At morning break, Nesta and Amy sat together on a bench in the cloakroom. It was a cold, damp day and the rules about going out were fortunately relaxed. Mrs Powell insisted on orderly behaviour; prefects and duty staff made themselves visible; but she could see no point in driving hard bargains. So, on days like this, classrooms and corridors and cloakrooms were all available. Nesta and Amy had the junior cloakroom virtually to themselves, a good place for a quiet conversation.
‘Listen, Amy,’ said Nesta as soon as they were settled, ‘I have something to tell you.’
Amy looked at Nesta’s intense expression and knew that the ‘something’ must be serious.
‘And you mustn’t tell anybody else,’ Nesta went on, ‘even if you think telling might help. It wouldn’t. It’s not like the time I was being bullied. You’ll have to promise not to tell a soul.’
‘If you don’t trust me, don’t tell me,’ said Amy, not huffily but in her usual commonsense manner. ‘I never break promises. So if I promise not to tell I won’t, no matter what.’
‘Well, promise then. Solemnly promise,’ said Nesta. Her eyes darkened. She gripped Amy’s arm.
Amy smiled slightly and pushed her glasses back on to the bridge of her nose. ‘I, Amy Brown, do solemnly swear never to tell anybody whatever you trust me with now.’
‘Don’t make fun, Amy. I mean it.’
‘So do I,’ said Amy. ‘It might have sounded like fun, but I mean every word. So what is the secret?’
‘I’m going to run away,’ said Nesta simply, and then waited for what Amy would say to that.
Amy was startled. She looked hard at Nesta but said nothing. She had made a promise, and already she felt like breaking it! Running away was dangerous. Nesta could have no idea what she was thinking about.
‘I’ve made up my mind,’ Nesta said. ‘I am running away from home and I won’t come back till Sunday.’
That was puzzling, but it made a difference. A time limit on running away from home made it not so drastic somehow. A promise is a promise.
‘I think I might understand better if you told me why,’ said Amy. ‘Is it to do with your parents moving back to Boston?’
‘Sort of,’ said Nesta. ‘I can’t tell you everything properly; but I hope I can tell you enough. Early on Thursday morning we are meant to be travelling to London. We’ll stay there till Saturday, and on Saturday night we are supposed to be flying to America. Only I won’t be with them because I am not going.’
Amy gave a sigh of exasperation.
‘What good do you think running away will do? They’ll only wait till you come back and then they’ll still go. So all you’ll be doing is postponing it. There’s no point.’
‘That’s the bit I can’t tell you,’ said Nesta. ‘You’ll just have to take my word for it. If they don’t go this week, they won’t be going at all.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Amy doubtfully. ‘I mean, it does seem an odd way of doing things.’
‘There are reasons, reasons I can’t tell you about. But I am absolutely sure. There is just one danger – the possibility that they might decide to go without me.’
‘Parents don’t do that,’ said Amy. ‘I’m sorry to say it, Nesta, but you’re talking complete rubbish.’
‘That’s what I really hope,’ said Nesta. ‘It is what I am relying on. I disappear; they don’t go; and their chance of going is lost.’
‘They’ll call the police as soon as they know you’re missing,’ said Amy. ‘I wish I could get you to be more practical!’
‘That’s where I need your help and advice. Where can I spend four nights in the middle of winter without being found? After Saturday’s over, I want to be found. I’ll go back of my own accord. It isn’t really proper running away. It’s going into hiding.’
‘Why don’t you just ask me the winning numbers for next week’s Lottery?’ said Amy. ‘I’ve no idea where you can . . .’
Her voice tapered off as the thought came to her.
And at that moment, the bell rang for the end of break.
‘I’ll have to dash,’ said Amy. ‘If I’m late for Miss Edwards’ lesson she’ll tear me to shreds. We’ll talk about it at lunchtime. I do have an idea. I don’t know whether you’ll like it.’
‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ said Nesta. ‘I just knew you would help!’
They separated – Amy to Needlework, Nesta to Art.
At lunchtime, they met in the sandwich room, where those who chose not to eat a school lunch were allowed to take their own food.
‘All right, then,’ said Nesta as soon as they met, ‘what is this idea of yours? I could hardly work last lesson for wondering about it.’
‘It’s simple,’ said Amy. ‘You can stay in our garage. For three nights anyway. Saturday wouldn’t be safe because my brother comes home from college at the weekend and he keeps his bike in there. The garage is never used for anything else in the winter, except storage. We haven’t got a car. Neither my dad nor my mum can drive. That might sound strange to you, but it does happen!’
It had the makings of an attractive idea, but Nesta could see snags. How would she get in and out? Where would she sleep? Go to the loo? Get food and drink? Amy was supposed to be practical. Surely she knew all these basic faults in the plan?
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ said Amy, ‘but your house is not the same as ours. Yours is a twentieth-century semi with the garage at the front attached to the house. Our street is Victorian. The garage is a later addition, completely separate from the house, built in the back yard with double doors leading on to the lane. There’s a side door out to the yard, and an ordinary yard door to go out into the lane. There’s even a toilet in there. Dad calls it the “thunderbox”.’
That sounded better, but some basic questions had not been answered.
‘Your family would twig,’ said Nesta. ‘Even if you could sneak me in somehow, I’d need to see you. You would be my contact with the outside. And your parents are bound to wonder if you start going into the garage at odd times.’
‘And that’s another thing,’ said Amy. ‘I get home an hour before everyone else. Till this year, I had to go next door to Mrs Tully’s; but she moved away and my parents decided that since I was nearly thirteen they would give me a key to let myself in.’
‘It’s workable!’ said Nesta, suddenly excited at really being able to do what she had blindly decided must be done before she had even considered how. ‘All I have to do is leave very early on Saturday morning before anyone’s up. Then there’ll only be one day and one night to go. You’re a genius, Amy Brown! Has anybody ever told you that?’
‘Frequently,’ said Amy. ‘But do calm down. There are still all sorts of complications. Just because it’s “workable” doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy.’
Nesta became thoughtful.
‘And I know what I can do on Saturday,’ she said. ‘I’ll take a train journey. I’ll get the train to Casselton and spend the night there.’
‘Why Casselton?’ said Amy. ‘It’s miles away.’
‘Why not Casselton?’ said Nesta. ‘It’s a big town. Big towns feel safer, so long as you stick to the main streets and don’t go down back alleys. I’ve heard there’s a supermarket there that’s open all night!’
‘You’ll need money,’ said Amy. ‘Train tickets aren’t cheap.’
‘I have money,’ said Nesta. ‘There’s twenty-two pounds in my box, left over from Christmas, and I’ve got over fifty pounds in my savings bank that I can draw out if I need it. I went alone and took some out before Christmas to buy presents and nobody objected.’
After school, Amy walked with Nesta to the bus stop. Her face, always cheerful, was animated with intrigue. Her cheeks were red apples and her dark, frizzy hair looked like live wire.
‘I have been thinking about it,’ she said. ‘I’ll get things ready for you, make you a really safe cubby hole. There’s not much in there except boxes left over from the Christmas presents. I’ll sneak some scatter cushions in from my bedroom and anything else I might think of. You’ll come straight home with me after school tomorrow and I’ll get you settled in before anyone else arrives. It could be fun!’
‘I’ve been thinking, too,’ said Nesta, looking less than happy now. ‘I don’t want to get you into trouble. I shouldn’t have asked you to help. It wasn’t fair.’
‘Of course you should ask me to help. I’m your friend and I want to help. And it is only for a few days, you know. It’s not proper running away. This time next week it will all be over.’
What a wonderful, blissful thought!
The bus was in sight at the corner of the street. Other children were milling forward ready to push their way on to it. Amy was about to turn and leave Nesta to join the throng, but she stopped to say, ‘Besides, I made you a promise. If I want to keep it I have to make sure you’re safe!’