mean, I know there’s good bits because Mamma told me so – as did Papa and the Ancient Abbot. The RHM doesn’t seem so sure, but then I think he’s jealous. Weird how I
miss even him. It’s not what I expected, being here. I thought the World Beyond would be so exciting, but really it’s sort of grey. I don’t mean grey in colour –
although it is in parts -especially the buildings. I mean it feels grey, like there’s a heavy weight pressing down on my shoulders. I think it’s because they have no
Happiness.
Or at least they don’t seem to have a lot of it although Ma is generally always smiling. But I watch the people in the street and they don’t look so happy. I guess there is no
haze of Happiness and no one tending its fires. When I asked CeeCee and LeeLee they looked at me as if I were mad. They do that quite often. They do things differently in the World Beyond – too many
things to list them all.
They have all these amazing machines, for example, they even talk to one another by a machine called the ‘phone’, which is pretty cool. And they have this thing called a
‘computer’ which seems to do just about everything. It sits in LeeLee and CeeCee’s room and they said they use it to send messages to their friends. What is wrong with just going
and talking to their friends, that’s what I want to know! Although I wish I could use it to send a message to Papa, to tell him where he can come and get me. That’s got to be why no
one’s come for me – they can’t work out where I am.
So many machines and yet they can’t stop Time. Makes me think they should have been concentrating on that rather than on coming up with more mechanical things. Weird thing is, they have
all these people on the TV who talk about creams which can perform miracles and stop people from ageing. Perform miracles – what a joke! As if a cream can perform a miracle. It’s hard
enough to perform miracles if you’re a goddess and I should know.
I like the TV though, and the people on it – especially Oprah and The Simpsons . The Simpsons are
not like any family I have met before – for one thing, they’re yellow. Marge, though, is very kind and Homer reminds me of the Ancient Abbot. Not that the Ancient Abbot has the same
personality but he does get things wrong. Actually, he isn’t much like Homer at all. Homer gets pretty angry. That’s the other thing about people’s faces here – they all
look sort of tight.
CHAPTER 5
S imon Razzle smiled over the tops of his designer spectacles. He did not strictly need them, but they added a certain sang-froid.
‘Come, my dear,’ he purred. ‘There is no need to cry. A little nip here, a tuck there and you’ll be restored to your former self.’
Sitting on the opposite side of his imposing desk, the blonde woman dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
‘You really think so?’ she simpered, blue eyes awash with tears.
‘But of course,’ insisted Simon. ‘You have the bone structure. Your natural assets . . . ’
He said the same to all his patients but she was not to know that. She patted her blond curls. Dyed, of course, like her eyelashes. Under them, her forehead stretched too tight, testament to a
bad Botox job. Simon was the king of Botox; he knew just where to inject it, along with his impressive range of fillers, smoothers and plumper-uppers. Fake, the lot of them. But now the ultimate
cure was in sight. A wholly natural cure for ageing. A way to turn back the clock.
Simon drummed his fingers on the desk, impatient now to get rid of her. When the blonde looked at him, startled, he covered with a smooth smile.
‘Finger exercises,’ he said. ‘Excellent for youthful hands.’
‘Oh, really?’ she sounded intrigued. ‘I must try them some time.’
Surreptitiously, Simon pressed the concealed button located under his antique desk. A moment later, his secretary buzzed through. Simon raised a regretful eyebrow.
‘My next client has
miss even him. It’s not what I expected, being here. I thought the World Beyond would be so exciting, but really it’s sort of grey. I don’t mean grey in colour –
although it is in parts -especially the buildings. I mean it feels grey, like there’s a heavy weight pressing down on my shoulders. I think it’s because they have no
Happiness.
Or at least they don’t seem to have a lot of it although Ma is generally always smiling. But I watch the people in the street and they don’t look so happy. I guess there is no
haze of Happiness and no one tending its fires. When I asked CeeCee and LeeLee they looked at me as if I were mad. They do that quite often. They do things differently in the World Beyond – too many
things to list them all.
They have all these amazing machines, for example, they even talk to one another by a machine called the ‘phone’, which is pretty cool. And they have this thing called a
‘computer’ which seems to do just about everything. It sits in LeeLee and CeeCee’s room and they said they use it to send messages to their friends. What is wrong with just going
and talking to their friends, that’s what I want to know! Although I wish I could use it to send a message to Papa, to tell him where he can come and get me. That’s got to be why no
one’s come for me – they can’t work out where I am.
So many machines and yet they can’t stop Time. Makes me think they should have been concentrating on that rather than on coming up with more mechanical things. Weird thing is, they have
all these people on the TV who talk about creams which can perform miracles and stop people from ageing. Perform miracles – what a joke! As if a cream can perform a miracle. It’s hard
enough to perform miracles if you’re a goddess and I should know.
I like the TV though, and the people on it – especially Oprah and The Simpsons . The Simpsons are
not like any family I have met before – for one thing, they’re yellow. Marge, though, is very kind and Homer reminds me of the Ancient Abbot. Not that the Ancient Abbot has the same
personality but he does get things wrong. Actually, he isn’t much like Homer at all. Homer gets pretty angry. That’s the other thing about people’s faces here – they all
look sort of tight.
CHAPTER 5
S imon Razzle smiled over the tops of his designer spectacles. He did not strictly need them, but they added a certain sang-froid.
‘Come, my dear,’ he purred. ‘There is no need to cry. A little nip here, a tuck there and you’ll be restored to your former self.’
Sitting on the opposite side of his imposing desk, the blonde woman dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
‘You really think so?’ she simpered, blue eyes awash with tears.
‘But of course,’ insisted Simon. ‘You have the bone structure. Your natural assets . . . ’
He said the same to all his patients but she was not to know that. She patted her blond curls. Dyed, of course, like her eyelashes. Under them, her forehead stretched too tight, testament to a
bad Botox job. Simon was the king of Botox; he knew just where to inject it, along with his impressive range of fillers, smoothers and plumper-uppers. Fake, the lot of them. But now the ultimate
cure was in sight. A wholly natural cure for ageing. A way to turn back the clock.
Simon drummed his fingers on the desk, impatient now to get rid of her. When the blonde looked at him, startled, he covered with a smooth smile.
‘Finger exercises,’ he said. ‘Excellent for youthful hands.’
‘Oh, really?’ she sounded intrigued. ‘I must try them some time.’
Surreptitiously, Simon pressed the concealed button located under his antique desk. A moment later, his secretary buzzed through. Simon raised a regretful eyebrow.
‘My next client has
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