London Belongs to the Alchemist (Class Heroes Book 4) Page 15

  A small group of older kids had congregated around the back of the gym. Typically, that was where the smokers hung out to be cool. Sam had only strayed into this area for something to do and she wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings, although she did register how the group seemed to be in a tight circle, as though they were crowded around something. There were muted voices, but they barely registered above the general hubbub of the playground.

  The school bell rang and the crowd of kids instantly leapt apart and dispersed. Only now did Sam realize that the group had left something behind, and it took her several seconds to see that it was a person lying prone on the tarmac.

  She changed direction to head towards the figure, still not comprehending what had happened. Why had the group just left somebody lying there? And then she understood, just as a boy and a girl drew closer. Mark Foster again, and a tall girl with straight, fair hair. The head prefect sneered at Sam as he walked past. Sam had never imagined that people actually sneered — but, without doubt, this was definitely a sneer.

  “You’re next, Blake,” he called back.

  Sam trotted towards the figure on the ground. Oh my gosh! It was Nina!

  “Nina! Are you ok?” she asked, dropping to her knees and putting her arm around her friend’s shoulders. Nina turned her face towards Sam. It was unmarked, no bruises, but she was sobbing pitifully. Her white shirt was streaked with dirt, her tie was ragged, her blazer was torn and there was a nasty cut on her right knee.

  “What happened?” asked Sam.

  “I don’t know,” sobbed Nina. “They just grabbed me and dragged me here, punching and kicking me.” She broke down and cried again.

  Sam hugged her friend, while looking around the playground. People were filing into the main building — nobody looked their way. Soon they’d be on their own. The tarmac was cold on Sam’s legs. She felt useless. If she were James, she would go and beat Mark Foster to a pulp. Sam had no doubt he was the instigator of this attack. But why?

  “Come on Nina, it’s ok, I’m here.” It was the kind of thing Mum would say. Sam hoped the words sounded reassuring. “I think I should take you to the headmaster.”

  “No, no,” Nina managed, looking pleadingly into Sam’s eyes and pawing her arm. Sam was taken aback. An attack like this had to be reported.

  “You mustn’t say anything, please, promise,” begged Nina. “I’ll be all right in a minute, really I will,” she said, wincing, as she tried to rise to her feet. Sam helped her. Nina wiped her eyes and tried to straighten her uniform.

  “Don’t be silly,” said Sam. “Look at you. You need to see a doctor. You need to tell the headmaster what just happened.”

  “Doesn’t work like that,” sobbed Nina. “You don’t know what it’s been like here. You can’t say anything. They just come after you.”

  “Who does?” demanded Sam. “Mark Foster?” Sam could feel her blood boiling.

  Nina managed to nod a confirmation.

  “They said they were going to get you, too,” said Nina, sniffing. “They want…” She broke down again.

  Sam wished there were some way she could transfer her power to Nina, to speed her friend’s recovery and give her new confidence.

  “What do they want?” asked Sam.

  “Just help me to the toilets,” pleaded Nina. “Wait. I need my phone.”

  Nina hobbled towards the nearby brick wall, helped by Sam, to where her phone was lying. It had obviously been kicked around the playground. Nina picked it up and put it in her bag.

  Slowly, step by stumbling step, Sam helped Nina into the main building. Some of the other kids looked at them curiously, but there were no teachers around to question what had happened.

  In the toilets, Nina splashed water on her face and calmed herself down. Sam led her to their Form group. Mrs Parvaneh wanted to know why they were late and Nina lied that she had fallen over in the playground, but that she was fine.

  Sam sat at her desk, brooding.

  Nina leaned over to Sam and whispered, “I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Sam whispered back. “You did nothing to bring on that attack.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I mean, when they grabbed my phone, they were looking for your number.”

  Chapter 26

  Before lessons began, there was a school assembly. To Sam’s extreme embarrassment, the headmaster welcomed her and James back to the school and they had to walk up on stage and shake his hand.

  The headmaster did a speech about the bravery of the pupils at South Ealing Comprehensive, and how the school was proud to have such a welcoming atmosphere and team spirit. Then, to Sam’s dismay and anger, Mark Foster was called up to the stage, praised for how he represented the school as head prefect and was presented with an award for sporting achievement. When the headmaster informed the audience that Foster was a credit to the school, Sam just wanted to be sick.

  “How come he’s the golden boy?” she asked Nina afterwards, as they filed down the corridor together on their way to maths class.

  “That’s all we’ve heard about in assemblies recently,” muttered Nina. “How great the school is and how lucky we are that Mark Foster represents us. He’s king of everything at the moment. Athletics trophies, captain of the football team and his grades are excellent. He loves himself and he’s horrible.”

  “Why is he bullying you?”

  “It’s not just me. It’s anyone who doesn’t do what he says.”

  “What does he say? What does he want?”

  “He has a gang. A group of hangers-on. People are frightened of him, so they dare not fight back. He thinks he owns the school and he tells people what to do.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Sam. “What’s it all for? And why did he want my phone number?”

  Nina pulled away from Sam.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just change the subject, please?”

  Nina sounded borderline hysterical. This time, Sam refused to let the matter drop. They had reached the classroom, and Sam stopped in the doorway and put a hand on her friend’s arm.

  “Nina, please tell me what’s going on. He told me I’m next, remember. What’s he going to do with my phone number? Send me lots of texts?”

  Nina looked at Sam with sad, fearful eyes.

  “That’s how it all starts,” she muttered.

  “How what starts?” asked Sam.

  “The bullying. He roughs you up in school. Then he finds you outside in the evenings, then at weekends.”

  “Has that happened to you?”

  “Not yet. But I’ve heard it’s happened to other kids. He puts something on your phone.”

  “What? What does that mean?”

  “He’s got some kind of business going,” said Nina, her voice rising and rising. “And you have to buy into it.”

  “Nina, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “I think it’s like, what do gangsters call it, protection? He’s got a supply of Super D. He’s so strong and everyone is afraid of him. He wants money from us. I told you didn’t I, things are different at school now. It’s changed so much since you were last here, all because of him.”

  Nina escaped into the classroom. Sam remained by the door, pondering on what Nina had just told her.

  In the last year I’ve dealt with a psychotic psychic and possibly the most powerful and dangerous man in the world, thought Sam. So if this school bully wants to mess with my friends, he’s in for a nasty shock.

  And then a thought struck her. A thought that made her suddenly feel very cold and very sad. She’d seen Foster yesterday, coming out of The Bean Counter, when she’d gone to meet Al. He’d stuffed a bag of something into his pocket.

  ***

  Sam suddenly realized James was at her side. She forgot her previous squabble with her brother. She was glad they were in class together.

  “Everything ok?” he asked.

  “Mark Foster attacked Nina,” s
aid Sam.

  “What?” James’s face flashed with anger.

  “Apparently he’s bullying people for money. He says I’m next.”

  “Let me at him,” said James, calmly and quietly. “I’ll put his face through the wall.”

  “Wait,” said Sam, holding him back. She appreciated how protective he was, but this wasn’t the response the situation needed. “Don’t go drawing attention to yourself.”

  “This is your friend we’re talking about. This is Nina!”

  “I know, I know. I’ll deal with it.”

  “And do you know what Steve told me on Monday? What with all the other stuff going on, I completely forgot. But Steve said that Al has been giving Foster a supply of Super D. I mean, what the hell is he playing at, giving it to that cretin?”

  “I know,” said Sam, her voice faltering. She took a deep breath. She wanted to believe the best about Al, but this wasn’t good news. She also knew that, after having had a go at James about fancying Lolly, her brother now had every right to be censorious regarding Al.

  “I think Al gave Foster a packet of the stuff the other day,” admitted Sam. “I saw Foster leaving the coffee shop, just before I met Al. He was carrying something. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but I guess it could have been Super D.”

  She braced herself for a tirade.

  To her surprise, James was cool.

  “Look, I know you like Al,” he said, gently, “and to be honest, I thought he was ok, too. But be careful. Just like I’ll be careful with Lolly,” he added, with a conciliatory smile.

  Bless James. Sam felt relieved.

  “Thank you for not having a go at me. I know you could have,” she said.

  “But I think you should find out why Al is giving Super D to Foster,” added James.

  “I will,” she said. “I’m seeing him tonight.”

  “How are you going to convince Mum and Dad to allow that?”

  Sam shrugged. She had no idea, but she couldn’t accept the prospect of not seeing Al. It was her second proper date, and she was excited.

  “Give him a chance to explain,” James said. “But if he turns out to be a wrong ’un, then I’ll be giving him a smack, too. Nobody messes with my sister!”

  And with that, James marched into the classroom and sat down. Sam took her seat next to Nina, and wondered if she’d just lost her first boyfriend before the relationship had even started.

  Chapter 27

  Lolly Rosewood sat on the rooftop of a shop on New Cross Road, directly opposite the exotic-fruits shop owned by Al Lester’s family. She was relieved to see the property was still standing. She’d feared that Nicky Cairo’s temper would get the better of him and he’d burn the place down out of petty revenge.

  Lolly was beginning to see that Cairo was a smart guy. He was rational. He didn’t fly into a rage unnecessarily. That was promising. He could be a valuable ally.

  Lolly took Samantha Blake’s phone out of her jacket pocket. She had stolen it from Sam’s bag while the girl had been in the shower. Fortunately, Sam didn’t lock her phone. She opened up the text messages. Several from Al. They made entertaining reading.

  Lolly sent Al a text from Sam’s phone.

  ‘You gone to school yet? x’

  A minute later and the reply came through:

  ‘Got some business to do today. School can wait :-)’

  Damn. That was unexpected. Lolly had assumed that she could accost Al on his way to school, but if he was bunking off today, he could be anywhere.

  She was relieved to see him emerge from the shop only a few minutes later. He was dressed in black jeans, white shirt with school tie, and a black jacket. He was carrying a rucksack. Ah. Of course. He would pretend to go to school for the benefit of his family, and then go on his secret mission. Clever.

  She watched him walk along New Cross Road in the direction of Peckham. He didn’t seem to be in any great hurry and he was quite happy to pause and swap greetings with various people along the way. He was friendly, happy-go-lucky and confident.

  Lolly trailed him across the rooftops. All of the buildings on this busy London street were either connected or a short jump away. She wanted to avoid following him at street level. She had learned her lesson regarding the number of CCTV cameras that were operating in the city.

  Eventually, Al crossed the road, so he was now on the same side of the street as Lolly. She looked down over the ledge of the building that she was standing on. He was directly underneath her, hanging around at the corner of the street.

  Al turned the corner and Lolly scampered to the other side of the roof to see where he would go next.

  She had a clear view of the pavement below. Al passed beneath her, walked on for another five metres or so and then stopped. He looked around him, and then clambered over a brick wall into the empty yard at the back of the building on which Lolly was standing.

  She hurried across the roof to the rear side and peered below.

  Al straightened his jacket and approached the building. Although Lolly’s view was restricted, she could hear him removing wooden boards, presumably from across a window. Seconds later and it was quiet and there was no further sign of Al. He must be inside.

  ***

  Lolly spotted a skylight in the roof. She walked over to it and tried to peer in, but it was impossible to see through a layer of filth. She attempted to lift the opening hatch but it wouldn’t shift. Probably locked from the inside. She didn’t want to break the glass because of the noise it would make. After thinking about the problem, she managed to prise her fingers into a gap between the hatch and its groove until she found where the lock was situated. She then pushed her finger against the lock until the metal catch snapped. After that it was easy to lift up the hatch and drop silently into the room below.

  It must have been a bedroom, but it was disgusting. A dirty, threadbare carpet on the floor. A sink in a corner and a battered mattress upturned against a wall. There was a small window, covered by faded curtains. Lewd messages had been scrawled on the rotting door — in blood, alarmingly.

  Lolly made her way out of the room onto a landing. From downstairs, she could hear voices. So there was a group of people here. There was a staircase in front of her. The floorboards were creaky and the steps had no carpet. She had little chance of making it downstairs without creating enough noise to wake the dead.

  She heard Al’s voice.

  “Set up the usual decoy locations. Get some chatter on Twitter and Facebook. Police will get wind of it sooner or later, so I want them to think it’s elsewhere, like the Houses of Parliament or something. This is going to be massive, so I want the cops in the wrong place.”

  A second voice responded.

  “Easy enough. Have you got some stuff for me?”

  “Sure, man.”

  There was a rustling noise. The second voice again.

  “Where do you get this stuff, man?”

  “That’s my secret,” replied Al. Then there was laughter. Lolly guessed there must be at least four people down there. There was some muttering, more laughter, and Lolly got the impression that business had already been concluded. She wanted to know what was going on and she firmly believed in the direct approach.

  She calmly walked down the stairs. At the first creak, the laughter stopped. Lolly could almost sense the tension rise with each further step. When she got to the ground floor, she realized she was in a pub. The state of the decor told her it was derelict. Red paint was peeling from the walls, the window in the door that led to the bar was broken, and the whole place smelled of must and damp.

  Lolly strode into the bar. She had an immediate impression of dust and darkness. Windows boarded up, smashed bottles, broken chairs, blood on the carpet.

  She saw Al, his mouth open in surprise. Next to him was a young, thin guy, a bit older than her, dressed in faded blue jeans, a dazzling belt buckle and an expensive leather jacket. A third man stood close to him, tall and powerfully bu
ilt. He looked like a bodyguard.

  Then someone grabbed her.

  A fourth guy had taken up a position behind the doorway and had been waiting for her to come in.

  He put his thick, tattooed left arm around her neck and took hold of Lolly’s right hand with his own. Maybe he was going to change his mind when he realized the intruder was just a girl. Maybe not. Lolly gave him no chance. She wrenched her hand out of his grip and drove her elbow back into his stomach. The fight went out of him instantly. Lolly wheeled around and clubbed him to the floor.

  He was a big unit. Solid, powerful — he must be the flashy guy’s second bodyguard. Lolly felt disappointed when he didn’t move. He’d looked like he was tough enough to give her some sport, but evidently he was finished. When she faced the remaining three people, it was obvious they weren’t going to challenge her. Not after that.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” said Lolly, sweetly. “I only came down to say that there’s no paper in the ladies’ toilets.”

  “What are you doing here, Lolly?” asked a bewildered Al.

  “You know this psycho?” asked the thin guy.

  “She’s…” Al hesitated. “My girlfriend’s sister, or stepsister, or friend? Actually I’m not sure.”

  “Have you been giving her Super D?” asked the thin guy.

  “I’m a friend,” Lolly assured them. “Which is lucky for you, given that your bodyguards aren’t up to much.” She indicated the groaning figure now writhing on the dirty carpet. Nobody bothered to help their injured comrade. “I’m sorry about your pet monkey, but he started it.”

  “What do you want, Lolly?” asked Al, strictly businesslike. “Did you follow me?”

  “Yes. I need to talk to you. Proper business. Not whatever kids’ games you’re up to here.”

  Thin guy looked angry, but he didn’t make a move on her.

  “It’s ok,” Al assured him. “Lolly is cool, I promise. Just, y’know,” he dropped his voice and leaned in closer to the guy, “do your thing, and everything will be sweet.”