No one’s looking at the TV now. All eyes are locked on me. I hear Mum’s sharp intake of breath, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
King leaps up from the sofa and I’m frighteningly aware once more of just how big he is. ‘What are you talking about, Anni?’
‘Leave her alone!’ Mum flings her arms around me. Her dark eyes are blazing fire as she stares King down. ‘Don’t bully her! She’s only a child—’
Strangely, King doesn’t seem annoyed by this. He stays where he is and simply glances helplessly at Ace.
‘You’re asking us if we’re going to assassinate the Prime Minister, Anni?’ Ace says. Her voice is calm, with no trace of tension. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’
There is silence for a long moment.
‘I thought I saw a gun,’ I confess. ‘When you were in the attic.’
‘You were wrong,’ Ace replies. ‘There’s no gun. We’re not going to hurt anyone.’
I don’t know whether to believe her. I want to, but – oh, I’m just not sure.
‘We’re just planning something that will make people sit up and take notice,’ Ace goes on. ‘That’s all.’
But I can’t leave it. I’m still worried. Or maybe I’m just dying of curiosity. ‘So what are you going to do?’ I push for answers.
‘That’s enough,’ Ace tells me. ‘Like I told you before, it’s best you and your mum don’t know.’
‘But—’
‘We’re not telling you, Anni,’ Ace repeats, still calm but with just a hint of impatience. ‘So leave it.’
She turns back to the TV, leaving me steaming mad with rage and frustration. I was almost beginning to – not relax with them, exactly, but I was feeling a little more safe. But asking me to sit here and take their word for it that they aren’t going to hurt anyone?
No!
Every bit of me cries out against simply accepting what they say as the whole truth. Ace may not be lying about their mission, but the police – and the Prime Minister – might see it very differently. The four of them have already committed a crime by breaking into our house. And if . . . and if something goes wrong with their mission and the police storm our house, will Mum and I be caught in the crossfire?
I can’t take such an enormous risk, knowing that the price Mum and I would pay for doing nothing could be fatal. And that means we still need to get the hell out of here, whatever Ace says, whatever I believe.
I think about the notes I sent spinning out of the bathroom window into the darkness, and at last I acknowledge that no one is going to find one, read it and take it seriously. Those three simple steps now seem wildly unlikely. I imagine the notes floating uselessly across the garden, getting wedged in the long grass, never even making it to the road beyond.
It’s time for Plan B.
I wish there was a Plan B.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Ace says suddenly to King. ‘You know how we’re so far behind with the work in the attic? Maybe we only need one of us on guard down here.’
I feel Mum’s fingers curl around my hand and squeeze it tight.
‘Sounds like a plan.’ King finishes off a Mars bar and leaves the wrapping on the table. He still hasn’t put his gloves back on. I think, I need to get hold of that wrapper. Fingerprints. DNA. ‘Let’s see what the others think. They should be down in a minute to switch over.’
Sure enough, about ten minutes later we hear footsteps on the stairs. But it’s only one person coming down. Jack comes into the room, beckons to the others, and then retreats into the corridor to whisper with them. I wonder if their ‘mission’ has hit a snag or a glitch.
‘Anni.’ Ace comes back to the open doorway. ‘We need your help.’
I’m stunned into silence. Unusual for me, I know.
‘What for?’ Mum quizzes Ace fiercely.
‘We need to open a window upstairs on the next floor,’ Ace replies. ‘It’s locked and we can’t find the key.’
Mum clutches my arm. ‘I don’t want Anni going anywhere without me!’
‘I’ll be fine, Mum,’ I reassure her, wanting to go, wanting to see if I can find any clues to what they’re up to. ‘I’ll only be a minute.’
Jack stays behind with Mum while Ace and King escort me from the room. I don’t understand the look Jack flashes at me as I go past him. Concerned. Anxious. What is his problem?
I walk upstairs to the first floor, Ace on one side of me, King on the other. I’m not expecting a trap. But that’s exactly what it is.
Queenie is waiting for us at the bottom of the attic stairs. At her feet is an open suitcase, my old blue suitcase that I keep in the attic, far away from prying eyes.
I realize, as shame and dread and rage flood through me, that they have uncovered my secret life.