Stravaganza: City Of Stars Part 17

Georgia realised that he must think the handsome art book shop on the corner, labelled 'British Museum', was their destination. What on earth was he going to think when he saw the real thing?

'Just a tiny bit further,' she said encouragingly, leading him along Great Russell Street past the black railings. Suddenly they were at the gates and Falco saw the museum in all its colonnaded splendour. He gasped.

'But it is a palace!' he exclaimed. 'What mighty Prince or Duke lives there?'

'None,' said Georgia, 'but I'm glad you're impressed.' She guided Falco across the forecourt, full of tourists and pigeons. He stopped by the ma.s.sive bronze head at the side and paused for a long time.

'Is it a fragment?' he asked. 'The original statue must have been huge. Where is the rest of it?'

'That's all there is,' explained Georgia. 'The sculptor made it that way.'

There was still a long way for him to go, up the flight of steps to the main entrance. By the time he got to the top, Falco was exhausted. Nevertheless, when Georgia told him that what they were looking for would be on the first floor, he set off gamely for the wide marble staircase.

'Wait,' said Georgia, concerned by how tired he looked. 'There must be a lift; there always is nowadays.'

An attendant heard her and came over to them. 'The lifts are over there, Miss, just before the Great Court. But wouldn't you like a wheelchair for your friend? They're just over here.'

He led them round a corner where ranks of folded wheelchairs sat just waiting to be taken.

'How much is it?' whispered Georgia, who was getting seriously alarmed by the cost of taking Falco out and about. Thank goodness Maura had given her some money.

'It's free, Miss,' smiled the attendant. 'Just bring it back when you've finished with it.'

He took out a chair and unfolded it and showed them how to work the brakes. Falco was thrilled. He put the walking sticks carefully between his knees.

'Will it go by itself now?' he asked.

Georgia remembered telling him about electric wheelchairs.

'Not this one, son,' said the attendant. 'See, you have to push the wheels with your hands or get your friend to push you by the handles.'

'I'll push,' said Georgia firmly. 'Thanks for all your help.'

As they moved off, she heard him say quietly to another attendant, 'Poor kid. I wonder why he doesn't have one of his own? He can scarcely walk.'

Georgia moved quickly away, pus.h.i.+ng Falco to the lift. It was very small, with not much room for anyone else once they had got inside; fortunately no one else joined them. After a couple of journeys up and down, because the ground floor was confusingly called 2 and the first floor 6, they arrived at the upper galleries. Georgia pushed Falco out of the lift and then stopped to peer in his face. He hadn't said anything while they were going up and down and Georgia had been muttering about the muddly labelling. Now she saw he was white and terrified.

'Oh, it's all right, Falco,' she said. 'It's just another one of our machines. You know, to get you from one place to another. People use them all the time. It's perfectly safe.'

What would he make of the transporters on Star Trek, she wondered. To distract him, she moved forward and they came to a window looking out over the internal Great Court.

'The Queen of Sheba' proclaimed a poster over the door and people were going in.

'Is that her palace?' whispered Falco, round-eyed.

'No,' said Georgia. 'It's a special exhibition about her. Look, here we are at the galleries. I'll just ask that attendant which way for the Etruscans.'

They had to go through a long gallery full of displays about money and Falco stopped several times to exclaim over the big bra.s.s scales for weighing coins. 'I have seen these in Giglia,' he said. 'My family's fortune comes from banking, you know.'

Then they were in Room 69 and were met by a terrifying marble group of a man stabbing a bull in the neck, his little dog leaping up to lick the marble blood as it streamed from the stab-wound. Falco stared at it for ages.

'Mithras,' read Georgia. 'Roman, second century AD.'

'There is one like that in our palace in Santa Fina,' said Falco in a low voice. 'It is in a courtyard I'll show you next time we are there. We say it is Reman, of course.

Eventually they reached Room 71, Italy before the Roman Empire, and began their search for a winged horse. Falco was by now wanting to wheel himself, so the two of them went in different directions. Suddenly Falco called out 'Georgia come and look at these!'

She hurried over to see what he had found. There were four bronzes, each about four inches high, showing boys and their horses. The label read: 'Four bronze statuettes of boys dismounting from their horses, from the rim of a Campanian urn. Etrusco-Campanian, about 500480 BC. Probably made at Capua. The boys appear to be taking part in an ancient Greek race in which the riders dismounted and ran beside their horses in the final stretch.'

The boys were all naked, with long hair tied back in a very girly style, but they were broad-shouldered and muscular and rode bareback. They were all dismounting from the right.

'Aren't they wonderful?' said Falco. 'You know the Stellata is supposed to have come from a race like that? Our ancestors the Ra.s.senans we call them used to race in a straight line and dismount for the last bit. The winners were the team whose horse and rider both crossed the line first.'

But it was elsewhere in the room that they found the flying horse. Not a model, but a picture on a black bowl. And again in a drawing under a museum notice with the chronology of the Etruscans. It was a representation of two winged terracotta horses standing side by side very close together and found at Tarquinia.

Georgia and Falco made their way slowly back to Islington after hot dogs and Pepsis from the stand outside the museum. The Talian was completely overwhelmed by all the experiences of the day and was so exhausted that he let Georgia undress him and put his Talian nights.h.i.+rt back on. By tacit agreement they left Russell's boxers. Falco had no trouble at all falling asleep on Georgia's bed once she gave him back the ring. She watched him disappear, turning pale and see-through; she didn't dare go with him and had to hope he would stravagate safely on his own.

A sound from the bed woke Luciano, though it was still night. Falco sat straight up in bed staring ahead of him. He looked down at the lace on his nights.h.i.+rt and began to tremble. Luciano sat beside him and put an arm round him.

'What happened?' he asked.

'It was ... beyond all describing,' said the boy. 'A world of marvels.'

He twisted the silver ring on his finger.

'And did you feel any better?' asked Luciano.

'It was as you said,' said Falco. 'My leg was not mended. But I felt strong most of the time. And I'm sure that a place like that would have the magic I need to make me better.'

'Not magic science,' said Luciano in the dark, and remembered how he had once said the same to Rodolfo. Only now he was not so sure.

Chapter 17.

Translation It was hard for Georgia to sit and watch Falco disappear from the room. All her instincts screamed at her to grab her talisman and plunge after him. But she knew that Luciano would be waiting to receive him back in Remora and she didn't dare disappear herself for the afternoon. In fact, she could hear Maura calling her now. She would have to wait till tonight to find out what had happened at Santa Fina.

'Ah, Georgie,' said Maura, putting her head round the door. 'I thought I heard you come back. How was the British Museum?'

'Good,' said Georgia. 'I made lots of notes.' She waved her notebook vaguely in her mother's direction.

'Why have you got Nana's old walking sticks up here?' asked Maura, frowning. Georgia started guiltily. The sticks were still propped against the bed.

'I was using them for this creative extension we have to do for English,' she said quickly, surprised at how easily the lie came. 'We have to write something in the holidays from Richard the Third's point of view as a cripple.' Thank goodness it was her set Shakespeare play for GCSE.

'Disabled person,' corrected Maura automatically. 'That's all right then, but you should have asked.'

'Sorry,' said Georgia. 'I didn't think you'd mind.'

'I don't,' said Maura. 'But aren't you overdoing it a bit? First Cla.s.sCiv coursework and now English. It is the first day of the holidays, remember.'

'And tomorrow I'm off to Devon for two weeks,' said Georgia. 'I don't want to spend my time with Alice doing schoolwork, do I?'

Maura looked at her closely. 'I suppose not.' Then, 'You're not wearing your eyebrow ring. Have you got tired of it?'

'No,' said Georgia. 'It was itching a bit, so I thought I'd leave it off for a while and put some surgical spirit on it.'

'It looks nice without,' said Maura. 'And it might be better not to wear it in Devon. Alice's dad might think you're a punk. Your hair's getting longer too. I'm surprised you didn't want to get it cut before going to Alice's.'

Georgia sighed. 'I'll put the ring back in as soon as the itching has gone. I shouldn't think Alice's dad will even notice it. And I don't care about my hair while I'm away. There'll be no one to see it but him and Alice. I'll get it cut when I come back.'

Merla's wings were drooping. She wasn't getting enough exercise and she still missed her mother. Because of her extraordinary growth rate, she was no longer in need of Starlight's milk, but she was not eating well and she was looking thin.

'You'll have to take her out at night,' Nello told Enrico, who was still living up at the palace.

Enrico had come to the same conclusion. It was a risk but there was no point in having a flying horse if it couldn't fly.

'I'll take her tonight,' he said.

Georgia finished her packing and went to bed early. At least, she tried to. But Russell had other ideas. He was lounging in his doorway in that way she so dreaded. It meant he had nothing to do and was looking for an excuse to torment her.

And it appeared he had some new ammunition.

'Where'd you pick up the boyfriend?' he asked casually.

Georgia froze. 'I don't know what you mean,' she said, as calmly as she could.

'Maz saw you,' he said. 'In the Caledonian Road with some spastic. What is it with you? Freaks and geeks, you seem to attract them. I suppose it's because you're one yourself.'

Georgia said nothing. It was a tactic that sometimes worked. Russell could get bored and leave her alone. Or he might be infuriated by it.

'Maz said he was just a kid,' he persisted. 'A crippled kid. I wonder what Maura would say about that? Creepy old men and freaky little boys. What next?'

It had taken Falco a long time to get back to sleep after he stravagated back to Santa Fina. He wanted to hold on to Georgia's silver ring but Luciano took it from him.

'You don't want to end up back in England by mistake. Now, I'll stay with you till you're asleep and then I'll go to my room.'

Georgia had half hoped that she would find herself waking in Talia in Falco's palace, since she had left from there when she last stravagated. But her flying horse took her to their usual place of entry in the hayloft of the Ram.

She had to borrow a horse from Paolo and ride up to Santa Fina. The servant who took the horse from her and the other one who let her in both looked puzzled. As far as they were concerned, this young Remoran was sleeping late inside the palace and they couldn't understand how he was arriving for the second time, on a horse, when he had turned up the previous evening with his companion in a carriage.

But the servant let Georgia go up to her room and she opened the dividing door that led into Falco's. He was still asleep, his face pale and drawn on the large heap of pillows. The door to the room on the other side opened and Luciano came in, with dark circles under his eyes. He saw Georgia and smiled.

'You did it!' he said. 'Falco told me all about it. He thought it was all wonderful.' He gave her back the silver ring.

'Even the traffic?' asked Georgia, fixing the ring back in.

'Even the traffic,' he said.

Georgia sat down on a low chair, suddenly overwhelmed by the prospect of what she believed she must do.

'I reckon we've got two weeks,' she said, 'if I'm lucky and can get here every night from Alice's. He'd be going back to Giglia after the race anyway. And now that Russell's damaged my talisman once, I daren't leave it any longer than necessary. So we've got a fortnight to teach him everything he needs to know about living in the twenty-first century.'

'We can do it,' said Luciano. 'We'll do it together.'

The next two weeks were the busiest in Georgia's life. She left for Devon the next day, travelling down on the train with Alice. Alice's father, Paul, was waiting to meet them in his 4x4.

He was nice, bearded and tweedy and not a bit like Ralph, but friendly and funny. If Georgia hadn't spent time in palaces in Talia she might have been overawed by his house, but as it was she accepted it. It was a big red-brick farmhouse, with outbuildings and stables and a paddock. The stables housed Alice's horse, a tall brown mare called Truffle.

The girls went straight to see her, before unpacking.

'She's gorgeous,' said Georgia, enviously. It was all very well having all the horses of the Ram's stable available to ride in Talia, but she would never have one of her own in real life. And here was Alice, a girl of her own age and a student at her school, with her very own horse just waiting for her all the holidays and any weekend she could get down. Whereas Georgia would have to content herself with a visit to Jean's stable once a fortnight.

There was another occupant of the stables. 'Meet Conker,' said Paul. In the stall next to Truffle was a chestnut gelding, very like the Reman Arcangelo.

'Where did he come from?' asked Alice, as surprised as Georgia.

'He's my neighbour's,' explained Paul. 'You know, Jim Gardiner down the road. He's away on holiday and was going to put Conker out to livery but I said we'd look after him if my daughter's friend could ride him. I was right, wasn't I? You would like to ride while you're here, wouldn't you, Georgia? Alice tells me you're pretty good. Do you think you could manage him?'

Georgia was speechless with joy and could only nod. This was going to be heaven.

The girls fell into a very happy routine. Georgia's room was next to Alice's and she was relieved to find that her friend was not an early riser. It meant that Georgia could usually manage to get at least a couple of hours sleep after her return from Talia.

By the time that the two girls came down in the morning, Paul had been up for hours and gone off to his work as a solicitor in the nearest town. Georgia and Alice made huge brunches of pancakes and fruit and eggs and then spent the rest of the day riding.

They took Truffle and Conker out on to the moors for hours, and when they had had enough, they let the horses graze while they lay on the springy turf picnicking on the doorstep sandwiches they had brought in their saddlebags.

It was a magical time, the days long and sunny, when the girls talked endlessly about their families. Alice explained about her parents' marriage. They had met at university. Her mother, Jane, had been a political activist, leader of the Student Union. And no one had ever expected her to get together with Paul, the only son of a local middle-cla.s.s family.

'They broke up soon after I was born,' said Alice. 'And when my grandparents died, my dad moved back down to Devon. I've been coming to this house for as long as I can remember.'

'Do they get on, your mum and dad?' asked Georgia.

'Not too badly now,' said Alice. 'The last big quarrel was about my secondary school. Dad wanted me to go to a girls' boarding school near here and my mum was against it. No private schooling for her daughter she's a Labour councillor now, you know. She insisted that the local comprehensive was good enough; Mum and I had moved to Barnsbury by then. They had a huge row and by the time I started at the boarding school they were hardly speaking. But as it happened, I wasn't happy there and Mum got her way in the end and moved me to Barnsbury Comp.'

'Do you think she was right?' asked Georgia.

'Well, it's not bad, is it?' said Alice. 'The difficult thing is that I feel I have two different lives.'

'I suppose that's true of everyone whose parents have split up.'

'Yes, but if you think of the ones in our cla.s.s Selina, Julie, Tas.h.i.+, Callum, for a start they've all got both parents in London. When they spend a weekend with their dads it's not such a performance. It takes hours for me to get here and I only have one full day on a weekend. But I love it so much. It's what keeps me from going mad when I'm in the city. I'd like to live here all the time really, but Mum would never have that. But it makes me feel different from everyone else; my dad's not like other people's in the school. I'd die if they knew what our life here is like. You're the only person from school I've ever brought here.'

Georgia felt honoured. She thought that perhaps it was easier for her, having a dad she could hardly remember. She told Alice about her family too, especially Russell. Alice knew him of course, at least by sight, but she surprised Georgia now by telling her that there were several girls in their form who quite fancied him.