Shopaholic to the Stars
Page 25
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“Twenty-three … twenty-two …” The whole crowd is chanting by now.
“Where’s Tarkie?” I say over the noise. “He should be here to enjoy it!”
Suze shrugs. “Must be with the technical guys.”
“Five … four … three … two … one … ladies and gentlemen … The Surge!”
A roar of cheers breaks out as the fountain spurts up from the middle of the lake and hits the height of …
Oh. OK. Well, it’s about five feet. It’s not that high for a fountain called The Surge. But maybe it’ll go higher?
Sure enough, it slowly rises up to about twelve feet, and there’s a renewed cheering from the crowd. But as I look at Suze, she seems horrified.
“Something’s gone wrong!” she exclaims. “It should be about five times that height.”
The water falls back down; then, as though with a massive effort, it pushes itself up to about fifteen feet. It drops a little, then rises again.
“Is that it?” the earl is saying contemptuously. “Could do better myself with a hose. What did I tell you, Marjorie?”
Now there’s as much laughing in the crowd as there is cheering. Every time the fountain lifts, there’s an outburst of cheering, and every time it drops down, everyone says, “Ahhh!”
“It’s the water pressure,” I say, suddenly remembering. “Tarkie said there was a problem.”
“He’ll be devastated.” Suze’s eyes are bright with tears. “I can’t believe it. I mean, look at it. It’s pathetic!”
“No it’s not!” I say at once. “It’s brilliant. It’s … subtle.”
The truth is, it does look pathetic.
But then there’s an almighty bang! and a stream of water surges right up into the air, to what seems like a hundred feet.
“There you are!” I yell, and clutch Suze in excitement. “It’s working! It’s amazing! It’s fantastic! It’s—ahh!” I break off with a strangled yell.
Something’s gone wrong. I don’t know what. But this isn’t right.
A mass of water is falling at speed toward us, like a water cannon. We stare, transfixed—then it splats all over three people behind me, and they start screaming. A moment later, the fountain fires another water bomb into the air, and we all start holding our hands above our heads. Another moment later and there’s another splat, and two more people are drenched.
“Minnie!” I call anxiously, waving my arms. “Get away!” But Ellie is already shepherding the children back up the steps.
“Women and children to safety!” the earl is thundering. “Abandon ship!”
It’s mayhem. People are running in all directions, trying to dodge the falling water. I manage to get up the slippery bank, then suddenly see Tarkie, standing apart from the crowd, his shirt soaked.
“Off! Off!” he’s shouting into his walkie-talkie. “Turn everything off!”
Poor Tarkie. He looks stricken. He looks like he might cry. I’m about to go and give him a hug when Suze comes running up, her eyes glowing with sympathy.
“Tarkie, never mind.” She throws her arms around him. “All the best inventions have glitches at first.”
Tarkie doesn’t reply. He looks too devastated to speak.
“It’s not the end of the world,” Suze tries again. “It’s just one fountain. And the idea is still brilliant.”
“Brilliant? Catastrophe, more like.” The earl is stepping forward over the puddles. “Waste of time and money. How much did this fiasco cost, Tarquin?” He’s jabbing with his shooting stick as he talks. I feel like jabbing him. “Thought your fountain was supposed to entertain the troops, not drown the troops!” He gives a short, sarcastic laugh, but no one else joins in. “And now that you’ve bankrupted the place and made us a laughingstock, maybe you’d like to take a few lessons in running a historic house properly? What?”
I glance at Tarquin and flinch. He’s turned puce with humiliation, and his hands are nervously rubbing against each other. My chest starts heaving with indignation. His father is awful. He’s a bully. In fact, I’m drawing breath to tell him so when a voice chimes in.
“Now, now.” My head jerks up in surprise: It’s Dad, pushing his way through the throng, wiping his dripping forehead. “Leave the boy alone. All great projects have stumbling blocks along the way. Bill Gates’s first company failed completely, and look where he is now!” Dad has reached Tarquin and pats him kindly on the arm. “You had a technical hitch. It’s not the end of the world. And I think we can all see, this is going to be a fine sight when the details are perfected. Well done to Tarquin and all the Surge team.”
“Where’s Tarkie?” I say over the noise. “He should be here to enjoy it!”
Suze shrugs. “Must be with the technical guys.”
“Five … four … three … two … one … ladies and gentlemen … The Surge!”
A roar of cheers breaks out as the fountain spurts up from the middle of the lake and hits the height of …
Oh. OK. Well, it’s about five feet. It’s not that high for a fountain called The Surge. But maybe it’ll go higher?
Sure enough, it slowly rises up to about twelve feet, and there’s a renewed cheering from the crowd. But as I look at Suze, she seems horrified.
“Something’s gone wrong!” she exclaims. “It should be about five times that height.”
The water falls back down; then, as though with a massive effort, it pushes itself up to about fifteen feet. It drops a little, then rises again.
“Is that it?” the earl is saying contemptuously. “Could do better myself with a hose. What did I tell you, Marjorie?”
Now there’s as much laughing in the crowd as there is cheering. Every time the fountain lifts, there’s an outburst of cheering, and every time it drops down, everyone says, “Ahhh!”
“It’s the water pressure,” I say, suddenly remembering. “Tarkie said there was a problem.”
“He’ll be devastated.” Suze’s eyes are bright with tears. “I can’t believe it. I mean, look at it. It’s pathetic!”
“No it’s not!” I say at once. “It’s brilliant. It’s … subtle.”
The truth is, it does look pathetic.
But then there’s an almighty bang! and a stream of water surges right up into the air, to what seems like a hundred feet.
“There you are!” I yell, and clutch Suze in excitement. “It’s working! It’s amazing! It’s fantastic! It’s—ahh!” I break off with a strangled yell.
Something’s gone wrong. I don’t know what. But this isn’t right.
A mass of water is falling at speed toward us, like a water cannon. We stare, transfixed—then it splats all over three people behind me, and they start screaming. A moment later, the fountain fires another water bomb into the air, and we all start holding our hands above our heads. Another moment later and there’s another splat, and two more people are drenched.
“Minnie!” I call anxiously, waving my arms. “Get away!” But Ellie is already shepherding the children back up the steps.
“Women and children to safety!” the earl is thundering. “Abandon ship!”
It’s mayhem. People are running in all directions, trying to dodge the falling water. I manage to get up the slippery bank, then suddenly see Tarkie, standing apart from the crowd, his shirt soaked.
“Off! Off!” he’s shouting into his walkie-talkie. “Turn everything off!”
Poor Tarkie. He looks stricken. He looks like he might cry. I’m about to go and give him a hug when Suze comes running up, her eyes glowing with sympathy.
“Tarkie, never mind.” She throws her arms around him. “All the best inventions have glitches at first.”
Tarkie doesn’t reply. He looks too devastated to speak.
“It’s not the end of the world,” Suze tries again. “It’s just one fountain. And the idea is still brilliant.”
“Brilliant? Catastrophe, more like.” The earl is stepping forward over the puddles. “Waste of time and money. How much did this fiasco cost, Tarquin?” He’s jabbing with his shooting stick as he talks. I feel like jabbing him. “Thought your fountain was supposed to entertain the troops, not drown the troops!” He gives a short, sarcastic laugh, but no one else joins in. “And now that you’ve bankrupted the place and made us a laughingstock, maybe you’d like to take a few lessons in running a historic house properly? What?”
I glance at Tarquin and flinch. He’s turned puce with humiliation, and his hands are nervously rubbing against each other. My chest starts heaving with indignation. His father is awful. He’s a bully. In fact, I’m drawing breath to tell him so when a voice chimes in.
“Now, now.” My head jerks up in surprise: It’s Dad, pushing his way through the throng, wiping his dripping forehead. “Leave the boy alone. All great projects have stumbling blocks along the way. Bill Gates’s first company failed completely, and look where he is now!” Dad has reached Tarquin and pats him kindly on the arm. “You had a technical hitch. It’s not the end of the world. And I think we can all see, this is going to be a fine sight when the details are perfected. Well done to Tarquin and all the Surge team.”
