Part 21 (1/2)

'What's going on, Tess?' she said, sitting down in the chair and leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. The tone of concern in her voice almost disarmed Tess, but she recovered her guard just in time.

'Nothing's going on,' she said. 'Absolutely nothing.'

'Then why were you so unpleasant to your father?'

Tess sighed in exasperation, as though she was talking to an idiot. 'I wasn't rude to my father as a matter of fact,' she said. 'For the first time in my life I was honest with my father. It's the same every evening. He comes home from work and he says, ”How was school, Tess?” ”Did anything interesting happen in school today?” ”Anything happening at school these days?”'

'But what's wrong with that?' said her mother.

'What's wrong with that is that he couldn't care less what's happening at school. If I told him the place burnt down and I carried the piano out on my back he'd just say, ”That's good. What's for dinner?”'

'Oh, Tess. That's not fair.'

'It is fair. The truth is always fair.'

'And how do you come to be such an expert on the truth?' Her mother stood up and moved over to draw the curtains as she spoke.

'Leave them,' said Tess.

'I was just going to close them, that's all. Keep the heat in.'

'I like them open. Leave them.'

Tess's mother walked back to the chair, but she didn't sit down. 'Now, you listen to me, Tess,' she began.

'I'm listening.'

'There's a possibility that you might be right about your father ...'

'I am.'

'... Some of the time, that is. But as it happens, you were wrong today.'

'Oh?'

'Oh. Yes, oh. Your father has arranged to take the day off work tomorrow. He was about to ask you if it would be all right for you to take the day off school.'

Tess's eyes widened and she looked at her mother for the first time as she went on, 'He was planning for us all to get up at crack of dawn and go over to the zoo.'

'The zoo?'

'Yes. The zoo. There's going to be an awful crowd there tomorrow.' She paused, looking into Tess's blank face. 'Have you forgotten?'

'Forgotten what?'

'They're going to let the public in to see that bird they caught the other night.'

Tess sat up on the edge of the bed and stared into the middle distance. How could it have happened? How could she possibly have forgotten the phoenix? Not just for a few moments, but absolutely. She was quite certain that if her mother hadn't reminded her she would never have remembered it again. For the first time since she had a.s.sumed the vampire form, the horror of what she had done became clear to her. A desperate confusion flooded her mind as the phoenix memories returned and began to edge out the cold vampire complacency.

Her mother waited for a few moments, then said, 'Now. I've spoken to your father and he's still willing to go if you promise to think about your behaviour this evening. He doesn't want an apology: just a nice day out tomorrow and a bit more consideration in future. What do you say?'

Tess looked up, her face quite changed now. She nodded. 'I have to go,' she said.

'You don't have to,' said her mother, 'but it'd be a shame to miss the opportunity.'

Tess shook her head. 'I have to go,' she said again. Her mother put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze, then crossed the room towards the door. Tess found her shoes and began to put them on.

'And I will apologise,' she said.

As Tess watched TV with her parents that evening she had no awareness of what was going on beneath her. The city's rats, with Algernon somewhere among them, were digging, scratching, burrowing away, radiating outwards like the spokes of a wheel, still following their master's orders.

Most of the city underground had already been covered, since it had been dug up for foundations, and for sewerage, gas and electric systems. But directly beneath Tess's house, the rats were moving, breaking new ground as they pushed outwards into the unknown territory which lay beneath the park.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

BEFORE SEVEN O'CLOCK THE following morning, Tess and her parents were standing outside the Dublin Zoo. Despite the early hour and the hard frost which had coated every leaf and blade of gra.s.s with silvery rime, there was already quite a queue of people there before them. The first ones in the line were wrapped in sleeping bags and blankets, and one or two gas stoves burned with yellow-blue flames beneath the street lights, brewing tea for cold campers.

Tess joined the line, pulling her pony tail out of the collar of her jacket and tightening the draw cords at her throat. Her father gave the pony tail an affectionate tug in an effort to break through the awkwardness which still lay between them. She gave him the best smile she could manage, but it wasn't great. Apart from anything else, Tess was desperately tired. She hadn't Switched at all the previous night; in her confusion she had decided to sleep on the problem in the hope that things would make more sense in the morning. But in the end she had found it impossible to sleep at all, and had spent the entire night in a terrible conflict with herself; swinging between her love for the phoenix and its ethereal existence and her desire for the bittersweet pleasures of the vampire. When her mother had come to call her at six-thirty, she had felt an enormous sense of relief, but it hadn't lasted long. Already the vampire side of her mind had begun to eat into her resolve to visit the phoenix. What was the point, after all? Why should she stand for hours in the freezing cold just for the sake of getting a glimpse of a namby-pamby bird that she had already seen?

The lights came on in the zoo, but there was still no sign of any activity at the gates. Tess shuddered as the frost bit deep into her tired bones. In an effort to close the contradictory voices out of her mind, she began to look around at the crowd. There were all kinds of people there, from new age 'crusties' with long-haired children to pin-striped businessmen who blew on their hands and stamped their polished brogues against the cold tarmac. The majority, though, seemed to be the type of people that Tess imagined would shoot birds rather than watch them; they wore waxed jackets or faded green anoraks with jeans and walking boots or green Wellingtons. The most noticeable thing about them was that they didn't seem to feel the cold as much as everyone else, but stood around in small groups chatting to each other as though they were quite accustomed to being out in the frost before dawn.

Tess examined the lines of parked cars and tried to match the people to their transport. There were a couple of brightly-coloured vans, a dormobile with dim lights on inside, several saloon cars with recent registration plates, a Morris Minor and four Land Rovers. As Tess watched, another one arrived, its diesel engine growling sweetly as it slowed and pulled into a s.p.a.ce at the head of the line.

'I suppose it's too early to start on the breakfast?' said Tess's father.

'Of course it is,' said her mother. 'We've got three hours to wait before the gates open.'

'What do you think, Tess?' said her father, with a conspiratorial nudge of his elbow.

'I don't mind,' she said. She was still watching the Land Rover, expecting it to be loaded to the gills with Labrador dogs and men in deer-stalker hats.

'Just a cup of coffee?' said her father, in a wheedling voice.

The back door of the Land Rover opened and a huddle of children spilled out, stretching and yawning, their breath rising in misty clouds around them. The driver's door slammed and a man in a cloth cap walked around the bonnet, then went back to his own side to turn out the headlights.

Tess's mother conceded. 'All right. Just a small cup, though.'

The pa.s.senger door opened and swung back and forth on its hinges as a small figure manoeuvred around with considerable difficulty, until she was sitting sideways on the seat. The man in the cloth cap hurried round to help, and a moment later the elderly woman descended, stiffly but safely, on to the road.

Tess recognised her immediately. It was Lizzie, the eccentric old woman who had once been a Switcher herself, and had sent Tess and Kevin to the Arctic to do battle with the krools. Without thinking, Tess raced away from her parents and across the road, narrowly avoiding a minibus that was crawling along, looking for a s.p.a.ce to park. Lizzie dropped her walking stick in surprise as Tess appeared at her side and flung her arms around her.

'Careful, girl! Careful of my old bones!' Lizzie suffered Tess's embrace for a moment or two, then extricated herself. 'This cold has me rusted up so I can hardly move!'

Tess stepped back and beamed at her friend. 'I never dreamt that you'd come,' she said. 'How did you know?'

'How did I know what?'