The back seat of the Ferrari, although cramped, was the most luxurious thing that Finn had ever seen, but he didn’t even notice the creamy white leather and the soft padded fittings. He was still shaken up by his encounter with Barry, but he was horribly aware of how fast the car was going as it purred swiftly towards Rothiemuir. He had only a few minutes to put his case to Tom Henderson.
Tom was sitting in the passenger seat. He turned to look back at Finn.
‘So what’s this all about then? Why were those goons getting at you? What’s your name, anyway?’
‘I’m Finn.’ Finn’s voice came out in a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘We’d – me and my friends – we’d set up some placards for you to see because we desperately wanted to talk to you.’
‘Matter of life and death, you said.’
‘Yes! It’s the balloons, see.’ Finn was frantically trying to sort out his thoughts. Why hadn’t he planned what he was going to say?
‘What’s he talking about?’ Sam, Tom’s driver, changed down a gear as he eased the car out from the coastal lane on to the main road into Rothiemuir. ‘He’s having you on, Tom. Kids’ll do anything for an autograph. You shouldn’t have picked him up.’
‘No!’ Finn almost shouted. ‘It’s the balloons, see, they’ll blow out to sea and land on the water and when the air comes out of them, the dolphins will think they’re jellyfish and eat them. Their stomachs get all filled up with balloon rubbish and they won’t be able to eat anything. They’ll starve!’
‘Sounds daft to me,’ said Sam. ‘Balloons don’t look a bit like jellyfish. And even if they do eat them, they’ll just poo them out again. I swallowed a fridge magnet when I was kid. Came out the next day with a clunk into the toilet.’
‘They can’t poo them out! They don’t!’ Finn was watching with horror as the car sped through the outskirts of Rothiemuir, coming closer to the supermarket. ‘Their insides aren’t like ours. And the balloon strings get wrapped round their mouths and their fins.’
‘That’s quite interesting, that is,’ said Tom. ‘I didn’t know about all that.’
‘Careful, Tom,’ Sam said. ‘You don’t know what you might get into.’ His eyes met Finn’s in the mirror. ‘You an eco-warrior?’
‘A what?’ said Finn.
‘Animal rights nutter.’
‘I’m not a nutter!’ burst out Finn hotly. ‘I just – I care about dolphins. I’ve seen one all tangled up in a balloon string. It was horrible.’ He stopped, racking his brains for anything else that could impress the footballer. ‘And it’s not just dolphins. It’s seals, and turtles, and lots of other wildlife too.’
The huge square bulk of the supermarket was now visible ahead.
‘We’ll have to let you out here, Finn,’ Tom said kindly.
‘Yes, but will you do it?’ begged Finn.
‘Do what?’ said Tom, looking puzzled.
‘Say you can’t let the balloons go, to save the dolphins!’
‘Are you joking?’ scoffed Sam. ‘I can see it now, can’t you? Tom Henderson rolls up, cameras popping, journalists got their mikes out, provost steps up, chain round his neck, and Tom says, “Oh sorry, guys, I can’t let your balloons go up because of some kid I’ve never met before who told me not to.” ’
The car whispered to a halt. Sam got out and opened the door, waiting for Finn to follow. Dry sobs were rising in Finn’s sore throat.
‘Please, Tom,’ he pleaded. ‘Please.’
‘Sorry, Finn. Can’t do it,’ said Tom. ‘It’s all been set up, ages ago. You know what? You worry too much. I bet it’s not nearly as bad as you think. They wouldn’t allow it if it was that awful, would they? Tell you what, I’ll give you my autograph and a couple of extras. You can swap them with your mates. Get yourself a treat, eh?’
He reached for a pad in the car’s glove pocket and began to scribble his name.
‘Out,’ said Sam, reaching into the car to grab Finn’s arm. ‘Now.’
‘It’s all right, Sam,’ said Tom. ‘He’s a good kid. Means well, I can see. May have a point, too. Tell you what, Finn, I’ll donate my fee for doing this to charity, OK? Save the Whales, or something.’
He held out some bits of paper to Finn with his autograph on them. Finn shook his head mutely. He was too choked up to speak.
Seconds later, Sam had hauled him out of the car and he was standing on the pavement, while the Ferrari hummed away towards the crowd that was waiting outside the supermarket.
Finn had never felt so miserable in his life.
I’m useless, he thought. Everything I do goes wrong. I’m just a stupid—
‘Finn!’ he heard someone call. ‘What happened? What did he say?’
He turned to see Jas and Charlie stepping out of his father’s ancient van. They ran up to him.
‘What’s he like?’ said Charlie breathlessly. ‘And did he give you his autograph?’
‘Yes he did,’ said Finn savagely, ‘and I shoved it back at him. He’s useless and stupid, just like me.’
‘He gave you his autograph? And you didn’t take it?’ said Charlie, shocked.
‘He wouldn’t listen to you, then,’ said Jas sadly.
‘You should have taken it and given it to me,’ Charlie said bitterly. ‘You should have let me go with him, anyway. I’d have talked to him about football. Got him on our side. Nudged him in the right direction.’
‘Are you crazy? There wasn’t time. That car, it goes so quickly and quietly, you don’t even know it’s moving. We were here in no time.’
‘Not like your dad’s van then,’ said Charlie. ‘We were shaken to bits.’
‘But it was nice of him to give us a lift,’ said Jas, frowning at Charlie. ‘He drove past us on his way to Stromhead. Said he was going to meet my dad here to talk about his new job. I don’t know what . . .’
She stopped, as neither of the boys was listening to her. Finn had subsided into defeated misery. Charlie was still brooding on the lost autograph.
‘Come on, you two,’ she said briskly. ‘We can’t stand here all day.’
‘Come on where?’ said Finn. ‘There’s no point in going anywhere.’
‘To the supermarket, that’s where,’ said Jas.
‘What on earth for?’
‘You never know. Something might happen. We might get another chance. Tom Henderson might change his mind at the last minute.’
‘He might be signing autographs, but I bet there’ll be a queue a mile long,’ said Charlie, shooting a sour look at Finn.
Jas and Charlie set off.
I’ll go down to the beach, thought Finn, and I’ll see which way the wind’s blowing. If the balloons start coming down on the water, I’ll go out and start getting them in.
Somehow, though, he couldn’t bear the idea of being alone. Almost without knowing what he was doing, he turned back and began to follow Charlie and Jas.
There was a big crowd outside the supermarket. The people of Rothiemuir had come out in force, and half of Stromhead had turned up too. Finn could even see Mrs Lamb’s blonde head at the back of the crowd, with Kyla and Dougie bobbing up and down beside her, alongside Mrs Faridah.
‘I can’t wait to get in there and start shopping,’ Finn heard a woman say. ‘There’s a fresh bakery and offers on everything.’
The Ferrari had pulled up just past the supermarket door. A red carpet had been laid out, and the provost was standing on it, his gold chain of office sparkling on his chest. He was talking to the supermarket manager and a few other men in suits. Nigel and Barry were standing at the supermarket doors, staring menacingly at the crowd. Tom Henderson was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He didn’t seem to know how to stand still.
The supermarket manager led the provost up to the microphone, which had been set up in the middle of the red carpet.
‘This is an exciting day for Rothiemuir,’ boomed the provost. ‘A major new shopping facility has come to our town with all the advantages of . . .’
But at that moment, the microphone stopped working. The provost didn’t seem to notice. He went on talking, his mouth opening and shutting, but nobody could hear a word he was saying. Finn saw Nigel and Barry glance at each other, then look round uncertainly.
Jas grabbed Finn’s arm and started jumping up and down, waving her arms to catch Kyla and Amir’s attention. They saw her and hurried over. Amir looked triumphant. Kyla looked worried.
‘Amir found the plug for the microphone,’ said Kyla. ‘He pulled it out. He’ll get into awful trouble if anyone saw him.’
Amir smirked, pleased with himself.
‘There’s an extension cable. It was easy. It’ll hold them up for a bit, anyway. What about Tom Henderson, Finn? Did you speak to him? What did he say?’
Finn simply shook his head. He couldn’t bear to explain it all again.
The microphone spluttered back into life.
Amir looked disappointed.
‘I thought it would take them ages to find the socket.’ He shrugged. ‘I tried, anyway.’
Finn wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed on a brilliant mass of yellow balloons, each one stamped with the name of the supermarket in bright scarlet letters. They were held in nets behind a chain-link fence with a gate in the middle of it.
‘One minute to go!’ shouted the supermarket manager. ‘And then our legendary guest, the one and only Tom Henderson, is going to release the balloons and open the supermarket. The countdown has begun! Do it with me, everyone! Sixty! Fiftynine! Fifty-eight!’
The crowd enthusiastically joined in.
‘Fifty-seven! Fifty-six!’
Finn, watching in agony, became aware that Dougie, who had escaped from Mrs Lamb and had wriggled his way to them through the crowd, was tugging at Jas’s sleeve.
‘Jas, I’ve done something awful,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what to do. You’ve got to help me.’
‘Forty-three! Forty-two!’ roared the crowd.
‘What?’ said Jas. ‘Not now, Dougie.’
‘I didn’t mean to do it, honestly,’ said Dougie. ‘It was just that I was over there, where the balloons are, and there’s this gate in the fence. I sort of wondered if my padlock would fit over the catch thing, and I sort of slipped it on, and then it snapped shut all by itself, and just to check that it was still working I spun the numbers and now I can’t get it off again. I changed the number you make to undo it yesterday, and now I can’t remember what it is.’
‘Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!’
‘You silly . . .’ began Jas automatically, then she stopped and stared down at him. ‘Dougie, are you telling me that you’ve padlocked the gate where the balloons are and there’s no way you can open it?’
‘Yes,’ said Dougie unhappily. ‘What am I going to do, Jas? I didn’t mean . . .’
‘Twenty! Nineteen! Eighteen!’
Finn’s head had jerked up. He felt as if a light had gone on in his head.
‘Dougie, you’re a genius!’ he crowed. With a rush of strength that surprised him, he picked Dougie up and swung him round. Over the younger boy’s head, he could see the supermarket manager walking over to the balloon enclosure. Now he was staring, horrified, at the locked padlock.
‘Ten! Nine! Eight!’ yelled the crowd.
The provost was leading Tom Henderson along the red carpet to the enclosure, where the manager, red in the face, was struggling desperately with Dougie’s padlock.
‘Five! Four! Three! Two! One!’
The crowd fell silent, waiting for the wonderful sight of five thousand golden balloons rising up and filling the sky.
Nothing happened. Finn felt Jas’s hand gripping his arm. Charlie was kneading his other shoulder.
‘Oh!’ said Dougie. ‘I’ve just remembered the number! It’s four, three, two, one! I’d better go and tell them.’
Five pairs of arms shot out and grabbed him.
‘You’re not going anywhere,’ said Finn gleefully. ‘Don’t you get it, Dougie? You’ve saved the day!’