Perfectly Reflected (8 page)

“Oh, Callum, hang on for a moment; I need to take some cash out.” One bank had a row of ATMs outside. I got into the shortest queue and was quickly at the front of the line. I put my card in the slot and punched in my PIN and my request for cash. Nothing happened, and then the machine flashed an error message at me. I frowned. It seemed unlikely that there was a problem; they must have made a mistake. I tried again. The same message popped up:
You have insufficient funds for this transaction
. I knew it was wrong; the account held all my money, all the savings for buying my car, all my babysitting takings, everything. I quickly pressed the button to ask for a mini-statement. The machine finally spat out a small piece of paper, then returned my card.

I looked at the statement with a sinking feeling in my stomach. My bank account had been wiped clean. 

Bank Robber

Not a penny was left. I became aware of the queue of people behind me pressing to get to the machine, and at the same time Callum’s voice, getting more urgent.

“Alex, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

I mumbled an apology to the guy behind me then stumbled to the side of the pavement, out of the way. “It’s all gone,” I whispered, holding up the mouthpiece. “All my money, everything. Look!” I lifted up the statement as if I was reading it, giving Callum the chance to scan it over my shoulder before I buried my head in my hands. I couldn’t believe that my mystery tormentor had found another way to get to me.

From what seemed to be a great distance I could hear a voice in my head, calling me anxiously. “Alex! Can you hear me? We have to keep calm, work this out.”

I opened my eyes and found that I was slumped on the steps outside the door to the bank, with my fists pressed against my forehead. “Alex?” The voice was now gentle, with a hint of relief. “Come on, you need to move. You’re attracting attention.” I lifted my head and looked around. Several people were staring at me, and across the road a women standing next to a policeman was pointing in my direction. I levered myself upright, muttering to the little crowd, “I’m all right, just felt a little dizzy.” I took a
deep breath and started to walk down the Strand. Callum quickly caught up.

“Are you OK? For a second there you went a bit weird.”

“I’m fine. Well, not fine, I guess. This is so unfair!” I couldn’t stop the outburst any more than I could stop the tears that suddenly appeared. I walked as quickly as I could, brushing past the dawdling tourists who cluttered the pavements. I dived into the courtyard of Somerset House trying to find somewhere private, but it was full of families enjoying the fountains. I knew that if I went through the building at the end I could get to the river terrace. I couldn’t trust myself to speak, and Callum was obviously waiting until I stopped moving. He kept up with me though; I could feel the comforting tingle in my arm. I practically ran through the cool marble entrance hall and out of the door back into the bright sunshine. The river terrace was busy, with most of the tables taken up with people eating sandwiches and poring over maps and guidebooks. But the east end was practically empty. It had no tables and was occupied only by a few kids running around. I walked quickly to the far end, where I could see St Paul’s in the distance, towering over the local office blocks.

By then the tears were well on their way, streaming down my face. I reached the stone balustrade and sank down in the corner, pulling my knees in tight, overwhelmed by the problems I was facing. Callum was there, stroking my hair in as soothing a way as he could manage, trying to make me feel better as usual.

I realised I was being unfair. He lived in a world of misery and grief, yet
he
was trying to comfort
me
. I sniffed loudly and tried unsuccessfully to find a tissue in my jeans pocket. “I’m sorry, Callum. I didn’t mean to lose it like that.” My hand found the mirror so I propped it up on my knee where I could see his face.
His usually sparkling blue eyes were shadowed with concern, a frown creasing his forehead as the gentle breeze ruffled his thick hair. I smiled weakly. “We’re a right pair, aren’t we?”

“Alex, don’t joke. Someone over there really does have it in for you. What if they’re dangerous as well as criminal?”

“It’s OK,” I sniffed. “Come on, we both need to keep a sense of perspective. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry. It was just the shock.” I tried to keep my voice even as the panic and fear crawled through my stomach again. My breathing was ragged, uneven; I had to calm down.

I fixed my eyes on his, and as I watched the concern on his face I felt my resolve strengthen. I could see that he knew what I was thinking, and I watched as he rested his cheek against mine.

“Are you sure you’re OK, Alex?”

I could feel the echo of a touch where his face had pressed mine, and love made me strong. I wiped away the tears.

“Absolutely. We need to find out who is doing this and stop them. I promise not to fall apart if you promise to help me. Deal?”

His tone was dubious, but I felt him gather himself together. “OK then, deal. We fight. I guess we need a bit of a plan.” It was his turn to take a deep breath. “So, what do we know? Let’s look at what’s happened so far and see if we can guess what they might do next.”

I nodded. That seemed reasonable. I lifted up my free hand and started to tick things off. “First was the golf ball, then the e-mail with all the personal information about Abbi, and then the stuff with Graham. And now – now they’ve stolen all the money from my account.”

“Right. The broken window has been the most straightforward attack so far, it didn’t need any specific knowledge
like a password or anything, but, even so, your name was on the note so it wasn’t a random thing.” He paused for a moment, frowning. “How easy is it to empty a whole bank account? How much money was in there?”

“Nearly two thousand pounds. I’ve been saving to get a car when I finally pass my test.”

“So how was it taken out? Was it transferred into another account, or was it taken out as cash? Can you tell from the statement?”

“Just a sec, I’ll check.” I rummaged in my pockets until I found the crumpled piece of paper. I smoothed it out over my knee, then held it down so that the gentle breeze blowing along the terrace didn’t whisk it away. I looked at the faint lettering. The last transaction had been in Richmond, in the main branch there, but although it gave the date, it didn’t say what time or how the money had been taken out.

“Well, it was stolen on Thursday, so not that long ago,” Callum said, reading over my shoulder. “Once you talk to the bank you should be able to get some more details. Let’s go back in there now, see what we can find out.”

“Brilliant!” I said, leaping to my feet and disturbing a small flock of pigeons that had settled on the wall next to us. “Hang on though, it’s Saturday afternoon. They won’t be open. I’ll have to check online when we get home.”

I saw Callum peer across my shoulder and down at my watch. “Come on then. If we hurry you can get the next train, otherwise it’s a long wait.”

I checked my watch. His idea of how quickly I could get to Waterloo and mine were entirely different. “You might be able to go that fast, but my legs don’t work like that. I could probably get
the bus though.” I pulled myself upright and adjusted my earpiece. “See you at the station,” I called as I started to run to the bus stop. The tingle went from my wrist and I concentrated on getting to the train on time.

I made it to the platform with just a minute to spare, and grabbed a seat at the back of the train. It was so frustrating to have to sit and do nothing. I scanned through a discarded newspaper, but that didn’t take long. In the end I pulled out my phone and scrolled down to the little-used notes function. I might as well spend the time trying to work out who disliked me so much and who also knew all my personal details. But after twenty minutes I shut it down with a sigh. I had a shortlist of girls from school who didn’t like me for various reasons, but no one with a particularly vicious grudge. I had no idea who it could be.

When the train finally arrived at my station I practically jogged home. I wished yet again that I was fitter and that I had Callum’s speed. Back at the house everyone was out, so I quickly ran up to my bedroom and switched on the computer. The silence in the house was interrupted only by the noise of the odd passing car and the impatient drumming of my fingers on the desk. I was conscious of Callum next to me, but he didn’t speak, letting me concentrate on getting logged on. Finally I got to enter the bank details and the screen I wanted opened.

“Are you looking at this, Callum?” I asked as I scanned down the list of transactions to get to the most recent.

“Uh-huh. I’m right here. So what do you—” He stopped abruptly. I got there a fraction after him. The transaction was very clear: at 15.37pm on Thursday, when I was sitting in the police station, the entire balance of my account had been withdrawn as cash.

“So someone walked in there, bold as brass, and took every last penny. How dare they?” I was incensed. Did they know where I was at the time, that there was no chance of them being caught in the act, or was it all a coincidence? How much more about my life were they going to try and ruin? I could feel my eyes prick with tears again, tears of frustration because it felt that there was nothing I could do.

“Alex, I’m so sorry. What can I do to help?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose in an effort to stop the tears, and breathed in sharply. It was pointless getting upset; that would be what they wanted. I had to focus, to think. I looked up at Callum’s concerned face. “Talk to me. We need to see if we can thrash this out, find a common thread,
something
! You don’t get this level of abuse from your average stalker. There has to be something tying this all together.”

As I spoke I could feel his gentle embrace around me, as if he were trying to keep me safe. For a second I longed to be up at the dome, to be feeling the full strength of his arms as he protected me. I wanted to let someone else take charge for a moment, to let someone else make the decisions and face the consequences, and I wanted that person to be Callum. This was just getting too hard for me to bear.

But there
was
no one else who could help; I was going to have to keep going alone, relying only on Callum’s support to see me through. “Help me, Callum,” I whispered. “Help me to figure this out.”

I could see him frown as he stared unseeingly at the mess strewn across my desk. “Well,” he said eventually, “this seems to be a straightforward theft, and they
will
have left clues. You need to report it, and quickly. They are bound to have some record, some
proof of who took the money out, and we can then see who it is who is doing all this. You might also get the money back given that you do have a cast-iron alibi.”

For the first time in hours I felt myself smile; he was absolutely right. I quickly scanned the website for a phone number to call out of hours, then had a lengthy and really frustrating conversation with the bank. They initially refused to believe that it had been nothing to do with me. Apparently the person taking out the money had all the right passwords and security numbers for the account, so there had been no problems in handing all the money over. I wasn’t getting anywhere so I told the woman on the phone that I would be calling the police. That didn’t worry her as much as I had hoped, so I realised I was going to have to follow through with my threat.

By then I had finally managed to get myself immensely angry about the whole mess, so I demanded a number from her and promised her I would be ringing back. Callum had stayed quiet throughout the conversation, as I couldn’t follow two of them at the same time. As I angrily cut her off he was back by my side doing his best to calm me down.

“I think you should talk to your parents about this. I’m sure they’ll be able to help – if nothing else they’ll be able to shout at the bank for you.”

I lifted my head from where I had buried it in my arm on the desk in frustration. “I suppose,” I agreed reluctantly. I really hadn’t wanted to involve them in any of this, but the situation had gone way beyond my ability to control it.

“They’re downstairs now,” he added gently. “They got home about five minutes ago.”

I knew he was right. I sighed loudly, then quickly took a
printout of the transactions so that I could show them. “You won’t go anywhere, will you? You’ll stay with me?”

He smiled one of his most devastating smiles. “Of course. I’ll be right here.”

Downstairs my parents were unloading the shopping.

“Hi, sweetheart. You’re back early,” said Mum from the depths of one of the kitchen cupboards. “What’s wrong?” she added when she stood up and looked at my face. “Has something happened?”

Dad was quickly at my side as I told them about the theft. They fired questions at me and pored over the printout.

“This is getting beyond a joke, Alex,” Dad said darkly. “Someone really doesn’t like you very much.”

“Honestly Dad, I haven’t a clue who it could be.”

“Well, I’m calling the bank, and then I guess it’s probably back to the police station.”

I was pleased to have handed some responsibility over to him. He had several really long calls to various people at the bank, and then the police. It was pretty clear that it couldn’t have been me, not with the alibi I had, but the bank were very keen to make a formal identification of the person making the transaction, and obviously believed that it would be someone I knew and that I would be able to help.

It all took an incredible amount of time. I finally managed to slip away to the bathroom and talk with Callum. “It looks like this could take the rest of the night, so you might as well go and do your gathering and get back to St Paul’s. We can start working on our plan tomorrow.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” he agreed dubiously. “I don’t like leaving you but I can’t see any way around it.”