Chapter 7 #

I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jumper and pad barefoot through my shop, where the last strands of sunlight are threading their way between the racks of gemstones and dried herbs. The man in the mask hasn't come back. I've simply put him out of my mind.

Lucky seems to have forgotten him too; she's rummaging around somewhere at the back of the shop, in among the storage jars. The moment evening falls, she comes to life. Just listen. A soft clink of glass against glass, followed by a satisfied mew. She's hunting mice.

Don't worry, she doesn't eat what she catches. I won't allow that. She only hunts them down, the little sadist. Later I'll have all sorts of things to clear up again, but I'll deal with that when it comes.

I hang the CLOSED sign in the window and draw the curtains. The last of the sunlight disappears behind the velvet. My working day is over. Make-up comes off, feet go up, a glass of liqueur is waiting on the reading table. Luna's working day, on the other hand, is only just about to begin.

I sit down at my reading table and take a sip of the newest batch. Hmm. A touch sweeter than the last, with a faint undertone of… is that star spice? That's not supposed to be in there at all. Granny Sybil would raise an eyebrow. I take another sip. All right, it's no disaster, but I'm not putting it on the label. Beside me my notebook lies open, the pen scratching softly across the paper, spinning my thoughts into words on the page.

My hopes for a light-hearted, romantic story are starting to fade. That case, that strange rainwater and the news reports… none of it belongs in a feel-good rom-com. Something bigger is going on. Something ominous. And I don't yet know exactly what, but I feel it the way you feel a thunderstorm coming: through the heavy stillness that precedes it.

Anyway, let's begin. I clasp my selenite palm stone in my hand and close my eyes. "Gift of my blood, sharpen my sight; reach through the dark and bring the unseen to light."

The words feel like a key turning in a lock. Always the same verse, always the same effect. Then come the images and sounds. They roll in like a wave, blurred and disjointed at first, then sharper and clearer by the moment.

A familiar place. The bus stop by Luna's block of flats. The clouds hang low and thick above the rooftops. The rain has stopped, but nothing about this morning feels any lighter for it. There's a thin sheet of water lying in the street, right up to the kerb.

And it's quiet. Not the morning hush of a city slowly waking, but a quiet that stands out because something is missing: no fluttering in the bushes, no chirping from the gutters. Not a single bird is singing.

Luna doesn't notice, she’s caught up in her own thoughts. She's glad that, after some hesitation, she pulled on her rubber boots after all, even though she finds them ugly and uncomfortable. Her raincoat is stuffed into her backpack. There were dried salt crystals on it after she hung it up to dry yesterday. White, grainy specks.

There they sit, Luna and Will, on the bench by the bus stop. No case in sight. Good. Luna had been surprisingly firm about it: the case was not coming along to Wonderworld. And she's right. What business does a dubious thing like that have in a children’s fairy-tale park?

She woke that morning with the feeling that she'd dreamed the whole thing. The strange man with his mysterious case and his even stranger questions. Too bizarre to be true. But when she left her block of flats, Will was already there waiting at the entrance. In the morning light, wearing a thin linen shirt instead of that leather jacket.

Now he's sitting beside her, his leg jiggling as if he can't keep still, his gaze fixed on the empty street where the bus could appear at any moment.

"Are you nervous?" she asks.

Will turns his head towards her. "Nervous? No. Impatient, maybe."

A pause. Luna fiddles with the end of her colourful, homemade bracelet.

"So what is it you actually do in Wonderworld? Is it your job?" Will asks.

"Oh." Luna lets go of the thread. "Er, I have to keep the park tidy," she says. "People drop their litter everywhere and someone has to clean it up." She jerks a thumb at herself. "Me, that is."

"Ever seen anything unusual?"

Luna frowns. "What do you mean, unusual?"

"Well, you know…" Will leans back on the bench, but his eyes stay on her. "Something that shouldn't be possible?"

Luna gives a short laugh. "Wonderworld is full of impossible things, that's the whole point." She shakes her head, her braid swishing a little. "But it's all fake, obviously. So no, nothing unusual for a theme park."

Will says nothing. He looks straight ahead, his face unreadable. Luna steals a sideways look at him. His black hair, the line of his jaw, the light stubble on his cheeks. Her gaze lingers a moment too long.

Then he turns his head towards her. His eyes catch hers, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Luna's cheeks grow warm. She looks away quickly, before she gives him the wrong idea.

The silence hangs between them until Luna points at the street. "There's our bus."

In the distance the city bus approaches: big, blue, ordinary. They get up from the bench. Luna picks up her backpack and slings it over her shoulder. Will looks at the bus as if it were a spaceship. "Bigger than I thought…" he mutters, so softly she barely catches it.

The bus squeals to a halt. Water sluices over the kerb and washes around Luna's rubber boots. The doors hiss open and Luna steps forward.

She scans her travel card. BEEP. Will follows her and digs into his pocket. He pulls out a fistful of coins in all sorts of currencies, as if he's been travelling the world and kept a bit of loose change from every stop.

He holds out his open hand to the driver, a middle-aged woman with a deep frown. Clearly not a morning person.

"Good morning!" Will says, far too brightly. "Is this enough for a ticket?"

The driver heaves a deep sigh. She fishes the euros out of Will's coin collection and hands him a day pass.

"Thanks." Will holds the ticket up and examines it as if it were an archaeological find. "What do I do with this?"

Luna points at the scanner beside the door. "Check in. Here."

Will holds the ticket against it. BEEP.

"Ha!" Will grins broadly. "Fascinating!"

"Sorry about him…" Luna mumbles to the driver.

The bus driver looks at her with tired eyes. "I've seen it all, dear."

The bus pulls away with a jolt. Luna and Will lurch down the aisle and grab at the rails to keep their balance. They find seats halfway along. Will takes the one by the window. The moment he sits down, he presses his face against the glass. His eyes follow every car, every pedestrian, every lamp post.

Then he leans over towards Luna and points at the red buttons dotted along the poles throughout the bus.

"Luna," he whispers. His light-brown eyes are wide with curiosity. "What are those red buttons for?"

Luna whispers back, a mischievous smile on her face. "For the confetti and trumpets."

Will's eyebrows shoot up. "Brilliant!" He sounds genuinely thrilled, and he's already reaching out his arm. Then he stops and thinks for a second. "You're joking, aren't you?"

Luna smiles. "It's to let the driver know you want to get off."

"Yeah, that makes more sense."

Will lowers his arm and looks out of the window again, staring at the world sliding past.

I don't know what he's thinking; I'm not an omniscient narrator. I'm not allowed to read his thoughts, even if I could. Narrator's Law number three: One soul is entrusted to you. Never enter the mind of anyone but your protagonist. But what I can pick up is what Luna thinks about Will. And stars and moons, what a theory she's dreamed up!

The case. His odd questions. The way he looks at a bus as if he's never seen one before. She feels almost proud of herself for working it out. Will isn't a burglar. Not a man with the mind of a child. He's a time traveller from the future.

And not just any future, oh no, Luna's imagination doesn't do things by halves. Will comes from a world where everything is already lost. She's seen the news reports, the footage of flooded villages and ruined crops. The salty rain. And that's only the beginning. Will comes from a world beyond saving, unless you go back. Because that is why he's here, in Luna's imagination. He's come back, to this moment, to prevent it, to save Earth before it's too late. And she — Luna Young, seasonal cleaning worker at Wonderworld — happened to find him. And he's her little secret.

By the stars. I have to admit, it's a good story. If only I had the same optimism.

Thanks for reading! #

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