London Belongs to the Alchemist (Class Heroes Book 4) Page 20

  The metal snapped easily and Sam ripped open a hole large enough for her and Nina to get through.

  Sam had a feeling that this area of the park must back on to the old Ealing Studios. She helped Nina through the hole in the fence and then shepherded her down a narrow alleyway between two buildings.

  She could still hear the baying and calling behind her. It wouldn’t take long for the mob to enter the enclosure and discover where their prey had gone. But by that time, Sam and Nina would have made it safely to the main road.

  They emerged into a courtyard, surrounded by buildings. Sam was right. It was the old studios. Before she could get her bearings, a large floodlight sprang into life. Now she couldn’t see anything and they were both lit up like a Christmas tree. She helped Nina to the safety of the shadows and they dodged around the corner of the nearest building.

  Just as she did so, Sam heard a roaring sound. She peeked back, not quite believing what she was seeing.

  Foster was on the roof of the low building that backed onto the park. Seconds later, another kid landed, like a dog, next to him. The two of them jumped off the roof and dropped into the open courtyard. They too had to shield their eyes from the invasive security light.

  Foster was holding something in his hand. It looked like a phone. He was turning around on the spot.

  “I know where you are, Blake,” he shouted. “I want a taste of you!”

  Sam shuddered. Fortunately, this place was a maze. Foster would never find them.

  But no. Cautiously, stealthily, Foster stalked them, closing in on their position.

  “How does he know we’re here?” Sam found herself asking out loud.

  “It must be your phone,” sobbed Nina. “Did he send you a text?”

  Sam nodded. The hate texts earlier in the day.

  “It was a virus. His brother is some kind of computer geek. He’s tracking your phone.”

  So that was how he had known where she was in the park. Sam switched the phone off.

  “It’ll just come back on,” said Nina. “The virus won’t let you switch it off.”

  Sam looked back around the corner to see if Foster was still approaching. As she craned her neck — he was right there! For a second he looked almost as surprised as she did. Then he launched himself at her, like a savage dog.

  Sam was forced backwards onto the tarmac, the weight of the boy on top of her, knocking her head back against the ground. She was momentarily stunned.

  She heard Foster laugh.

  He scrambled around, trying to put his knee on her chest and hold her arms down, but as soon as he shifted his weight, Sam brought both her legs up so they were between her chest and his body. Then she kicked out. Foster sailed through the air, at least ten metres across the courtyard, and crashed into the nearest building. He dropped to the ground, falling awkwardly. When Sam picked herself up, she could see Foster clutching his legs.

  The second boy came bounding around the corner of the building and charged her. This time Sam had no scruples about striking first. She dodged his clumsy attack and punched him in the stomach. He dropped to the ground, choking, retching, useless. Sam felt a flash of anger. Should she hit him again? She made herself calm down. No. She couldn’t sink to their level.

  Sam picked her phone up off the ground. As Nina had predicted, it had restarted. She noticed that Foster had also dropped his phone in the scuffle. She picked it up. There was a map application open on the screen. A blue triangle and a green dot were at the centre of the map. Nina was right again. At the top of the screen was a small, upside down, yellow smiley icon, and the words ‘Party Jacker’. The exact same application that Steve Roadhouse had used to find the party on Friday night. The one developed by Mark Foster’s brother, Kyle.

  “What you did was amazing, Sam,” muttered Nina, in disbelief. “Have you taken Super D as well?”

  Sam didn’t want to lie to Nina. Fortunately, another burst of shouting and baying from close by prevented Sam from having to answer.

  It could well be that the mob all had the Party Jacker app on their phones and could use it to track her. Sam removed the casing at the back of her phone and pulled the battery out.

  They should get away from here, but there was something Sam wanted to do first. She pocketed her own phone, then stamped on Foster’s.

  Then she checked the pockets of the boy she had just dealt with. She had punched him hard and he was still too weak to put up any resistance. Even speech seemed to be beyond him, but Sam did notice how much spittle he was depositing on the ground.

  His clothes were soaked in sweat. It was gross even touching him. Sam found a phone in the boy’s jacket pocket. The screen was locked. She crushed the phone in her hand. Apart from that he just had a set of keys, some cigarettes, a lighter and a bus ticket.

  Sam ran over to where Mark Foster was moaning softly. He didn’t seem to know what day it was, so Sam judged that he wasn’t about to start fighting again. She hadn’t noticed at first, but Foster had a bag strapped across his shoulder. She turned him over to get to the bag. Inside she could see several individually wrapped packets of red powder. Sam had a strong suspicion that it was Super D. She took the bag with her and returned to Nina, who was still looking dazed and dumbstruck.

  “Come on,” said Sam, helping her friend to walk. “Let’s go, before the others catch us up. I’ll take you home.”

  Chapter 34

  James had spent the last hour fretting over Sam’s disappearance. The atmosphere in the house was so tense that it would have snapped the blade of the proverbial knife.

  James had tried ringing Sam, and Mum had too, only to receive a message that the phone was switched off. Dad had gone out to look for her. Lolly seemed unconcerned. In fact, she was impressed.

  “I didn’t know your sister had it in her,” was all she said, and then disappeared to her bedroom. James found himself missing Lolly’s presence. He was torn between wanting to go out and help Dad, feeling like he should stay with Mum, and needing Lolly at his side. He had enjoyed rescuing Sam from Nicky Cairo, aided and abetted by Lolly. They felt like a team. He wanted to do that again. He hated sitting around doing nothing.

  Fortunately, and surprisingly, Mum wasn’t unduly worried.

  “Sam will be fine,” said James. “She’s perfectly safe. She just needs to calm down and then she’ll come back.”

  Mum nodded. “I know that. She’s probably safer out there than your father is at the moment. But you know how protective he is over you both. It’s not that I don’t worry about you, too,” she added, seemingly concerned that James would suddenly assume she didn’t love him. “But your dad hasn’t quite come to terms with the fact that you are both growing up, particularly Samantha. You having these powers makes it harder for him to accept, rather than easier.”

  Reassured that Mum wasn’t distraught, James went upstairs to Dad’s study. It afforded a view of the street. James sat on the windowsill with the light off, looking up and down the road, waiting for Dad or Sam to return.

  Cars and buses droned by. A grey Mondeo was parked a few doors down, across the road, and it was encroaching into the bus stop. James knew, from hearing Dad moan about it, that parking spaces on the road were difficult to come by, but you don’t block a bus stop, do you?

  James watched as each time a bus pulled in then out of the stop, the driver had to vigorously turn the steering wheel to swing back out onto the road.

  It was only when the third bus had made the tricky manoeuvre that James noticed there was a man in the driver’s seat of the Mondeo.

  “You nob,” James said, out loud. “I mean, what kind of numpty parks there? What a twonk!”

  Feeling like he hadn’t lambasted the unaware driver enough, James proceeded to call him a loser, and, after checking Mum wasn’t in earshot, a number of other bad names which he thought made him sound pretty cool and mean. It helped to pass the time and relieve his frustration.

  Mid tirade, James noticed a woman
approaching the car carrying two takeaway cups of tea or coffee. It was Mrs Stannard! She got into the car.

  At first, James wanted to go out and ask for her help. Maybe she had seen Sam. Then he asked himself why Mrs Stannard was here, watching the house in secret. The only conclusion he could come up with was because she still believed that Lolly was staying here.

  ***

  Dad’s car pulled up on the drive and he got out. Samantha wasn’t with him. Dad walked back to the pavement, and looked up and down the street. A last, hopeful check. He had turned back towards the house when Mrs Stannard got out of the Mondeo and called his name. Determined to hear the forthcoming conversation, James unlocked the window and opened it a crack.

  “Everything all right?” said Mrs S, as she crossed the road.

  Even from his restricted viewing position, James could tell that Dad was instantly defensive.

  “Have you been waiting for me?” he asked, bluntly.

  “Not exactly,” replied Mrs S. “But I saw Sam run out of the house earlier.”

  There was a distinct edge to both voices. The friendship and trust that had existed between James’s family and Mrs Stannard had obviously deteriorated since yesterday. A knot tightened in James’s stomach.

  “You’ve been watching the house?” asked Dad. “Why?”

  “Don’t you want to know where Sam went?” countered Mrs S. It was like watching the beginning of a chess match. Each opponent making small, careful moves.

  “How do you know where Sam went? Is she with you?” Dad asked.

  “I followed her to the tube station. She said goodbye to her boyfriend. She got a text and then she ran off. I tried to keep up with her, but she is one fast kid. As we know.” That last comment was pointed. Mrs S was reminding Dad that she knew stuff about Sam and James.

  “So you’ve no idea where she is now?” persisted Dad.

  At that point, James caught sight of Sam. She was walking down the road with… that was Nina Palmer with her! She looked in a helluva bad way. What had happened?

  James forgot himself. He lifted up the window and bellowed, “Sam!”

  Dad and Mrs S looked first up at him, and then in the direction that James was pointing.

  Dad dashed up the road, followed by Mrs S. Together they took Nina from Sam.

  James thundered downstairs, shouting to Mum that Sam was back.

  He opened the front door. Dad brought a teary Nina inside and helped her into the kitchen. Mum immediately began fussing around her, noted the cuts and bruises on her face and arms, and brought out the first-aid kit.

  “What happened?” James asked Sam. She flashed him a look which said, ‘I can’t tell you everything’.

  “Nina was being bullied in the park. She sent me a text so I went and got her.”

  “That’s appalling,” said Mrs S, looking genuinely shocked at Nina’s appearance. “Who did this to you, luv?”

  Nina flicked a nervous look at Mrs S and then put her head on Mum’s shoulder.

  “Some kids from school,” said Sam. “They’re not nice. I thought it best to bring her home. I’m sorry I ran off,” she added, to Mum.

  “That’s all right, sweetheart,” Mum reassured her, rubbing Nina’s bloody arm with cotton wool bathed in antiseptic. Nina winced.

  “Why were you outside our house, Mrs S?” James asked. He was conscious of Lolly upstairs in her bedroom. What if she came downstairs now?

  “You need to tell the school about the bullying,” said Mrs S, ignoring James. There was something very different about the woman today, thought James. Colder, more distant, as though she was suppressing a deep anger.

  “I will,” replied Dad. “Let me see you out. I think we’re going to be a bit busy here.” He ushered Mrs S out of the kitchen to the front door.

  “Perhaps you could answer James’s question?” he said, in a harsh, low voice, but still clearly audible to everyone in the kitchen. “Why were you sitting outside my house?”

  Mrs S replied in an equally hard tone.

  “Because I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The whole kitchen froze. James willed Nina to stop sobbing so he could hear properly.

  When Mrs S spoke next, she had dropped her voice to a whisper, but James could just make out what the woman said.

  “One of my agents was found dead this morning. He was here with me last night, then he disappeared. His last contact was that he was following Lolly Rosewood.” There was a pause, then, “Is she here?”

  “Not in this house,” said Dad, adamantly. “You know that, you searched. I’m very sorry about your agent, but it has nothing to do with us.”

  James gulped. Had Lolly killed somebody? Is that why she hadn’t returned to the house till late? His head swam. Dad was lying to protect Lolly now. James felt his stomach fall away. He wanted to run.

  Another pause.

  “I don’t believe you,” said Mrs S. Then her tone lightened. “Roger, if you’re frightened, if Lolly is threatening you in some way, you must tell me. I can help you.”

  “I’m sorry, Jennifer, but I can’t help you. I hope you find her.”

  “Oh, I will,” said Mrs S. There was such anger and coldness in her voice. “And if I discover she was here, or that you had anything to do with my friend’s death, I warn you Roger, nothing on earth will protect you. Just remember who you’re dealing with here.”

  “Then stop wasting my time and go out there and find her,” said Dad.

  James had never heard such steel in his voice.

  The next thing James heard was the slamming front door, then a long sigh from Dad. He came back into the room, looking pale and smiling weakly. His hands were shaking and he put them in his trouser pockets to try and conceal the movement.

  “Are you all right?” he asked Sam. She nodded and hugged him.

  “Are you?”

  “Yes, of course,” he replied, but his voice faltered. “Excuse me a moment will you.”

  Dad left the room.

  James realized he was holding his breath.

  “What about Nina’s parents?” he asked, looking to break the spell.

  “Yes, I’ll ring them,” said Mum, with exaggerated normality. She picked up the phone and had to tap in the number three times before she got it right and the call connected.

  ***

  James slunk back to Dad’s study and crossed to the window. Mrs S was standing next to the Mondeo, just looking at the house. This time she saw him. She gave a small, almost embarrassed wave. James waved back. Then Mrs S got in the car.

  James felt sad. They had lost an important ally, but also somebody whom he had thought of as a friend. The car drove away.

  “I’m sorry,” said a soft voice behind him. Lolly was standing in the doorway. She was playing with her hair and looking intently at Dad’s desk. “I kind of got the idea of what all that was about. Your parents have given up a lot for me.”

  She looked so totally different from the girl he had first met at Wentworth Manor, Sir Michael’s house in Suffolk. James didn’t know what to say.

  “This time, I think it best that I leave,” she said. “That way you might stand a chance of getting your ally back.”

  “No, don’t leave,” replied James, quicker than he meant to. “I… kind of like having you here,” he admitted.

  “I like being here,” said Lolly, shyly. Now she managed to look at him. He could have sworn there were tears in her eyes.

  “And I really, really don’t want to go,” she added. “But I think I should.”

  James didn’t want to ask his next question. He was afraid of the answer.

  “Did you kill one of Mrs Stannard’s agents?” Now it was his turn to look intently at Dad’s desk. There was a drawing of Dad’s car pinned up on the cork board. James had drawn it, over four years ago.

  “Not exactly,” mumbled Lolly.

  “Well, what, exactly?” rumbled Dad. Ja
mes jumped. Dad was standing behind Lolly, his six-foot frame dwarfing her, and she shrank visibly before the waves of anger that were emanating from him.

  “It was an accident — you have to believe me,” Lolly implored him. “When that lady was searching the house, I climbed up on the roof to hide.”

  “And then what?”

  Even James couldn’t tell what Dad was thinking. His face was a mask, but his hands were still trembling.

  “I lay there on the roof,” said Lolly, slowly backing into the study. Dad matched her pace for pace. “Then I heard a noise. I looked over the edge and there was this guy climbing up the drainpipe, looking in at James’s bedroom window. He saw me. He got a gun out and climbed up on the roof.”

  “What did you do?”

  Lolly took a deep breath and stood still. Dad stopped in front of her.

  “Look, I know what you’re thinking. And yes, in the past I probably would have killed him and only cared if I got blood on a new dress.” She drew breath. “But it didn’t happen like that. He came at me, lost his balance and fell off the roof. I swear, I never meant for it to happen.”

  “What then?”

  “I searched him and found his phone. I saw texts to that woman, so I knew he was an agent. I thought that if they found a dead MI5 operative in your garden they’d drag you all off to the same cell as my father. So I picked up the body and took him as far away as I dared. I sent a text from his phone saying he was after me. Then I torched his car, hoping they wouldn’t find him. And that’s the truth.”

  Dad stood looking at his desk, as though he’d never seen it before.

  “You have to believe me,” implored Lolly.

  Dad swallowed hard before answering, but his voice was still strangely robotic, like he was doing his best to keep a lid on his emotions.

  “I believe you,” said Dad, finally. “I just have no idea what to do about it. I think it best if you go to your room now, Lolly. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Lolly didn’t move for nearly a minute. She stood there, her expression a mixture of surprise, worry, and dumbfounded anxiety. Finally she gave James a weak smile, and with that she padded along the hallway back to her bedroom.