“Well,” said the Head, “it was a great goal.” “Was it?” said Barry.
“Yes. I watched it on Game of the Night. Just a shame that afterwards you had to be carried off.”
“I was very, very tired.”
“You must have been. I think it’s the first time a player’s ever been on a stretcher with a pillow, a blanket and a teddy.”
“Who gave me the teddy?”
“Emily Fwahm!”
“That was nice of her…”
“Yes. Are you interested then, in them being your parents…?”
“No,” said Barry firmly. “Too tiring.”
The Secretary Entity exchanged a glance and wrote down a word.
Barry looked over at their pads. He could see an F… a U… an S… another S… and what looked like the beginnings of a Y.
Then the Head said: “Well! Two more days left of your package. At least you’ve had a good night’s sleep before this one.” He turned over the fourth 24-Hourglass, the blue one. He looked at it: his eyebrow went up and then down again. More like a twitch than a raise. “You really need to – you know – get on with this, Barry. I’d really rather not leave it all till the last minute.”
“Well, I have to do the whole package,” Barry said.
“No you don’t,” said the Head. “If you find some parents you like, we can stop there and then not have to worry about…”
There it was. The trailing off.
“Worry about what?” said Barry.
The Head looked to The Secretary Entity despairingly.
“…about which one to choose!” said Secretary One.
“Yes!” said Secretary Two.
“Exactly!” said the Head. “Write that down, Secretaries.”
There was a short pause. “Really?” said Secretary Two.
The Head coughed nervously. “Anyway, Barry. What kind of mum and dad would you like to try out next?”
Barry took out his piece of paper. He’d covered a lot of the ground on the list already. He’d had parents that weren’t boring; that were famous; that weren’t poor; that weren’t tired all the time.
But then he saw Number 6: ‘Being REALLY, REALLY, REALLY strict’.
He couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to say it.
“I’d like parents who let me do whatever I want, please!”
What happened after Barry said this wasn’t quite the same as usual. The Head found some parents quickly, but they didn’t appear quickly. In fact, they didn’t come and pick Barry up at all, they just sent a message saying that he could arrive at their house “whenever he kind of, like, wanted?”
So the Head got PCs 890 and 891 to take Barry to where they lived.
They took a bus out of the city into the countryside. After a while, they passed a large sign with an arrow on it which said THE SEA. Barry sat on the back seat, in between Taj and Lukas, or PCs 890 and 891 as he was now properly starting to think of them.
“How’s it going? Have you found the right parents yet?” said PC 890.
“I don’t think so…” said Barry.
“Hmm,” said PC 891. “How old are you again?”
“I’m ten in two days.”
Both of them looked at him sharply.
“Two days?” they said together. They looked worried. To be honest, they sounded worried too.
“Yes,” said Barry. “Actually, about that. The Head said something… happens to children if they don’t find the right parents by the age of ten. But he didn’t say what.” The PCs carried on staring at him; now they were looking not just worried, but uncomfortable. “Do you know?”
“Well…” said 890, “I’ve heard – I mean, I don’t know obviously cos I found my mum and dad when I was like… seven! But I’ve heard…” and here he looked around surreptitiously and he lowered his voice, almost to a whisper, “that you go into this really… really… dark—”
“So! Anyway!” said 891, interrupting loudly. “I gather you had a day with the Rader-Wellorffs! Is that true?”
“Well, yes…” said Barry. “But, 890, can you just carry on with what you were going to tell me – about what happens when—”
“They’d be amazing parents! So much money!” said 890.
“Uh… they do have a lot of money…. but…”
“And then the word at the Agency was that you got a shot at Vlassorina!” said 891.
“Wow! Really? Did you?” said 890.
“Yes,” said Barry. “But listen…”
“And they didn’t do it for you either?”
Barry sighed; they were clearly not going to answer his questions about the… thing… that happened to unparented ten-year-olds. He shook his head.
“OK…” said 890, looking out of the window.
“Yeah. OK…” said 891, looking out of the other window.
“Hey,” said Barry, suddenly feeling angry. “The Rader-Wellorffs were crazy! They wanted me to shoot a bird! And Vlassorina, they wanted me to change my name to Barrissina! And the Fwahms!—”
PCs 890 and 891 both turned round at once.
“You had the Fwahms! as well?!” said 890.
“Blimey! Did they get you a game for the United Kid-Dom?” said 891.
“Oh, they did!” said 890. “That was you! I saw you on TV being carried off hugging a teddy…”
“Well, yes. They did. That was me,” said Barry.
They stared at him.
“You got to play at Wobbly Stadium!” said 890. “For the national team!”
“And you still…” said 891, “…didn’t think you’d found the right parents?”
Barry opened his mouth. But then he didn’t know what to say. He looked down, a little ashamed, and thought to himself: OK. I’m really going to try and like these next ones.