Wild Blue Yonder (The Ceruleans: Book 3) (19 page)

Si sighed. ‘You’re right, I guess. I just hate that you’re
both so… powerless. I know you can Travel, Jude, if you get in trouble, and
take Scarlett with you – and Sienna, if you can grab her. But what if you and
Scarlett get separated? You can’t be together all the time. She goes to the ladies’
room; they pounce. They could take her, Jude. Then you’ve lost them both.’

‘I know, Si,’ said Jude a little testily. ‘I’ve thought of
that. That’s why we came here. For training on familiar ground.’

‘Huh?’ I said eloquently.

‘Scarlett, earlier, when Michael said Evangeline wouldn’t
come here because women don’t Travel? He was telling the truth.’ Jude stared at
me expectantly.

‘Not exactly news to me, Jude.’

‘
Don’t
, Scarlett. Not can’t. Don’t.’

‘Don’t,’ I echoed.

‘But they can?’ said Si.

‘Yes.’ Jude eyed me nervously, waiting for a reaction.
Seeing only a blank face, he went on: ‘That is, you’re not
meant
to
Travel. I mean, it’s not the Cerulean way – Evangeline forbade me from teaching
you. But you are able to Travel. If you learn how.’

‘You’re going to teach her?’ said Si. ‘Now that’s a plan!
Can I watch?’

Ignoring Si, Jude leaned toward me and said, ‘Scarlett, I’m
sorry. I mean, I never lied – I said women
couldn’t
, but I led you to
believe…’

I kept my face neutral as I scrutinised him. His eyes were tight
with worry. It was a look that was too familiar. Poor Jude – so many guilty
secrets he’d carried over these months for Evangeline, for the Cerulean good.
This one I’d suspected, of course. Because a gender-specific gift made little
sense. But it was a relief – and very exciting – to discover I was right. I
could Travel! Jude would teach me how!

Still, that was no reason to let him off the hook right
away. After all, he was a liar-liar-pants-on-fire.

‘So that day at Luke’s,’ I said soberly. ‘When you were
throwing taramasalata at each other.’

‘Er, it was salsa and –’

‘Whatever. That day at Luke’s, when he was pointing out how
crazy it was that male Ceruleans have the ability to Travel and females don’t,
and you kept
lying
and
lying
to his face…’

Jude winced at the emphasis.

‘And Luke picked up that dip bowl and hurled the contents at
you…’

I shot a look at Si. His lips were twitching, whether at the
mental image or the realisation that I was winding Jude up, I didn’t know.

‘And you were standing there covered in tzaziki…’

‘Salsa.’

‘Whatever. So you were standing there, dripping, and what did
you do? Did you walk away, knowing you richly deserved that dousing? Or did you
pick up a bowl of blue cheese and throw it at the guy who was calling you out
on the truth!’

Jude hung his head and whispered something.

‘What was that?’

He muttered a little louder, ‘The salsa had chillies in and
it was stinging.’

I burst out laughing, followed instantly by Si. Jude’s head
snapped up. For a moment, he looked perplexed, but then his expression softened
and he smiled.

‘I
am
sorry, Scarlett,’ he said. ‘I hope you
understand why I couldn’t teach you?’

The laughter in the room died as quickly as it had erupted.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I get it. You’d have been as good as opening
the cage door. But now you’re prepared to do that? To teach me to Travel?’

He nodded.

‘Even though –’

‘Yes,’ he said sharply. Subtext:
Don’t say it. Please.

So I didn’t. But I thought it:

Even though by teaching me to Travel, you’re giving me my
freedom. And that means I may never go back to Cerulea with you.

‘Push, Scarlett!’

‘Come on. You can do it!’

‘PUSH!’

A giggle rose up inside me and leaked out.

‘Scarlett,
really
.’

‘Sorry, Jude.’

I looked at Jude and Si, watching me so intently, and giggle
became guffaw.

‘What’s the joke, Scarlett?’ asked Si.

‘Er…’

The two guys were sitting on the sofa side by side across
the room from where I stood, an earnest and determined cheering committee. The
source of my mirth was the connection I’d made between this scene and another
recent one I’d been part of, in which a very different line-up of people had
been chanting, ‘Push! Push’ Of course, this time it was a ball of energy being
coaxed out, not a baby. Thank God. The relief had made me come over all silly.
That and the fact that Si and Jude seemed oblivious to the fact that they
sounded like expectant fathers in a delivery room.

‘Well?’ said Jude testily. He’d been trying to teach me to
Travel for a good hour now, but so far the only distance I’d covered was a
couple of metres, and that was because my feet got tangled in Si’s shaggy rug.
‘Scarlett, this is serious. Don’t you want to learn?’

‘Yes!’ I said. ‘Sorry.’

I pulled my face into a frown and thought sobering thoughts.
The evening news. A ten-hour motorway traffic jam. A disastrous haircut. Simon
Cowell telling a pole-dancing hamster and a naked dance troupe and a traffic
warden in a mankini singing an operatic version of ‘Billie Jean’ that they may
be British but they most certainly did
not
have talent. Uh-oh. The
corners of my mouth twitched. Jude glared.

Quickly, I stepped it up a gear – I replayed in my mind a TV
ad for the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children that I’d
seen months ago and had given me nightmares for weeks. Bingo.

‘Right,’ I said seriously. ‘I’ll try again.’

I closed my eyes and located that part of me that I used to
heal. It was like a warm ball sitting behind my solar plexus. To heal, all I
did was will the energy out. But to Travel, according to Jude, I had to think
of the place to which I wanted to go, visualise it clearly in my mind, and
then, with every bit of strength I had, push that energy out of me in one,
fluid move, in the mental direction of the place. ‘Think of it like a map,’
he’d suggested. ‘Stick a pin where you’re standing, an anchor, and then another
pin where you want to be, a second anchor, and then push out your energy like
it’s a ball of wool and you want a thread to connect the two pins.’ Now, I
pictured the store cupboard leading off Si’s kitchen as vividly as I could, and
I imagined the two little pins and I
pushed
.

I opened my eyes. Still standing on the living room rug in
front of Jude and Si.

As one, we sighed.

‘If it’s this difficult, how are we supposed to believe that
George and Arthur and William and Henry worked out how to do it in the
beginning?’ I asked.

‘It’s not that difficult,’ said Jude. ‘Once you get it, it’s
easy.’

‘How did you learn?’ Si asked Jude.

‘We’re taught at Kikorangi once we turn sixteen. We have
lessons for several weeks.’

‘Weeks!’ I exclaimed.

‘
We
don’t have weeks, Scarlett,’ snapped Jude. ‘We
have five days. That’s it.’

Evangeline’s deadline. Apparently, we were still working to
it.

‘Jude, you can’t get cross that I haven’t picked it up in an
hour if it took you weeks.’

‘My first Travel was minutes into my first lesson, actually.
The other lessons are just for polishing technique, learning how to not quite
materialise, that sort of thing.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Well, then maybe women can’t do it after
all.’

Jude shook his head. Frowning, he said, ‘Evangeline’s done
it. Michael told me he saw her once. Appearing in the office on the island.’

Interesting.

‘So, it’s possible.’ Si turned back to me. ‘Can you explain
what you’re doing, Scarlett? Maybe we’re missing something.’

I sighed, but explained the thought process, which was an
echo of Jude’s earlier instructions.

‘Hang on,’ said Jude. ‘Where exactly are you visualising?’

‘The store cupboard off the kitchen. You said pick somewhere
in the house.’ It had been the first place that sprang to mind, probably
because when Si had been in there earlier I’d spied a packet of KitKat
chocolate bars. I loved KitKats. Hadn’t had one in far too long…

‘And have you been in that store cupboard?’

‘No,’ I said, a little affronted. What did he think – I was
pilfering food from our host on the sly?

Jude gave a grunt of frustration. ‘Do you mean to tell me,
this whole time you’ve been trying to Travel to a place you’ve never been to?’

‘Er…’

‘Did I not
explicitly
say an hour ago that Travelling
requires an anchor point you’ve physically been to in the past?’

‘Well, yes. But I’ve been to Si’s before…’

‘But not specifically in the store cupboard!’

Silence fell in the room. I stared at Jude, somewhat shocked
by his tone. Even Si, usually super-chilled, looked a little uncomfortable.

Jude caught our looks and his shoulders sagged. ‘Sorry,’ he
said. ‘I’m just…’ He looked up at me and said more kindly, ‘Do you want to try
again?’

I nodded and closed my eyes. This time, I pictured somewhere
I’d certainly been before – on the sofa right where Jude and Si were sitting.
Mentally, I dropped the pins, and I imagined a connecting thread down which I
would Travel. Then I gave that ball inside an almighty shove.

Oh!

Something soft underfoot.

A gasp.

A rustling.

Wobbling… falling…

‘Holy…’

Hands on my arms, steadying me.

‘Scarlett?’

I opened my eyes. I was standing on the sofa between Si, who
was looking up at me with awe, and Jude, who was looking up at me with concern.

‘I did it!’ I announced.

‘You did it!’ echoed Si.

‘How do you feel?’ demanded Jude. ‘Sick? Dizzy?’

I thought about it. ‘Not really.’

The concern left his eyes and he matched my grin.

‘Again!’ he ordered.

I thought about sitting at the kitchen island unit. I
dropped the pins. I lay the thread. I pushed. In the time it took me to exhale,
the scene blurred in and then out again. I was standing on the island unit.

I struck a ‘Ta da!’ pose, arms flung wide.

Si clapped loudly. ‘Man I wish I could do that!’

‘It’s easy,’ I told him. ‘When you know how.’

Jude laughed loudly – a little too loudly. ‘Well, you seem
to have conquered the short-distance Travel. Although perhaps work on
visualising
floor
spaces to land on.’

‘Got it,’ I said. ‘Now what?’

‘Now,’ said Jude, ‘we increase the distance.’

So I Travelled to Si’s downstairs office and back. Then to
Si’s upstairs bathroom and back. Then to the mezzanine in the summerhouse and
back. It was such a rush – exhilarating – the power, the freedom. It felt so
good, I didn’t care at all about the heaviness setting in, the way the
Travelling drained me.

Jude stood up. ‘One last journey,’ he said. ‘Or you’ll wear
yourself out. A little further, I think, this time – beyond Si’s.’

‘Somewhere in the cove?’

He nodded.

‘It’s the middle of the day, Jude,’ Si pointed out. ‘And
it’s sunny. There’ll be people everywhere.’

Jude looked pensive. ‘The graveyard at St Mary’s?’

Si shook his head. ‘Building works there. Stone work after a
loose brick fell from the tower last year. There’ll be men all over.’

‘Old Bert’s place?’

‘Nope. His son sold the house and there’s an elderly couple
living there now. How about the little cafe in the village? It closed down a
good while back.’

‘Are the windows covered?’

‘Nope.’

‘Too risky then. She could be seen.’

They fell silent, eyes flickering about as they sought
inspiration.

‘Home,’ I said. ‘Home is safe.’

I was referring, of course, to the cottage on the cliff – my
grandparents’ cottage, as I still thought of it, though they’d long since
passed and my mum owned it now. There Sienna had lived when she’d run away from
her school and come here, to the cove. And there I’d lived last year, for those
happy months, those too-short months. It was isolated, the only property on the
headland to the west of the bay, surrounded by wild land and accessed by a
long, narrow lane. And it was derelict – the night I’d died, there had been a
fire which would have rendered it inhabitable. The cottage was perfect for our
needs.

‘I don’t know, Scarlett,’ Jude was saying. ‘Won’t you find
that…’

‘Upsetting?’ I finished for him.

Probably,
I thought.

I’d missed the cottage so much. All that time on the island
in my funky pink-and-green room I’d longed for home – the smell of the varnish
on the old writing desk in the lounge, the way when you sat on the old sofa you
sank right into its chintzy embrace, the comforting heat from Nanna’s Aga, even
the tick of the old clock in the hall. These details, and so many more, were
comforting, grounding – they made me feel like a little girl wrapped up in my
grandparents’ love. To go back now and see the home I loved so much damaged and
abandoned and unloved would be painful. But some part of me welcomed the pain.

‘Maybe it will help,’ I said quietly.

Jude looked at me, and I saw understanding in his eyes. He
knew the decision I was wrestling with – return with him to Cerulea willingly,
or fight for something else, some
one
else – and he knew that going home
was a step toward making that decision. Perhaps he thought seeing the cottage
like that would help me let go, close a door on the past. Perhaps that’s why he
nodded and said, ‘All right.’

All the jubilance and excitement had leached from the room,
and as Jude stood now there was a gravitas to the movement. Si remained seated,
watching soberly, as Jude came over to me.

‘I’ll follow right behind you,’ Jude said.

‘What? Why?’

‘Scarlett, I don’t want you going there alone.’

I pushed my shoulders back. ‘I’m a big girl, Jude. I can
handle it.’

‘But what if you –’

‘Jude!’ I said sharply. ‘I want to do this
myself
.’

He looked so anxious, and I realised suddenly that I hadn’t
been alone, not properly alone without a Cerulean nearby, for a very, very long
time.

‘Oh!’ I said. ‘You know I’ll be back, right? In a little
while.’

He said nothing.

‘Jude.’ I put a hand on his arm. ‘You’ve taught me to
Travel. I get that this was hard, really hard for you. But now you have to
stand back and just trust me. I’m not going to run out on you.’

Unspoken words hung in the air between us:
Not today,
anyway.

‘Okay,’ said Jude at last. He reached into his back pocket
and pulled out his mobile. ‘But you take this, right? And you call Si’s number
if you need help, if you get stuck or something…’

‘Stuck?’

‘I don’t know, you Travel into a locked freezer or something
daft and then forget how to get back.’

I raised an eyebrow.

‘Just humour me, okay? Take the phone.’

I took it. Already, I was dropping anchor points in my mind…

‘Scarlett, one more –’

But home was beckoning like a flashing beacon to a
shipwrecked sailor, and I was gone.

*

The kitchen, I had visualised the kitchen, where the
memories were most vivid in my mind. My grandmother elbow-deep in bubbly water
at the sink, scrubbing pans and singing. My grandfather frowning over the
Times
crossword. Sienna and me standing on stools at the counter, helping Nanna stir
fairy-cake mix and stealing licks of the spoon whenever her back was turned. And
then, more recently, Cara sitting at the table, filling me in on the plot of
the latest
Vampire Diaries
episode, and Luke standing behind me as I
rummaged in the fridge, his arms snaking around my middle, his lips pressing
against the nape of my neck.

As soon as I arrived, I realised my mistake in choosing this
room. Because all the memories that had pulled me here now held me back from
opening my eyes. It was the room furthest away from the worst of the fire, and
therefore more likely to be in a better condition than others. But still, once
the heart of the home, it would now be ruined. How much could I bear to see?
How damaged and blackened and stinking was the room?

Stinking.

Funny, but I didn’t pick up the acrid stench of smoke. Not
even a lingering mustiness. But there was a definite scent in the air, strong
and heady. It transported me back to school days, to the start of a school year
when I moved into a new dorm. Just refurbed. With a ‘Wet Paint’ sign tacked up
above the recently glossed radiator.

My eyes flew open.

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Oh, oh,
oh
!’