‘Call me what you like, I don’t care,’ laughed Anne. ‘And I’m not sorry I did it either.’
‘You will be,’ Lydia said quietly.
‘Oh yeah? Everyone reckons you’re a thief and you can’t prove any different,’ Anne scorned.
‘Yes, I can.’
‘Go on then. What’re you going to make me do? Confess? You make me sick. You really are all talk and no action,’ said Anne.
‘I feel sorry for you, Anne.’ Lydia shook her head sadly. ‘We could’ve been really good friends.’
‘I don’t think so. I never liked you and now neither does anyone else. And serve you right. Now let me out of this room before I knock you down.’
Lydia stared at Anne, wondering that anyone could be so spiteful, so vicious. Anne stepped around Lydia, glowering with contempt. Lydia didn’t turn back. She flinched as Anne slammed the door behind her. Less than a minute later the door opened again. In came Frankie, panting.
Lydia and Frankie watched each other silently.
‘Where were you then?’ Lydia asked.
‘I got held up. Mrs Irving collared me in the corridor.’
‘Anne’s gone.’
‘She confessed?’
‘She didn’t so much confess as boast about it,’ Lydia said with disgust.
‘So did it work?’
Lydia nodded. ‘I think so. I hope so.’
‘You stayed in the corner by the door?’
Lydia nodded. ‘Yeah, just as we rehearsed.’
Silence.
‘She really hates me, doesn’t she,’ Lydia sighed.
‘Well, she’s going to get what she deserves – and not a moment too soon.’ Frankie’s eyes narrowed with delight.
Lydia didn’t reply. Now came the hardest bit – trusting Frankie to do her part . . .
‘Frankie!’ Mr Fine wailed.
Anne whispered something to Frankie. Frankie didn’t answer. She stood up and made her way down to the front of the class. Lydia’s heart was in her mouth as she watched. Frankie had doctored the DVD player so that it wouldn’t start properly when Mr Fine pressed the PLAY button. Hence the desperate wail! Without warning, the door opened and in walked Mr Simmers, the headmaster.
‘Ah, Mr Fine, you wanted to see me?’ Mr Simmers strode up to Mr Fine, his eyebrows raised in query.
Mr Fine frowned. ‘I did?’
Now it was Mr Simmers’ turn to frown. ‘Lydia told me that you wanted to see me at the start of your English lesson,’ he explained.
‘She did?’
Both teachers turned to Lydia, as did everyone else in the class. Lydia stood up slowly. She glanced at Frankie who was still fiddling with the DVD player.
Hurry up, Frankie! Hurry up . . .
‘What’s going on, Lydia?’ The headmaster’s frown deepened. Frost crept into his voice. ‘Am I correct in thinking that you’ve got me here under false pretences?’
‘I had to, sir,’ Lydia said. ‘I . . . I . . .’
The room lapsed into a deafening silence. Frankie turned around and nodded vigorously to Lydia.
Mr Simmers opened his mouth to speak.
‘I’ve got something to show you, sir,’ Lydia interrupted the headmaster quickly.
Frankie pressed the PLAY button on the DVD player. The TV screen instantly flickered into life. Anne was angrily pulling her arm out of Lydia’s grasp. She said something that was lost under Anne’s gasp in the classroom. Frankie turned up the volume.
‘I know how you put the cup in my locker,’ Lydia was saying.
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah! You unscrewed the backplate of my locker and put the sports cup in that way.’
The whole conversation, every action, every word, was displayed in glorious technicolour. Each word rang out crystal clear. Anne and Lydia were beautifully framed, slap bang in the middle of the screen. Frankie turned around to Lydia and grinned. No one else in the class noticed. They only had eyes for the drama unfolding before them on the TV screen. And when Anne confessed to planting the cup in Lydia’s locker and told why she did it, even Mr Simmers gave a sharp intake of breath.
‘It’s a lie. I didn’t say that. I didn’t . . .’ Anne sprang to her feet.
The conversation between Anne and Lydia finished. Frankie pressed the STOP button.
‘Mr Simmers, I can play it again if you like. Lydia and I set up my dad’s camcorder this lunchtime and recorded Anne bragging about what she did. Then I ran home and transferred it on to a DVD so you could have your very own copy.’
‘I didn’t do it . . .’ Anne denied weakly.
‘I didn’t take the cup, Mr Simmers. Anne did. I just never had any proof until now,’ Lydia explained quietly.
‘Give me that disc,’ Mr Simmers said grimly.
Frankie pressed the EJECT button and handed the DVD over to the headmaster.
‘Anne, come with me. And you as well, Lydia. And you, Frankie,’ Mr Simmers continued. ‘You’ve all got a lot of explaining to do.’
‘I told you Lyddy didn’t do it,’ said Danny proudly. ‘I hope that other girl gets suspended!’
‘They won’t do that. Frankie told me that Anne’s mum is one of the school’s governors!’ said Lydia.
‘Tell me what happened again!’ Danny said eagerly.
‘But I’ve already told you four times,’ Lydia protested.
‘Tell me again,’ Danny pleaded.
‘Mr Simmers played the DVD in his office and Anne tried to deny it. She said that Frankie and me had doctored the DVD. Then she said that she was just playing up to me and, when that didn’t work, she even tried to say that it was Frankie pretending to be her on the DVD!’
Danny sat back and laughed like a drain at that, even though he’d heard it before.
‘And then when that didn’t work, she started crying to get Mr Simmers’ sympathy. She didn’t have much luck with that either!’ Lydia said with satisfaction. ‘Mr Simmers sent me and Frankie back to our class and, as we were leaving, he was phoning Anne’s parents.’
‘She should get expelled, not suspended,’ Danny said vehemently.
‘You said it!’ Mum and Dad spoke in unison and nodded in vigorous agreement, their heads moving at exactly the same time.
They turned to each other and burst out laughing. The Henson household was back to normal. Ever since Mum and Dad had received the news that the real thief had been found, it was as if all the windows in the house had been thrown wide open, letting in daylight and fresh air after weeks of darkness. Mum and Dad were actually laughing again.
‘It’s funny but . . . I feel a bit sorry for Anne,’ Lydia sighed.
Danny’s jaw dropped open. ‘You must be joking!’ he exclaimed.
‘I know what it’s like to have everyone hating you and not talking to you. I wouldn’t want her to go through the same thing,’ said Lydia.
Danny shook his head, amazed. Mum and Dad looked at each other.
‘Besides, I wouldn’t want Hensonville to become . . . Turnerville!’ Lydia smiled.
‘Lydia, what on earth are you talking about?’ Mum frowned.
‘It doesn’t matter, Mum. I’m just wittering to myself. Maybe I’ll try and be friends with Anne again,’ Lydia mused. ‘And then again, maybe I won’t! I’ll have to see.’
‘I’m just glad the whole thing is sorted out now,’ sighed Dad.
‘Dad . . .’
The phone rang, interrupting Lydia.
‘I’ll be right back,’ said Mum.
‘What were you going to say, Lydia?’ Dad asked.
Lydia chewed on her bottom lip. She should be happy but she wasn’t. The sports cup theft at school was all cleared up but that still left the accident on the motorway . . . Lydia’s heart leapt at the thought of it. Should she risk telling Mum and Dad what she knew about the future? It sounded so bizarre, so far-fetched that they’d never believe her. Even now Lydia wondered if she’d been knocked out and just dreamt the whole thing or had it really happene
d? Yes, there was the scar on her arm, but what if that really had happened when she was knocked unconscious? So maybe she was worrying about nothing. But even so . . .
‘Who was that?’ Dad asked when Mum came back into the room.
‘That was Mr Weldon, Frankie’s dad,’ said Mum. ‘He’s invited all of us to spend Boxing Day with his family.’
‘That’s nice of him,’ Dad said drily.
‘Are we going to go?’ asked Mum.
‘Oh please! Please, can we?’ Lydia pleaded.
‘What about your Aunt Vanessa?’ Dad frowned.
‘Couldn’t we see her some other time?’ Lydia asked.
She held her breath as she waited for Dad’s answer.
‘I suppose we could always visit my sister for the New Year,’ said Mum. ‘It would be nice to get to know some of the people in this town a bit better – if we’re going to stay here, that is.’
Mum and Dad looked at each other.
‘Oh, I think we’ll settle down here,’ said Dad at last.
Mum grinned. ‘Good!’
‘That’s not good – that’s great!’ Lydia sprung out of her chair and whirled around. ‘We’re not going to Aunt Vanessa’s before my birthday. We’re not going! We’re not going!’
‘And just what’s wrong with my sister?’ Mum frowned.
‘Nothing!’ Lydia grinned. ‘I . . . I just didn’t want to see her before my birthday, that’s all.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I love Tarwich. I’m going to live here for ever and ever. Come here, Danny, and I’ll give you a big kiss!’ Lydia beamed.
‘You must be drunk!’ Danny retorted.
‘Danny, that’s a charming thing to say to your sister.’ Mum raised an eyebrow.
‘Well, Lydia’s gone all dripping wet ever since she got out of the hospital,’ Danny grumbled. ‘I wish she’d stop being nice to me. I’m not used to it!’
‘Danny, as I’ve already told you – you’re the best brother in the world.’
‘You’ve never told me that,’ Danny denied.
‘Oh yes, I did. I told you when you were forty-seven years old,’ smiled Lydia.
‘Huh?’
‘And what’s more, I meant it!’ said Lydia.
And she did!
About the Author
MALORIE BLACKMAN is acknowledged as one of today’s most imaginative and convincing writers for young readers. Noughts & Crosses has won several prizes, including the Children’s Book Award. Malorie is also the only author to have won the Young Telegraph/Gimme 5 Award twice with Hacker and Thief! Her work has appeared on screen, with Pig-Heart Boy, which was shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal, being adapted into a BAFTA-award-winning TV serial. Malorie has also written a number of titles for younger readers.
In 2005, Malorie was honoured with the Eleanor Farjeon Award in recognition of her distinguished contribution to the world of children’s books.
In 2008, she received an OBE for her services to children’s literature.
www.malorieblackman.co.uk
Malorie Blackman, Thief!
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