Piotr grinned at Minnie. ‘You don’t believe I have one, do you?’
Minnie sincerely hoped he had, otherwise they had just sent Flora into the lion’s den with the lion very much at home.
‘Omar’s van is back.’ Piotr pointed to a white van parked on the street in front of them. ‘And there’s a red flashing light on the dashboard, see?’
Minnie could just see a little LED beside the steering wheel.
‘Well,’ Piotr continued, ‘that is a car alarm. What would you do if your van alarm suddenly went off in the middle of the day for no reason?’
Minnie grinned. ‘I’d come running out of my shop to see whether my van was being stolen or not!’
‘How do we make it go off?’ Minnie asked. She didn’t want to smash a window, or do anything that might bring the SOCO team.
‘A good shove will usually do it,’ Piotr said. ‘I’ve kicked enough footballs at cars by mistake to know that. You ready?’
Minnie nodded.
Piotr launched himself off the bench and ran towards the van. He ducked down behind it. Minnie was right beside him in moments. They crouched low, keeping the broad side of the van between them and the shop front. The traffic trundled past alongside them, sending fumes and dust in their general direction. Minnie covered her nose.
‘Put your back into it, on three,’ Piotr whispered.
Minnie spun around so that her back was resting against the van’s side panel. She laid both palms on its grimy surface. She could feel the grit under the pads of her fingertips.
‘One, two, three, shove!’
Minnie landed her weight on the van at the exact same moment as Piotr. The van shook violently. Immediately, a high-pitched wail went up.
‘Move!’ Piotr grabbed Minnie’s hand and dashed across the road between a narrow gap in the traffic. The van was still blaring out angrily.
‘This way!’ Piotr leaped behind a tree, making the small child who was standing there, counting, jump.
‘Are you “it”?’ Piotr asked.
The child nodded.
‘Well, time’s up. Go look for the others.’
The child nodded obediently, then yelled, ‘Coming, ready or not!’ at the top of her lungs and scampered away.
Minnie and Piotr pressed themselves close to the bark, then peered around at the van.
It was still shrieking. A few pedestrians looked at it, mildly curious, but there was no movement from the dry cleaner’s.
‘Come on,’ Piotr whispered, ‘come out.’
Minnie gripped the tree trunk. She willed Omar to leave the shop, to just move, get out!
Just as she could stand it no more, a figure appeared in the doorway. Omar. His white coat whipped around him as he trotted over to his van. They heard a keypad chirrup and the alarm went silent. Omar stalked around the vehicle, checking the bodywork for dents or scratches. He rested his hand on the bonnet and gave it a little pat, as though it were an obedient dog.
Then a second figure appeared at the door. Smaller, redder. Flora.
She had something stuffed up her top.
Had Omar seen?
His hand was still on the bonnet, but one step back towards the pavement and he’d see Flora and her bulge.
‘We need to do something!’ Minnie said desperately.
Piotr picked up a loose stone, waited until a bus had passed, then hurled it as hard as he could towards the van. It pinged loudly off the broad side.
‘Oi!’ Omar rushed round to have a look. He ran his hand along the paintwork then glared at the passing bus.
It was just enough time.
While he looked right, Flora darted left. She raced along the road, past the gallery and the grill house in a matter of seconds, her thin legs as speedy as a gazelle’s.
‘She can run!’ Minnie said in admiration.
‘So can we. Let’s see what she’s stuffed up her jumper!’
They weaved between the plane trees, putting more distance between them and Omar. Soon they were by the market. Flora was forced to stop running. She dropped against a wall. Her face was flushed bright pink, with strands of copper hair plastered to her forehead.
‘You OK?’ Minnie asked.
Flora nodded. She was too out of breath to speak. Instead, she reached under her top and pulled out a bundle of green fabric.
‘The T-shirt!’ Minnie said.
Flora grinned. ‘Stitch,’ she said between gasps. She held it up by the shoulders. It was smaller than Minnie remembered. Up close it smelled, ever so slightly, of spices and grime. It had the streets of Lagos in its weave.
‘I was too far away to read the label,’ Flora said. ‘And when Omar ran out of the shop, I didn’t know how much time I’d have. So I just grabbed it right off the rack. I stole it!’
‘You did the right thing,’ Piotr said.
‘Let’s see the label,’ Minnie said.
Flora flipped the neck of the T-shirt. A white receipt with the ace of spades logo was pinned to the seam.
‘Someone paid for it to be cleaned. Someone took it from the boy,’ Minnie said. ‘Does it say who?’
Flora read the label quickly. Then she nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It does.’