She stares at me. Not Ben, but me. She stares with her grey-green-blue eyes. The Lizard Queen. She glitters and glimmers and shimmers. She’s dressed in black and has bright red hair pinned up at each side of her head. Her skin is porcelain white, studded with jewels and painted with patterns of cobalt blue struck through with green and wisps of red. Her lips are red.
‘Bright red with the blood of insects,’ I say.
‘Eh?’ says Ben. ‘What wis that?’
‘She’s the Lizard Queen, but she’s dead. She’s in London, dead and gone.’
She passes us by.
‘It’s me,’ I say to her, following her. I take hold of her arm. ‘It’s me,’ I say as she turns to me. ‘I’m the one who ventured into the depths of the lizard realm with her Monsta and her prayers. It’s me. I knew your husband, the Lizard King.’
‘Excuse me?’ she says, pulling her arm free.
‘You’re dead,’ I say. ‘You were torn apart.’
She frowns and says, ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know you.’
She walks away and I stand there, watching her go.
‘Hey, old lady, what wis that all about, eh?’
‘She’s the Lizard Queen,’ I say.
‘What’s this lizard thing all of a sudden?’
‘The past creeping in.’
I see Monsta crawling round Ben’s neck, the shrew head peering from behind his ear, the worm arm slithering across his cheek. I reach out to stroke Monsta’s head but Monsta isn’t there. I stroke Ben’s cheek.
‘Ye alright, old lady?’
‘Ben,’ I say, my hand hovering next to his cheek. ‘Have you ever seen someone die? Someone you love?’
He eyes me for a moment and I fall into darkness, like Alice down the rabbit hole. When I wake, Ben is leaning over me, waving a book in my face.
‘Old lady, ye alright? Ye had me worried.’
I try to focus on his face, but the book waving makes me dizzy.
‘Ben,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to smell your book.’
He drops the book by his side.
‘I wis fanning ye. That’s what they do in the movies when people faint. They slap people too, but I didnae want to do that.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘Alright, everybody,’ Ben says to the people gathered around us. ‘Show’s over.’
‘Is she okay?’
‘She will be. I’m looking after her, now give us some space.’
They drift away. Sam slobbers on my face, licking me better.
‘I’m well looked after,’ I say, trying to get up.
‘Aye, take it easy now.’
Ben helps me sit up and I watch the drifting crowd, some people still staring at me as they walk off.
‘What am I doing on the ground?’
‘Ye fainted like a girl.’
‘Mac?’
‘Mac what?’
I shake my head.
‘Ye said Mac.’
‘Did I?’
‘Right, old lady, I’m taking ye home. I’ll get us a taxi. Mahler will be glad to see ye anyway.’
‘I’ve got to go to work.’
‘Not in this state. I’ll call in sick for ye.’
When we get back to the flat Mahler barks and paws at us, asking for his lunch. Ben feeds him as I lie on the couch.
‘Here,’ he says, coming back through, ‘drink some water. Yev had too much sun, old lady.’
‘I’m fine, Ben.’
‘Ye are now that I’m looking after ye.’
He sits at the table and rifles through the morning papers.
‘There’s more about this pet massacre business,’ he says.
‘I know.’
‘It says how people were scared, how it wis mercy killings before the bombs.’
Mahler comes through, licking his lips. He jumps onto the couch and lays his head on my lap. I stroke his ear.
‘But I dinnae buy it. I’d never kill my Sam, no matter what. I reckon it wis Nazis.’
‘Nazis?’
‘Aye, Nazis killed the pets wi’ their propaganda. Stirring up fear.’
‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘probably Nazis.’
London, Summer 1939
‘Mac, you’re Frankenstein’s monsta,’ said Goblin. ‘I’ll be the Martians, and Stevie’s the Nazis.’
‘I wanna be the Martians,’ said Stevie.
Goblin, Mac and Stevie had come to the abandoned worksite after school. Their den had rubble piled up on all sides to keep enemies out, with a fire pit in the middle. Stevie sat poking at the bits of charred wood from yesterday’s fire.
‘Chew it, Stevie,’ said Goblin. ‘You’re the Nazis. The den is London and the Nazis are invading, but the Martians and Frankenstein’s monsta eat them and then they fight at the end and Frankenstein’s monsta wins.’
‘Who’s Devil?’ said Mac.
‘Devil is the humans. Frankenstein protects Devil, then Devil fights Frankenstein and burns him in a windmill.’
‘That’s stupid,’ said Stevie.
‘The Martians are coming!’
Mac scrambled up the den walls and out of sight. Goblin stared at Stevie, who sighed and clambered out after Mac. Goblin gave Stevie a few seconds then she went next, Devil barking at her heels. She had rope dangling from her waist in a clumsy attempt to look like the invaders in The War of the Worlds. Skipping across the worksite rubble and machinery, imagining her legs to be spidery and nimble, she chased after Stevie, the lumbering Nazi. The ropes whipped around her. Devil barked furiously, convinced this was all for him, and snapped his jaw shut on one of the ropes. Goblin jerked backwards, her feet pulled out from under her. For a second she really was a Martian, floating. She felt she could float to the stars.
Goblin heard the swish of the ropes as she hit the ground. She lay, breath gone, staring at the clouds, catching the glint of a barrage balloon. Devil stood on her chest, licking her face as she struggled to breathe, unable to move. There was only silence. Devil stood alert, and bounded off. Goblin took an intake of breath, feeling an ache move through her body. She turned her head to the side and saw Devil disappear into a gaping hole.
‘Jesus,’ said Mac, staring down at Goblin.
‘Mac,’ said Goblin, ‘I didn’t even know that hole was there. You can’t see it from above.’
Devil came racing back out of the hole, snapping at a rat’s tail.
‘Goblin, you need to just—’
‘Shit, Mackenzie. That felt like flying.’
‘Well you’re not flying now.’
‘Ah, I’m alright.’
‘Goblin.’
Mackenzie reached to stop her, but Goblin stood up, feeling a warmth weave its way down her arm.
‘I’m fine. What’s the fuss?’
Goblin looked down and saw blood dripping from her arm.
‘Jesus. Martians sure can bleed.’
Mackenzie doubled over. He looked as if he was going to be sick, but laughed.
‘You’re the craziest girl I’ve ever met.’
‘I’m not a girl. I’m a goblin.’
Goblin stared at the sliver of metal that had gone through her arm.
‘Those damn Nazis laid a trap. Let’s get ’em!’
‘You need a doctor.’
‘Martians don’t need doctors.’
‘Goblins do.’
‘Ayaiyaaaaai!’
Goblin ran across the worksite, heading straight for Stevie, blood spattering everywhere. She landed on him, pummelling him.
‘You dirty milky, eh? Nazi traps can’t kill Martians.’
He sank his finger into the wound, and she was gone.
‘You sure faint like a girl,’ was the first thing Mackenzie said when she woke up. He ruffled her hair like she was a kid and he was an adult.
‘You’d faint like a girl too if a Nazi shoved his finger in your arm.’