Garden by Jane Yates - Release Day
‘Garden is very charming with some lovely parallels …’ Sharon Sant – Author of The Sky Song trilogy
Inspired by the classic novel The Secret Garden, Jane Yates introduces us to a steampunk world of bio-domes, robots and mysteries. Eleven-year-old Aberdeen is so used to being by herself that all she has to fill her thoughts are stories of mighty dragons and grand castles. But Aberdeen’s world is soon thrown into disarray however; her parents murdered.
Having no choice, Aberdeen is sent to live with her uncle back on Earth where her fascination into her new surroundings begin to take hold. It isn’t long before Aberdeen befriends three other children – Maisy, Peter and Lenard.
Oh, and there’s Frank too, Peter’s robot dog, who completes this special circle of friendship.
Garden is a journey of self-discovery, of trials and friendship. With adventure boundless, Jane Yates follows up her acclaimed Paradox Child trilogy with a new tale for young fans of steampunk and science fiction.
~ Jane
Yates Links ~
Twitter – https://twitter.com/JYparadoxchild
Garden
Links –
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/GardenNovel
Youtube
Trailer Link - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ACQSVhtXpAo
Autumn
Orchard Links –
Facebook – http://facebook.com/autumnorchardbooks
Twitter – http://twitter.com/autumnorchardbk
Website – http://autumnorchardbooks.wordpress.com
~ Praise for Garden ~
‘Garden is very charming with some lovely parallels …’ – Sharon Sant – Author of The Sky Song trilogy
‘This is an absolutely lovely story with a really intriguing mystery …’ – Jaimie Admans – Author of Afterlife Academy
‘Garden made me smile from start to finish.’ – Dan Thompson – Author of Here Lies Love
‘Jane Yates has written a wonderful story of self-growth, courage and learning how to love.’ – Book Raiders Blog
~ Author's Artwork ~
CHAPTER 1
Left
Alone
Deep in space, Aberdeen sat on a balcony overlooking a grand party her
mother hosted. Everyone wore their finest clothes. The music was loud; a type
of remixed jazz. Aberdeen searched her mother out among the crowd of guests.
Upon spotting her, she gazed at her mother’s attire; a long silk dress, the
colour of shock blue. This was matched by elaborate feathers and sparkling
jewels that hung in her blue hair. Her mother’s hair swung down her back, which
highlighted her large dragon tattoo. Aberdeen eyed the lead in her mother’s
hand and followed it to the golden robot dog sat beside her. It was tall and
thin, and even from where Aberdeen sat, she could see the cogs moving inside it
as if it had a tiny heart beating.
Aberdeen’s mother laughed gaily. She had the full attention of a young
officer with braided hair, who was smartly dressed in his green and gold
uniform. As he chuckled along, his head dropped back and a cool thin line of
rose-smelling cigarette smoke slid from the corner of his mouth.
Aberdeen continued to watch the party from above. As usual, there was no
sign of her father; probably in the engine room of the ship, she guessed. She
browsed at all the fresh fruit and flowers in the tall bowls and glasses
decorating the table. She knew that they had been picked up the last time the
ship had docked at one of the satellite stations. She had learnt that the
fragrant, exotic flowers had been grown in large artificial garden domes and
she longed to see one.
She looked down in awe at the musicians. A large man sat at a glass
piano, his fingers elegantly flitting from key to key. Aberdeen could see his
fat belly though through the transparent top of the piano; it wobbled
tastelessly as he played, a huge contrast to his regal demeanour. Aberdeen also
noticed a tall, skinny man, strumming a black shinny double base and three
female trumpeters who all wore brown and white stripy suits.
Draped from the metallic ceiling were candle-shaped lights, and in
between them dancers gambolled on trapeze ropes. They wore porcelain masks and
flamboyantly displayed peacock feathers, midnight blue and jade green, in their
hair. They matched the rhythm of the quintet perfectly, Aberdeen thought.
The floor was polished to a high shine and Aberdeen could see the
refection of the sociable people in it. In the corner of the room was an old
gentleman who caught Aberdeen’s interest. Upon his head was a black top hat and
he rested a glass monocle on his eye, which magnified his golden brown iris so
even Aberdeen could see. His long twisting moustache made Aberdeen giggle.
There were no children however, and Aberdeen wondered what the workers’
children were up to. She suddenly felt quite alone.
Aberdeen picked up some of the plastic cocktail sticks that had been dropped
on the floor; planting them along the edge of the balcony and playfully
imagining them growing into amazing flowers. She soon tired of the game and
thought about going downstairs to join the party, but knew that her mother
would not be pleased; her mother felt that children should be seen but not
heard and, where possible, not seen at all. Her mother had not wanted children.
Aberdeen knew she hadn’t been planned and her mother, a socialite, did not have
time for her, nor did she wish for her daughter to mix with the other children
on the ship, as these were the workers’ children. The elite children had been
shipped off to boarding school, but Aberdeen had not settled in well there and
caused fights with the other children. She was returned to her parents in
disgrace.
Aberdeen had wanted to play with the ship workers’ children, but her mother, on one of her brief and rare visits to see her daughter, told her horrid stories about them. “They have revolting lice in their hair,” she had said, and “Do you want them to jump at you and bite you?”
So instead Aberdeen spent all her
time in the company of her robot nanny; her Guardian. Her Guardian was
programed to do whatevershe wanted, as
long as it did not disturb the child’s parents. It was efficient but uncaring,
which had led partly to Aberdeen becoming the same way. The Guardian was
responsible for her education too and arranged her meals and even dressed her.
It was also programmed to tell stories. The wondrous tales and adventures of
frightful dragons and grand castles were her favourite and she would spend her
time imagining dragons flying around her room acting out her own brave
endeavours.
Early the next morning, Aberdeen awoke thinking she had heard screams
and cries for help. Frightened, she locked her door and snuggled tightly
underneath her covers. The thick duvet muffled the cries from outside, and
before long, she had drifted back to sleep.
When she awoke some hours later, having convinced herself that the
commotion from the night before had been a terrible nightmare, she opened her
door and sat on her bed waiting for her Guardian. Minutes later, it still
hadn’t appeared.
Aberdeen browsed her room to pass more time; it was only fair she
allowed her Guardian a little extra before she left the room. Her room was
plain compared with the lavish party setting of downstairs, although she knew
she could have it decorated any way she desired. She chose to not have a lot.
What she liked doing the most was playing with her robot snake. Aberdeen was
content with her few intimate toys rather than having extravagant playthings
she had no need of. She had books, but she preferred to be read to. The
furniture was clinical white, undecorated and simplistic in design. Everything
served a purpose and there wasn’t even a carpet on the floor, just white lino.
There were pictures on the wall, but none that she had chosen, as if put there
by someone who had no knowledge of her at all.
She suddenly remembered the soft toys she once had, which consisted
mostly of dragons, but they had been stored away when she had been sent off to
school. Her mother, still angry at Aberdeen’s quick return, as if she was but a
nuisance, had not retrieved them yet. She much preferred her robot snake
anyway.
Aberdeen felt herself becoming increasingly frustrated; why wasn’t her
Guardian coming to dress her? She wasn’t used to waiting. When the rage become
too much, Aberdeen jumped and stamped her feet screaming for the Guardian to
come. When it still hadn’t arrived, she sulked down the hallway until she came
to the balcony. All the food and glasses were still left set out, but there
wasn’t anyone around. Aberdeen descended the staircase and quickly snatched
some of the food. On her way back to her room, she grabbed an opened bottle of
wine.
As she crossed the polished floor however, she froze and looked at her
sad reflection. Her plain looks gave way to a sour jawline, giving the
impression that she rarely smiled. In truth, Aberdeen realised that she hardly
did. Her shapeless chestnut hair appeared dull. She looked as far away from the
fashionable figure of her mother. Her words rung in her mind.
Spoilt,
bad tempered little child!
Aberdeen promptly scooted back to her
room. Perhaps her Guardian had arrived.
Aberdeen was furious to find it
hadn’t. She slid her food underneath her bed and squeezed under herself,
thinking mean thoughts. She ate some of the food and sipped the wine, which
made her sleepy. Eventually, not realising how long had passed, and getting
rather bored, she played with her small robot snake. She built high obstacles
out of plastic bricks for it to slither around. She tried to imagine that the
snake was a dragon from one of her stories and that the bricks were castles.
When she had drained the wine however, Aberdeen soon found herself slipping
into a slumber.
But when she awoke, her angry temperament hadn’t left her. Where was her
Guardian?
Just then, outside her bedroom door she heard two muffled grown-up
voices.
“It’s a shame; she was beautiful, taken in the prime of her life,” the
first voice said.
“She was a mother too,” the second voice replied. “I hear she had
a child, a girl, although nobody ever really saw her.”
Aberdeen got out from under her bed and opened the door. She frowned at
two officers who were stood in the hallway wearing gas masks.
“Oh, look, Barnabas, there’s a child here, alone in a place like this!”
one of them said, pointing and grabbing another mask from his bag which was
slung over his shoulder.
“Who is she?” the second offer asked.
“I’m Aberdeen Gale,” Aberdeen introduced herself, pulling herself up as
tall as she could and staring at them both.
“Oh, this must be the girl no one ever saw. Poor thing, she must have
been forgotten,” the first officer said, holding out the mask for her to put
on. Aberdeen glared at the mask; it was a strange shape, light brown in colour
with two round windows for eyes. She spotted a dull copper filter hanging from
it. The gas mask itself could have been really old if it not for the fact that
there was a green triangular light flashing on it.
“I don’t like it!” Aberdeen shouted, folding her arms across her body
and scowling at the men.
“Oh, the poor thing, she’s frightened,” Barnabas said, a hint of
patronisation in his voice.
“I’m not poor at all,” Aberdeen snapped. “My father is in charge of the
ship. I need you to take me to him at once as my robot has not come for me.”
Barnabas knelt down next to Aberdeen. “You poor child,” he said softly.
“Everyone is dead. There was a distress signal, which we picked up.” He helped
her to put on the gas mask.
Aberdeen could not believe what she was hearing. She tugged at the gas
mask, rearranging its strange structure. It felt heavy on her face and it made
her want to itch her skin. Barnabas offered her a smile. He looked to his
colleague for support, who continued to talk as if Aberdeen was invisible.
“Maybe the girl survived as she leads a solitary existence? Well, that
will have to change now.”
Barnabas continued to smile at her.
“You must come with us, my girl,” the other officer instructed, holding
his hand out to Aberdeen. “We need to take you off this ship and back to a
halfway station for quarantine. Juno is probably the nearest one.”
“Your robot is not coming,” Barnabas told her as if he had sensed her
thoughts. “All the worker robot signals were shut down when the distress signal
was issued.”
Aberdeen glared at him, “I don’t believe you!”
“It’s true,” Barnabas said. “It’s part of the fail safe protocol. When
the distress signal is sent it allows for every eventuality, even robot attack,
so it shuts them down.”
Aberdeen stood still, her mind racing, she did not know what to do.
“It was some sort of virus,” Barnabas continued. “We are not sure of all
the facts as yet, but from what we can piece together it looks as if one of the
crew members released a fast acting, deadly virus as a grudge. We suspect a
chemist.”
Aberdeen must have looked blankly at him, as he continued. “We were on
our way to arrest him anyway. He had been developing new Class A drugs and had
become paranoid.”
Aberdeen took a step backwards unsure to believe them or not. She wasn’t
quite sure what ‘Class A’ drugs were, but she definitely didn’t like the sound
of them.
The other officer said, “Look, we haven’t got time for this. We need to
get you off this ship; it’s going to be decommissioned.”
Aberdeen ran back into her room and scooped up her snake and placed it
in her pocket, then followed the two officers along the corridor and away from
the only home she had ever known.
Text copyright © Jane Yates
2015
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