14: Doubts

I sat in a daze as Gracie drove down twisting tracks. All I could think of was my parents and Kris. I felt I was choking, I missed them so much.

Dusk was already closing in when we finally stopped. We were in the corner of a field, woodland on one side, a stream on the other. Gracie climbed down from the land rover and stretched, arms above her head, reaching towards a sky that seethed dark and threatened rain.

I didn’t move. My head was spinning. Everything was happening so fast. I had been so certain, but now I wasn’t feeling sure of myself.

Gracie looked round at me, and I could see the concern in her eyes. She came over to my side and opened the door.

“Are you all right?”

“I don’t know.” I shivered at the blast of chill air.

“What’s wrong?”

I shook my head and ran my hands over the package Lucy had left for us. “What are we doing, Gracie?” I whispered.

“What do you mean?”

I picked at the tape with my fingernail. “I was so sure that we’d find the answers in Cambridge.”

“We found the thesis.”

“But it hasn’t led us to Robert. He could be anywhere and we still don’t know why MEXA took him.” A couple of raindrops landed on the windscreen. Just like tears. I blinked, trying to keep my own eyes from brimming over.

“Everything in the thesis points towards Malta,” said Gracie, her voice strangely eager. “That’s where we should go next.”

“I can’t go to Malta,” I said, looking up and meeting her eye. “It’s where my parents died.”

I felt myself choking up as I said those words. Gracie’s eyes opened wide. I took a deep breath.

“Gracie, what are we even going to do if we go there?”

“Look for your uncle?” she suggested.

“But what if he isn’t in Malta? I should have gone straight to the police! What if he’s already dead?” My voice shook. I wasn’t yet ready to face that possibility.

Gracie took hold of my hand. “Don’t think that way. We’ll find him.”

A large tear trickled down my cheek. More rain hit the windscreen.

“But how are we going to get there? Who’s going to pay for our flights?”

Gracie rubbed her hand up and down my arm.

“Open the package. Let’s see what Lucy has left us.”

I picked at the packing tape. Gracie took it off me and slit it open with her hunting knife. Inside were two ID cards and a wad of cash. She thumbed through the money and handed it to me. Then she inspected the cards.

“Awful photographs,” she said with a smile, handing me mine. “Looks like they’re stills taken by the CCTV cameras above the guard’s office in the MI5 building.”

“I’m ‘Amanda Jones’,” I said with a half smile. Gracie was right. It really was an appalling picture.

Gracie pulled a face. “‘Fionnula Snodgrass’. Oh, for goodness’ sake. Couldn’t she come up with anything better! ‘Amanda Jones’ is okay!”

I giggled. Lucy always did have a weird sense of humour.

“She’s given us a decent amount of credit though,” said Gracie.

I checked the LED readout on the card. “I guess it’s enough to keep us going for a couple of weeks while she sorts stuff out.”

“Or enough to pay for our flights to Malta,” said Gracie.

“And then what?” I asked. “Gracie, I don’t have a plan or anything. What are we going to do when we get to Malta? We’ll be using all this money on the flights alone.” I waved my new ID card with one hand and pointed at the cash on the seat beside me with the other. “We won’t even have money for a hotel.”

Gracie smiled, her eyes narrow and glinting. “Don’t worry about that. One of my cousins runs a small hotel in Malta. He’ll let us stay, and he won’t ask any questions. I can probably even persuade him to stand us some cash.”

“But won’t that be dangerous? What if MEXA trace us?”

“Trust me on this,” said Gracie. “They won’t.” There was an odd insistence in her voice. Of course I trusted her. She’d stuck by me when I had no one else. She was older than me. She was bound to know what she was doing.

I tucked the ID card away in my pocket, put the cash in the glove compartment and climbed down to join her on the soft grass. It was now almost dark and an owl let out its soft call from among the trees. The downpour that threatened had never materialised, but the ground was spongy and damp.

“Maybe we should do what Lucy told us to do and find somewhere to hide. Or maybe we should try to find the Professor who wrote the thesis?” I said.

“Did you see the date on that thing?” Gracie tipped her head to one side as the owl called again. “He’s probably dead by now. No. I think our best bet is to find this monastery on Malta and speak to this abbot.”

The thought of my parents crowded in on me, choking me. Was this really a coincidence? I didn’t answer.

“Anyway,” said Gracie. “Remember I told you how I wanted to go backpacking but my Dad wouldn’t let me?”

“Did you?”

“Yes. Well, now is my chance. I really want to see Malta. I want to go somewhere on my own where I want to go, not where my Dad drags me because that’s where his work takes him. And I want to help you find your uncle.”

I smiled at her, although I knew that my smile was lost in the dark.

“Thank you, Gracie.”

Gracie gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“So, grab a torch and help me find some firewood that isn’t soaked,” she said.