Authors: Malorie Blackman
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Science Fiction
Thief! (23 page)
‘As soon as the term is over and Danny’s finished school, we’re all going down to your Auntie Vanessa’s. We’re going to spend Christmas with her in London,’ smiled Mum. ‘I think we’ve all had about enough of this town for a while.’
‘How are we going to get there?’ Lydia whispered.
‘To your aunt’s?’
Lydia nodded.
‘By car of course,’ Dad said.
Lydia’s heart began to hammer in her chest.
‘I don’t want to leave Collivale School,’ Lydia said slowly. ‘I want to go back just as soon as I can.’
‘But Lydia, you’ve been pestering me to go to another school ever since . . . ever since that wretched cup was found in your locker,’ argued Mum.
‘I know, but I’ve changed my mind. Please don’t take me out of Collivale.’
‘But . . .’
‘Please . . .’
‘Lydia, I don’t think . . .’
‘Please.’
‘You are a strange child, Lydia.’ Mum sighed.
‘Does that mean I can stay at school until the end of term?’ Lydia asked, tearfully.
‘Yes, I suppose so. If it means that much to you,’ said Mum reluctantly.
‘And Dad, do we have to go to Aunt Vanessa’s this Christmas?’ Lydia began. ‘Can’t we stay in Hensonvi . . . I mean, Tarwich.’
‘No, we cannot,’ Dad replied. ‘I’ve had enough of this place, even if you haven’t.’
Lydia opened her mouth to argue, but then decided that now was not the time.
First things first, Lydia thought to herself.
Before anything else, she had some things to take care of back at school.
Chapter Twenty-Four
With A Little HelpLydia took a deep breath, then another. Wiping her sweaty hand on her skirt first, she opened the classroom door. It was as if a radio had been suddenly switched off. All the chatting and laughing suddenly stopped. Lydia’s face burned.
Mr Fine smiled. ‘Welcome back, Lydia.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Lydia replied, her voice little more than a squeak.
She looked around. All eyes were on her. Anne and Frankie were sitting together. Frankie didn’t smile but she did look pleased to see Lydia, which was more than could be said for Anne.
‘Sit down next to Shaun,’ Mr Fine pointed.
Lydia did as she was told. Shaun pulled his chair away from Lydia and scowled at her. Lydia lowered her head. With that one little thing, Shaun still managed to get to her, even though Lydia had promised herself that she wouldn’t let anyone upset her. Then Lydia remembered how Shaun had looked as a grown-up, with a balding head and a bulging beer belly, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud. Lydia risked a glance around the room. Even though Mr Fine was talking, everyone was watching her. Lydia stared straight ahead. Let them stare. Lydia didn’t care.
‘Could Barry Finley please report to the school secretary during today’s lunch break.’ The school secretary’s voice rang out over the PA system as she repeated the message.
Lydia shook her head. It was almost as if she’d never been away. Today was like any other school day, except for one thing.
Today, she had a number of things to set up. Before the week was over, she was going to sort this thief business once and for all. The only trouble was, she couldn’t do it alone. She needed help. Would she be able to find it?
Lydia leaned against the wall outside her empty classroom, her head tilted back, her eyes closed. And she waited. It’d been two days since she’d returned to school. The name calling had stopped. She was no longer surrounded in the playground and taunted. Instead, no one but the teachers talked to her. It was as if she was a ghost that no one could see. Conversations flowed over and around and through her. No one stopped talking when Lydia approached any more. They didn’t have to. Lydia was treated as if she just wasn’t there. In a way that was even worse than before. Lunchtime smells wafted across the quad from the canteen. They made Lydia feel slightly sick. Her heart was pounding with anticipation. This was it. The only chance she’d get to prove her innocence.
Quick footsteps echoed on the floor. Lydia opened her eyes. Anne was walking towards her. She didn’t even bother to disguise the huge smirk on her face.
‘I want to talk to you.’ Lydia stepped out in front of her.
‘I’m meant to be meeting Frankie here, not you. I don’t have anything to say to you – thief!’ Anne tried to step past Lydia.
Lydia blocked her way.
‘Tough! ’Cause I’ve got plenty I want to say to you,’ Lydia replied.
She grabbed Anne’s arm and pushed her into the deserted classroom. Anne snatched her arm out of Lydia’s grasp.
‘Just what d’you think you’re doing?’ Anne asked indignantly.
‘Anne, I know how you did it,’ said Lydia.
‘Did what?’
‘I know how you put the cup in my locker,’ Lydia said.
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah! You unscrewed the backplate of my locker and put the sports cup in that way.’
Anne stared at Lydia, surprised. Then she pursed her lips. ‘Don’t talk rubbish. Look! I’ve had enough of this.’ Anne pushed Lydia out of her way. Lydia pushed her back.
‘Oh no, you don’t. I want to know why you did it. D’you really hate me that much?’ Lydia said. ‘What did I do?’
Anne didn’t reply. Lydia was getting desperate. It wasn’t working.
‘It’s because of Frankie, isn’t it? You were jealous, weren’t you?’
‘Me? Jealous of you? Do me a favour!’ Anne snapped angrily.
‘That’s it . . . You were jealous,’ goaded Lydia.
‘Frankie is my friend, not yours,’ Anne said icily. ‘It served you right – trying to take Frankie away from me.’
‘So you put the cup in my locker?’
‘Of course I did,’ Anne scoffed. ‘I knew you wouldn’t take it, you prissy sissy. I even slipped a message under Mr Simmers’ door saying that the sports cup was in someone’s locker.’
‘You’re a real cow, Anne!’ Even though Lydia knew it was true, it was still hard for her to believe that anyone could be so spiteful.
‘Call me what you like, I don’t care,’ laughed Anne. ‘And I’m not sorry I did it either.’
‘You will be,’ Lydia said quietly.
‘Oh yeah? Everyone reckons you’re a thief and you can’t prove any different,’ Anne scorned.
‘Yes, I can.’
‘Go on then. What’re you going to make me do? Confess? You make me sick. You really are all talk and no action,’ said Anne.
‘I feel sorry for you, Anne.’ Lydia shook her head sadly. ‘We could’ve been really good friends.’
‘I don’t think so. I never liked you and now neither does anyone else. And serve you right. Now let me out of this room before I knock you down.’
Lydia stared at Anne, wondering that anyone could be so spiteful, so vicious. Anne stepped around Lydia, glowering with contempt. Lydia didn’t turn back. She flinched as Anne slammed the door behind her. Less than a minute later the door opened again. In came Frankie, panting.
Lydia and Frankie watched each other silently.
‘Where were you then?’ Lydia asked.
‘I got held up. Mrs Irving collared me in the corridor.’
‘Anne’s gone.’
‘She confessed?’
‘She didn’t so much confess as boast about it,’ Lydia said with disgust.
‘So did it work?’
Lydia nodded. ‘I think so. I hope so.’
‘You stayed in the corner by the door?’
Lydia nodded. ‘Yeah, just as we rehearsed.’
Silence.
‘She really hates me, doesn’t she,’ Lydia sighed.
‘Well, she’s going to get what she deserves – and not a moment too soon.’ Frankie’s eyes narrowed with delight.
Lydia didn’t reply. Now came the hardest bit – trusting Frankie to do her part . . .
‘Frankie!’ Mr Fine wailed.
Anne whispered something to Frankie. Frankie didn’t answer. She stood up and made her way down to the front of the class. Lydia’s heart was in her mouth as she watched. Frankie had doctored the DVD player so that it wouldn’t start properly when Mr Fine pressed the
PLAY
button. Hence the desperate wail! Without warning, the door opened and in walked Mr Simmers, the headmaster.
PLAY
button. Hence the desperate wail! Without warning, the door opened and in walked Mr Simmers, the headmaster.
‘Ah, Mr Fine, you wanted to see me?’ Mr Simmers strode up to Mr Fine, his eyebrows raised in query.
Mr Fine frowned. ‘I did?’
Now it was Mr Simmers’ turn to frown. ‘Lydia told me that you wanted to see me at the start of your English lesson,’ he explained.
‘She did?’
Both teachers turned to Lydia, as did everyone else in the class. Lydia stood up slowly. She glanced at Frankie who was still fiddling with the DVD player.
Hurry up, Frankie
! Hurry up . . .
! Hurry up . . .
‘What’s going on, Lydia?’ The headmaster’s frown deepened. Frost crept into his voice. ‘Am I correct in thinking that you’ve got me here under false pretences?’
‘I had to, sir,’ Lydia said. ‘I . . . I . . .’
The room lapsed into a deafening silence. Frankie turned around and nodded vigorously to Lydia.
Mr Simmers opened his mouth to speak.
‘I’ve got something to show you, sir,’ Lydia interrupted the headmaster quickly.
Frankie pressed the
PLAY
button on the DVD player. The TV screen instantly flickered into life. Anne was angrily pulling her arm out of Lydia’s grasp. She said something that was lost under Anne’s gasp in the classroom. Frankie turned up the volume.
PLAY
button on the DVD player. The TV screen instantly flickered into life. Anne was angrily pulling her arm out of Lydia’s grasp. She said something that was lost under Anne’s gasp in the classroom. Frankie turned up the volume.
‘I know how you put the cup in my locker,’ Lydia was saying.
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah! You unscrewed the backplate of my locker and put the sports cup in that way.’
The whole conversation, every action, every word, was displayed in glorious technicolour. Each word rang out crystal clear. Anne and Lydia were beautifully framed, slap bang in the middle of the screen. Frankie turned around to Lydia and grinned. No one else in the class noticed. They only had eyes for the drama unfolding before them on the TV screen. And when Anne confessed to planting the cup in Lydia’s locker and told why she did it, even Mr Simmers gave a sharp intake of breath.
‘It’s a lie. I didn’t say that. I didn’t . . .’ Anne sprang to her feet.
The conversation between Anne and Lydia finished. Frankie pressed the
STOP
button.
STOP
button.
‘Mr Simmers, I can play it again if you like. Lydia and I set up my dad’s camcorder this lunchtime and recorded Anne bragging about what she did. Then I ran home and transferred it on to a DVD so you could have your very own copy.’
‘I didn’t do it . . .’ Anne denied weakly.
‘I didn’t take the cup, Mr Simmers. Anne did. I just never had any proof until now,’ Lydia explained quietly.
‘Give me that disc,’ Mr Simmers said grimly.
Frankie pressed the
EJECT
button and handed the DVD over to the headmaster.
EJECT
button and handed the DVD over to the headmaster.
‘Anne, come with me. And you as well, Lydia. And you, Frankie,’ Mr Simmers continued. ‘You’ve all got a lot of explaining to do.’
‘I told you Lyddy didn’t do it,’ said Danny proudly. ‘I hope that other girl gets suspended!’
‘They won’t do that. Frankie told me that Anne’s mum is one of the school’s governors!’ said Lydia.
‘Tell me what happened again!’ Danny said eagerly.
‘But I’ve already told you four times,’ Lydia protested.
‘Tell me again,’ Danny pleaded.
‘Mr Simmers played the DVD in his office and Anne tried to deny it. She said that Frankie and me had doctored the DVD. Then she said that she was just playing up to me and, when that didn’t work, she even tried to say that it was Frankie pretending to be her on the DVD!’
Danny sat back and laughed like a drain at that, even though he’d heard it before.
‘And then when that didn’t work, she started crying to get Mr Simmers’ sympathy. She didn’t have much luck with that either!’ Lydia said with satisfaction. ‘Mr Simmers sent me and Frankie back to our class and, as we were leaving, he was phoning Anne’s parents.’
‘She should get expelled, not suspended,’ Danny said vehemently.
‘You said it!’ Mum and Dad spoke in unison and nodded in vigorous agreement, their heads moving at exactly the same time.
They turned to each other and burst out laughing. The Henson household was back to normal. Ever since Mum and Dad had received the news that the real thief had been found, it was as if all the windows in the house had been thrown wide open, letting in daylight and fresh air after weeks of darkness. Mum and Dad were actually laughing again.
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