The Castle (26 page)

FIFTY-SIX

T
he Jongleur made it, but only just. The Italian police wanted to arrest Dad for shooting him, Wahool wanted Dad dead, and the people of Marvalia wanted to give him a medal. But Mike Jones was officially dead already, so none of these things could happen.

The days that followed were busy.

Three children without passports somehow found their way to England, where they were all looked after in a hotel on the south coast.

The Marvalian government hired top legal teams to requisition two superyachts and an island off the coast of Italy, several other properties around the world, lots of
offshore bank accounts and a very valuable art collection (somewhat damaged).

A lot of rich ex-Marvalians and a well-known arms dealer were sent to jail, awaiting trial for conspiracy to overthrow a legitimate government.

Max and Omar Wahool had to pull out of their top private colleges, because their family's assets had been frozen and they couldn't afford the fees. Max was arrested not long afterwards for a violent attack on a fellow student. His Interface page hasn't been updated for a while. Yasmin, meanwhile, has started going around in public with an unsuitable boy so poor he actually has to work for a living. Mrs Wahool has twice been seen at charity dinners in
creased clothing
. She no longer makes the best-dressed list.

Two famous Marvalian heroes of the revolution returned to their country, where the people held a ticker-tape parade. One was in hospital for a while before returning to the government as the youngest Justice Minister in history, and the other has returned to writing her blog. It's called
Hope Is Blue.

Epilogue

She talks to me on Interface. She says it is not too bad at her private school, but she misses her friend Luke. She talks too much about Luke, I think. Sometimes I joke that
I
should use crutches. I hope she knows it is a joke. She would miss me too, she says, but as I say . . . we talk on Interface every day. We play live chess. I beat her every time, but she will not give up. She does not give up, Peta Jones. She does not give up, or in. She does not know how.

She asked me about my friend, Mr Johnson. She wanted to understand how a man who was so kind to me could be so unkind also. She has not met so many men like this yet, but I have met many. They are greedy, that is all. They are kind sometimes, but they are greedy all the time. That is why I did not tell Mr Johnson about the outside tunnel. Or the money I saved from playing card tricks on the guards, which I kept in a special belt. It is against my religion to make bets, but I hoped that the money would somehow, one day, save my sister. I am sure God will forgive me. I have given the money to Amina now.

I am like Peta Jones, I think. I do not give up or give in. When I am rich and famous we will return to Marvalia and find my father, if he is still alive. Parissa and her government
friends are searching on my behalf, but they have not found him yet.

First, I must study. I live with a good family in the city and I go to an excellent college, where they teach me about art and science and literature. I attend the mosque. My sister is back home in our village, going to school in the daytime and fishing in the evening. She tells me she is not little any more, but that cannot be true.

Every day I say thank you to Peta Jones but she says,
No, I must thank you, Karim. You saved my life. Twice. Many times, in fact.
This is true, but I don't use crutches. I am not sure I can compare with her Psycho Mirror friend.

At the weekends she goes home to her mother and the rich husband-who-is-not-a-husband, and she is happy, I think. But in the summer . . . the summer . . .

In the summer, we will meet up with her father-who-is-not-dead. We will go to Florence and discover the works of the great painters. We will eat ice cream, she says, and learn Italian and karate, and jiving, and make plans to find my father. She will beat me at chess. (Ha! She says this, but it is not true. She gets better every day, but she forgets: I get better too.)

She will show me the Ponte Vecchio. I do not know what this is, but when she says the words, they sound beautiful.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you to my parents, for all the adventures we had as a young family, exploring the world together, and for all your support and encouragement for every story I've written, published and unpublished. And for your help with this book.

As always, thank you to Barry Cunningham, Rachel Hickman, Imogen Cooper, Laura Myers and the team at Chicken House, and to Bella Pearson, editorial genius, who found Peta in this story and encouraged her to shine.

Thank you, too, to Richard Barber for the fun we had considering the London property market, and John Munford for being the fount of all knowledge about the interiors of luxury yachts – though I must assure readers that the design of this one was my own. Also to Tim Rawlins for your help with my security questions, and to Belinda and Katie Lewis, for going beyond the call of duty with details about the Circumvesuviana. And this goes back a long way, but eternal thanks are due to Pia, Saverio and Eleonora Savio for introducing me to Florence as a teenager, and being such generous hosts. Also Petri, Tera, Zetta and Atto Allas: you've been great friends and you inspired Peta's name, and all that followed, so thank you for that.

Simon Singh's books,
The Code Book: The Secret History of Codes and Code-breaking
and
Fermat's Last Theorem
encouraged my interest in maths and codes. They're adventure stories in themselves and I heartily recommend them both.

My stories always end up being about friendship. Thank you to my girlfriends, who make life something to celebrate. The writing sisterhood: Keris, Cat, Keren, Luisa, Suise and
Tamsyn. (Keren, thank you for the title.) The yoga team: Kasia, Clare, Rebecca and Jen. And now, the walking sister-hood: Cynthia, Kim, Nicki, Lucy and Jane.

Emily, Sophie, Freddie and Tom, you are always my inspiration.

Alex, you make life possible. You found the island for me, read the drafts more times than I dare remember, and you are my team. One day, I must show you the Ponte Vecchio.

WHAT YOU CAN DO

This story was partly inspired by my fury and frustration that, nearly 200 years after slavery was abolished, domestic slavery is flourishing in the 21st century. It can happen anywhere. If you suspect abuse, please report it to the police. And if you want to help, check out
stopthetraffik.org
, who work with Comic Relief. They have resources for schools with several ideas for things you can do. Together, we can make the world a better place.