Free Winging It by Annie Dalton Page B

But instead of letting themselves be crushed by all these depressing changes to their way of life, people somehow managed to spring up again like daisies which I thought was unbelievably amazing.
    I don’t want you to think we were just being time-tourists. Lola and I spent hours taking care of a really good-looking fireman, while his mates dug him out from under a pile of rubble.
    He was actually quite young. As Lola said, he was more of a fireboy really. His name was Stan and he’d been searching a bombed house for survivors when the roof fell in. He was in a lot of pain, but he kept up a stream of daft jokes.
    Finally the other firemen lifted him free. As the ambulance doors closed, we heard Stan yell, “Tell those two pretty girls to wait for me, do you hear?”
    “Poor Stan,” muttered one of his mates. “He’s really concussed.”
    I immediately jumped up, tugging down my dress as far as it would go.
    ” Lollie !” I protested. “I can’t believe I’ve been sitting here in this little dress and Stan the fireman could actually SEE me!”
    Then we heard a low growl in the distance.
    “Oh-oh, I think that’s a buzz bomb,” I said.
    “One flying bomb’s not so bad,” said Amber brightly.
    Ferdy looked nervous. “Actually, they send them in relays.”
    People were already hurrying for the nearest shelter.
    The siren began its stomach-churning wail.
    As the bomb came nearer, the air was literally juddering with vibration, as if it was compressing itself into some terrifying new element. I think Orlando saw how scared I was, because he suddenly grabbed my hand.
    “We’ll do this the easy way,” he yelled. “Touch your angel tags and focus on the shelter. On a count of three. One, two - three!”
    I obediently shut my eyes and FLASH! We were back underground, as everyone came fleeing down from the street.
    BOOM! The first buzz bomb exploded overhead.
    Celia appeared, looking wonderfully chic. “Chaos, isn’t it?” she said. “Let’s see what we can do for the poor dears, shall we?”
    In the middle of beaming angel vibes at the traumatised Londoners, I suddenly registered that Orlando was standing really close to me. I tried hard not to dwell on the fact that he’d recently held my hand.
    “How did you do that cool fast-forward trick?” I murmured.
    Orlando sighed. “Mel, you really ought to read your Handbook!”
    I sternly reminded myself to focus. It sounds a bit hippie-dippie, but transmitting angelic vibes in a crisis is actually just common sense. Negative emotions make it that much easier for the Opposition to home in.
    For some reason I kept looking up hopefully every time a new arrival came down into the shelter. At last the stream of humans gradually slowed to a trickle, and as the third buzz bomb exploded overhead, I finally realised what was bothering me.
    Molly and her mum. They weren’t here.
    In an instant of total, blinding clarity, I suddenly knew Molly was in danger.
    I’ve got to go to her , I thought.
    Unnervingly, Orlando read my thoughts and immediately put his foot down. “You know the score, Mel,” he said firmly. “No heroes, no stars. Just links in a divine chain. Those are the rules.”
    I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I’m not trying to be a hero, really I’m not. But Molly’s only six and she’s all alone in an air raid. I saw her. Orlando, it’s like I’m meant to save her or something. It’s -it’s -” I searched desperately for the right words, “A genuine cosmic emergency!”
    Orlando was not remotely impressed. “Remember that time outside the Sanctuary? Those agents had a cosmic emergency too. And the Opposition picked them all off like apples.”
    I totally lost my temper then. “Well, EXCUSE me,” I yelled. “But I think a little girl is more important than some old rule !”
    “Boo,” Lola whispered. “Everyone’s looking.”
    Celia’s angels were staring in horror. It was like being back at school, only a billion times