Watchers

by Philip Caveney

  ‘Looks like some of your pals are back,’ he said.

  Will turned to look. A couple of motorbikes were following the bus, and this time they were making no attempt to overtake it. Lou was wearing his mirrored shades and he was staring up at the back window with the merest trace of a smile on his bearded face. Beside him rode another man, stick thin and clean-shaven with a shock of long, pure white hair trailing in the wind behind him. Unlike his companion, he wasn’t wearing shades, and Will saw with a dull sense of shock that the man had the distinctive red eyes of an albino.

  The two riders continued to follow the bus all the way to school.

  TWENTY

  It took some time for the four of them to get off the bus and when they finally did, Will was disconcerted to see Lou and his companion waiting by the school gates. They were staring openly at the column of kids passing by them, quite obviously intending to intimidate them.

  Will hung back and moved a little closer to Sophie, meaning to protect her if anything happened, but her smile suggested that she had misinterpreted the move.

  ‘You’re a fast worker,’ she observed and he felt yet another blush rising to his cheeks.

  ‘Oh . . . I . . . didn’t mean anything,’ he said. ‘I just don’t like the look of those two up ahead.’

  Sophie studied them for a moment. ‘They’re obviously no angels,’ she said.

  Will almost laughed in disbelief. If only she knew.

  ‘They look like trouble,’ said Terry, who was probably remembering that he’d flicked a V at them a couple of days earlier. ‘Maybe we should go round the back way.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Asha, ‘we’ll just pretend they’re not there.’

  But that was easier said than done. As Terry and Asha approached the gates Lou and his friend studied the two of them with some amusement.

  ‘What’s the matter, kid?’ asked the albino. ‘Can’t get yourself a nice white girl?’ Up close, he had a face that resembled a skull, the pale skin stretched tight over his bones. He grinned, displaying two rows of misshapen yellow teeth.

  Terry stared at him in shock. ‘What did you say?’ he gasped.

  ‘I think you heard,’ said Lou in that horrible, whispering voice. ‘My friend Az here is wondering why you’ve developed such a taste for brown sugar. Like slumming it with Pakis, do you?’

  ‘Get stuffed, you racist!’ snapped Asha. She strode through the gates, dragging a visibly shocked Terry after her. Lou and Az sniggered unpleasantly then turned their attention to Will and Sophie.

  ‘Well, hello, Willy,’ said Lou, removing his shades to allow the full power of those tar-drop eyes to burn into Will. ‘So nice to see you again.’

  Sophie looked at Will in surprise. ‘You know this creep?’

  ‘Unfortunately, yes,’ said Will. ‘Just ignore him.’ He made an attempt to walk on by, but Lou stopped him with a leather-gloved hand thrust against his chest. Kids coming in from behind swerved around them and hurried on inside the gates.

  ‘That’s unkind, Will, very unkind. You trying to upset poor old Uncle Lou?’

  ‘He’s your uncle?’ gasped Sophie.

  ‘Is he hell! He’s nothing to do with me.’ Again Will tried to push past Lou, but the gloved hand held him in place.

  ‘What’s your hurry? Aren’t you going to introduce us to your little friend?’

  ‘You were right, Lou,’ said Az, calmly. ‘She is a looker. Much too nice for you, kid.’ He reached out a hand and placed it on Sophie’s shoulder. Will could see that the nails of the hand were long and discoloured. ‘Like to go for a ride on my bike?’ he asked her.

  ‘Get lost,’ Sophie told him.

  ‘Now that’s not polite,’ said Az. ‘What do you say, Lou? Think she needs to learn some manners?’ His hand slid higher up Sophie’s shoulder and rested on her neck. Will glared at the albino. If anything, he seemed even more threatening than Lou. The red eyes held no hint of mercy in them and his face was completely devoid of expression. Will glanced quickly around but there was nobody behind them now and the kids on the other side of the gate seemed to be mesmerised.

  ‘Take your hands off her!’ he snapped, pushing Az’s arm away.

  Az turned his gaze back to Will. The edges of his lips curved upwards slightly but in no way could it be described as a smile.

  ‘Or what?’ he said. ‘You going to fight me, little man? Huh? You think you’ve got the bottle?’

  ‘Oh, you’re dead brave, aren’t you?’ observed Will. ‘Picking a fight with a thirteen-year-old. Are all your gang as tough as you?’

  Az and Lou glanced at each other for a moment and laughed out loud.

  ‘Oh, now we really feel bad, don’t we Az?’ said Lou.

  ‘Yeah, absolutely terrible.’ Az let go of Sophie and moved closer to Will. Will noted that he had the same unpleasant sulphur smell as his leader. ‘You seem to have misjudged exactly who you’re dealing with, boy. You were warned to leave off and you chose to ignore that warning. So now you have to pay.’

  He lifted a hand and pointed a nicotine-stained index finger at Sophie. ‘What do you think, Lou? Should we take her with us . . . or should we just hurt her now?’

  ‘Neither,’ said a voice; and a small figure in a heavy overcoat stepped in between Will and Az. ‘You can just piss off, the pair of you.’

  Will saw, with a sense of dismay, that it was Amy. Of all the Watchers who might have been assigned to this post, she seemed an unfortunate choice. She was a good head and shoulders shorter than the two men and she had to tilt her head back to look them in the eyes.

  ‘Oh, look who they’ve sent,’ sniggered Az. ‘Little Amy. Always my favourite of that bunch of stinking do-gooders. Great for casting enchantments but not what you’d call a bruiser.’

  Amy didn’t flinch. She was gazing coolly up at the two men and Will saw that her little hands were bunched into fists.

  ‘I’ve told you once,’ she said. ‘I won’t tell you again. Get out of here.’

  Az leaned forward and pushed his ugly face up close to hers. ‘What you gonna use, girl?’ he asked her. ‘Harsh language?’

  ‘But it’s not just me,’ Amy told him quietly. ‘It’s all of us.’ And she punched him, full in the face.

  Az jerked backwards like he’d been yanked by an invisible wire. He lost his footing and went down flat on his back on the pavement with a grunt of exhaled air, landing so heavily that he cracked a paving slab. Lou didn’t waste any time. Amy was still following through the punch when he twisted around and hit her hard in the ribs. She gave a gasp of surprise and dropped to her knees. Then Lou grabbed a hank of dyed hair and clamped his other hand tight around her throat.

  ‘You interfering little bitch,’ he hissed. ‘Nobody touches any of my crew and gets away with it.’

  And he began to exert a terrible pressure on her throat. Her eyes widened in shock.

  One moment Will was standing there watching the scene helplessly, the next he felt a sudden rush of energy welling inside his chest; a rush that seemed to swell within him like a molten tidal wave and surge to every part of his body. Quite suddenly, he felt powerful, decisive and invincible. The Watchers, he realised, had transferred their combined powers to him.

  He stepped forward and punched Lou hard in the kidneys. Lou gave a bellow of surprise and twisted around to face his assailant. Will hit him again; in the face this time, putting all his strength into the blow. He was only dimly aware of Lou’s nose flattening under the impact of his knuckles. Lou went flailing backwards and Will felt himself compelled to keep up the attack. He followed, punched him again in the face, once, twice, three times and then, much to his own amazement, he leapt forward through the air and directed a kick into Lou’s gut. Lou lurched backwards with a grunt, tripped over Az and fell down on top of him.

  A rowdy cheer went up and Will looked up in surprise, to see that the large crowd of kids clustered around the gate were watching the scene in amazement. He spotted Terry’s aston
ished face amongst them and yelled out to him.

  ‘Help me!’ he yelled.

  He’d only meant to include Terry, but as one, the entire crowd of onlookers burst out of the gates and laid into the two stricken Watchers. Will saw Lou’s blood-splashed face register a mixture of pain and surprise as dozens of kids started kicking him in a variety of tender places. He and Az staggered to their feet and, completely humiliated, were obliged to run for their bikes, with a yelling crowd of vengeful school kids in hot pursuit. They managed to leap aboard and ride away, but the crowd followed them for some distance along the street, waving their arms and chanting insults.

  Will turned back and helped Amy to her feet, aware that the tips of her wings were showing below the hem of her coat. He helped her smooth it down and glanced quickly around; in all the excitement no-one else seemed to have noticed.

  ‘You all right?’ he asked her.

  She nodded, smiled. ‘Thanks to you,’ she said. ‘Lou caught me off-guard. You were incredible.’

  ‘I think I had some help,’ he told her. Even as he spoke he could feel the strength in him waning, dissolving. If only he could feel like that all the time, he thought. He could take on the world single-handed and win.

  Sophie had followed the crowd up the road a little. Now she was wandering back, looking with interest at Amy.

  Will said, loudly, ‘Thanks very much, miss! It was good of you to step in like that.’ He shook Amy’s hand, and then wished he hadn’t because the dreamy, melty feeling it caused in him made him feel all hot and bothered. He let go of her hand quickly.

  ‘That’s all right,’ said Amy, giving him that weird smile. ‘Just doing my duty as a citizen. Thugs like that ought to be arrested.’ She smiled at Sophie. ‘Well, better get on with my shopping!’ And she walked quickly away. Sophie stared after her.

  ‘What a funny-looking woman,’ she said.

  ‘Brave, though,’ said Terry, wandering back from the skirmish. ‘Did you see the way she thumped that greaser?’ He grinned at Asha. ‘I got him a really good kick up the backside before he got away.’

  Asha sighed and put her arms around him. ‘My hero!’ she said.

  ‘I think we all know who the real hero was,’ said Sophie, looking at Will. ‘The UK’s answer to Jackie Chan here.’

  Will shrugged. ‘Oh, it was nothing. I was just mad, that’s all. And besides, he was hurting Amy.’

  ‘Amy?’ Sophie looked puzzled. ‘That woman? How come you know her name?’

  Will tried not to show dismay. His brain went into overdrive as he searched for a possible explanation.

  ‘She er . . . she had a badge on. With her name on it. Didn’t you see it?’

  His three friends shook their heads.

  ‘I saw a lot of medals and stuff . . .’ said Sophie.

  ‘Yeah, well one of them had ‘Amy’ written on it.

  ‘Maybe it was just the name of her badge,’ suggested Terry and they all laughed.

  Sophie glanced at her watch. ‘Christ on a bike!’ she said, ‘Look at the time!’ The realisation spread like wildfire. Suddenly everyone was racing in through the school gates and heading off to their respective lockers. But before they parted, Sophie leaned in and planted a discreet peck on Will’s cheek. ‘Thanks for looking after me,’ she said and hurried off down the corridor.

  Will walked away feeling about ten feet tall. As he went, he pulled the soul-meter from his pocket and checked the reading. A couple more clicks in the right direction, he observed. At this rate, his dad would be sorted in no time at all.

  In assembly, Mr Reece had a few choice words to say on the subject of that morning’s incident. He stood at the lectern, his wrinkled face grim.

  ‘It has come to my attention,’ he said, in his ancient, creaky voice, ‘that members of this school were involved in a fracas outside the gates this morning.’ He gazed sternly around at the pupils, as though committing all their faces to memory. ‘I do not know the full details as yet, but I understand that people from outside the school initiated the fight and that it was then aggravated by various people sitting here before me.’

  He paused to take a breath and fixed the assembled ranks with a stony stare. ‘I wish to make it clear that I shall not tolerate this kind of loutish behaviour and if I should hear of any further incidents, those involved will be found and expelled from the school, no matter what excuse they may offer. Do I make myself clear?’

  His question seemed to echo in the silence and nobody saw fit to provide him with an answer.

  ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘We shall now sing, Fight The Good Fight.’

  Terry had to stifle a snort of laughter by disguising it as a coughing fit. Clearly, the irony of the title had escaped Reece’s attention and he must have wondered why so many pupils felt it necessary to hide their faces behind their hymnbooks as they sang. Will and Terry came close to losing it completely and it was a relief when the music stopped and they were able to file out of the gym to their first lesson of the day.

  TWENTY ONE

  The chilly days of October passed quickly and everything seemed to be going suspiciously well. There was no further sign of Lou or Az and Will wondered if the humiliation at the school had prompted them to abandon their plans and move on.

  He seriously doubted it. From the little he knew about Lou, he imagined that he would be planning his revenge. But even though Will’s round-the-clock angelic minders continued to do their duty, no further attack materialised.

  Jake came out of hospital a few days after his accident and apart from a nasty scar at the back of his head, seemed to have suffered no lasting effects. He and Mum went back to drawing up their plans for Neston Hall, but now they made sure that they always wore hard-hats whenever they visited.

  Then one day, Will got home from school to find Mum and Jake waiting for him, the two of them looking decidedly apprehensive.

  Mum broke the news to him. ‘Will,’ she said. ‘Jake and I have come to a decision.’

  Will nodded. ‘You’re getting married,’ he said. ‘Congratulations.’

  Mum looked disappointed. ‘You could at least have pretended to be surprised,’ she said. She looked at him searchingly. ‘Well, what do you think?’

  He laughed. ‘It’s not up to me,’ he said. ‘If that’s what you want, I’m very happy for you.’ He looked at Jake. ‘Both of you,’ he added. ‘You know, Mum, you’re just not the kind of woman who can live your life alone.’

  Mum and Jake exchanged surprised looks.

  ‘That’s a remarkably mature attitude in one so young,’ observed Jake. He smiled at Will. ‘Thanks for making it so easy.’ He glanced at Mum and held her hand. ‘We were thinking of marrying in November; just a quiet registry office wedding, and then I’d like very much for the three of us to live at the Hall.’

  Will stared.

  ‘The Hall?’ he said. ‘What, Neston Hall?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jake.

  Will didn’t know what to say to that. For some reason, the thought of living there had never occurred to him. ‘But that means . . . that means we’ll be rich, doesn’t it?’

  Jake smiled. ‘Yes. Have you got a problem with that?’

  ‘I suppose not. It just seems a bit weird, that’s all.’

  Will turned and went to the study. He couldn’t wait to tell Sophie about this. ‘Just got a bit of homework to do,’ he said.

  He sat down in front of the computer and reflected on the changes that had happened in his life in just a few short weeks. Incredible. He knew that he would always have mixed feelings about Mum getting married again – but a quick check on Dad’s soul-meter assured him that everything was as it should be, and to see Mum truly happy after so long in the doldrums made everything worthwhile.

  Since it was a time for change, Will decided to make a few of his own. He opened up Instant Messenger, but instead of contacting Sophie, he typed Ari in the box instead.

  Back came the reply.

  YOU CALLED?


  I’VE BEEN THINKING, he thought, and the words appeared on the screen.

  I WANT YOU TO STOP HELPING ME WITH MY SCHOOL PROJECTS.

  WHAT? NO HELP AT ALL?

  WELL, MAYBE A BIT. YOU CAN LEAVE THE COMPUTER SO IT KEYS IN WHAT I’M

  THINKING, THAT’S REALLY HANDY. BUT

  FROM NOW ON, I WANT THEM TO BE MY

  THOUGHTS.

  ARE YOU SURE? YOUR DAD’S GETTING

  CLOSE TO SALVATION NOW, WE DON’T

  WANT TO MUCK THINGS UP, DO WE?

  WE WON’T MUCK THINGS UP, I JUST THINK

  IT’S TIME I STARTED EARNING MY OWN

  MARKS, INSTEAD OF COASTING ALONG

  WHILE SOMEBODY ELSE DOES ALL THE

  WORK. AND IN THE END, THAT’S WHAT WILL

  REALLY MAKE ME HAPPY.

  YOU’RE THE BOSS. WHAT ABOUT THE

  FOOTBALL MATCHES?

  Will thought long and hard before replying.

  YOU’D BETTER CARRY ON HELPING ME

  WITH THAT. THE OTHER GUYS ON THE

  TEAM WANT TO WIN THE INTER-SCHOOL

  CUP AND I’LL ALWAYS BE USELESS AT

  FOOTBALL. BUT DON’T GO BARMY. JUST

  LET US WIN BY A GOAL OR SO, OK?

  OK. BUT IF YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO THE

  WAY IT WAS, LET ME KNOW.

  As a result, Will’s marks dipped considerably. Despite this, he stuck to his guns and found that he was quite capable of getting reasonable marks under his own steam. He’d never be top of the class, but he didn’t care about that. Feeling on top of the world was far more important to him.

  As for the football, Mr Varney must have wondered how Will’s almost supernatural abilities had been so short-lived. He continued to play well enough and the team kept winning, sometimes by the narrowest of margins. But the days of spectacular goal scoring were well and truly gone. Shaun, who had made a miraculous recovery from his mystery injury, returned to the team and Will happily relinquished the captaincy and the position of centre-forward back to him. Will played on the left wing and he and Shaun proved to be a useful partnership.