Bad Company (11 page)

Magnus Pierce’s face was ashen. He took a step back and looked from Dad to me, puzzled. It was all over in panic-stricken seconds. Handcuffs were snapped on Magnus Pierce’s wrists. He didn’t struggle. He looked straight at the detective who held him and said coldly, ‘I’ll be out of this in days. You know that.’

The policeman grinned at him, and glanced at Dad. ‘Will he, Mr Blythe?’

Dad’s voice was sure with his answer. ‘Not this time,
Magnus. You were holding my daughter against her will.’ His voice was unforgiving. His glance moved to the policeman. ‘I’ll tell you everything you need to know.’

Magnus Pierce’s eyes narrowed viciously and didn’t leave Dad until he was pulled out of the office.

When he had gone, Dad let out a long, exhausted breath. ‘How did you know we were here?’ he asked the policeman.

‘We’ve had a man watching this office for weeks,’ he told Dad. ‘When he saw this young lady,’ he managed a smile in my direction, ‘running inside, looking, shall we say, slightly upset, he contacted us and even before we got here he saw you being escorted into the building by a couple of Pierce’s heavies. He said you looked even more upset than your daughter. It wasn’t too hard to put two and two together.’

Dad held me close, and for the first time, I let him. He was shivering. ‘I was so frightened he’d hurt you. I couldn’t think why you’d gone to see him.’

‘I thought you were going back to work for him,’ I mumbled. ‘When you read my diary you changed. As if you thought all I wanted was money, to go to Adler Academy, to get my old life back.’

He squeezed my arm. ‘It was reading your diary that did change things, Lissa. I realised the same thing that had
happened to me was happening to you. You were being drawn into doing things by someone you thought was a friend. Keeping your mouth shut. Protecting Diane Connell the way I had protected Magnus Pierce. You made me see how wrong that was. That’s when I decided to tell the police everything I knew. No matter how dangerous it might be.’

When he spoke again, his voice was choked with tears. ‘You’ve been caught up in a horrible world, Lissa, and it’s all my fault. No wonder you can’t forgive me.’

But I had created a horrible world of my own, and I couldn’t blame anyone else for that.

I hugged him closer. ‘Don’t worry, Dad. It’s all over now.’

He shook his head. ‘With Magnus Pierce it will never be over.’

Chapter Eighteen

But he was wrong.

Oh yes, Magnus Pierce got out on bail, and we were all afraid.

But he was the one who ‘disappeared’. It was suspected at first that he’d fled the country, but that turned out to be wrong too. Because a few days later a body was found, wrapped in a tarpaulin and buried in a shallow grave. Magnus Pierce had made many enemies and he could never be relied upon to keep his mouth shut the way my dad had.

Yes, my dad. Easy to say it now. He cried the night we heard, not for Magnus Pierce, but because of the dark and sinister world he’d drawn us into. A world, he said, we should have known nothing about so young.

‘It’s all my fault,’ he said, over and over. ‘How could I have been so stupid?’

But I understand now, how you can get caught up with
people, led astray, believing you’re not doing anything that’s
so
bad.

Diane Connell was my Magnus Pierce. And the day after all that excitement I had to go into school and tell the whole truth. I had to stand there, in front of Murdo and Mr Knowles and admit I had lied. Knowing that my lie could have ruined his life. I expected Murdo to bawl at me, rant and rave at me in his anger. But he surprised me again. He only shook his head and pursed his lips and when he finally did speak it wasn’t what I expected at all.

‘It took a lot of courage for you to come here and say this, Lissa. Thank you.’

And that was when I cried. I bubbled like a baby. Murdo didn’t come near me to comfort me and the headmaster only looked embarrassed.

‘Yes. Yes. Go on, have a good greet,’ Murdo said. ‘Let it all out.’

Diane never came back to school. She’s not going to Adler Academy either. After what happened it seemed they rescinded – is that the right word? They withdrew their offer anyway.

I did try to phone her. To explain to her what I’d done and my reasons. But it was her mother who answered.
‘Diane isn’t here,’ she told me in clipped angry tones. ‘And we don’t want you phoning here again.’

I was suspended for a week though I know Murdo didn’t even want that. I didn’t mind. Too many things were happening at home anyway.

It was the longest week of my life. I had no idea how the rest of my class would take what I had done to their favourite teacher. I was dreading going back that day.

June 12th

Murdo was waiting for me at the school gates when I arrived this morning. I deliberately came late, terrified of having to run yet another gauntlet. I waited round the corner till I heard the bell and only made my way to school when my class had safely filed inside
.

And there was Murdo
.

His hair has grown since I last saw him and it stood erect around his head like a burning bush. ‘Ah Lissa, good,’ he said as if he was surprised to see me. As if I didn’t know he had been waiting. ‘You can help me carry some books into class.’

After what I had put him through he was protecting me. Making sure I walked into his class with him by my side. I thought it was such a thoughtful thing to do I almost cried again. ‘You’ve come through a lot over the past few weeks, Lissa,’ he said as we carried copies of
To Kill A Mockingbird
to the classroom. ‘You’ve learned a lot too.’

He knows about Magnus Pierce, of course. It’s been in all the papers, although our involvement in his arrest has been suppressed by the police
.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘With what I’ve learned I could write a book.’

Suddenly, he bellowed a laugh that echoed through the high long corridors. ‘That’s it! You’ll be a writer.’ Then he added with a mischievious twinkle, ‘You certainly know how to tell a tall tale.’ And he sprayed me all over with those ‘T’s
.

A book, I thought. My ‘potential’ at last? Well, I’ve practically written one already with this diary, haven’t I?

So I actually had a smile on my face as I walked behind him into the classroom. The ordeal to come almost forgotten for a moment
.

Almost, but not entirely
.

I stayed as close to Murdo as I dared and put my pile of books down on his desk
.

It took every ounce of courage I had to turn round and face that class. Each of them was looking straight at me and I could read nothing in their stony faces except hate
.

They were never going to talk to me again. Or, did they have a worse punishment in mind? I bit my lip and began walking toward my desk
.

What happened next absolutely stunned me. In a million years I couldn’t have guessed it
.

One by one, the class began to clap, slowly at first, until every one of them was applauding me. Just the way they had applauded Ralph that other day so long ago
.

Even Ralph Aird was clapping. Maybe not so enthusiastically as the rest, but he was clapping just the same
.

I looked around them in amazement, so sure they were winding me up but no. The smiles on their faces were genuine, so were their shouts of praise
.

‘Good for you, Lissa,’ Nancy told me with a smile
.

‘You did the right thing.’

Asra patted me on the back as I passed her. ‘Couldn’t have been easy. Good for you.’

I looked round at Murdo, and he seemed as surprised as I was. This wasn’t what he had expected either. But the smile on his face showed it pleased him too. And suddenly, he was applauding along with everyone else
.

This will go down in history as the best day of my life
.

They all spoke to me at break, Nancy and Asra, welcoming me back to their little circle. We’re all going swimming at the weekend, and I really think if I try hard enough, we can all be real friends again. Real friends, not like Diane
.

It was while we were talking that Ralph Aird slouched toward me, hands in his pockets. I held my breath
.

‘I’m sorry about what I did to your collage,’ I told him right away. ‘I’m really sorry.’

‘So you should be,’ he said in that surly voice of his. He hasn’t a clue how to accept an apology
.

I told him too that I’d been waiting for him to do something awful back to me
.

He leaned against the wall and stared at me. He was chewing gum and blowing bubbles. Trying to look cool, as usual. ‘I planned to,’ he said. ‘Don’t you worry. I kept thinking about all the rotten things I could do to get back at you. But nothing I came up with was bad enough.’

I swallowed. Wondering if he had something bad enough lined up by now
.

He spat his chewing gum on the ground in front of me before he spoke again. ‘But see that day Murdo told the class about me getting commissioned, I watched your face, Lissa Blythe. And do you know what? You were jealous of me. And see, right at that minute,’ he poked his finger at me for emphasis, ‘I knew old Murdo was right. Success is the best revenge. And I decided right then I was going to design the best logo anybody’s ever seen and make you green wi’ envy.’

He laughed right into my face. ‘And see next year, I’m going in for that competition again and I’m going to make an even better collage, starting today – you see this time … I’m going to guard it wi’ my life.’

I didn’t tell him then, but I had already decided to help him. I stayed behind after school and together we pinned up the long banner that stretches right round the classroom walls. A blue banner. Blue for peace
.

I even helped him pin on the first character. ‘Not blinking Harry Potter again,’ I wailed when he brought it in
.

He only sneered. I don’t think we’ll ever get on, Ralph Aird and I, but I’ll tell you something strange. Something I only realised today
.

Diane Connell was wrong about a lot, but she was right about one thing
.

Ralph Aird is dishy
.

Also by Cathy MacPhail

Run, Zan, Run
Missing
Dark Waters
Fighting Back
Another Me
Underworld
Roxy’s Baby
Worse Than Boys

Also:

Nemesis 1: Into the Shadows
Nemesis 2: The Beast Within
Nemesis 3: Sinister Intent
Nemesis 4: Ride of Death

Bloomsbury Publishing, London, New Delhi, New York and Sydney

First published in Great Britain in 2001 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square,
London, WC1B 3DP

This electronic edition published in October 2012 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

Copyright © Catherine MacPhail 2001
The moral right of the author has been asserted

All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

eISBN: 978-1-4088-1653-0

www.macphailbooks.com

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