'Computer b.l.o.o.d.y couch potatoes,' bl.u.s.tered Clive Kirkham, 'with Chilly sauce!'

Determined not to let his smile crack, Christopher turned to the buffet and scooped up a tray of finger nibbles. 'Vol-au-vent?' he suggested, thrusting the tray under Kirkham's nose.

The MP glared. 'There's no such thing as a free lunch,' he declared and turned on his heel.

'Christopher.'

She was approaching through the guests, and, he had to hand it to her, she certainly looked the part with her new executive perm and new dark green executive suit. was approaching through the guests, and, he had to hand it to her, she certainly looked the part with her new executive perm and new dark green executive suit.

'There you are at last, Victoria. We were beginning to wonder...' He had just seen that she was being accompanied by Desmond Pennington.

She leant in close to Christopher and whispered, 'You don't have to serve the food, you know. The students are doing that.'

He hurriedly put the tray down and saw that she was giggling.

When she was in a good mood, it was generally a cause for concern.

'I think you know Mr Pennington?' she continued.

'Desmond, you remember Christopher Rice, our Marketing Facilitator.'

Desmond Pennington, tall, suave, in his early forties and wearing a dark suit, shook Christopher by the hand. 'Victoria and I have been talking long and hard,' he said. 'Most profitable.'

'I think you'll be surprised,' Victoria said with a wink and started to usher Mr Pennington towards the podium.

G.o.d, thought Christopher, what the h.e.l.l's she done now?

BOOM, BOOM. She was tapping the microphone and nearly deafening everybody. 'Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming today.' She was tapping the microphone and nearly deafening everybody. 'Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming today.'

Christopher saw Anthony bobbing up and down with astonishment, his MC material for the event already undermined by his new boss.

'It's an auspicious day for New World,' continued Victoria.

'We always look to the future...'

Bla, bla, bla, intoned Christopher to himself. Just get on with it. He glanced around at the attentive audience. There were flashes from the cameras. It was a perfect photo opportunity. If they only knew that the woman was obsessed.

She and the Chancellor too a Chancellor who was never on site. Her eminence grise eminence grise, who issued dictums in private conference with her as if from some other plane. Or was it the computer? The Chancellor and the self-regulating technological miracle he had created seemed indistinguishable. The computer was a vessel of power, a twentieth-century grail, dispensing knowledge, but making strange demands as well. Almost mystical, thought Christopher, and he sneered as Victoria treated the machine with slavish reverence. But in the right hands, Christopher was sure that its potential could be irresistible.

He was certain Victoria was a witch of some sort. Maybe one day the papers might get hold of that, but not quite yet. He still had things to do. The Chancellor needed information and he was the one who could provide it. He had wheels in play. In the meantime, he could humour Victoria Waterfield because she trusted him. And that way he would soon have the control and position he wanted.

She was still expounding her hopes to the politely petrifying gathering. Christopher looked up at the balcony overlooking the gallery. At first he could not make out the figure standing there. It was in the shadows at the back, staring down at them. A youth wearing what looked like a school uniform. As their eyes met, the youth registered a brief second of startled recognition. Then it simply melted away into the air like a ghost.

Christopher blinked several times, unable to take in the image. The figure was too young and did not wear gla.s.ses, yet it bore a striking resemblance to that devious whiz-kid Daniel Hinton.

There was a loud burst of applause as Victoria stepped back from the microphone and was replaced by the smiling Education Secretary. Christopher listened in mounting disbelief as Desmond Pennington announced that New World University was being formally recognized by the government as a Centre of Excellence. (Enthusiastic applause.) Furthermore, it would be receiving a substantial research grant in recognition of its achievement. (Exultant cheering.) 'Good for you, Victoria,' he muttered aloud. Tut that doesn't solve your other little problem, does it!'

7.

The Watch ordy sat on the bed and edged his head round the curtain.

GHis mum was on the phone and too busy to notice. She had told him not to look, but that made it much more exciting.

It was no good her telling him that it was all over, because he could still hear the sound. Even when it got dark, he could hear it. It went on and on.

Sshp, sshp, sshp, sshp without stopping, and it was starting to make him cross. He wanted to break something or throw something. without stopping, and it was starting to make him cross. He wanted to break something or throw something. Sshp, sshp, sshp. Sshp, sshp, sshp.

He couldn't sleep either, so his mum had got cross too and shouted at him and he shouted at everything because he hated it and he could shout much louder than she could. So she started to cry.

He was looking again now, when her arms slid in behind him for a hug. He snuggled back into her long yellow hair, but she wasn't looking at him anyway: she was looking out of the boat window too.

They were still there across the water. Kate could see the two figures in yellow and green, sitting motionless on the boats at the other side of the basin to the Mananda Mananda. That d.a.m.ned tinny beat from their headphones went on and on, driving her crazy.

'No, Gordy.' She pulled him away from the window and plonked him down on the floor of the cluttered cabin. She took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. 'I told you to play down there while I'm talking.' She tugged the curtain shut and gave him a book to look at. Then she picked up the phone again.

'Sorry, Beth. Distractions.'

Her friend Beth, another one-parent family, was probably used to these phone calls by now. All Kate expected was to hear sympathetic noises from the other end of the line, but at least Beth was a listener.

'Look, Beth, they're still there!'

'Who's that?'

For G.o.d's sake, thought Kate. I've told you before. 'Two of those New World weirdos.'

'Chillys?'

'Yes, whatever they're called.' She wasn't sure that Beth believed her. Her voice had taken on a terribly terribly patient tone. patient tone.

'Now what about the police? Have you tried calling them?'

'Of course I've called the police again. And the council.

They think I'm crazy.'

'Now come on...'

'But the Chillys just vanish when anyone comes.'

There was a pause. 'I see,' said Beth.

'But they're soon back. I mean, why pick me?'

'Are you really sure it's you? You have been under an awful lot of pressure lately.'

'Of course it's me,' Kate snapped. 'I'm not imagining it!'

She remembered Gordy and moved further down the boat to the bathroom. 'I don't know what they want. And I don't know what to do, Beth. I've no one else to talk to.'

'Right.'

Kate looked through the window. The Chillys were still there, staring across the basin at the boat. Sshp, sshp, sshp. Sshp, sshp, sshp.

Then she realized that Beth was saying something. There was an inordinate burst of crackling on the line.

'...if you're that desperate.'

'What? Sorry, this line's terrible.'

'I said, your father. Maybe he's the person to get something done.'

The idea brought Kate out in a cold sweat. 'My dad? Oh G.o.d, no. I couldn't do that.' She groped for excuses. 'It's at least six years since I even spoke to him.' She sat down on the closed loo seat and started to wallow. 'Look, the computer keeps crashing, so I can't work from home. And that d.a.m.n noise all the time from their headphones. It's just wearing me down.' She lowered her voice. 'And it's disturbing Gordy. He can't stay here.'

'Oh, well that's simple enough,' said Beth. 'He can come here for as long as he likes.'

Kate hadn't even hoped for anything other than a little moral support. 'Would you? I mean really, Beth?'

'Course. The demolition duo'll be made up. They love sleepovers. For as long as it takes. No worries.'

'You're wonderful, Beth. But soon, please. He can't stay here. He just can't.'

'Soon as you like. Just throw his essentials into a bag. But you should come too.'

Kate shook her head. 'No, I can't. I must stay put. That would be like giving in.'

'No surrender, eh Kate?' said Beth. 'Jesus, you're a fighter.

Must be in the family.'

'I don't know,' Kate said. 'Look, thanks. I'll have him ready by this afternoon. Thanks, Beth. We'll see you.'

She clicked off the phone and almost ran the length of the narrow boat. 'Gordy? Guess what? You're going to have a real treat...' She stopped. The main cabin was empty.

She flew up the steps out of the door.

Gordy was sitting on his swing on the bank. He lifted a stick and took aim. ' Kerpow! Kerpow! Kerpow! Kerpow! ' '

Kate saw red. This was her family. This was what she hated. She yelled, 'No, Gordy! Not that!' And she was off the boat and grabbing the stick from him before he could even grin. He knew what he was doing. She forced her anger back in. She had to be reasonable. 'Come on, darling. Not guns. I told you before. Please, no guns. Now play inside until Auntie Beth gets here.'

She bundled him unceremoniously back into the Mananda Mananda.

Across the oily water of the basin, the two watchers sat staring, unmoving. 'b.l.o.o.d.y Chillys!' she yelled. She grabbed a piece of wood from the deck and flung it uselessly in their direction. 'Leave us alone!'

They stared. Sshp, sshp, sshp, sshp... Sshp, sshp, sshp, sshp...

Kate turned away in frustrated despair. 'Leave us alone,'

she repeated to herself.

It wasn't easy to wave him off. He had dragged Aloysius, his bear, round the boat, saying goodbye to everything as if he was going for ever. 'You know how to play on this, don't you?' complained Kate.

'Goodbye bath, goodbye bed, goodbye computer.'

'Don't worry, they'll still all be here when you get back.'

'Goodbye Grandad.'

Grandad sat on a shelf in a cheap plastic frame, schoolmasterish with a clipped militaristic moustache and a look that appeared preoccupied with business elsewhere.

Typical, Kate complained. She wasn't quite sure why he didn't live at the back of a bottom drawer. Yet she had even got quite upset once when Gordy had knocked Grandad to the floor with his football.

'Sorry, Grandad,' said Gordy, who was upset too, and gave Grandad a dried apricot.

Today, rather to her horror, Grandad looked terribly solid and reliable.

As she bundled Gordy off the boat with his bags, the four-year-old (nearly five!) looked across the water and said, 'Goodbye...'

She clamped a hand across his mouth. 'You dare!'

'I was saying goodbye swing,' he complained emphatically.

Not daring to look back, she prayed the Chillys would not follow. When she reached the car park at the top of the towpath, Beth was already waiting in the car with the demolition duo.

'That phone call,' Beth said. 'You know which one. Just make it, will you?'

Kate hugged Gordy tight, both reluctant and relieved to let him go. He clambered into the back giggling with the others and didn't even turn to wave goodbye to her as they drove away. Only Aloysius stared, b.u.t.ton-eyed, through the receding back window.

Kate walked slowly back down to the narrow boat.

Aloysius had been her bear before Gordy purloined him. He was battle-scarred now, but she could remember when her dad had won him in a shilling raffle and he was as big as she was.