Zodiac Girls: Brat Princess (3 page)

“Fasten your seat belts as we shall be landing
shortly,” came Pete the pilot’s voice over the intercom.

We were still above the clouds so there was nothing
to see as the plane continued its descent, but I kept
looking and at last, we burst through clouds and I
could see the ground below.
Erk? Fields and fields of green.
What’s that all about? Where’s the Eiffel Tower? We must be
coming in from a different angle to my previous trips,
I thought
as I felt the wheels beneath the plane come out ready
for landing.
I never realized Paris had so much countryside
around it
.

“Plane ready for landing. Staff, take your seats,”
came Pete’s voice.

Henry came in from the kitchen area, took his seat
on the opposite side of the compartment and strapped
himself in. I continued looking out the window. “Hey,
Henry. Have we been diverted to another airport
outside Paris?”

Henry looked down at the floor.

“Henry?”

He looked as if he was having an eye nerve attack
and didn’t know where to look. His eyes rotated round
from his shoes to the overhead racks to the window. Up,
down, around, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Well?” I asked again.

“Um. Yes. Slight diversion I think. Slight. Yes…”

“You think? But why? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Sleeping,” squeaked Henry. “You were sleeping.”

“Don’t worry, Henry. I’m not going to be cross, just
I like to be kept informed. Is there bad weather? Fog?
What is it? Snow?”

Henry was looking really peculiar. “Um. No.
Temperatures are cold but no, no snow.”

Maybe he’s a bad flyer
, I thought,
but… we’ve flown
together before and he’s never acted like this
. “Are you okay,
Henry?”

“Oh yes,” said Henry looking anything but okay.

I looked out the window again and got a strange
feeling that we weren’t over France at all. The fields
below looked remarkably like… like England! I knew
it well seeing as three of my schools had been there. A
feeling of panic hit my stomach.
There was something going
on that Henry wasn’t telling me about. Oh god, the plane was
going down. Must be engine trouble. Why else would we be
landing here? Oh god, that’s why Henry looks freaked. He
knows. Are we going to make it? Oh god. I’m too young to die
.

I gripped onto the sides of my seat. “Tell me,
Henry, tell me the truth. We’re going to crash, aren’t
we? How bad is it?”

Henry kept staring ahead. He still wouldn’t even look
at me.
Must be really bad
, I thought.

“HENRY.
ANSWER ME
.”

I was beginning to feel really scared by now and felt
a tantrum coming on. I hit the pause button on it.
Not
the time,
I thought as I looked out the window again. We
were coming in to land at a small airport. Definitely not
Charles de Gaulle.
Ah, non, definitement, non
. I had been
there. And this wasn’t it. Not by a million miles. This
looked more like a private airport.
Where were we?

As the plane landed with a soft bump on the
runway, the brakes screamed on slowing us down, then
we began to cruise towards a hangar and small prefab
building.
Not crashed then
, I thought.
Or maybe just one engine
was in trouble and we had to make an early landing and Henry
didn’t want to scare me. That was okay
. I made myself take
a deep breath.

“I’m okay, Henry. Now. All I need to know is what
is going on. That’s not too much to ask now, is it?”

Henry shook his head, unclasped his belt, stood up
and began to walk past me. “Sorry,” he mouthed as he
disappeared out of the cabin.

Sorry? Sorry? What for?
My mind went into overdrive.
I quickly pulled my phone out and switched it on ready
to call Tigsy, then Mummy. Before I could punch in
Tigsy’s number, the cabin door opened and the
celebrity man who had been staring at me back in St
Kitts was standing there.
How did he get on board?
I
wondered as he beamed a kilowatt smile, revealing a set
of Hollywood-white teeth. Then the penny dropped.
Ah! Hijacked. That’s what’s happened and Henry’s in on it. I
never trusted him. Probably in it for money. Happens all the time.
He was always borrowing money and he could never pay it back.
Oh god, how utterly dreary
.

“You won’t be needing that where you’re going,
miss,” said the strange man as he strode over to me,
reached down and took my phone. “Now, if you’d like
to get up and come with me.”

“Who are you?”

Silence.

“Where are you taking me?”

Silence.

We were whizzed through customs and I found
myself in the back of a car. A car with tinted windows
so I could see out but no-one could see in. Celebrity
man was in the front, and between us was a glass
partition, but I could see that there was a gap in it
through which he could hear me. There was no doubt
about it, I had been kidnapped. I had done my best to
resist getting off the plane but the man had simply
picked me up, put me over his shoulder and carried me
out to the car as if I were as light as a feather. Of
course, I kicked and thumped but it seemed to have no
effect at all. The man was a monster. Or wearing body
armour. Whichever, his broad shoulders didn’t seem to
feel my protests.

“Can I have my phone back?”

Silence.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

Silence.

“Look, my parents are very rich, but I expect you
know that already. They will pay you off, no doubt
about it. I even have my own account with thousands
in it so how about we don’t waste any more time, you
let me speak to them, we’ll get your money sorted and
I can be on my way to Paris to meet my friend?”

More silence.

“Where’s Henry? I suppose he put you up to this?”

Still no reply. I felt a tantrum coming on.
“WeeeraaaarrrgHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
I blasted out. I pummelled the
seats. Kicked the back of the front seats. Thrashed
about. The man didn’t take any notice at all. Not one
bit. He didn’t even turn around.
Hmm. Tantrum tactic not
working
, I thought.
Best save my energy for later
.

I leant forwards to tap on the glass partition. And
that was when I saw that he was listening to an iPod.
No
wonder
he wasn’t responding.

“Oi, dingbat brain,” I yelled, but he was warbling
along with some tune, totally oblivious to me in the
back. I knocked on the partition again. Nothing.

I had no choice but to sit back and look out the
window. It was beginning to grow dark outside, but I
could see that the area was rural. We drove through a
village with shops and where houses looked warm and
cosy as people switched lights on and through one
window, I glimpsed a family gathering round a fire. I
saw a sign for the village as we left it behind. Osbury?
Osbury, sounds vaguely familiar,
I thought and made a
mental note of it so that I could tell my rescuers later.
After the village, the road grew dark again and we
made our way through hedgerows, narrow lanes.
We are
totally out in the country,
I thought as we sped along.
I
wonder where X-factor man is taking me
.

After a further fifteen minutes, there was some
movement in the front. I leant forwards to see that the
driver had taken off his headphones.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he replied.

“Did you hear any of what I was saying before?”

“A bit. Who? Why? Where? Yeah. Heard all that.
That’s why I put on my headphones. Henry’s on his
way back to St Kitts. He had nothing to do with this.”

“So who are you?”

“Name’s Sonny Olympus.”

I burst out laughing. “Sonny Olympus! What kind of
stupid name is that?”

Sonny looked put out. “My name!” he replied, then he
pouted like a spoilt sulky teenager. “And it is so
not
stupid.
If you’ve really got a problem, though, you can call me
Mr O, but only if you
must
.”

I laughed again. My tactic was to make him feel
inferior. It works on most people. “Mr O! Pff. Also a
stupid name. So who are you anyway?”

He turned and said proudly. “I am, or will be, like
a ray of sunshine in your life. I am to be your guardian
for a month.”

“Oh, get a life,” I said. “I’m a bit old for guardians
wouldn’t you say?” But something he had said had
panicked me. A month. Whoever was behind this, Mr
O or a whole bunch of them, they planned to keep me
for a
month
. No
way
. Outside the scenery looked bleak,
like we were driving through the moors. I felt a trickle
of fear and, as a hundred horror stories began to play
through my mind, I tried not to imagine what could
happen to me in such a remote place.

“You did hear that my parents are very rich…?”
I began.

“Yep, heard that bit. And you’ve got thousands.
Lucky old you.”

“So as soon as you call Mummy and Daddy, they’ll
pay.”

For some reason, Mr O seemed to think that I had
said something hysterical and guffawed loudly.

“WHY are you laughing?”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that they’ve paid already,” he
said in a really girlie spiteful way.
Just who is this guy?
I wondered.

“Paid already? What do you mean?”

“Board and lodging. Hey, relax, kid. You’ll see soon
enough.”

“Don’t call me ‘kid’. And relax? Are you from
another
planet?”

This caused Mr O to laugh more than ever. “Yes.
Yes. Indeed I am,” he said. “How
observant
of you.”

Rude, sulky and sarcastic, and all in under an hour
, I
thought.
Boy! This guy could almost outdo me!

He was starting to
really
annoy me.
Time to try another
tactic,
I decided. I leant forwards and caught his eyes in
the driver’s mirror. He smiled. I smiled back. “You
really are very handsome you know…” I began.
Flattery usually gets you everywhere, particularly with
boys, and although Mr O was clearly a man, what are
men except older boys?

Mr O nodded his head. “Yes. I do know. People tell
me all the time.”

D’er. Modest, too. Not
, I thought as I flicked my hair
and did my best seductive look. Mr O flicked his hair
at exactly the same time. “I’m sure they do,” I said.
“Now, Mr O, if you are nice to me, I’ll be nice to you
and…”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, cut it out. Who do you think
you are? Lolita the teenage seductress? I’m way too old
for you.
Way
too old.”

“Okay, so how old are you, then?”

Mr O snorted. “Couple of thousand centuries. You?”

“Fourteen.”

“Exactly. I rest my case.”

“Anyway, that’s stupid. You can’t be a couple of
centuries old. That’s not possible.”

“There are more things in heaven and earth than are
dreamt of in your philosophy, kid,” said Mr O.

“Oh, yeah? Says who? And
don’t
call me ‘kid’.”

“Pal of mine name of William Shakespeare.”

Oh, good heavens,
I thought.
He thinks he’s centuries old and
a friend of Shakespeare’s. He’s a nutter
.

“I have my own money, you know Mr O…” I began
again.

“I know. You said. Lesson number one. Money can’t
buy you everything and you’d better believe me, it
won’t where we’re going,” he said as we rounded a
corner and I glimpsed the lights of a building ahead.
It was hard to see in the dark, but it looked like an old
fortress on top of a hill. The lights were on and cast a
warm glow out into the dark night. O
ur hotel,
I thought
as Mr O drove up and stopped the car.
At least it appears
that they’re going to hide me somewhere decent
.

“I can walk,” I said when Mr O opened the back of the
car. “Just get my baggage will you?”

Mr O laughed and mimicked me, saying, “Get my
baggage will you?” in a girlie manner as he held the
door open for me. He indicated the porch at the front
of the lodge as if to say that I should go in there. I took
a quick look around to see if I could escape. The pale
crescent moon behind the silhouettes of trees gave little
light, but I could just make out gardens all around,
although the shrubbery was dense black. I decided that
I’d have a better look in the morning and make a dash
for it when I had a better idea of where I was.

Mr O followed me up to the porch,
without
bringing
in my bag I noted. The door was opened by a tall,
black, fit-looking man with a shaved head and a
chiselled jaw line. In the combat gear he was wearing,
he had the appearance of a soldier, and like Mr O, he
was incredibly handsome. Buff, as Tigsy would say.

As soon as we got inside the wood-panelled
reception area and the man had closed the door, I ran
over and hid behind him. I didn’t like where I was. The
whole building looked shabby and smelt of mould and
mushrooms. On a battered table in a corner was a pot
plant with half of its leaves dried up through lack of
care. This wasn’t a place I wanted to stay in for a
moment longer than necessary.

“Quick, get the police,” I said as I pointed at Mr O.
“That man has kidnapped me.”

“Is that right?” chuckled the man in combat gear. I
nodded.

Mr O rolled his eyes as if he was exasperated, then
he examined his nails as if he was bored with me.
“Now why would you think that?” he asked.

“D’er? I’m in a strange country, brought here in a
strange car by a
stranger
. You do the maths.”

“You haven’t been kidnapped, Leonora,” said the
new man.

“How do you know my name? Oh
no
. You’re in on
it too. Who are you then?”

“My name is Mario. I shall be running the
programme.”