I reach up to my ear and press my Ring-a-Ring earring phone. ‘This parents’ evening is really boring,’ I say.
There’s a crackle but no answer – fantastic, my Ring-a-Ring has lost its signal. I don’t even know if Sam heard me. Now what?!
I go into the toilets. Two minutes and five seconds later, I’m coming out of the cubicle as my mum. I even remember to put the disgusting lip gloss back on. I look in Mum’s handbag to see what I’ve got in the way of helpful gadgets. It turns out Mum doesn’t go anywhere without a few tucked away. I find a sound detector at the bottom of the bag and quickly stick it on the door – I’ll be able to hear what’s going on outside in the corridor.
Footsteps approach the door and then stop.
I break into a cold sweat. I think of my mum waiting for the package we need to take to her. I think of my dad, waiting with Ms Hardy. I think of my trousers, waiting in a future house where I can be a boy again.
My heart’s pretending to be a drum kit and a pulse in my neck is beating against the Voice Over.
The door creaks open an inch and I take a step backwards. Curtis wouldn’t come into the girls’ toilets, would he? He’s a boy! Okay, and I’m a boy too – but I’m dressed as a girl, I’m allowed!
Then Sam sticks her head around the door. ‘Are you okay?’
I let out a breath and grab the sound detector, stuffing it back into Mum’s handbag. ‘I am now you’re here – is Curtis still out there?’
Sam gestures for me to follow her into the corridor. ‘I used one of those specially programmed Scuttle Bugs,’ she says. ‘The one we recorded to sound like a teacher. You know, the one that says she’ll get the nearest kid to help clean up the sick on the floor. Seemed to work – I saw Curtis running back into the hall.’ She grins at me.
‘Good save,’ I tell her. ‘Thanks.’
‘But aren’t you supposed to be back to being Josie now?’ Sam says, checking her watch. ‘The contact should be here in less than ten minutes!’
‘I know – I need to do one more thing and then I’m back,’ I say.
‘Good,’ Sam says. She shakes her head. ‘It’s weird hearing your mum’s voice when it’s not really your mum,’ Sam says.
Tell me about it.
Dad is standing by a wall, tapping his foot as Ms Hardy talks to some other parents nearby. I decide it’s time to take this disguise seriously. It’s time to be my mum.
I stride up to Ms Hardy, without even one wobble on the heels. ‘Sorry to interrupt, Ms Hardy. My husband and I must be going now, but Josie said you wanted to speak to me?’ I frown in my best imitation of my mum’s do-you-mind-but-I’m-really-very-busy look.
‘Oh, yes, yes, of course,’ Ms Hardy says, flustered. She turns to the other parents. ‘I’ll only be a moment.’
I tilt my head and raise my eyebrows at her. ‘Yes?’ I check my watch. Six minutes.
‘I was wondering if you might come in to our class to talk about your work. I understand you’re an interior designer. I think the kids would love to hear about that.’
I bet they’d prefer to hear about Mum’s real job.
But I start nodding. ‘Yes, yes – I’m sure that’s possible. I’ll call you to arrange it in the next few days.’
If all goes well, we’ll all be long gone in a few days.
Ms Hardy smiles. ‘Thank you, thank you very much, Mrs Marcus, that’s very kind.’
‘Not at all,’ I say, making my voice as crisp as toast. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me?’ I turn to Dad and wave my hand at him. ‘I think Josie is meeting us outside in a minute, shall we go?’
Dad grins. ‘Absolutely.’
Once we’ve walked as far as the corridor, Dad turns to us. ‘I’ll see you in twenty minutes,’ Dad says. ‘You’re sure you can do this?’
‘Trust me,’ I tell him.
Dad smiles. ‘I do, Josie, I do.’
He walks away and I duck back into the toilets to whip back to my regular Josie disguise. Then I creep back into the hall where Sam’s waiting for me. I check my watch – one minute to spare. ‘Everything okay with your mum?’
‘I told her I was coming back with you,’ Sam said. She grins. ‘It’s not a lie.’
I look across the room and see our contact walking in through the door. I remember that in one of our training sessions, Dad told us you can tell someone to look in a particular direction without pointing by using the position of hands on the clock. ‘The contact’s at two o’clock,’ I tell her. ‘No, wait, it’s more like one-thirty.’
Sam snorts. ‘I’m not sure you’ve got the hang of the clock idea.’
I ignore her. ‘What about Curtis? Do you see him?’
‘Six o’clock,’ she whispers. ‘That means behind you,’ she adds.
‘All right, all right,’ I say.
Sam hands me the crumpled piece of paper and while people mill around I walk up to the caretaker who’s pushing a litter cart, ready with my code phrase. ‘Can I put this in with the rubbish?’
The caretaker shrugs as if he scarcely notices me. ‘Be my guest.’
But as I reach out to put the paper into the bin on wheels he’s pushing, he nudges a tiny package that’s resting on the lid forward with his hand. I palm it and then slip it into my skirt pocket. ‘Thanks,’ I say, as I turn away.
‘No bother,’ he replies.
Sam’s already by the door. And Curtis is across the room, watching. Exactly where we want him.
Outside, Sam and I look at each other. It’s going to take all our training to do this right. Sam pulls out the extra rucksack she’s hidden inside her own backpack and hands it to me. We get out the ScootSkates and hop on.
‘Ready?’
Sam nods. ‘Ready.’
We zoom forward along the pavement near the school, heading towards the estate. I look behind us and, sure enough, Curtis is after us – and he’s wearing rollerblades. I press the Ring-a-Ring in my ear. ‘Can you hear me?’
‘Loud and clear,’ Sam’s voice says.
‘Good – it’s working again. Time for the banana.’
‘Go for it!’
I pull out the Banana Slip from my bag, peel it and chuck it on the ground behind me. Then I press down with my right toe to make the skateboard zoom on.
When I look back, I’m just in time to see Curtis spinning in circles on the Banana Slip oil slick. He’s pretty good on the rollerblades so he doesn’t fall – but it’s going to be a few minutes before he gets back on track.
We skate round into the large estate up ahead, weaving through the concrete pathways. When we get to the central green we stop and hop off, digging into our rucksacks and pulling out the Spy Hide. We shake out the material until it snaps into position, take a shot on the camera, then swivel the hide round and duck behind it.
A minute later, there’s the sound of running feet – Curtis must have had to give up on the rollerblades. I’ve put in one of my Cats’ Eye contacts and press my eye to the material of the Spy Hide, being careful not to shake it. I see Curtis running up, then slowing to a halt as he looks around and sees us nowhere. He waits and then stamps his feet on the ground.
I’ve never seen anyone except toddlers stamp in a rage before. I have to clasp my hand over my mouth to stop the laugh from bubbling out.
Curtis the Toddler waits for another minute or two and then slowly moves off, checking over his shoulder every few seconds. We give it another five minutes after that and then move.
I switch on the Sniffer Dog app and see the two dots we need to keep an eye on – one is Curtis, moving further and further away, back towards school. The other is my mum.
* * *
The skateboards take us to her in no time. I flip the board up and fold it, shoving it deep into my rucksack. Then I take out the tiny package our caretaker contact gave me.
‘Josie! Sam!’ Mum’s face breaks out into the widest grin I’ve seen on her face in a long time. ‘You made it!’
‘Of course,’ I tell her. ‘We’re professionals.’
Mum reaches forward and pulls me into a hug. ‘Well done,’ she whispers. ‘I’m proud of you.’
My face goes hot. Mum’s not exactly big on saying things like that. It’s a bit of a shock. A nice shock, but a shock.
‘Now get out of here,’ Mum says. ‘I’ve got a mission to do.’
Now that’s my mum talking.