When the Sky Falls Read online

  But no matter how many times he stroked his back, or rubbed at the matted fur that clung beneath his jaw, Tweedy was inconsolable, and after one final frantic burrow, he changed tack completely and threw himself against the door, dislodging it enough to pull himself triumphantly through and out into the night.

  ‘You are joking!’ Joseph moaned. How on earth had he managed to lose a dog in an air-raid shelter?

  ‘What have you let him out for?’ Sylvie yelled.

  ‘I’ll get him back in,’ snapped Joseph. He didn’t want to spend any more time with these people than necessary. It was clear they were looking down their noses at him.

  The door was jammed, so he pulled himself through the gap, hearing Sylvie tell her husband to follow behind. ‘Do you want to face Margaret’s temper if anything happens to either of them?’

  But from the cursing behind Joseph, it was clear Mr Twyford had no desire to leave the shelter.

  Joseph looked for the dog, hoping he was merely chasing his own shadow in the yard, and yes, there he was, doing exactly that.

  ‘Come on, boy,’ said Joseph, taking a calm, quiet approach that felt quite alien to him. ‘Back inside now, come on.’

  But the dog wasn’t interested. In fact, he picked that moment to show he could be just as stubborn as the boy. Instead of obediently padding back underground, he tore in the opposite direction, and leaped the fence into next door’s yard.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Joseph groaned. What had he done to deserve this? And more importantly, what was he going to do about it?

  He weighed up his options, which were equally simple but unappealing: chase the dog and possibly risk a Nazi bomb. Or lose the dog, slink back to the shelter, and risk the wrath of Mrs F.

  What sort of a choice was that? It wasn’t like he owed Mrs F a damned thing, but he had little desire to sit in a cramped pit with the world’s grumpiest man and his miserable wife.

  God, he thought, what the hell do I do? He looked to the sky. Silent but for the siren. Empty. Not a bomber to be seen.

  What harm can it do? he said to himself. He’d corner the dog, drag him back to the shelter, then pretend he was deaf as well as rude.

  He ran to the fence and clambered clumsily over it.

  7

  His plan, however, soon ran aground.

  Firstly, because of the damn dog, whose whippet genes had propelled him out of next door’s yard, plus the next six, at the most terrific speed.

  His jumping was impressive too. Joseph peered, slack-jawed, through the inky darkness as Tweedy cleared fence after fence like a Grand National winner, leaving the boy to trail like a rag-and-bone nag. Jumping had never been his forte, unless it was onto someone’s back before wrestling them to the ground. Scratches bit at his legs from abrasive fence panels and one aggressive rose bush, but as Joseph stumbled over the final obstacle, he caught sight of Tweedy skittering around the corner and away from Calmly View.

  ‘Bloomin’ mutt!’ He grimaced, forcing his legs to go faster as he gave chase. ‘Get BACK here!’ he yelled, his voice echoing, the only noise to be heard now the siren had finally stopped. The street was so quiet and dark, Joseph could’ve been forgiven for forgetting he was in the city at all.

  He cursed the darkness as a kerb tripped him up. If it weren’t for it being the clearest of winter nights, and the moon coating the horizon slightly, he would’ve found any progress practically impossible.

  But as Joseph pulled himself to his feet, he spotted a second flash of light: a slice of blinding orange, streaking across the horizon, followed by a series of pure white spotlights, zigzagging endlessly.

  What the hell is that? he thought to himself, before realising it was a bomb exploding in the distance, followed by the home guard searching for the perpetrator. It would have been exciting, if it wasn’t so... real, and it became realer still when the noise of the explosion rumbled through, like thunder following lightning.

  He couldn’t be sure how far away it was, but it gave his chase renewed purpose. If the bombers were getting closer, then he didn’t want to be out here hunting a stupid dog any longer than was necessary.

  He wouldn’t run away, though. He was no coward. He’d run from nothing in his life, so he’d find the dog. Not to please Mrs F, but himself. No one else.

  He caught sight of Tweedy, or thought he did, sniffing casually at a telegraph pole, but his footsteps served as too much of a warning, and the dog bolted again. The only response he got when he shouted to Tweedy was from a warden, yelling at him to ‘Get yer backside off the street, before someone blows it up!’

  Joseph ignored him, of course, and ran on, following the dog as best he could, though at times he went on luck rather than judgement. Did the damn thing never get tired? He was, but just as he felt he couldn’t take another lungful of air, he spotted something. A landmark that he recognised.

  A set of gates, framed by two stone pillars, and beside them, a persistent, straggly mutt dragging itself through the tiniest of gaps.

  The zoo. Of course it was. If Tweedy was reeling from the chaos around him, what else was he going to do but follow his mistress?

  Although this place might offer some kind of sanctuary from whatever Adolf was dropping, it also offered up the prospect of a whole new war. Because when Mrs F saw the pair of them staggering into view, she wasn’t going to be happy.

  Well, sod her,Joseph thought. It was her stupid dog’s fault, after all.

  But as he took a step inside, there was another flash of light, another rumble of destruction. Not close, but closer, and enough to see the silence in the zoo broken: there was braying and squawking, and howling from the underfed wolves.

  All Joseph wanted was to find the dog. Not to try and drag it home without Mrs F seeing, he wasn’t daft. If he tried to do that then Tweedy would make an even worse noise than the din invading his ears right now.

  Perhaps if she spotted them at the same time, then her anger might be mildly diluted. Joseph thought about this for a moment, then realised she’d be livid either way. But did he care? He did not.

  So he wandered round the zoo, only flinching when a further explosion lit up the horizon. He walked past the aviary, the birds zipping quickly around it, almost in Spitfire formation. The camels looked animated instead of lazy for once, searching for something to kick or spit at in agitation, while the wolves were too busy howling to look hungrily in Joseph’s direction.

  Whichever path he took, there was no sign of Mrs F. Was she even there at all? Maybe she had further secrets. He wouldn’t be surprised. His father aside, he’d not met an adult who was as honest as they claimed to be.

  But then he approached Adonis’s cage. He didn’t want to. He’d avoided it on purpose, didn’t want to be anywhere near him or his anger, and as he neared the cage he picked up a rock just in case. He wasn’t afraid to throw it, either, if there was any repeat of their first meeting.

  There was no sign of the ape, though Joseph could hear him groaning from the shadows. What he could see though, was Mrs F, standing some twenty yards from the bars of the cage.

  He moved closer, but as he did so, he noticed something very strange.

  Another bomb burst on the horizon, close enough to jolt her instinctively into a pose that made no sense whatsoever. It wasn’t a calm pose. She wasn’t reassuring the ape through the bars this time. She was standing, legs apart, and clutching beneath her chin a rifle.

  A rifle that trembled in her grasp, but was pointed and ready to fire, directly into Adonis’s lair.

  8

  Not much shocked Joseph these days, but this didn’t make any kind of sense.

  What on earth was she doing? The first time he’d seen her in front of this cage, she’d calmed the animal in a way that he hadn’t known was possible. The time after that, she’d been inside the bars, with nothing to protect her. It had been like
she’d understood what the animal needed. No, more than that, he thought: as if she loved the beast.

  So why was she now looking like she was ready to end its life just as easily?

  ‘Mrs F?’ he gasped, voice fighting with another explosion off in the distance.

  The woman’s eyes flitted skywards, gauging if the German bomber above was any closer than the last. Her focus spun back to the cage as Adonis dashed, panicked, from the shadows. Instantly the barrel trained back to the animal, the rifle tight under her chin, the strain visible on her face and arms.

  Adonis made his displeasure felt. Louder. Angrier. Joseph wondered if it was because the ape had spotted him, an even less-welcome guest than a Nazi bomb?

  But as the tension and confusion built to breaking point, they were suddenly shattered, as from nowhere bounded Tweedy, rearing up at his mistress, pulling her focus from the cage.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she said, pushing the dog down while swinging the rifle strap over her shoulder. Her eyes swept her surroundings, narrowing when she saw Joseph only yards away.

  ‘I might have known!’ she boomed. ‘Can you not do anything I ask?’

  He wanted to fight back. To tell her this was the last place he wanted to be: that he’d simply chased her stupid dog here. But at the same time he wanted to know why she had a rifle. And why she had it pointed at Adonis.

  But he didn’t get a chance to ask anything because Mrs F’s attention was pulled away by yet another blast. It still wasn’t close, but it brought on a din from all corners of the zoo, and galvanised her into action.

  ‘With me. Now!’ she yelled, pushing Tweedy in his direction.

  Joseph didn’t move, so she shoved him on. She was much stronger than she had any right to be.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he protested.

  ‘The aquarium. There’s a trapdoor to the cellar. You’ll get down there and you will not MOVE until the siren tells you to. Understood?’

  He didn’t want to do what she said, but felt powerless against her speed and strength. It was like being whisked up by a tornado, and by the time he could really resist, he was descending a dark set of stairs, the dog whimpering at his feet.

  ‘Trip me up, I dare you,’ he spat at it as the door slammed shut, throwing him into darkness.

  It was just the two of them. Mrs F was still above ground with the rifle, doing God knows what. It was no warmer down here than it was in the open air, just damper, plus it smelled appalling, like all the fish from the aquarium had been dumped there to rot.

  Joseph did the only thing he could. He sat on the damp bottom step, tensing as the dog pushed into him for warmth, and waited for the siren to sound the all clear.

  9

  Joseph had known some long, uncomfortable nights: nights wondering why his mum had done what she did, as well as what he must have done to cause it, but this night was different. It felt like it would never end. Time ceased to matter. The darkness of the cellar gave nothing away. It could’ve been morning, for all he knew, but inside his concrete bunker there were no clues to tell him when the bombers would no longer come.

  Sleeping was out of the question, too, unless you were Tweedy, and the only reason the dog had snored for the last three hours was because he’d found some comfort on the boy’s lap. Joseph had thrown the mutt off the first few times he’d tried, but Tweedy was persistent, and eventually Joseph gave in. Having one part of his freezing torso warmed was preferable to none at all, though it did mean he had to sit bolt upright on his prison’s step, left with nothing but his thoughts, of which he had many.

  He started in the obvious place, railing against why he was here in the first place, damning his mother, grandmother, even his dad, which was rare. But when even those thoughts grew tired of themselves, he was left with what he had just witnessed: Mrs F, the rifle, the cage.

  It made no sense, no matter how many different angles he approached it from. If he wanted to know the truth he’d simply have to ask her.

  But how should he approach that? She’d proven herself straightforward, blunt even, but without ever giving anything of herself away. So there in the darkness, he wrote himself a script that he wouldn’t deviate from until she cracked under the pressure.

  ‘Come on,’ he’d say. ‘In the two days I’ve been here, that ape’s the only thing you’ve been especially kind to. Like when it went for me. Calmed it down, you did, without shouting or being horrible. Then you fed it from inside the bloomin’ cage, and don’t say you didn’t, cos I saw you. It was like you were the best of friends. So why have you got a gun pointing at it now, eh? It doesn’t make sense!’

  He nodded to himself, that would do nicely. Straight and fair. Even Mrs F couldn’t wriggle out of this one.

  The all clear finally rang as dawn broke, sending Tweedy skittering up the steps in a frenzy. Joseph stood, trying to shake life and warmth back into his legs and hold the script in his head. It wasn’t easy: the lack of sleep had reduced his brain to what felt like trifle.

  He emerged from the aquarium, mole-like. The morning was bitingly cold, with a sheen of dew underfoot and clearish skies above: though in the distance there stretched a long band of smoke, evidence of the Nazis’ big night on the town. He couldn’t help but wonder what he’d find if he followed the smoke to its source.

  Mrs F wasn’t hard to track down. He found her by Adonis’s lair again, though her pose was markedly different from last night’s.

  She was slumped on her haunches, forehead and hands resting on the rifle’s barrel. Any exposed skin carried a strange, blue tinge. As uncomfortable as that pose appeared, it looked to him like she might be asleep.

  Not for long though. Joseph’s crunching footsteps soon startled her, the gun returning to her chin as she swung it upon him, eyes wild, yet vacant. Like she hadn’t a clue where she was.

  If he’d been in the mood he might have thrown his arms up in surrender and said something like ‘Don’t shoot!’

  Typically though, she got in first. ‘I am not happy with you, my lad,’ she spat, her daze as short as her temper.

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘What in the name of blazes were you doing out in the air raid? Did I not make it clear you were to stay with the Twyfords until I got back?’

  ‘It’s not my fault. Try blaming your little friend here.’ He pointed at Tweedy, now coiled between his mistress’s legs, looking him straight in the eye. If Joseph hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn the mutt just stuck his tongue out in defiance. ‘Soon as you left he got spooked and legged it. What was I supposed to do? Leave him to get blown up?’

  ‘Did the Twyfords not try to stop you? You could’ve been killed!’

  ‘Why would they? I don’t belong to them, do I?’

  ‘You should’ve stayed where you were. Done as you were told.’

  ‘What? And let Tweedy get blown up instead?’

  ‘If necessary, yes!’ she replied.

  Joseph pondered this and made sure his expression was doing the same. ‘Makes sense I suppose, given what you were doing when I found you last night.’

  ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Well, from what I saw, you’re not quite the animal lover you say you are.’ He allowed his gaze to move, obviously, to Adonis’s cage.

  He wanted her to know that he hadn’t missed a thing. And he sensed a change in her as she bit back.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean, Joseph.’

  It felt like a weak answer, delivered without her usual strength. And it galvanised Joseph further.

  ‘Yeah, you do. What was happening when I got here?’

  Mrs F shrugged, leaning the rifle against her hip, as if to play down its significance. ‘None of your business, is what.’

  ‘Oh, right. Just struck me as strange, that’s all.’

  ‘What? Keeping e
veryone safe. That’s strange, is it?’

  ‘Safe? Looked to me like you were ready to put a hole in Adonis, not keep him safe.’

  ‘Yes well, it’s not as simple as that, is it? Nothing is, these days.’

  ‘Looked pretty simple to me. I thought you were here to look after the animals... not end them.’

  He could see her colour rising: pink, amber, red, crimson. And he loved it.

  ‘Do you think I want to be stood here holding this, pointing it at anything?’ Her tone was shrill. ‘Well? Do you? You know nothing, child. No—’

  Joseph had her. He’d done it. He allowed himself to enjoy it, holding his hands up in mock surrender. ‘No need to defend yourself to me. Though if you needed someone to end the big lump in there, all you needed to do was ask.’

  If the home guard had been watching, they’d have been winding up the siren, as Mrs F was ready to blow. Her face was afire, even her hair burned brighter than normal against the early morning light.

  Come on then, Joseph said to himself. Let’s see how much fight you’ve got in you. How hard do I have to push before you pack me off, like all the others?

  But if the woman was going to explode, she wasn’t going to do it in front of him.

  Instead, she swept past Joseph and out of sight.

  The boy felt the force of her mood as it passed and then sat, looking at Adonis’s cage, pleased and surprised that he’d managed to get a rise out of her so quickly. But what was she actually doing with the rifle?

  That remained between her and the ape, and he doubted, very much, that Adonis was going to tell him a thing.

  10

  Joseph sat for a while, but it didn’t suit him. It made his ears sting with cold and his brain itch with questions.

  Where has she gone? it asked. What was she doing?

  When he couldn’t answer, his mood darkened further.

  Why do you even care? he asked himself. Do you think she’s in that office fretting about what you’re doing? No, she isn’t. She’s probably sat with a nice cup of tea.