The Medusa Project: The Set-Up

  The next morning I decided Jack was right. It was Sunday, a day Ketty always went for a long run. I’d give it until the afternoon, then try and talk to her again.

  Fergus hauled me up to the flat first thing and laid into me, big time. He was furious that I was using my telekinetic abilities when I’d promised I wouldn’t . . . that I’d lied to him . . . that I’d cheated in the casino last night . . . that I’d even been in a bar and casino in the first place . . . that I’d dragged Ed and Ketty into danger . . . and that I’d let Jack Linden into my life.

  ‘Why didn’t you come to me?’ he kept saying. ‘Why didn’t you tell me Jack had contacted you?’

  I’d done as Jack had suggested and confessed everything to Fergus. Well, almost everything. I didn’t tell him about winning the money on football and – as requested – I didn’t tell him Jack and Geri knew there was a fourth teenager with the Medusa gene.

  Fergus paled when I mentioned Geri’s name.

  ‘God, I hoped Ed had got that bit wrong,’ he muttered. ‘You must stay away from that woman, Nico. I mean, Jack Linden’s bad enough. Untrustworthy sod. He was a really bad influence on William, encouraging him to push the boundaries of his research all the time – research which William should never have got involved with. But Geri Paterson’s in a different league.’

  ‘How do you know?’ I asked, curious.

  ‘I met her once, briefly. But my brother told me about her before he died, after he realised the Medusa gene was lethal. She provided all the funds for his research. Jack was just the go-between.’

  ‘But where did she get the money from?’ I frowned.

  ‘I don’t know. But William told me the funds were pretty much unlimited and that she had a huge hold over the police. Anyway, we’re not here to talk about Geri Paterson.’

  He changed the subject back to my shortcomings. I sat back in my chair and let the rest of his lecture wash over me. I was planning what I was going to say later to Ketty. Maybe if I finally told her how I felt about her, she’d understand that everything I’d done – all the lies I’d told and the money I’d managed to win – none of that was to make me look big. It had all been for her.

  ‘And so . . .’ Fergus sighed, ‘I feel I have no choice but to ground you from today through to the end of the Easter holidays.’

  I snapped back to attention. ‘What?’ The three-week holidays were due to begin at the end of the week. That meant almost a month of staying inside the school grounds. ‘You can’t.’

  ‘It’s the only way for me to make sure you understand how serious what you’ve done is . . . and to keep you safe. There must be no more communication with Jack Linden and Geri Paterson. And, obviously, no more telekinesis.’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ I said.

  Fergus leaned forwards. I noticed, for the first time, that there were deep lines etched across his forehead. ‘I wish you understood just how much you mean to me, Nico.’ His voice was strained.

  I looked down at the scuffed and scratched wooden floor. Fergus never talked about feelings like this. What was going on?

  ‘I loved your mother very much,’ Fergus stammered on. ‘And . . . and I love you.’

  I focused on a patch of floor where the whorl of wood combined with a particularly deep scratch. My face burned. It wasn’t that I didn’t love Fergus back. I did. It was just that talking about it felt awkward and embarrassing.

  ‘I realise we live in . . . in strange circumstances, what with this being a school and me being your head teacher. And I also know that I’m not the most demonstrative person in the world,’ Fergus said stiffly. ‘But I’ve tried to be a good stepfather. Up until a couple of years ago I think we had a good relationship. And then . . . I don’t know what’s happened since, Nico . . .’ Fergus tailed off.

  You don’t want to let me grow up.

  You try to control my life.

  You don’t listen.

  I was staring so hard at my patch of floor it had started to look like a face with only one ear.

  ‘Nico?’

  ‘’S all fine,’ I mumbled.

  Fergus sat back. ‘But it’s not all fine, is it? Come on, talk to me, Nico. I’m listening.’

  I looked up at last. Maybe if I tried to explain to him . . . maybe he’d see I hadn’t done anything deliberately to hurt him. I just wanted . . . needed . . . to be treated with respect.

  ‘I just . . . I just wish you would stop treating me like a baby.’

  ‘How do I . . .?’

  ‘Well, take the Medusa gene . . . you knew that it was inside me . . . that the virus William Fox used to implant it actually killed Mum. And yet you let me think she died of some random cancer.’

  ‘But she did,’ Fergus said. ‘A cancer that my brother created. I know William didn’t mean to create it, but he took risks, egged on by Jack and paid for by Geri.’

  ‘But you didn’t even tell me he existed,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t you understand, Nico?’ Fergus sighed. ‘My brother and I were reconciled before his death, but we hadn’t been close for months . . . years, even. Not since he got obsessed with the Medusa gene. And after he’d come to me and told me what he’d done – and the effect it was going to have on your mum – I got rid of all reminders of him . . . because every time I saw his face, I saw her death too. I decided you were better off not knowing anything about him or his work. And, I’m sorry, but I still think you’re better off not knowing—’

  ‘That’s what I’m talking about. Right there. You deciding what’s best for me.’

  ‘Of course that’s what I do.’ Fergus’s voice rose. ‘That’s my job as your stepfather.’

  I sighed. What was the point of trying to talk to him? He was never going to understand.

  We sat in silence for a few more moments, then Fergus muttered something about cooking me some breakfast and I muttered something back about getting my breakfast as usual at the canteen and I stumbled out of the flat.

  As planned, I waited until the afternoon, then went to look for Ketty. She was nowhere to be found. Lola thought she was still out running, though Lauren said she’d seen her strolling in the grounds with Ed. I checked several times later and they were both still missing.

  I could only assume they were outside somewhere, discussing what a horrible person I was.

  I felt really ill that evening. Flu, probably brought on by getting soaked the night before – or so Fergus insisted. He found me in the common room, still hoping to see Ketty that night, and hauled me up to the flat. I spent the next three days in bed, feeling extremely sorry for myself. I called Ketty over and over on my mobile and left at least three apologetic messages, but she didn’t answer and when I crawled downstairs, which I did at several break times, I was unable to find her before some teacher intercepted me and, grumbling that I was spreading my germs, sent me back upstairs to bed.

  Lola, Lauren and Tom came to visit briefly on my second evening. None of them mentioned Ketty – though Tom did tease me about Dylan again.

  ‘Still no picture of that mystery girlfriend, Nico?’ ‘Yeah, yeah,’ I said, barely listening. ‘I’ll sort it next time I see her.’

  I felt a lot better when I woke up on Thursday. That evening I wandered down to the common room, then along to the girls’ dorm, looking for Ketty. One of her room-mates said she was out running. I rolled my eyes. Didn’t the girl ever stop?

  Ketty was clearly avoiding me. Which meant that the only place I was going to be able to see her was in class. I decided that I had to go back to lessons tomorrow, Friday. It would be the last day of term and I was worried that if I didn’t see Ketty then, I might miss her altogether. She hadn’t said anything about visiting her parents in Singapore for Easter, but there was every chance that she would. Fergus agreed I was well enough. He also told me he was going away from early tomorrow for a couple of days . . . that Mr Rogerson and Ms Sanders, Fergus’s PA, would keep an eye on me . . . blah, blah . . . I didn’t really pay much attention
.

  All I could think about was trying to make up with Ketty.

  I woke early the next morning and – unheard of for me – was the first person to arrive for our first class of the day – maths, with Mr Rogerson.

  I kept an eye open for Ketty as everyone else arrived, but she didn’t turn up. At one minute to nine, I scurried over to Lola and Lauren and asked why she wasn’t there.

  ‘She’s gone off to that marathon in Scotland,’ Lauren explained.

  My mouth fell open, I’d forgotten all about the marathon.

  ‘Yeah, Mr Fox got permission off her parents to take her. He’s, like, signed up as her mentor and she’s staying with him in his house in Edinburgh.’

  What? My head spun. I knew about that house, though I’d never been there. It was Fergus’s parents’ old house – left to Fergus last year when his dad died. Why hadn’t Fergus told me he was going there? And why hadn’t he explained he was taking Ketty?

  ‘Ketty’s staying with Fergus?’ I stared at Lola, shocked.

  ‘Yeah.’ Lola made a face. ‘Rather her than me. After that, she’s off to her parents’ for the rest of the holidays.’

  Ketty was going to Singapore for the next three weeks? No way. I let out a groan.

  ‘Sorry, Nico, I forgot he’s your stepdad.’ Lola smiled apologetically, misunderstanding the look of horror on my face.

  ‘I wish he wasn’t,’ I muttered, my stomach turning somersaults as I anticipated the next few weeks without Ketty . . . without any chance to get her to change her mind about me.

  ‘I’m around this weekend, though.’ Lauren looked up at me from under her eyelashes.

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Lola giggled.

  ‘Right, er, thanks.’ I made my way back to my desk.

  Ketty was gone. And there was no way I could reach her. Fergus had not only grounded me, he’d taken that hundred pounds from the casino off me too.

  As Mr Rogerson strolled into the room, I sank down in my chair, defeated.

  By the end of the morning I’d decided to try and call Ketty in the house in Edinburgh. Fergus said he’d left the details with Ms Sanders. I wandered over to his office during the lunch break. Ketty might not be answering her mobile when she could see it was me ringing, but if I called her on Fergus’s landline she’d have to come to the phone.

  The office door was unlocked, but Ms Sanders had gone for lunch. I could see the Edinburgh phone number and address written on a notepad on her desk. As I copied them down, I glanced through to the inner office. Fergus’s own desk was in plain view, his PC a slim, silver oblong beyond the big leather chair he sat in.

  I wandered in. I was still supposed to be keeping my eyes open for information on Viper, the fourth teenager with the Medusa gene. This was the perfect time to have a look on Fergus’s office computer. Fergus himself was away and Ms Sanders wouldn’t be back for at least thirty minutes.

  Fergus’s office was a total reflection of his personality – all neat and ordered. Every book was positioned in alphabetical order, by author, and the files on the bottom shelves were clearly dated and labelled. I switched on his PC.

  As it buzzed into action, I wondered if Fergus still used my mum’s name as a password. When the log in command appeared, I tapped it in: LuciaRafael.

  A spread of folders appeared on the screen. Heart racing, I scanned them fast. Everything was labelled with predictable neatness. Files on everything school-related from pupils’ academic records to their fee payments. Nothing remotely connected to the Medusa gene. I searched Fergus’s documents folder. Nothing there, either. So where did he keep the information?

  I logged into Fergus’s main email account using Mum’s name as a password again and did searches under ‘Medusa’ and ‘Viper’ and ‘William Fox’. Still nothing. Apart from a few, vague legal exchanges about William’s estate, most of which Fergus had apparently inherited, there was no information at all.

  Frustrated, I sat back in the big leather chair. Ms Sanders would be back soon and I was no wiser about who Viper might be than I had been before. I stared at the open email account on the screen . . . Wait a minute. These emails only went back a couple of years. Fergus must have used an account before that – so where was it?

  I checked his hard drive to see if he’d saved the emails there. Yes. My eyes lit on a folder called Windows Live Hotmail. I looked at the inbox and the sent items, searching under the terms I’d used before. Nothing. On the verge of giving up, I opened the deleted files and searched again.

  Yes.

  A short list of emails met my eyes. They had been deleted just two days ago.

  I opened the top email. It was from William and dated a few months before I was born – presumably just before he died.

  My throat felt dry as I read the message, and the email that had proceeded it. They’d been sent over a single evening:

  William to Fergus:

  Medusa info I told you about locked up – safe in our library at home. You know the number if you need it. Remember your promise. W.

  Fergus to William:

  No one will ever know.

  Fergus

  I stared at the emails, my heart thudding. This was it. This had to be it. The ‘Medusa info’ Fergus was talking about had to mean the identities of the babies with the Medusa gene. Which included the identity of Viper, the missing girl. And the ‘promise’ that William referred to must have been Fergus’s promise to keep the data secret.

  I read the messages again. William said in his email that the information was locked up in ‘our library at home’. But I was certain that Fergus and William hadn’t lived together since they were children.

  And then it hit me: that was the ‘home’ William meant – his and Fergus’s parents’ house in Edinburgh . . . the very one that Fergus had gone to today. That was why William had written ‘our library’ and ‘you know the number’. Of course Fergus, as his brother, would know the library and the phone number . . . they belonged to his childhood home too.

  And that was why this email account had only recently been deleted. Knowing that Jack and Geri had come after me and Ed, Fergus must have decided to remove all reference to Medusa in his records, in case they came looking for more information.

  It all fitted. Now I understood why Fergus had gone away . . . he wanted a chance to get hold of the locked up ‘Medusa info’. Maybe even destroy it. Mentoring Ketty through her marathon was the perfect cover.

  I turned eagerly to the next email in the inbox. But at that point Ms Sanders bustled into the outer office.

  Damn.

  I ducked down behind the desk, but it was too late, she’d seen me.

  ‘Nico, is that you?’ Her flat Yorkshire accent sounded in the doorway.

  ‘Hiya.’As I sat up in Fergus’s leather chair, I switched off the hard drive under his desk.

  ‘What are you doing in here?’ Ms Sanders asked suspiciously.

  I thought fast, turning off the monitor as I stood up. ‘Fergus said he’d left some money for me in here.’

  Ms Sanders raised an eyebrow. ‘Nice try.’

  I shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s in the flat.’

  ‘More than likely, love.’ Ms Sanders went back to her own desk and picked up the piece of paper containing the Edinburgh phone number and address. ‘You can call him and ask him, if you like.’

  I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling for the crisp edge of the notepaper on which I’d written those details earlier. ‘No worries, thanks.’

  ‘All right, love. Well, look after yourself.’

  I threw her another smile as I sauntered out of the room. As soon as I was out of sight, I hared down the corridor. The bell was about to go for the end of lunch break and I needed to get somewhere quiet to call Jack.

  My long shot at getting money off Ms Sanders had failed, but once Jack knew that the information on Viper was locked up in Edinburgh, I was sure he’d pay for both of us to get up there.

  We’d have to move fast, though. K
etty’s marathon was tomorrow, Saturday. I had no idea how soon after that she’d be flying off to see her parents. I needed to get to Edinburgh as soon as possible.

  I couldn’t believe my luck. If I played my cards right, I’d get to see Ketty, face to face, after all. And if I could see her I’d surely be able to explain everything I needed to . . . and ask her out.

  I dashed outside and round the back of school, into the Tranquillity Gardens. In the distance I could hear the bell for afternoon lessons ringing. I dug my phone out of my pocket and called Jack.

  His mobile was switched off. Damn. Without hesitating, I scrolled to his home number and tried that. It rang twice. I fidgeted as I waited for Jack’s easy ‘Hi’.

  But it wasn’t Jack who answered.

  I recognised Dylan’s drawled ‘hey’ straight away.

  ‘Is Jack there?’ I asked.

  ‘Nah.’ I could hear she was chewing gum. ‘He’s not around. D’you want his cellphone number?’

  ‘No, I’ve got it.’ I hesitated. ‘So, how come he’s not there but you’re in his house?’

  ‘I just came by after going to the store,’ Dylan said, breezily. ‘Jack gave me keys – he said he’d be out most of the day . . . maybe overnight.’

  ‘Oh.’ I’d been so fixated on speaking to Jack, I didn’t know what to say. ‘I thought you were only here for a fortnight.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’m staying longer now,’ Dylan said dismissively. ‘So, why were you calling?’

  ‘Er . . .’ I didn’t want to tell her, but it wasn’t like I had time to mess around. I explained I was sure Fergus had the information about Viper, the fourth person with the Medusa gene in his house in Edinburgh.

  ‘Wow. Okay, I’ll tell Jack when he’s back,’ Dylan said.

  ‘No, that’s no good. I need to get up there straight away.’

  ‘Why?’

  I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to explain about Ketty. ‘I’m, er . . . I’m worried Fergus might have gone there to destroy the information.’

  ‘Really?’ Dylan sounded excited. ‘Okay, then you and I should go there now. How soon can you get to the station?’