The Tunnels Below

  Contents

  Title Page

  1: A Marvellous Surprise

  2: Roll with It

  3: The End of the Line

  4: To Market, to Market

  5: Ducking and Diving

  6: Juice Boost

  7: Good Taste in Music

  8: Finders Keepers

  9: Layer upon Layer

  10: Breaking News

  11: A Man with a Plan

  12: Risky Business

  13: Ride or Sigh

  14: This Little Light of Mine

  15: Hitching a Ride

  16: Mrs Hoots’ Haberdashery

  17: Another Place and Time

  18: One for Sorrow

  19: Lady-Bird, Lady-Bird

  20: Twists and Turns

  21: Hole in the Wall

  22: Black Forest

  23: The Deep

  24: Hexagon Hall

  25: The Other Side of Fear

  26: Electric Heart

  27: Walking on Egg Cells

  28: Quite a Tumble

  29: Goodbye

  30: Hanging in the Balance

  About the Publisher

  Copyright

  1

  A Marvellous Surprise

  Have you ever woken up one morning and felt like everything has changed overnight? That’s because it has. Cecilia Hudson-Gray woke up on the morning of her twelfth birthday to the gurgling sound of the radiators coming on. It was a frosty March morning and the windows wept with condensation as the heating kicked in to settle the cold. Cecilia looked out of her window and was met by two black eyes and a sharp black beak; she inhaled a large sniff and pulled her quilt around her tightly. One for sorrow she thought, remembering the first line of an old nursery rhyme. She watched the brave bird poking about on the window ledge, parading jauntily along like it was performing a circus act. As the magpie dipped forwards preparing for flight, Cecilia’s brain also swooped into action as it occurred to her that there might be presents waiting downstairs! She leapt out of bed, her quilt flying out behind her like a cape, and thudded through the house like a rumble of thunder, followed by her sister, Hester, who must’ve heard Storm Cecilia passing.

  “Happy Birthday,” chimed her parents as Cecilia wedged herself in at the breakfast table.

  “Thanks, guys!” she replied, pulling the sleeves of her pyjama top over her hands like mittens, shielding them from the chill of the morning and the heat of the hot cup of sweet tea in front of her. She picked it up and blew on it gently, tufts of steam rising off the surface.

  “You’ll stretch your sleeves and ruin your PJs doing that, you know,” her dad warned, planting an apparently unwanted kiss on her mess of hair. Cecilia responded by brushing away the invisible imprint of the kiss as her sister entered the room.

  Hester sidled up to Cecilia and whispered in her ear, “Nappy turd-day!” and sat down, smiling smugly.

  Cecilia put down her cup and began a mocking slow-clap. “Very funny. How long did it take you to come up with that one… Fester?”

  Hester refused a dignified response and stuck her finger in her nose, then reached out to wipe the fruits of her labour on Cecilia’s arm.

  “Daaaaad!” Cecilia wailed like a baby.

  “Stop it, you two. Hester, it’s not fair if you don’t have enough to go round!” their dad, Lyle, joked then returned to making pancakes.

  Meanwhile, the girls’ mum—Alice—squirrelled away at the crossword, nibbling the end of her pencil. “Drat!” she exclaimed. “I’ve made a mistake!”

  “You are a mistake,” taunted Cecilia.

  “Err, no! That’s not a nice thing to say, missy. It might be your birthday but that’s no way to talk to ya’ mum.”

  Her dad came rushing at her, brandishing a greasy spoon. He held it up to Cecilia’s chin, grinning from ear to ear.

  “What have you done with my daughter?” he said playfully. “And when are you planning on bringing her back?”

  “Never!” Cecilia hissed dramatically, squeezing her eyes into a villainous glare.

  “Why, why, WHY!” Lyle broke down into a mock lamentation, dramatically falling to his knees and reaching his arms towards the sky, spoon falling to the floor, butter dripping everywhere.

  “You’re such a doofus, Dad,” Cecilia chuckled through another sip of sweet tea.

  “You’re cleaning that up, by the way, Lyle,” said Alice without looking up from her crossword.

  “No, I’m not,” said Lyle. “Tatty to the rescue!” Tatty was their cat and he hopped onto the floor quick as a flash at the mention of his name. Lyle retrieved the spoon and flung it into the sink, while Tatty licked the greasy patch of kitchen floor. Lyle flipped the last pancake and plonked it onto a pile he had already made.

  “All right, all right, grub’s up! Dig in, you scallies,” said Lyle as he put the pile of steaming hot pancakes in the centre of the table. “Eat ’til your eyes are bulging out of your head! We’ve got a long day.”

  Ten minutes later, Cecilia was picking at the remains on her plate, breakfast now resting happily in her stomach, when she was distracted by Hester climbing up on her chair. Hester cleared her throat and wiped her sticky hands on her pyjamas and through a mouth smudged with raspberry jam was about to speak when Cecilia interrupted her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  Hester, even at the tender age of eight, fancied herself as a bit of a scholar and found any occasion when people were gathered together as a chance to recite a poem or a speech she had “prepared earlier”. She was going to write the speeches for a politician when she grew up. Hester unfolded a small piece of paper and began orating.

  “We are gathered here today…”

  “You pinched that, that’s not your writing,” heckled Cecilia.

  Hester continued undeterred, “…to celebrate the birth and life of my dear sister, Cecilia Hudson-Gray, and I would like to personally mark the occasion with a gift and this wonderful speech I have written. Thank you.” She sat back down. There was a light scattering of applause.

  “That was a lovely gesture, Hester,” said their mum, patting her on the back.

  “So, Cecilia, do you think you deserve a present?” said Hester. Her eyes were bright and excited. “I hope you like it. If you don’t, it won’t go to waste—I can always keep it for myself.”

  She disappeared from the room for a moment and came back holding a crumpled brown paper bag that had been very badly taped shut. With a lot of Sellotape. Hester dumped her present on Cecilia’s lap. “Here.”

  Cecilia could see how excited she was but knew that Hester had previous as far as presents were concerned: for Christmas she’d given her a broken alarm clock from the 1970s.

  “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks. Thanks, Hess.”

  When Cecilia finally managed to open the present, it was surprisingly marvellous. Hester had saved up her pocket money (that is, she used what was left of her pocket money after she had bought herself a new fountain pen) to buy a vintage marble from the old bric-a-brac store down the road from their granny. She had seen it one afternoon, when she and Granny had gone into the shop for a snoop. There was something magical about the way it caught the light, and Hester and Granny had decided that it was super special and that Cecilia simply had to have it for her birthday.

  The marble was large, not quite as big a tennis ball but on the way there. It had an oily layer on its outer surface onto which a pattern of silvery white markings had been etched. When Cecilia held it up to the light, she could see through a chip on its surface into a misty white centre with a constellation of silvery sparkles. It had an enchanting way of reflecting the colours around it, catching the pink on Cecilia’s pyjamas and the umber in
Hester’s eyes.

  “Wow. Cool.”

  “Looks like the universe, doesn’t it?” Hester said.

  Cecilia stared at it. “Yeah. Thanks, Hess, it’s gorgeous.” Cecilia secretly thought that she was getting a bit old for toys but in this case she’d make an exception. It was more of a curiosity than a toy, plus it looked like it was made of glass and children aren’t usually allowed to play with things made of glass. She was definitely old enough to look after something fragile.

  “Let’s have a look, missy,” said her dad, holding out his hand. “Cor, that’s a corker, that is, Hess, nice one.” And they high-fived.

  “I thought you could put it in this.” Hester handed her sister a piece of gold string with a tangle of wires at the end.

  “What is it?” asked Cecilia.

  “It’s a necklace, dummy. Look, it fits in here like this!” Hester demonstrated how to insert the marble into the contraption she had devised and handed it back to her sister, “Then you can wear it on special occasions!”

  “Wow, Hess, that’s really lovely and so creative,” Cecilia said, trying to hide some of her discomfort. She had already guessed what was coming next and she didn’t like the idea.

  “Thanks. I knew you’d like it and the best part is: it’s a special occasion today because it’s your birthday, so you get to wear it all day!”

  Cecilia winced a little. She really did love the marble but she wasn’t sure she wanted to wear it. After all, it wasn’t that cool. It sort of looked like something that had been pulled out of the rubbish, tangled up with all the string and wire, but she really didn’t want to hurt Hester’s feelings and it was only for one day and she could always tuck it under her jumper.

  “Lucky me,” she said drily with a wink and a cheesy smile. Hester was clearly ecstatic. Cecilia shot her dad a look that cried save me but he just shrugged in reply.

  Cecilia unwrapped the presents from her mum and dad after that: a sketchbook, some watercolours and a brand-new junior microscope set.

  “We know you love all that technology stuff: iPads, jPads, kPads and whatnot,” joked her dad, “but we wanted to get you something a bit more hands on.”

  “Something that would inspire you,” added her mum.

  “Yeah, something that didn’t need charging up,” said her dad.

  “I love it, guys, I absolutely love it. Thanks.” Cecilia smiled.

  “Right then, you lovely lot, let’s get a groove on! There’s a world out there waiting for us,” said their mum. Once again there was thunder heard shaking through the floors of the house.

  2

  Roll with It

  Hester was skipping ahead, humming to herself and picking bits off bushes and throwing the debris in the air like confetti. Cecilia, however, was trailing behind in a bit of a mood because they weren’t allowed to bring any “technology” with them, which had meant she wasn’t allowed her mobile. Her mum and dad were walking together talking about how rainbows are formed. When Cecilia overheard she picked up the pace—she loved science.

  “Raindrops act like prisms and refract the light,” said her mum, all matter of fact.

  “Nonsense!” exclaimed her dad. “Raindrops are the tears of clouds passing over the wonder, pain and beauty of the world. A prism is just a type of triangle. Come on now, Alice, you know better than that!”

  Alice looked frustrated.

  “Mum’s right actually, Dad,” said Cecilia, looping his arm.

  He was really trying to wind her mum up now, smiling cheekily and nudging Cecilia in the ribs. “Rainbows are formed from the souls of lost shooting stars that have been pulled into Earth’s atmosphere, where they mingle with these tears.”

  “Shut up, Lyle. You’ll confuse Cecilia. We don’t want her getting into her exams and writing poems when she’s supposed to be answering questions about geography or science!”

  Cecilia had always loved science. Where other people saw a blue sky she saw a curious world of questions that led to explanations. A hamburger wasn’t just a hamburger, oh no. It was a stage in a life cycle, a food chain, a chemical reaction and a transfer of energy. It could all be broken down and retraced step by tiny step to the beginning of existence, and further still. Oh, don’t get her wrong, she could still see the beauty in the world to which she belonged, but her awe came from how a thing came to be in the first place and where it would go next on its journey, not just what it looked like.

  The family arrived at the Underground station, where a few members of station staff were milling around, chatting, smiling, pointing people in the right direction. Next to Cecilia in the ticket hall, standing there looking at a white board was an old man with a curly white afro. He was reading the quote of the day:

  Some of the most beautiful things are born of mistakes

  —A NON

  Cecilia stared at it while the rest of her family faffed with Oyster cards and stubborn machines that will accept this and won’t accept that.

  “What does it mean?” Cecilia said absent-mindedly in a voice just shy of a whisper.

  The old man wiped his nose with a tired hanky. “That occasionally beauty happens by accident. What do you think?” he said, tucking his hanky in his pocket and slowly buttoning up his coat. Cecilia noticed he had a button missing at the very top.

  “Well, if that were the case, wouldn’t that make just about everything beautiful?” Cecilia offered.

  “It’s a nice way to look at things, don’t you think? Even the things that don’t happen on purpose bring colour and vibrancy to this funny old world!” The man looked at Cecilia with a pair of dark eyes that had been made cloudy around the edges by the passing of time. Then he picked up his plastic bag and left. “Goodbye,” he said sincerely.

  Hester trotted over and started tugging at Cecilia’s coat.

  “Err, why were you talking to that dusty old man?”

  “Argh! You’re so rude, Hester. Imagine if you heard someone say that about Granny!”

  “I was only asking,” said Hester sheepishly, feeling burned and a bit confused. She tried to defend herself. “You can’t help true facts, anyway, Cecilia, because he was old and I only wondered why you were talking to him. Simple as that.”

  Hester and Cecilia rejoined their parents and they floated down the escalator to the tunnels below.

  They waited on the edge of the platform for their train to arrive, mumbles of conversation echoing around the tunnels. Cecilia tiptoed to the edge, her feet poised just over the yellow line, staring into the black hole of the tunnel as the two tiny bright eyes of the Tube train grew bigger and bigger. Suddenly she felt a weight around her neck, as though the marble necklace was pulling her over the edge, choking her. She was whipped back hastily by her dad seizing her by the shoulders.

  “Cecilia, what on earth are you doing? You’ll get your head knocked off!”

  Cecilia wasn’t quite sure what had happened. She hadn’t even realised that she was in any sort of danger. But there in the headlights of the oncoming train, she had felt something stirring in the pit of her stomach and the weight of a world around her neck as she teetered on the edge. She shuddered and shook off a sinister feeling as she let out a deep breath.

  “Please stand back behind the yellow line!” a monotone voice called as if mocking her from the loudspeaker.

  “See,” said Hester. “You silly sausage!”

  They boarded the train and rode a few stops, then got off to change trains. The sound of a trumpet danced on the ceilings of the tunnels and into the open ears of passers-by. The family wriggled their way through the crowd but Cecilia stopped to see where the sound was coming from. The atmosphere melted into a blur of colours and background noise as she stood there entranced. She looked down at the busker’s feet and where one would normally see a scattering of coins, there was a trumpet case bejewelled with gems and buttons. Cecilia was consumed by the music watching the busker’s dreadlocks swaying as she gently rocked from side to side. Cecilia smiled an
d reached into her pocket.

  “Cecilia!” shouted her dad, who was getting cross now, “Don’t wander off like that! What has got into you all of a sudden?”

  Cecilia broke out of her trance. “Sorry, Dad, it was just the music is really cool and the buttons… I was—”

  “Yes, yes, come on, come on,” her dad said hurriedly.

  As they turned to leave, Cecilia felt in her pocket again for some change to give the busker, but by the time she had finished fishing around, discovering only a ten-pence piece and an open packet of Cherry Drops, the busker seemed to have upped and left—rather hastily, Cecilia thought.

  “Hester,” Cecilia called as she caught up with her sister. “I hope you don’t mind but I’m going to take the necklace off for a bit. It’s quite heavy and I’m not feeling so good.”

  “Oh, OK,” said Hester. She looked a little bit upset. “I didn’t think of that. I know, I’ll make it into a ring when we get home instead!”

  “Sure,” said Cecilia, hoping she would forget.

  Cecilia paused a moment and undid the knot of string around her neck, sighing with relief as it came off. But as she held the marble in her hand a passer-by knocked it out of her grasp. The marble came loose from its wire setting and fell to the floor; she watched it bounce heavily along the ground, heading back towards the platform they’d come from. Cecilia hurried after it, trying to catch it as she went. It bounced and landed with a thud back on the empty train that was still waiting on the platform. Speeding towards the carriage, she saw a flash of bright light as she jumped across the yellow line and landed on board. Seizing the marble in her hand, she shoved it in her coat pocket and turned back to leave, but as she did so the doors beeped and slid shut and in an instant she was swallowed whole. In the distance she could see her family rushing towards her through the smudged glass as the train snaked away into the tunnel ahead.

  Cecilia became aware very quickly that she was the only passenger on board. She began to panic when the train failed to stop at any of the stations that it passed, some with names she had never heard of before. It travelled faster and faster, deeper and deeper—she could tell because her ears kept popping and she kept trying to yawn to release the pressure. All at once she was plunged into darkness. She had never experienced darkness like it, thick and heavy. Frightening thoughts formed and danced into the black and became frenzied before: SNAP! The carriage lights flashed back on, flickering like blinking eyes. She sucked in her breath, feeling the train slow to a stop. Steadying herself, she watched as the train arrived at a station. The doors opened, an invitation for her to get off, but this was a station she definitely didn’t recognise.