had insisted they meet. She said Hamish would prove useful and that it was important they stuck together if they were to save the world.
Hamish and the Neverpeople Page 5
