DUBBA-DUBBA-DUBBA…
That’s a funny noise. But it does sound like something I’ve heard before.
DUBBA-DUBBA-DUBBA…
Then I remember that if I open my eyes, I might be able to see what it is.
I open my eyes.
‘Daniel!’
I see Simon leaning over me, relief radiating out from his ghastly face. The roof beyond him is curving and white, and there are boxy units of hi-tech kit and monitors.
DUBBA-DUBBA…
‘Where am I?’ I manage to whisper.
Before Simon can answer, a young woman in an orange jumpsuit marked ‘paramedic’ leans into view and says, ‘You’re in an air ambulance. Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine.’
So that’s what the DUBBA-DUBBA is – the throb of helicopter blades.
Cool.
Then I remember what happened to put me in here.
‘You came back for me, Si,’ I croak up to my sidekick. ‘Thanks, buddy.’
‘Er…’ says the woman in orange, who obviously thinks I’m talking to her. ‘Just try to relax. You’ve had a double shot of morphine for the pain. If I were you, I’d try to get to some sleep.’
Simon waits for her to stop speaking before answering me.
‘Of course I came back. I was never very far, Daniel, you should know that.’
‘I’m sorry I said those things,’ I say, remembering our argument in the ruined flat. ‘I’m sorry I shouted.’
The paramedic says, ‘Hey, I’d have shouted too if I’d been struck by lightning. That was one freak storm. It took the point of the Shard clean off.’
‘It is I who should be sorry.’ Si gives one of his most impressive bows, so I know he means it. ‘I should never have lost faith in you, Daniel.’
‘But you were right,’ I say. ‘About Mary. She really was too far gone. I wish I could have helped her, Si.’
We both look at the woman in orange, to see what she’ll do. She shakes her head and looks away. I guess she thinks I’m just talking to myself, what with the shock of everything that’s happened and the morphine, and all. And that suits me and Si just fine.
‘But you did help her,’ Simon says, now that we have the conversation to ourselves again. ‘Against all the odds, you got her over to the Hereafter. That wouldn’t have happened if you’d given up. And you saved Stacey and Ned. ’Tis a triumph, Daniel!’
‘And Venn Specter?’ I say. After everything that’s happened, I find I’d like to have saved everyone, even the annoying star of Venn Specter Investigates.
‘See for yourself,’ says Si. ‘For behold, the window of wonders!’
And he steps back, sweeping his arm towards a small TV screen in the corner of the air ambulance. It looks like the news is on, and – huddled in a silver foil blanket – Venn Specter is being interviewed.
‘Ohmygodohmygod!’ he says, his eyes wild. It looks like he might have thrown up a little on his bottle-green pullover. ‘There was a ghost! An actual ghost! I can’t believe it!’
‘I’m sure your viewers would want me to ask, Mr Specter,’ says the voice of an interviewer, ‘why you seem so surprised to have seen a ghost? After all, your whole reputation has been built on your claim to be able to see ghosts all the time.’
‘You don’t understand.’ Venn grabs the man by the lapels. ‘It was a real ghost! And we got it on film. It was recorded…’
I tune out of the TV and look at Si, one eyebrow raised. After all, as far as I can tell, the whole crazy incident on the Shard was broadcast to the nation via Ned’s camera. It must be causing an international sensation.
‘As for that,’ Simon says, with a mischievous grin. ‘Ned’s camera broadcast almost nothing.’
‘But…’ I blink at him. Even that hurts. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t pretend to understand your twenty-first century ways, Daniel, but the words “static” and “interference” are being used to explain it. The last thing that the audience saw on the big screen was a close-up of that keyring in the Shard’s souvenir shop. After that, the picture went fuzzy. DazzleTV was forced to broadcast last year’s Venn Specter Investigates Christmas Special instead.’
I can’t help laughing. So much for Venn’s precious proof. But I stop laughing when I feel the dull ache it causes throughout my body.
Then something glittery catches my eye, and I look back at the TV screen. There’s a close up of Stacey there now, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.
‘… you must have been very brave.’ says the voice of the interviewer to Stacey. ‘Did you see the ghost, too?’
‘No, I saw a pretty lady,’ says Stacey. ‘And a weirdy boy. And the weirdy boy was jumping about and being funny. And there were sweeties. I want a sweety.’
There’s the sound of laughter, and the shot zooms out to show Stacey’s mum. Beside her are Tim and Ned.
‘It was a terrible experience,’ says Stacey’s mum. ‘I certainly won’t be going to one of Venn Specter’s shows again. I can only thank Mr Ned here for bringing my daughter back safe and sound.’
Ned gives the camera a polite nod, but says nothing.
‘And the ghost?’ The interviewer obviously doesn’t want to let this point go.
‘Well, I didn’t see one,’ says Stacey’s mum. ‘Just a terrible storm.’
I tune out again. It’s tempting to think this is the end of Venn Specter and his low-down ways, but even as I think that, I know it won’t be. Because in the end, he’s right, isn’t he? He’s already a winner, because he’s already famous. He’ll find a way to turn all this to his advantage. After all, it’s great publicity. I expect he’ll have a book out by this time next year. And another series of his TV show.
I look back at the screen and, sure enough, the picture now shows Venn, still wrapped in foil, addressing his fans. In a way, it’s even better for him that nothing was recorded. Now Venn can say whatever he likes. And from the size of the crowd, it looks like there are still plenty of people ready to believe him.
‘Turn it off, Si.’
Simon bows, and then reaches his spectral hand into the television. It shuts down.
My body feels ready to do the same thing.
‘How bad is it, Si?’ I say. ‘Me, I mean.’
‘Well, you are a little crispy round the edges, but from what I heard the doctor say, most of you should make a full recovery.’
‘Most of me?’
Simon looks a bit sheepish.
‘Remind me, Daniel, are you left-handed or right-handed?’
I blink at him. Then I remember the sight of my right hand burnt to a blackened claw. I glance down at it now, and see that it’s completely wrapped in bandages.
‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ says Si, looking away. ‘Well, I’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks, anyway. Um…’
I look away too.
‘Er, they did recover these,’ Simon adds, lifting my purple specs with his spook powers. The paramedic is too busy trying to figure out why the TV has stopped working to notice. Si lowers them over my eyes. They’re a bit wonky, but it feels good to be wearing them again. Then I remember something.
With my good hand I reach into my pocket and pull out the tatty old copy of Wow TV that Mrs Binns gave me. It already seems like a lifetime ago. I wave it feebly at Si.
‘I’ve just realised something about this.’
Si looks confused.
‘Look at the date on it,’ I say, and drop the mag on my chest.
Simon looks. Then a solitary ectoplasmic cloud of understanding puffs out of the hole in his head. He glances up at me.
‘This magazine’s not just fourteen years old, Si,’ I say. ‘It’s dated to the very week I was born. And I know enough about Mrs Binns to know that this isn’t a coincidence.’
‘Daniel…’
‘Si, your secret’s got something to do with my birth, hasn’t it?’
Simon folds his arms, and looks out of the window. The DUBBA-DUBBA sound is different now, and I guess we’re coming in to land. Si turns back at me.
‘If I told you my secret, Daniel, it would not only explain why I am here with you, it would also turn your world upside down. I know you want answers, but what if those answers changed the very person you think you are? Are you really ready for that? As you lie there in a shattered body, with one arm reduced to charred bone…
‘You said it wasn’t that bad!’
‘… one arm in a bandage, I mean. In a bandage.’ He looks flappy again. We feel the helicopter touch down.
‘Look, Daniel. Please believe me when I say that I cannot tell you the secret today. Because if I did…’
‘What, Si? Why can’t you tell me?’
‘… because, if I told you, it would be the start of the greatest and most dangerous adventure of your life.’
I stare at Si, and wonder how he can say such a thing after all that’s just happened. But Simon says nothing more.
Then the door of the helicopter flies open, and I’m being rushed out on my trolley.
It’s still snowing.
