Pandora Read Free

advert had seemed a blessing at the time. If only Martin could settle, they could all be happy out here in the country.
    As Mr Tooke looked at his son, a strange rattling sound caught his attention. They both looked in puzzlement at the glass of water on the bedside cabinet. It was trembling; the water was spilling over the top, yet the rest of the room was motionless. The rattling got worse, until the glass was violently swept aside as though struck by an invisible hand.
    A hot wind blew around Martin’s bed, whipping at the covers and tugging at his hair. Martin tried to leap up but a pale blue light appeared around his body, enveloping him completely. “Dad!” he screamed in shock and fear. He stared in horror at his arms, which were glowing blue, as was the rest of his body.
    His father tried to reach out and grab his son, but he too was enveloped in the pulsing blue light. He couldn’t move or even shout for help. All he could do was watch helplessly as the light around his son intensified and lifted the hysterical boy from the bed.
    There was an explosion and a tornado appeared, swirling over the trembling boy and obscuring the ceiling and walls of the bedroom. Blue lightning shot out of the tornado, arcing themselves into the furniture without leaving a mark. One struck Martin on the leg and stayed, almost as though it had grabbed hold of the boy. More lightning bolts leapt down and took hold of Martin, grasping his defenceless body.
    With a roar of thunder, the bolts retracted, dragging Martin upward into the swirling tornado, his body reducing in size as though he were being pulled at unbelievable speed to a distant place. His bed followed, then his wardrobe, all his books and toys and even the posters on his walls, as though the tornado was removing every last bit of Martin’s existence from the world. The tornado slammed shut, leaving the room dark and cold.
    Mr Tooke blinked and looked around the spare room, wondering why he had walked in. There was nothing in the room except some old furniture and the suitcases he and Rita used on their holidays. He surprised himself by feeling a few tears in his eyes. He had hoped one day to have a child, and this would have been the room his son or daughter would have had, but it had never happened. He had thought he had got over the disappointment years ago, but maybe he hadn’t.
    Wiping his hand over his face, Mr Tooke walked out of the room, turning off the light. The moonlight shining through the window illuminated a single thread hanging from the ceiling–the sort of thread a small boy would hang a model spaceship from. But there was no ship and no boy and never had been. Just the thread, slightly warm to the touch and burnt at the end.

Chapter Four
     
     
    Seven weeks later, Pandora and her family were on their way to Willowcombe Clatford.
    After the argument in the twins’ bedroom, Mr Laskaris had started applying in and around the village for various posts and, by pure luck, had found a similar job to what he was already doing–administrative manager of a medium-sized company. The money was reasonable and the job respectable.
    The impending move had put Mrs Laskaris in her element. She started packing clothes, abandoned this to sort the ornaments, left the ornaments to concentrate on kitchen utensils and finally ignored the kitchen to whine continually that she was the only one doing any real work, thus making life hell for everyone.
    Mr Laskaris called it Mother’s Martyrdom. Pandora called it being a drama queen and a royal pain in the neck.
    Eventually, however, the packing was done and moving day arrived. The removal men loaded their van, the family climbed into their elderly, battered car and they left the urban decay of Lowell for the greener, safer pastures of Willowcombe Clatford. No one came to see them off. Lowell didn’t encourage neighbourly concern.
    They drove for the last time through the grimy town centre. Even before midday, the drunks were