Desperate Measures (8 page)

I got up out of the bed and pulled on my trainers. A holiday every single day. I liked that idea.

Jamie was already downstairs with Elizabeth. He was eating cornflakes.

‘All set?’ Elizabeth asked, looking at Vicky.

Vicky nodded and grinned.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For everything.’ She gave Elizabeth a hug.

‘You’ve got a good head on those shoulders. I know you’ll use it. Your Great Aunt is a very lucky woman.’

We picked up our rucksacks. I still had the little penguin in my hand. I held it out to Elizabeth.

‘This is yours,’ I said.

She felt it with her wrinkly hand.

‘Keep it,’ she said with a smile. ‘He might bring you luck.’

‘Thank you,’ I said. I popped him into my coat pocket and zipped it up so he couldn’t fall out and I wouldn’t lose him.

We all walked down through the garden along a windy path, past a little stream. It was a very big garden. It was bigger than the park at home and much much nicer. There were no smashed up fridges in the bushes or beer cans on the grass.

We went down another little road with more statues till we got to some big gates. Next to one of the gates was a little house. Elizabeth said this was the lodge. Inside we could hear dogs barking.

‘It’s all right,’ Elizabeth told us, ‘the owners lock them up during the day while they’re out.’

She told us how to get to the station and we all said goodbye and she hugged us and then leaned on her stick and watched us walk off down the road. I looked back after a while. She was still there. She was very small like a little bird. She gave us one last wave and then we went round the bend and we couldn’t see her any more.

It took a long time to get to the station. Vicky showed me where we were going on the map – it didn’t look far but it took ages. I was getting fed up and wanted to sit down and have a rest but bossy old Vicky said I couldn’t. She said we had to keep going.

I’d never been on a train before. At the station the man behind the glass gave us our tickets and said, ‘Enjoy your trip.’ Vicky and Jamie went over to the board to check what time our train was. I sat down on a bench to wait for them and took my penguin out of my pocket but then this man came up and sat down next to me.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘That’s a nice little penguin.’

‘I know,’ I said.

‘Do you like animals?’ he asked.

I nodded.

‘So do I,’ he said. ‘But I like real ones best. I’ve got some
lovely puppies back at my house. They’re only a few weeks old. I don’t suppose you like puppies though . . .’

‘Oh yes . . . I love them,’ I said.

Then Vicky came over. I don’t know why but the man got up and hurried out of the station and down the street. Vicky took my hand and pulled me towards the toilets.

‘But I’ve just been Vicky!’ I told her but she still rushed me in there.

‘I’m not a baby. I don’t need to go every two seconds,’ I told her.

She didn’t take any notice. She just started filling up our drinks bottles from the tap. ‘You mustn’t talk to anyone, Re, not a word!’

‘You can’t tell me what to do – you’re not Mum. Anyway I was only doing a conversation. Mrs Edward says doing a conversation is a Life Skill.’

‘I don’t care what Mrs Edwards says!’

‘I’ll tell her you said that.’

Vicky made a groaning noise. ‘Stuff Mrs Edwards,’ she said. ‘Come on. The train’ll be here any minute.’

I was really cross with her. She was always bossing me around. I went back into one of the toilets and sat down on the seat.

‘Re!’ she yelled. ‘Come on.’

I didn’t budge.

‘What’s the matter now?’

‘I’m not talking to you,’ I said. ‘And I’m not doing anything you say. So put that in your nuckets and smoke it.’

‘Rhianna!’

‘I can’t hear you . . .’ She put her hands over her ears and started singing to herself. Something told me this wasn’t going to be easy.

‘Please, Rhianna, not now . . .’ She turned her back on me. Outside on the platform I could hear the tannoy announcing our train. What if Jamie got on and we were left here? I glanced through the open window and saw him right at the end of the crowded platform. He was too far away for me to call out without having to shout – we couldn’t afford to draw attention to ourselves.

‘Rhianna, you’ve got to come, right now. I mean it!’ I could hear my voice getting tighter and tighter, and her tuneless singing getting louder and louder. This wasn’t going to work. I looked through the window at Jamie again
then back to Re. She was so infuriating sometimes; I could throttle her. I knew I couldn’t force her out on to the platform – she was much bigger and stronger than me – and if I tried, she’d throw a wobbly. There was only one thing to do. It was going to be a gamble but I had no choice. I took a deep breath and fought hard to keep my voice sounding light and unconcerned.

‘OK, Re. You stay here. That’s fine. I’m going on the train with Jamie.’ I turned to go. ‘Bye, then . . .’

The singing faltered slightly but I knew I had to call her bluff. I kept on going, desperately resisting the temptation to turn round. I forced my legs to walk through the door. Outside on the platform there were crowds of people waiting. The stationmaster was helping an old couple with their suitcases. I avoided his eye and sidled past him towards Jamie. The train pulled up and he eagerly bounded forward. I called to him to hang on but it was too late; he hadn’t heard and was already scrambling aboard.

I rushed up to the train, my palms sweating and my heart pounding. I looked round. No sign of Re. Jamie appeared at the window inside one of the carriages and grinned.

‘Where’s Rhianna?’ he mouthed through the glass.

I felt sick. The panic was rising. How could I have been so stupid to leave her on her own in that toilet? What was I thinking of and what on earth was I going to do now? I tried to motion to Jamie to get off the train but he thought I was telling him to put his bag on the luggage rack and turned away. People streamed around me but I was rooted
to the spot. I just didn’t know what to do. Who should I go after – Re or Jamie? In a few more seconds the train doors would close, and the train would pull away, taking Jamie with it, but if I leapt on, it would mean leaving Re on her own and that didn’t bear thinking about. But would Jamie know what to do if the train went off without us? He wasn’t the most clued-up kid in the world.

I had to stay with Re and get Jamie off the train. I started to bang on the window. A man in a beige suit turned and glared disapprovingly at me. I smiled apologetically and he tutted and shook his head, muttering to a woman in a green coat. At this rate, we’d be discovered any second but I had to do something. Ignoring the man, I started thumping frantically on the window again. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and froze.

I turned round, expecting to be confronted by the angry stationmaster, but to my relief I saw Re standing in front of me, her face blotchy and red.

‘Don’t ever do that again!’ I hissed, yanking her hand off my shoulder. She reeled back as if I’d hit her. Tears started to roll down her bewildered moon face.

‘I’m sorry, Vicky. I’m sorry.’

She was shaking and so was I. I put my arm tightly round her and bit my lip till I could taste blood. ‘It’s OK. Don’t cry any more.’

The guard blew his whistle as the last few passengers got on. I hurried Re on to the train and looked round for Jamie. He was standing at the end of the now crowded carriage.

‘What took you so long?’ he asked, staring at me accusingly.

Most of the seats were taken so we made our way into the next carriage. Re had finally stopped crying but was hiccupping noisily. She wouldn’t let go of my hand, and in a way I didn’t want her to.

The train was packed with half-term holidaymakers and nobody really noticed us. Eventually we found a table between four seats. A man with a beard was sitting in the far corner. In front of him, he had a little radio, which was reporting the cricket. I hate cricket, it’s sooooo boring. He must have thought so too. His eyes were tight shut and he was snoring really loudly. We sank down in the three spare seats and, for the first time that day, I allowed myself to relax.

I looked out of the window while Re chatted happily to Jamie, her tears forgotten. We drank the water out of our bottles – it tasted disgusting but we were all so thirsty we didn’t care any more. We were on our way, whizzing out of the town, past endless fields and woods, then a river with men fishing, horses grazing and a family out picnicking.

Gradually the countryside became wilder and craggier and bare hills loomed in the distance. The rhythm of the train seemed to be saying, ‘You’re nearly there, you’re nearly there.’ We stopped at some stations – people got off but loads more got on to replace them. Each time the train started up its reassuring chant again. ‘You’re nearly there, you’re nearly there, you’re nearly there.’

Guiltily, I thought of Paul and Sarah. It was horrible
not knowing what was happening. Please, please, please let their baby be OK, I thought. I imagined them in the hospital, Paul sitting by Sarah’s bed waiting for her to wake up, or waiting for the doctors to come round, or encouraging her to eat something. I knew the routine. I’d done it with Mum. I hoped they were too caught up in their own troubles to worry too much about us. An uncomfortable thought struck me. Dad would know by now too. What would he be thinking?

I forced myself to think of something else. Matt. No. Rosie? I desperately wanted to text or ring her but I’d deliberately kept my phone switched off. I knew the police could trace calls. It was much too risky.

I shut my eyes and decided that I had to think positive. To look forwards, not backwards. When we got to Great Auntie Irene’s, she’d be surprised to see us of course but she’d give us something good to eat and tell us everything was going to be all right from now on and I didn’t need to worry any more. She might have been really old but she had all her marbles and she’d sort everything out. When we were first taken away from Dad, Mrs Frankish had asked if we had any other family who could look after us. There was only Uncle Mac or Great Auntie Irene. Uncle Mac runs a sheep farm somewhere in Australia and Mrs Frankish said we weren’t going there. When she found out Great Auntie Irene was eighty-one and didn’t have a phone, she said staying with her wasn’t an option and we weren’t to bother her.

I should never have listened to the old bat – Great Auntie Irene was family.

It really would be like a fantastic holiday, I thought. Better even. It would be like coming home. A proper home. And, if we could never go back to Paul and Sarah’s, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. We’d make a new life, start new schools and make new friends – no one like Rosie maybe, but she was a one-off. Re would come on leaps and bounds with Great Auntie Irene’s help. She loved reading stories with her. And Jamie would settle down at last. He’d finally stop whacking people. He was always so gentle with Jip – that dog brought out the soft side of him. They’d play together for hours in Auntie’s huge garden and he’d make loads of dens and camps but she wouldn’t mind a bit. She was like that. Maybe she’d even let us camp out on the island again. And we’d help her too – earn our keep with the chores like shopping or cleaning. Even Re could help wash up or lay the table so us being there would be good for her too. And we’d be company.

‘Old people get lonely,’ Great Auntie Irene told me once. ‘We like to have you youngsters around to shake things up a bit and remind us we’re still alive!’

I thought of Elizabeth back in her huge mansion with just her memories for company. We could go back and see her. Visit. Take Great Auntie Irene. The pair would get on like a house on fire. They’d be swapping wartime memories like there was no tomorrow. I smiled to myself. Everything was going to be perfect.

I opened my eyes. Re and Jamie were playing noughts and crosses on a scrap of paper. Jamie was letting her win for a change and she had a big grin on her face. The radio
was still on but the cricket seemed to have given way to the news. I double-checked our map, mentally ticking off the stations we’d already stopped at and planning our route when we got off at the station after the next one. Suddenly something the newsreader said made me sit up sharp.

‘. . . the three missing children, non-identical twin girls aged fourteen and a boy of ten . . .’

I froze. Jamie and Re hadn’t heard. The newsreader began to describe our exact appearance. Hardly daring, I glanced over to the people sitting on the other side of the aisle. They were chatting and laughing at the moment but how long would it take one of them to notice us? I quickly reached over and flicked the radio off. The man with the beard immediately started to stir.

‘Quick, get up,’ I urged Jamie and Rhianna.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Jamie.

The man picked up his radio, puzzled at its abrupt silence. He shook it, then realising it had been turned off, glared at us, switched it on again even louder, giving us another rude stare.

‘Appeals for the children to return home have so far been unsuccessful and police are becoming increasingly concerned for their welfare and safety. And now the weather . . .’

Jamie went white and grabbed his bag. I got Re to her feet and started ushering her out of the carriage following Jamie. We passed a woman in a red jumper who glanced up at the three of us.

There was a flicker of surprise in her expression. She looked as if she was about to say something but I didn’t
wait around to listen; I bundled Jamie and Re into the next carriage. The train was coming into a station.

‘What’s the matter, Vicky?’ Re asked.

‘We’ve got to get off now, Re. Right now.’

‘But we’ve only done five stations. I counted. You said six.’

‘Never mind. Come on. Bring your bag.’

We moved quickly through the carriages to the other end of the train and when it came to a halt and we could finally open the door, we leapt out.

It was a tiny station surrounded by countryside in the middle of nowhere, with large pots full of bright red geraniums and a white picket fence. It was very quiet and completely deserted except for a few hikers in shorts and walking boots, who got off at the same time as us.