“Hmm. And what about the man from Wiltshire Jams? There was a picture of you in a café looking deep into his eyes.”
“Yes, I know exactly the occasion you are talking about.” Mr. Black smiled. “I can’t believe Hunroe was photographing me then. The old man’s name is Sam. We call him Jammy Sam. He’s my uncle. I met him for a coffee, and he got a bit of dust in his eye. He wanted me to see whether I could get it out for him. I could show you some family photographs, if you like.”
Micky nodded. “Hmm.”
Molly interrupted. “Micky, I promise you, Black is fine. I’ve seen inside his head. Really, he’s good. You don’t need to worry.” Micky tilted his head to one side and considered the situation.
“If you say so, Molly.”
A few steps later, they were walking into Black’s hotel apartment. Molly recognized the French windows that she’d seen before from the outside. It was far fancier than Molly had imagined.
The sitting room was large, with a white carpet. There were two black doors at either end, and stone Indian sculptures of gods stood on polished stone stands along the walls. Some wore crowns of gold, others golden necklaces and earrings. One section of the wall was covered with pendulums—gold, silver, and copper; some pendulums encrusted with precious stones were draped all over the walls. Two huge mirrors on each end of the room made the space seem even bigger, and a fire burned in a black slate hearth framed by a white marble fireplace. A strange, swirling wire bush of a lampshade hung in the center of the room like a metal wasp’s nest, and lit scented candles filled the air with the warm smell of frankincense. Three white sofas were arranged around a low silver table that was piled high with books. In the middle of the coffee table was a golden sculpture of a goddess doing a yogic pose. And on each of the walls to the right and left hung strange portraits of women with two faces on the same head.
“Those pictures remind me of Miss Hunroe and her two-faced spinster friends,” Micky observed.
“Yes,” Black replied. “But the ladies in these pictures seem ugly on the outside but are beautiful people underneath—so it’s the reverse. They are Picassos, by the way.” Then he took off his wet coat and shoes.
A woman in a black uniform came in with a tray of delicate chocolates, which she put on the table, and some velvet slippers that she gave to Black. She took his coat and shoes.
“Glad you’re back, Mr. Black,” she said. “I was starting to worry.” She smiled at Leonard and at AH2. “Nice to meet you.”
“Kookaburra sitting in an old gum tree,” Black said mysteriously.
“Oh, good. Very glad to hear that,” the woman said.
“And thanks for the chocolates, Dot. Just what we need. Yum, those are the toffee fondant ones, aren’t they?” Black picked up the silver tray and offered one to Molly.
“Yes, Mr. Black. And that nice baker from Harrow’s dropped off some of those extra-special croissants he makes. So you’ll be happy at breakfast tomorrow.”
“Oh, well done, Dot. You are an angel. Looks like there’ll be a few of us for supper. Is it possible to have lobster?”
“Righty-o, sir.” Dot began to go. “By the way, Lily is a bit, erm…well, let’s say hot under the collar.” With that she went out.
At the same time, the double doors on the left of the room opened. There stood Lily Black in a black lace dress.
“Dad?” she said through gritted teeth. “Is that you?”
“Kookaburra sitting in an old gum tree,” said Black. “That’s our code,” he explained. “Just in case someone has morphed into me.”
“Who are these weird guys?” Lily asked, staring rudely at the two strangers in the room. “He looks like he thinks he’s James Bond, and he looks like he thinks he’s a reggae singer.”
“Cool down, Lily,” said Black. “These, believe it or not, are the twins you saw. Meet Molly”—he gestured to AH2—“and Micky, who at the moment is Leonard.”
Lily didn’t step forward to shake hands. Instead she scowled at Petula.
“We don’t know how to change back to ourselves,” Molly started to explain. “But luckily your dad said he’d teach us. In fact, we’re a bit desperate. We left our bodies yesterday, and we’re feeling a bit—”
“Discombobulated,” Micky suggested.
“Don’t some people find meegoing impossible?” Lily commented with a malicious glint in her eye. “It’s not easy, you know,” she said coldly to AH2 and Leonard. “So don’t get your hopes up.”
Fifteen
“Lily, Lily, please. If you can’t be helpful or nice, just go to your room.” Black sat down on one of the white sofas and invited Molly and Micky to sit on another. “Molly, Micky, make yourselves comfortable.”
Lily slumped down into a brown leather chair in the corner of the room and sulkily folded her arms. “Morphing, morphing, morphing,” she muttered, kicking the bottom of the chair with her heels. “And saving the world. All day long, it’s all you ever do.”
“All right,” Black started, ignoring Lily. “So meegoing is something you get the knack for.”
“If you’re lucky,” Lily interrupted.
“Lily!” After a very stern look at his daughter, Black continued. “Just because you can’t morph, don’t be jealous!”
“Thanks!” Lily replied furiously. “Maybe if you’d take some time to teach me, I’d be able to.”
Black went on. “It requires a knack, a skill. But contrary to what Lily is suggesting, I’m sure you’ll both get the hang of it immediately.” Lily smiled to herself as though she knew otherwise. Outside the skies lit up as another bout of lightning and thunder began. Petula dived under a cushion.
“Did you make a copy of the morphing lessons?” Molly as AH2 asked. “If we could read them, maybe it would be easier.” Black shook his head.
“I’m afraid I didn’t do that. Too risky. All sorts of people would be able to morph. There would be chaos.”
“You mean I might find the lessons and learn,” Lily grumbled. “And you wouldn’t want me learning any of that stuff, would you? Meanie,” she added under her breath. Black ignored her. She leaned back and began to turn the light switch off and on and off and on so that the metal wasp’s-nest lampshade glowed brightly, then dimmed, over and over.
“So back to you. How to do it,” Black elaborated, trying not to notice what Lily was doing. “All you need is to quiet your minds. You have to hold quite a few thoughts in your mind at once. Are you ready to do that?”
“Ready to juggle a hundred thoughts, if that’s what’s needed,” Molly said.
“Good. Well, I suppose the way back to your selves is a bit like a recipe with different ingredients. Get all the ingredients together, and then put them on the heat. I’ll tell you what the heat is in a minute. The first thing to realize is this. If you think about it, you haven’t lost your intellectual being. Both of you are in control of your minds. Even though you look like two men, you can actually remember everything of your own lives as Molly and Micky, can’t you?”
“At the moment they can,” Lily piped up like a poison-spitting jack-in-the-box.
“That’s it, Lily. You’ve been warned. Go.”
Grumpily, Lily slid off her chair and went to another room, slamming the door behind her.
“Sorry about that,” Black apologized. “Now where was I? Yes, so you have your mental selves. What you are missing are your physical selves. To get back to your bodies, you have to imagine them. What they look like and what they feel like when you’re inside them.” Black coughed and shut his eyes. His voice became like a hypnotic teacher.