laughing and waggling their giant back feet to show off their purple trainers. These images were soon replaced by a hazy figure, wearing a hooded robe, calling to him across an expanse of field. Seb lifted his hand to wave and as the silvery lines were exposed to the light from a full moon it bounced off them and a door appeared in front of him. A silver orb-shaped doorknob began to twinkle and Seb reached a hand towards it. As his fingers closed around the sphere he gasped – his hand was a tiny paw with silvery grey fur. His eyes ran up his arm; it was also covered in silvery fur. Looking back to the curved surface of the doorknob he saw his own reflection, the reflection of a huge grey squirrel! He screamed … and woke with a start.
He sat up, breathing heavily in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. His brother snored softly in the bed below him. Bright moonlight shone in through the window onto the glimmering lines on his hand which bounced it around the room. He closed his fingers.
A figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the landing light, made him jump. His pulse, already thumping, began pounding until he recognised the sleek hair, the slim frame, the height.
“Scarlet, what are you doing?” he whispered.
“What are you doing more like? I heard you scream. I’m amazed Mum hasn’t come up,” she whispered back. The sound of the TV downstairs explained why. She came over and clambered up onto the bed. Seb’s palm was tingling.
“Was it a bad dream?”
“Yes, I’d turned into a giant squirrel.”
Scarlet began chuckling and now Seb laughed too.
“Did you find a boy to pee on?” she asked.
He shoved her. “If I was a giant squirrel the first person I would pee on would be you!”
“Charming!”
“What time is it?” He looked out of the window for some hint as to the hour. The sky was inky blue except for the halo of light around the half-moon.
“Hold on.” There was a bright flash of light as Scarlet swiped her finger across her mobile phone. She squinted at the screen. “Ten past eleven.”
“Do you even sleep with that thing?” Seb said.
Scarlet was inseparable from her mobile and since starting at the new school had added at least twenty new contacts to it – contacts she texted non-stop.
She shrugged and smiled, then, lifting the phone towards him said, “I have to get a picture of that bed-head, Seb Thomas!”
As she went to press the screen, Seb made a grab for the phone. He managed to get hold of her hand but she pulled sideways, dragging him over to the right. He toppled and instinctively raised his left arm to regain his balance but as he did the moonlight caught on the silvery threads of his palm and shone a beam full into Scarlet’s eyes.
“Ow, that’s bright!” she groaned.
Seb put his hand down and the beam was extinguished. Scarlet rubbed her eyes. Shimmering tears slid down her cheeks.
“You okay?” Seb asked her.
She was still rubbing. “Ow, really ow! That was blinding, Seb. My eyes are stinging now.” She blinked at him, opening her eyes wide.
“Scarlet!” Seb grabbed her hands. “Your eyes …”
“What?” Concerned by the shock in his voice she frowned at him.
He started stammering, “Your eyes are silver. Well, your pupils look silver … I mean … the rest … the brown, it’s still there but your pupils are silver!”
Scarlet didn’t move; she was facing her own revelation. As she looked past Seb she began whispering frantically, “Seb, the books – I can see them!”
He was lost. “Scarlet, of course you can, it’s quite bright in here … the moon— ”
“No, I can see them clearly – I can read the words on the spines.” She looked around the room. “The little Warhammer figures …” she pointed to the small glass cabinet in the corner where Seb had displayed the Dark Elf collection of figures he had lovingly made over the last year, “I can see every detail!” She looked back at Seb. “Your painting is rubbish by the way.”
Seb looked over his shoulder at the tiny figures. From where he sat they were small dots of plastic and could have been anything. Scarlet was wide-eyed. “It’s like everything is becoming clearer, in fact it’s like I can see everything, really see it.” Becoming more animated she darted a glance down to where The Taz lay sprawled. “Seb, I can see every strand of The Taz’s hair. I can see his eyelashes. I can see the tiny hairs on his pudgy cheeks. I can see every stitch in the fabric of his pyjamas— ”
“Scarlet,” Seb grabbed her arm to calm her, “you need to look at your eyes.” He physically placed a hand on top of her head and turned it towards the mirrored doors in the bank of wardrobes along the opposite wall. Scarlet gasped and then scrabbled down the bunk ladder and trotted to the mirror.
She gasped again, “Seb, they’re silver!”
“I know, I told you. Actually they’re amazing!”
Scarlet turned her head this way and that, checking her eyes at different angles. As she turned out of the moonlight the silver disappeared and her pupils looked normal but for the slightest shimmer.
“Did you see that? It’s only when the moonlight catches them.” She checked herself, uncertain. “Isn’t that the same with everyone?” She sounded a bit disappointed but also relieved. Now she beckoned urgently for Seb to join her and made him face his eyes into the moonlight. All that happened was his pupils closed up, shrinking to pinpoints and the coloured area of his iris grew and reflected the moonlight on their shiny surface.
“Well? Are they silver?”
There was silence, like Scarlet was weighing up whether to be pleased or to go into dramatic despair. She decided on the former and ran to the window. The moon made her blink as though it was strong sunlight and she shielded her eyes. Looking down into their garden she told Seb that she could see the skulking shape of a black cat prowling beside the hedges and the tiny shape of the little rodent it was stalking; she could even make out the individual hairs of the rodent’s fur.
“Wow, this is incredible. I can see so much!”
The sound of creaking on the stairs made Seb leap for the door. He closed it to and they listened as their mum went into the bathroom and cleaned her teeth. While she was occupied Scarlet tiptoed back to her own room and Seb climbed into his bunk, making a convincing impression of being asleep when his mum put her head round the door. He lay waiting for her bedroom light to go out but she was obviously reading and eventually Seb fell asleep.
It seemed like only a second had passed when the Homer Simpson alarm clock sounded.
But I got up yesterday! But I got up yesterday! Homer’s voice incessantly complained.
The Taz was already downstairs. Seb could hear their mum telling him to get down off the table. Scarlet darted into the room. Standing on tiptoes beside his bed she thrust her face into his.
“How do my eyes look?” She rushed over to stare at herself in the mirror. Seb, trying to flatten his wild hair, joined her.
“Let me see then.”
She faced him. “Well, are they silver still?”
Seb hesitated. The irises were shining and looked a deeper, more chocolatey brown than normal. At first, the pupils looked black, then a beam of sunlight struck them and they shone silver – not a blinding silver, just a subtle shimmering that looked unusual.
“Well?” Scarlet was anxious.
Seb whispered, “The silver’s still there but it’s not massively obvious. You only see it in the direct sunlight. How’s your eyesight?”
She smiled, looking pleased. “Still fantastic, Seb, I can see so much. I can definitely see that massive bogey up your nostril! Go and blow your nose you disgusting boy!” She shoved him. He put a hand up to his nose, embarrassed, but smiled. The dawn light was now glowing more brightly through the window and as the sun rose, the silvery shimmering in Scarlet’s eyes looked other-worldly. Seb said nothing.
The Sin
Another trip to school and Scarlet chatted away happily in
the front seat. Nothing caused her to grump or strop that morning. In the confined space of the car Seb saw their mum cast a couple of curious looks at her. On one occasion Scarlet turned to say something to Seb and he was relieved to see that her eyes just seemed a bit peculiar, nothing you could actually put your finger on.
The Taz was playing with his window again and as they turned onto the main road Seb screwed his face up and had to put his hand to his mouth to stop himself gagging. “Tarmac! Can you smell that? Taz, put your window up. Please!”
Scarlet turned. “Seb, it’s not that strong! Stop fussing.”
Seb stared ahead. They were stuck at a temporary red traffic light as yellow-vested workmen resurfaced one half of the road.
“We won’t be here long,” his mum said, as The Taz played with the window button, winding it up and down. “Adam, you’ll break it! Stop it.” She was more hung up on the window being damaged than on the fact that her oldest son was almost retching and had turned ghostly pale.
“It really isn’t that bad, Seb. You are so overreacting.”
Seb looked over the back of his hand, which was clasped across his nose and mouth, at Scarlet. “It is strong, Scarlet! And you know I hate it.”
“Well you need to get over it. I don’t know what the big deal is.” She frowned.
“It reminds me of Dad. You know that.”
There was a sudden silence in the car. Scarlet glared at him. Their mum’s gaze flicked across to The Taz. He was still trying to play with his window button and seemed not to have heard the conversation.
“Sorry,” Seb said, the word muffled by his hand.
“So you should be!” Scarlet hissed at him.
“That’s enough, Scarlet – he knows. Now, what lessons have you two got today?” Their mum tried to change the subject as they eased past the roadworks.
Scarlet flounced round to face front and crossed her arms. The strop was back. Seb felt dreadful and couldn’t believe he had sinned so badly. He suppressed the urge to cry which arose not because he had spoken unwisely but because of the memories that now came flooding into his mind.
The putrid smell was still there and it took him back to the day, nearly five years before, when his dad had taken him for a bike ride, trying to make him road aware. They had been held up for a few minutes at the bottom of the main road which was being resurfaced.
Seb remembered the image of the man – tall, athletic, smooth unwrinkled skin that glowed with vitality, his sparkling brown eyes, so like Scarlet’s, laughing at his eight-year-old son as he became impatient waiting at the red light. Bringing his bike up to sit abreast with Seb he pointed out the different machines and bits of equipment the workmen used and told him the story of tarmac and how a man called Edgar something – Seb couldn’t remember the name – had invented a way of mixing tar and macadam, which meant crushed rocks, so they could be laid together as a road surface and he patented it as Tarmacadam or Tarmac for short.
Seb, as always, hung on his father’s every word and as the smell of hot tarmac filled the air he watched the workmen pouring, patting and fixing the layer onto the road. He was fascinated and listened as his dad went on to explain how, with so many more cars using the roads, they got worn out more quickly and local councils had to resurface them every now and again to provide a safer surface for cars to drive along. It cut the numbers of accidents and so helped reduce the number of injuries and deaths …
… And deaths. Two weeks later death had become a reality for the Thomas children. Two weeks later Seb’s wonderful, marvellous dad was slipping into unconsciousness behind the wheel of their car, their mum, heavily pregnant with The Taz, already unconscious.
Their parents had been on their way back from shopping when, for some unknown reason, their dad veered off the road and crashed their car into a tree on the verge beside it. The story had been told in the barest detail by their mum, she herself remembering little of the actual incident. She had woken to labour pains and The Taz had been delivered by an ambulance crew on a thermal blanket on the ground beside their car as her husband’s life ebbed away on the grass on the opposite side of the vehicle.
Their dad had only taken the day off work because it was his own birthday, September 23, and it was so close to the birth of his third child. It had been noted by staff later that the time of death, 11:48 as declared by the paramedic on scene, was to the minute the same as that listed by the ambulance crew as the time of birth of the baby boy Adam, Aubrey, Thomas.
The days following their father’s death had been subdued and painful. Their mum had been absorbed with the responsibilities of caring for her new baby and Scarlet seemed to find some form of solace in helping. Seb, however, simply walked through life as if he was in a dream, removed from reality, isolated. At the funeral he felt numb.
Over the next days, periods of numbness were interspersed with periods of anger and a refusal to accept. Then he would fantasise that it had all been a dream. Many times, in his imagination, his dad walked through the front door. Each time, the return to reality hit a little less hard.
Slowly, time moved on. There had been an unspoken pact between their mum, Scarlet and Seb that they did not ever, ever discuss their dad or the accident in front of The Taz. He was unaware and living in blissful ignorance. Mostly, he didn’t seem to notice the absence of a father. At the age of three, he had casually asked why he didn’t have a Dad-Dad like Gretel. Scarlet and Seb had remained silent, waiting for the answer their mum would give.
She simply told him, “Your Dad-Dad had to leave when you were born. He can’t be with you.”
The Taz had accepted this information and toddled off to play. A few more enquiries followed at gradually lengthening intervals and eventually he stopped asking. Their mother had explained to Seb and Scarlet that she would tell Adam about their dad when he was old enough to understand.
So Seb had committed the sin of referring to a person who, for him, evoked an intricate network of emotions and feelings, in the presence of his brother, to whom that person meant nothing. And now his sister was angry, his mum upset and his own longing for a hug from his dad had been reawakened to an unbearable level.
He sat facing the window, frowning so as not to cry. The smell had decreased but was still there, travelling with them inside the car.
A silver figure stood silently next to the lone tree in the field to his right, where the magpies had taken roost. Seb barely looked. He was fed up with all this strangeness. Fed up with all the emotions. Tired of worrying, of caring. He turned away from the window, controlled his revulsion, tuning out from the fading smell and found his mind wandering to the beautiful sight of the magnificent stag at the Lodge, the musty smell of its pelt, the sound of its breathing. And before he knew it, they arrived at school.
The Summons
By the time his mum parked the car Seb had calmed himself. It had only been a minute before Scarlet had uncrossed her arms, turned and mouthed the word sorry to him.
They parked in what had become their usual spot. Zach, Aiden and Nat were already waiting and swooped on Scarlet and Seb as they climbed out of the car. The Taz was ecstatic. The main gate goodbye hugs completed, the five went to drop mobiles off and started down the corridor towards the exit.
Although Seb wanted to give the impression of nonchalance he couldn’t help walking quickly and glancing around nervously. None of the others spoke but Seb was aware of Aiden’s head moving left and right and occasionally glancing over his shoulder. Their pace was quick and they all seemed to have one goal, the exit door.
“Back here please!”
The shout from behind made them stop. Mr Duir was standing at the end of the corridor with his arms crossed. He looked stern.
They walked back down the corridor and as they reached a point a few feet from him The Head turned and led them across to a flight of stairs behind the Reception area. Seb felt embarrassed as they were watched in their procession by
other students depositing their phones and the two receptionists checking them in.
A blaze of light shone through a tall window on the half landing as the stairs turned back on themselves to rise to the next floor. They all knew this was the way to the Head’s office, with the Deputy Head’s beside it, but none of them had yet been up there.
Mr Duir stopped on the half landing, letting Zach, Scarlet and Nat pass him. As Seb drew level with him by the window a bat smacked into the lower pane of glass. Mr Duir put his hand up to the glass and gently flicked the pane with his index finger at the point of the small beast’s head. It immediately veered off, flapping away from the building. The Head, with a blank expression on his face, made a gesture to indicate for Seb to proceed up the stairs, followed by Aiden.
The others were hovering in the seating area outside two imposing doors which sat at ninety degrees to each other in the hallway on the top landing. The Deputy Head’s door was on the left and Seb knew that the office, which sat atop Reception, had a commanding view over the entrance gate and the walkway that led to the main door. Several times he had walked through the door and glanced up to see the Deputy Head watching him out of the window.
Mr Duir’s door faced them. As he opened it the worn hinges creaked. A shaft of light shot into the hallway and painted a rectangle of brightness on the dark varnished wooden floorboards with The Head’s shadow framed within it. The light shone from a tall, imposing window, facing the office door which gave a view of the The Beach and the Old School.
Seb stepped into the room and stopped in line with the others, in a row in front of a large oak wood desk which sat in front of the window. The Head closed the door, with more creaking, and walked round to stand in front of the window. He faced outward, not looking at them. They exchanged confused and worried glances as he spoke.
“You must all avoid the main corridor. We have some … issues with maintenance in that area and it will be closed to all pupils for the foreseeable future. Do you understand?”
Still facing the window, the Head could not see that what had begun as exchanges of confused looks had now evolved into titters and nudges as the group’s heightened nerves at being summonsed to The Head’s office made the slightest thing seem funny – namely Zach, squeaking his shoes on the wooden floor as he rocked on his toes. When The Head spun around the sudden movement stunned them all and Seb was sure he saw a shower of sparkles stir in the air.
Mr Duir continued, “You will not walk through the main corridor. Do you understand me?”
There were embarrassed nods from each of them.
“Miss Thomas?” He glared at Scarlet who was staring at the floor trying not to laugh. She put her hand up to shade her eyes as she looked at him. “Do you wear glasses?”
The change of subject seemed to wrong-foot Scarlet and she remained silent.
“Do you wear glasses, Miss Thomas?” The