From: nicholas.huntley@bounce-mail.co.uk
To: anna_huntley@zingmail.co.uk
Subject: YOU ARE IN BIG TROUBLE
Anastasia Huntley, I am very disappointed in you.
What were you thinking? Not only did you get yourself in trouble, but I can see from the photos littered across every newspaper and website on the planet that you led all your friends into this mess too!
I don’t know what you were doing away from the hotel; your teacher has spoken to me—yes, I’ve spoken to Mrs. Ginnwell, who of course feels responsible for the whole thing, even though I have assured her that I do not blame her in the slightest because no doubt you concocted some plan to mislead them—and she has informed me that you will all be punished.
I told her that I was happy if she wanted to cut your stay short and put you on a plane back to England but she told me that wouldn’t be necessary.
Thrown out of a stadium by security? Are you aware of the scrutinizing press attention we have got from this? Honestly, Anna, you’re usually so sensible!
Well, some of the time.
Look, the main reason I am so angry with you is that something might have happened to you without an adult around to look after you in a strange city.
You have very much broken my trust, Anna. That is why I am so angry.
We can talk about this properly when you get home, but for now STAY OUT OF TROUBLE.
That’s a direct order.
Dad xx
To: anna_huntley@zingmail.co.uk
Subject: WELL DONE!
Darling Anna,
We are SO PROUD of you! I have just been in stitches laughing about all your scuffles with those large (and quite handsome) Italian security men!
If only I had spoken to you before the event: We discovered Marianne has been staying with some friends who live in the middle of nowhere and she’s had no phone signal. Apparently she left a note on the fridge, but I can’t think WHY she would think I would look there.
She knows I usually eat out.
Anyway, my heart simply swelled when I heard the news that you had snuck away and broken into the arena where Tom was playing! I knew straightaway you had gone there to tell Tom off and I think it’s simply marvelous! And then you got thrown out! It’s just like one of my old movies!
Ignore your father being grumpy—he has had a sense-of-humor failure. By the time you come home he’ll be laughing along with the rest of us. And, you know, secretly he is impressed that his feisty little daughter went to all that trouble on Marianne’s behalf.
Proud to officially call you my daughter in a few weeks.
All my love,
Helena xxx
From: rebecca.blythe@bounce-mail.co.uk
To: anna_huntley@zingmail.co.uk
Subject: Are you okay?
Darling Anna,
I’ve read all about it and I’ve spoken to your father and I just wanted to check in and make sure you’re okay?
I don’t condone you sneaking off like that, Anna, but I have to say I did chuckle when I saw those pictures of you being thrown out of the stadium. Nick’s eyebrows really flew off his head! Just like that time he found out I had used his credit card to save a darling little donkey I saw starving away on one of those TV commercials.
Anyway, after all this malarkey in Rome, I’m looking forward to having you home. Dog is very much missing you, and your father tells me he’s been acting in the most peculiar manner.
He keeps howling at the moon, which is annoying the neighbors. (Dog, not your father.) You know Mrs. Trott who lives next door to you? The one with the very mean face who got in your dad’s trash can? She’s been terrifying your father because of it. He keeps hiding behind curtains when she walks past the house. She must have given him quite the lecture.
And, perhaps more strangely, Dog is currently insisting on sliding down the stairs on his back.
He hasn’t walked down them once the past few days, just lies down, rolls over, and propels himself down using his back legs to push off.
I don’t know if dogs can get carpet burn but Dog must have very thick hair on his back.
Anyway, darling, you were very naughty to get into so much trouble and you mustn’t do anything like that ever again. But I’m also proud of you for being so determined.
You get that from me, you know.
Love, Mom xxx
“Mrs. Ginnwell, please,” I begged, “it really wasn’t their fault. It was mine.”
“That’s not true—we volunteered,” James jumped in. “We are as much to blame as Anna is. In fact, it was my idea in the first place.”
“James!” I protested through gritted teeth, but he stood firm, looking straight at Mrs. Ginnwell and being as stubborn as she was.
Mrs. Ginnwell glanced at Mr. Kenton. We had been summoned to the lounge area where the four teachers were sitting waiting as the five of us were marched in. I had been adamant that I was going to take the fall for this one.
“James is right,” Jess piped up, ignoring my glares. “We all played our part. If anything, Anna was trying to persuade us not to join in.”
Mrs. Ginnwell nodded. “I have to say,” she began, “I appreciate your honesty. What you did could have been extremely dangerous. You’re in a strange city and none of us knew where you were. What if something had happened to you all? Did you think about that?”
“Of course,” James replied firmly while I was still processing the question. “That’s why we went as a team. We weren’t going to let one go on their own. Safety in numbers.”
“And it was just the five of you?” Mr. Crowne asked, looking more tired than concerned.
“Yes,” I replied.
“We ask because I believe around the time that you snuck out of the hotel an incident occurred involving Miss Parker, Mr. Dakers, and a no-longer-in-one-piece vase.” Mr. Kenton ran his eyes slowly along the row. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”
“No, why? What happened?” Stephanie asked innocently.
“Just a coincidence, then?” Mr. Kenton said.
“Must have been.” Danny shrugged.
Mr. Kenton looked suspicious, but then his shoulders relaxed. “Well, anyway, just the five of you, then.”
He looked at Mrs. Ginnwell, who inhaled slowly, deciding our fate. She let out a long, heavy sigh. “I’m afraid as punishment I can’t allow any of you to attend the end-of-trip party—”
“Mrs. Ginnwell,” I interrupted, “if anyone has to be punished, it really should just be—”
“Anna,” Stephanie said softly, shaking her head.
I pursed my lips.
“As I was saying,” continued Mrs. Ginnwell, “you will not be able to attend the end-of-trip party, and instead you will spend tomorrow night writing an essay about Rome’s beautiful landmarks, their background, architectural highlights, and what you have learned from them.”
Jess groaned. Danny raised his hand.
“Yes, Danny?”
“Do we just discuss the ones we’ve seen, or should we add in other landmarks that are culturally significant, but which we haven’t been able to fit into our itinerary?”
Jess hit him over the head while Miss Lawler gave a sigh of admiration.
“Whatever you wish, Daniel.” Mrs. Ginnwell nodded. “Unless anyone has anything to add, you may all go to your rooms. Except you, Miss Huntley. Stay a moment.”
The others filed out slowly, Jess mouthing, “We’ll see you in a minute.”
“I just wanted to check you were all right, Anna,” Mrs. Ginnwell explained when the others had left. Having been concentrating on the patterns on the floor, too terrified to look at her, I raised my eyes.
“You wanted to check I was all right?”
“Yes.” She gestured for me to sit down. “We were all worried.”
I looked from her to Mr. Kenton, Miss Lawler, and across to Mr. Crowne, all of them watching me intently. “Uh. I’m fine.”
“It can’t be easy,” Mr. Kenton began, “to be in such a position at your age. What you did was wrong, Anna—you should never sneak away again. But having to face that amount of paparazzi without an adult or anyone to guide you through it? It must have been terrifying on your own.”
“I did have someone to guide me through it,” I replied. “Four someones, in fact. I wasn’t on my own.”
“Right.” Miss Lawler nodded. “You should know that we’ve spoken to the hotel and they are fully aware of the situation. They won’t be letting any journalists on the premises.”
“Thank you.”
I waited in silence until Mrs. Ginnwell gestured that I could leave, and then, mumbling apologies again for everything, I scuffled out and hurried up to my room where Sophie was lounging on her bed wearing a bright green face mask.
“I take it, it didn’t go well,” she drawled, not even bothering to look up and flicking a page of a magazine as I collapsed onto my bed, suddenly exhausted.
I closed my eyes, burying my head further into the pillow.
“Connor called earlier by the way,” she announced when I didn’t say anything.
“Really?” I lifted my head and a wave of nauseating guilt washed over me. Connor had strictly told me not to do anything rash or get into trouble and I had managed to accomplish both. He must be so worried.
“He left a message.” She licked her finger and turned another page of the magazine. “He said to tell you that the comic-book agent he’s hoping to sign with wants a meeting and so he doesn’t think he’ll be able to make it to the airport when we land.”
“Oh.” I paused, my heart sinking. “Did he say anything else?”
“No, although I can’t say I appreciated his tone when I gave him my opinion on comic books.”
“Did he want me to call him back?”
“He didn’t say.”
I nodded. “Right. Thanks for passing on the message.”
“Don’t expect it to happen again—I’m not some kind of secretary,” she huffed, putting down the magazine and sauntering into the bathroom to fill the tub with water.
“By the way, Sophie,” I said, watching her dab at her face with a washcloth. “Thanks for helping out tonight.”
“Whatever, it’s not a big deal.” She shrugged, continuing to wipe away the green mush. “I didn’t do it to help you out—I just want an invite to the wedding reception.”
“Either way, thanks.”
She didn’t respond. I pulled on my pajamas and slipped under the duvet, put it over my head, and wished it would just swallow me up.