The next morning, I’m cursing Curtis under my breath big time. If it wasn’t for him showing up and sticking around reading that Dr Who magazine, we’d have made this collection safely yesterday and I’d still be in bed dreaming of scoring the winning goal in the World Cup final. Instead, Dad yanks me out of bed at FIVE A.M. and sits me in front of a bowl of porridge and toast.
As if anyone’s stomach wakes up that early!
Dad makes me eat it anyway, claiming that rumbling stomachs can be dangerous.
Yeah, if you’re trying to creep up and surprise someone, maybe. But we’re just trying to get to the newsagents while everyone else is still in bed.
Dad drops us two streets away from the shop. He tells us where he’ll pick us up and warns us to be careful before he drives away. ‘Remember, this mission is incredibly important – your mum must be able to deliver that package today if the double agent is going to believe her cover as a gadget specialist. We have to have that package.’
It turns out nerves are pretty good at waking you up. As we walk towards the shop, my stomach does a very good impression of a pot of boiling spaghetti.
‘Looks clear so far,’ whispers Sam.
As she speaks, I notice a movement in the shadows over by the bins. ‘I’m not so sure,’ I whisper back. ‘Maybe set a Scuttle Bug Level 1?’
She sees where I’m gesturing and nods, slipping her hand into her rucksack and pulling out one of the bugs Mum gave us. I cough to cover the sound of Sam throwing it to the ground. A second later, the murmur of two men having a loud conversation rings out from round the side of the shop.
‘It’s a great film, you must watch it,’ says the Scuttle Bug. ‘There’s a scene where a boat turns into a helicopter.’
‘Amazing!’ the other Scuttle Bug voice says.
The shadow by the bins seems to melt away as the Scuttle Bug continues to make conversation about films and Sam and I head towards the door. Pink Hair is already waiting for us inside.
‘Morning!’ Pink Hair says. ‘You girls are up nice and early!’
‘My mum and dad didn’t get their magazines, Patio Paradise and Celebrity Chatter,’ I tell her.
Pink Hair glances round and then smiles at me. ‘Righty-ho. I’ll just get them for you. But hang on a sec, I think I’ve also got their bill from last month.’
Sam shoots me a look. This wasn’t part of the plan. It must be a special message – I hope it doesn’t mean trouble for Mum – or us. I take a breath, trying to stay calm. ‘Okay.’
We follow Pink Hair and she slips behind the counter and ducks down under it, rising a second later to hand us a parcel wrapped in brown paper and an envelope. ‘You make sure that bill gets to your mum and dad now, okay? Don’t want them in trouble because you forgot to deliver it, do you?’ She looks into my eyes and I nod.
‘Yeah, we will, of course,’ I tell her, backing away. I stuff the envelope in my bag and Sam and I race for the meeting place with Dad.
In the safety of the car, I hand over Pink Hair’s message. Dad rips the envelope open. ‘Can I borrow your infra-red reader?’
I pull it out and hand it to him. Dad quickly scans the message with the reader, and frowns. ‘Pink Hair has information that suggests that there might be another mole in the area trying to uncover a boy posing as a girl.’
Fantastic. A five a.m. start, followed by school, followed by foot torture and now a possible mole trying to uncover my cover. Could this day get any worse?
Football practice after school is one of the few things that takes my mind off my worries, though every time I pass the ball to Sam, I can’t help wondering if playing football with anyone else will ever be this much fun. She’s really good, but she doesn’t make a big deal of it and she’s always quick to shout something encouraging to other people on the team. And even though she’s blinding at scoring goals, she doesn’t hog the ball all the time but keeps passing it.
We’re having a great game until, at half time, Curtis appears.
The boy is a fly. He’s constantly buzzing up around you when you don’t want him to. Which is always.
‘Hi, Josie, hi, Sam,’ he says. ‘I thought I’d see how good the girls’ team is.’ His lip lifts up into a sneer showing off his horrible little teeth. They look like rows of mini yellow Lego bricks.
Stay calm, I tell myself. Be careful. ‘Well, you won’t see much in half time. We’re on our way to the toilets, aren’t we, Sam?’
‘That’s right,’ Sam says, her voice cool. ‘But stick around for the second half. If you’re very good we might even agree to give you a game some time.’ She gives him her best little-innocent-girly-girl smile.
Curtis backs off. ‘I don’t think so,’ he says.
Sam shrugs. ‘Suit yourself. I don’t blame you. Not everyone is up to playing us.’
We walk on, leaving Curtis behind.
‘Nice one,’ I tell Sam, grinning at her.
‘So what’s up?’ Sam asks after we’ve pushed our way into the girls’ loos and checked all the cubicles.
‘Remember what my dad said this morning about there being a mole trying to uncover my Josie disguise?’
‘I think it could be Curtis,’ I tell her. ‘He keeps trying to wind up all the girls in our class and I think he’s doing it on purpose.’
Sam walks over to stick her head outside the door to make sure there’s no one listening and then pulls back in. ‘Yeah. He acts normally with the other boys, but it’s like he’s trying to make every girl in the class lose their temper.’
‘I thought at first that maybe he just really hates girls,’ I say, thinking of my old friend Eddie who didn’t believe it was possible for boys to be friends with girls. It wasn’t until I got to know Sam that I realised how wrong he was. ‘But now that we know that there might be a mole around – and the way Curtis popped up in the shop …’
Sam nods. ‘I think you’re right. He could be the mole. He’s new at school, and winding someone up is a good way to try and make someone drop their cover.’
‘Exactly. People say and do things without thinking when they’re angry.’
‘Good thing you’ve kept your temper with him so far, then,’ Sam says, grinning.
‘Yeah,’ I say, grinning back at her. ‘But we’d better keep an eye on him from now on.’
‘And not get wound up by him,’ Sam says.
‘Right,’ I tell her.
Though that might be easier said than done.
‘I guess we’d better get back,’ Sam says. She pauses with her hand on the door. ‘I’m going to miss working on missions with you, you know.’
I nod. Okay, so I’m going to miss having to come into the girls’ loos about as much as you’d miss someone hitting you over and over on the head with a large hammer, but there’s no getting round it, I am going to miss working with Sam.
Curtis is still on the sidelines when we get back but the whistle for the second half goes before he can say anything more to us. I try to avoid catching his eye as I run around the pitch but a couple of times I still catch him laughing when our side misses a shot at goal. Even knowing how important it is to keep my temper, it takes a lot of effort to stop myself from running over to push him face down into the mud.
After the match, Curtis walks up to us as we’re gathering our stuff together.
‘That was very entertaining,’ he says. ‘It reminded me of being at the circus.’
I clamp my mouth shut to stop myself from saying anything.
‘Really?’ Sam says. ‘With you as one of the clowns?’
Curtis scowls and walks away, jamming his hands into his pockets with annoyance.
‘Thanks,’ I tell Sam. ‘You stopped me from saying something that might have got me into trouble.’
Sam grins. ‘Looking out for each other is what friends are for – right?’
‘Right.’
And now I have an idea.