“So… two parents down, as it were,” said the Head. “Would you say either the Rader-Wellorffs or Vlassorina were, you know, on the shortlist?”
“Shortlist?” said Barry.
“To become your permanent parents… Are they in the frame? What would be the odds on either of them?”
Barry and The Secretary Entity were sitting in the Head’s office again. The Head had already turned over the third 24-Hourglass, the green one. The four of them had watched the first grains trickle down in silence.
Barry didn’t know much about odds, apart from when he and his dad were watching the football together on TV and, at half-time, that cockney man’s enormous head would appear and say something like “Chelsea to win 3–1… 11–2 on!” Barry didn’t really understand what that meant, although his dad would sometimes bet some money based on what the cockney man’s enormous head was suggesting, and almost always lose it.
“I don’t know,” said Barry. “Not very good. The Rader-Wellorffs about five million to one. And Vlassorina about twice that much.”
The Head looked shocked – both eyebrows went up this time, but not in a yes-I’m-so-clever-and-witty James Bond manner: just in a straightforward OMG! way.
“Write that down, Secretary One,” said Secretary Two.
“I’m writing it dow—”
“No, don’t,” said the Head. Now it was The Secretary Entity’s turn to look shocked. “Just… don’t,” he repeated. There was an awkward pause. TSE put their pads down.
The Head turned back to Barry. “So. Barry. You’ve still got three sets of parents left in your package. What kind would you like next?”
Barry took his list out of his pocket. It was looking torn and bedraggled now, and so creased it was becoming hard to read. But it was still clear enough (and anyway he knew it by heart) to read Number 3: ‘Being tired all the time’.
“Fit,” he said. “I’d like some really fit and strong parents, please. I’d like Parents who never get tired.”
It didn’t take long for the next set of parents to appear. In fact, almost as soon as The Secretary Entity had found a match for the words FIT and NEVER TIRED on the computer, a man and a woman appeared at the door of the Head‘s office.
“Hello!” said the man.
“Hello!” said the woman.
They were both wearing bright blue, all-over Lycra bodysuits, white headbands and very big trainers. “I’m Derek Fwahm! And this is my wife Emily Fwahm! We got here as quickly as we could!”
“Which, as you may have gathered,” said the woman, “is really, really quickly!”
“Hoor-hoor! Hoor-hoor! Hoor-hoor!” they said together, which Barry thought, but wasn’t entirely sure, was laughter.
“Fwahm?” said Barry.
“No,” said the man. “Fwahm! With an exclamation mark! Not a question one!”
“So you have to shout it?” said Barry.
“No,” said the woman. “It’s more the way you say it! We prefer to say it with this action!” She said “Fwahm!” while moving her hand sharply away from her, palm down. “Sort of an action word! It might go in a comic strip with something moving away from you very fast! A car! A rocket!”
“Fwahm!” said Derek Fwahm!, doing the hand action.
“Fwahm!” said Emily Fwahm!, doing it too.
“OK, I’ve got it,” said Barry, who was beginning to wonder whether he should just ask the Head to start looking through the options for parents number 4.