‘Sorry,’ I muttered. ‘Something else came up.’
‘Something more important than proving Dad innocent?’ Gib exploded.
I didn’t answer.
‘You don’t give a monkey’s what happens to Dad, do you? All you care about is yourself.’
‘That’s not true – or fair.’ I leaped out of my chair. ‘Something else came up that I had to deal with, that’s all.’
‘And meanwhile, Eric’s in the clear and Dad might go to prison. I got Eric’s phone number from the staff file we printed out and phoned his house. His wife said he was at work so he hasn’t skipped off to the Bahamas yet, but for all we know he might be planning to leave at any second,’ Gib fumed.
‘Talk sense, Gib,’ I snapped. ‘What would he use for money? That million was found in Dad’s account not his, and the bank hasn’t reported any more money missing …’
‘That doesn’t mean that Eric isn’t up to something. Dad still needs our help. If you keep dossing about, Eric will get away,’ Gib said furiously.
‘Then why don’t you stop him? Why leave everything to me?’ I snapped back.
‘If I knew how to use the computer to get the proof Dad needs then I wouldn’t bother you,’ Gib said. ‘But I don’t. And Chaucy might be good at computing but he doesn’t know the Universal Bank system.’
‘I said I was sorry,’ I sighed. ‘Besides, I think I’ve worked out how it was done …’
‘But what if it’s too late?’
I tried hard to hold on to my temper. I gritted my teeth and said, ‘Gib, do you want to know my idea or not? You said yourself that Eric is at work, pretending everything is as normal. He has no idea we’re on to him.’
Gib glared at me. ‘I guess I can’t expect anything different from you. After all …’
My bedroom went deathly quiet.
‘After all – what? Go on. Finish what you were going to say,’ I prompted.
‘I was going to say, after all you are only a girl,’ Gib finished.
‘Yeah, I bet you were,’ I scoffed.
‘Yes I was,’ Gib replied vehemently.
‘Well, now that you’ve said it, get lost!’ I barked at him. ‘I’ve got things to do.’
Gib left the room, slamming my bedroom door shut behind him. I stared at the closed door. What was happening? I’d had more quarrels in the last few days than I’d had in my entire life. And I hated it.
‘Can I get you anything, Mum? A cup of tea? Coffee? Do you want anything, Dad?’
Mum and Dad exchanged a rueful glance before they both turned to look at me.
‘No thank you, pumpkin,’ Dad smiled.
It was seven o’clock and we’d just finished dinner. I’d helped Dad cook it and I’d loaded up the dishwasher all by myself, without being asked. I’d even volunteered to mop the kitchen floor afterwards.
This was it! Time to give Dad and Mum the letter from Miss Hiff. I couldn’t put it off any longer, but I had to choose my moment.
‘How are you feeling, Dad?’ I asked.
‘I think I’ll go and do my homework.’ Gib stood up quickly and scarpered. Coward!
‘I feel fine, Victoria.’ Dad raised his eyebrows but said nothing else.
‘Mum, why don’t you have a lie down? You should rest,’ I told her.
‘I am resting,’ Mum replied.
Mum and Dad exchanged another look. I wondered if I was overdoing it. I licked my lips nervously.
‘Come on, Victoria – out with it!’ Dad laughed. ‘The suspense is killing me.’
‘Out with what?’ I asked, playing innocent.
‘Vicky, we might have been born yesterday but it was early in the morning,’ Mum told me with a smile. ‘What’s the matter?’
Desperately, I tried to think of some suitable answer. Nothing came to mind, so I decided on the truth.
‘You’re not supposed to get upset, Mum,’ I muttered.
‘Oh dear! Is it that bad?’ Mum sighed.
I nodded slowly.
‘Then I’ll stay sitting down,’ Mum said. ‘Now, what is it?’
Reluctantly, I dug into the pocket of my jeans and got out Miss Hiff’s now severely crumpled letter. I gave it to Dad, who took it gingerly between his thumb and finger. Looking at it again, I had to admit that it did look rather manky. I watched as Dad opened the envelope.
‘I’ll put the envelope in the bin for you if you like,’ I offered eagerly, practically snatching the envelope out of his hands.
Dad put the letter between him and Mum and they both started reading. I had to force myself to walk, not run from the room. But I walked really quickly. Once I was in the kitchen, I tore the envelope into tiny pieces and dropped them in the wastebin. At least the problem of the envelope was out of the way. Then I legged it out of the kitchen and up the stairs – or at least, I tried.
‘Victoria! Get down here!’ Dad hollered before I’d even got halfway.
I was tempted to pretend I hadn’t heard him.
‘VICTORIA! NOW!’ Dad yelled.
I turned around and walked back down, dragging my feet. My heart was pounding like a pneumatic drill and tears welled up in my eyes. I suddenly felt so cold. I wondered if I should give in and cry and get Dad and Mum’s sympathy up front? In spite of how slowly I was walking, I reached the living room.
‘I didn’t do it. Honest I didn’t. I swear.’ I spoke before either of them had a chance.
‘It says here …’
‘I didn’t do it …’
‘It says here,’ Dad continued firmly, ‘that you hacked into Mrs Bracken’s PC account and read the maths file.’
Mum was shaking her head at me as Dad spoke. Both their faces were stern, grim.
‘You’ve already made up your minds that I did it, haven’t you?’ I shouted at them. ‘You don’t believe me, do you? You’d believe me if I were Gib.’
‘And just what does that mean, young lady?’ Mum’s voice was ice cold.
‘You haven’t even heard my side yet but I’m guilty,’ I screamed at her. And suddenly all the hurt and anger that I’d been through over the last few days came flooding out of my mouth. ‘I bet you’d believe me if I was your real daughter. My real mum and dad would have believed me …’
Silence.
I don’t know who was more stunned at my words – me or Mum and Dad. I hadn’t meant to say that. I don’t know where it came from. Then again, maybe I did …
Now that the words were out, they hung between us like a curtain. Something warm and salty ran into my mouth. Only then did I realize I was crying.
‘Victoria, how could you say that?’ Mum said quietly. ‘If you say you didn’t do it, then we believe you.’
‘No you don’t,’ I sniffed. ‘I saw the look on your faces.’
‘You’re not being fair, Victoria,’ Dad began.
‘Yes I am,’ I argued. ‘You read Miss Hiff’s letter and made up your minds instantly. Well, it wasn’t me. I know who really did do it and it wasn’t me.’
‘I think we all need to calm down, Victoria,’ Dad said. ‘I think you should go to your room.’
‘With pleasure,’ I retorted.
I ran out of the room and upstairs. Dad didn’t call after me to walk not run. That made me feel worse. Gib was on the landing at the top of the stairs, listening. He stood back when he saw me. I ran past him into my room, slamming the door shut. I threw myself down on the bed, burying my face in my pillow. Giving Mum and Dad the headmistress’s letter hadn’t gone the way I’d wanted it to go at all. I’d spent all afternoon rehearsing what I would say and how I would say it, but when the moment had arrived …
Why was nothing ever simple? I stood up and got out the photograph of my real mum and dad from my sock drawer. I returned to my bed and lay down on my back, holding the photograph out in front of me. I felt so lonely.
A few minutes later there was a knock at my door. I ignored it, hoping whoever it was would go away.
‘Can I come in?’
Dad popped his head around the door.
I nodded reluctantly.
Dad came into my room, carefully closing the door behind him. I sat up but I couldn’t look at him. I stared down at my duvet instead. Dad hovered in the middle of the room.
‘Victoria … your mum and I are worried about you,’ Dad began.
‘Why?’ I mumbled. ‘I’m all right.’
‘But you’re obviously not. Have all my problems with the bank made you angry with us, with me?’
Shocked, I looked up. ‘No! No, of course not.’
‘Then what’s the matter?’
I shrugged, looking down again. Nervously, I laced the duvet in and out between my fingers.
‘Do you mind if I sit?’ Dad asked.
I shook my head. I felt the end of the bed sink as Dad sat down heavily, but I still couldn’t look at him.
‘I know that sometimes it’s difficult for you, Victoria,’ Dad said softly. ‘I know sometimes you feel a bit like a sore thumb, especially when people see you with your mum and start staring at you. But I want to say one thing. As far as your mum and I are concerned you are our daughter, as if you were born to us. Sometimes we have a job to remember that you weren’t. But it makes no difference to how we feel about you. So that’s how we treat you, like our daughter, ’cause that’s who you are. And if you think we don’t treat you like that then you’re wrong. Dead wrong. Do you understand, Victoria?’
‘Dad …’ I began tentatively. How should I put this? ‘Dad, are you and Mum sometimes sorry you adopted me?’
‘Never,’ Dad replied immediately. ‘Never, ever.’
‘Why … why did you adopt me?’ I asked, my head still bent.
‘Well …’ Dad began slowly. ‘We had our names down to be foster parents and when your parents were killed and it was found out that you had no close relatives, the social services asked us if we would foster you. And of course, once we’d seen you, there was no way we could give you back, even when we un-expectedly discovered that Laura was pregnant with Gib. So we applied to adopt you.’
‘Oh, I see,’ I said. ‘Weren’t you s-sorry when you knew you were going to have Gib?’
‘Of course not,’ Dad said. ‘We thought and still think we’re the luckiest people in the world.’
‘I bet lots of people told you not to adopt me,’ I whispered.
‘One or two people. Laura and I soon told them where to go. Your Aunt Beth was one of the few people who understood our decision. She was great. She really supported your mum and me.’ Dad smiled. ‘Victoria, you can’t go through life trying to please everyone. You’d never do it – it’s impossible. You just end up pleasing no one. So you just have to please yourself.’
Maybe that was my problem. Maybe I was trying to please too many people. Gib and Chaucy, Maggie and Gayle. And in trying to please everyone, I’d end up pleasing no one.
‘All right then,’ Dad said, his tone of voice changing to become more firm. ‘Now, tell me all about this maths-exam business. From the beginning.’
Picking my way carefully through the words, I told him – leaving out the bit about opening the letter! I implied that Miss Hiff had told me what I was supposed to be guilty of in her office.
‘You said downstairs that you know who the real culprit is,’ Dad said when I’d finished.
‘Yeah, I guess …’
‘Are you guessing or do you know?’ Dad asked sternly.
‘I know.’
‘Who is it?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘It’s someone you know from school?’ Dad asked after a moment’s silence.
‘Yes …’
‘A friend …?’
‘She’s not my friend any more,’ I sighed. ‘I told her that if she didn’t tell Miss Hiff the truth then I would.’
‘And are you going to?’ Dad asked.
Slowly, I shook my head.
‘Victoria, I can understand that you don’t want to tell tales but …’
‘I can’t tell you, Dad. I just can’t,’ I pleaded.
Dad frowned.
‘Why does Miss Hiff say in her letter that you admitted to breaking into Mrs Bracken’s answer file?’ Dad asked, after a moment’s pause.
‘’Cause she asked me if I’d got the answers by using a program and I did.’
‘Oh?’
‘I used the programmable calculator you and Mum bought me for Christmas to get the answers,’ I said reluctantly.
‘You wrote a program on it?’ Dad asked.
‘That’s right. And when she asked me, I thought she was talking about writing a program on that …’
‘When instead she was talking about Mrs Bracken’s PC,’ Dad concluded.
I nodded.
‘Victoria, you know you shouldn’t have used your calculator like that in a maths exam,’ Dad said. ‘That’s not why we bought it for you.’
‘I know. I just thought … I thought I was being clever,’ I admitted. ‘It didn’t occur to me until Crackly Bracken went nuclear that I maybe shouldn’t have done it.’
Dad’s lips twitched.
‘There’s no “maybe” about it. You shouldn’t have done it. I trust you’re not going to do it again?’
‘No fear,’ I replied instantly.
‘Right! I’m down that school first thing tomorrow morning to get this sorted out.’ Dad stood up. ‘Now you finish your homework and then come downstairs and I’ll give you a game of chess.’
He walked to the door.
‘Dad, was Mum … was Mum upset?’ I had to know.
Dad said, ‘A little, but she’ll be all right.’
‘I … I’m sorry,’ I whispered.
‘That’s OK, pumpkin,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t be my daughter if you didn’t get strange ideas sometimes.’
I smiled as he left the room. I felt a lot better now I’d had a proper talk with Dad. No sooner did my bedroom door shut, than it opened again.
‘Hi, Vicky, are you OK?’ Gib asked, hovering just inside the door.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. What do you want?’ I asked ungraciously.
‘You said you had an idea about how to prove Eric’s the crook, not Dad,’ Gib replied.
I sighed. Would it kill Gib to say he was sorry – just once? If he ever apologized to me – for anything – I would pass out from severe shock.
‘I was thinking about it today,’ I said, bouncing off the bed. ‘I reckon I’ve worked out why the date and time of the TIMETRV object file are a whole day after the program got linked.’
‘I’m listening.’ Gib came into the room and sat down in my chair. I sat at the edge of my bed.
‘Well, I was thinking about how I’d try to get money from the bank,’ I said eagerly. ‘If I didn’t have access to the cashiers’ user accounts and I could write a program to do it, I reckon it would be quite simple – if I knew exactly what I was doing.’
‘Go on.’
‘I’d change a noddy program days before it was needed, to contain one of those time-trap things Dad was talking about. One of the programs that runs every night. Then, on a certain day at a certain time, the money would get transferred.’
‘I get you,’ Gib said, leaning forward. ‘But how would you get round the acceptance testers? They check all the source programs to make sure there’s nothing in them that shouldn’t be there.’
‘Ah, but suppose I changed a noddy program that did something pretty boring to include the time-trap code I wanted, to transfer money about? I could compile it so I’d have an object file, then re-edit the source code to take my time-trap code out.’
‘And that’s what you’d give to the acceptance testers …’ Gib said with a slow smile. He always was fast on the uptake.
‘Exactly! I’d wait for them to check the source program and compile it, and then I’d overwrite their object file which doesn’t contain the time-trap …’
‘With your object file which does.’
Gib and I smiled at each othe
r.
‘And it’d be that object file that they linked and ran. Of course, they wouldn’t see any sign of the time-trap because that bit of code wouldn’t run until the date and time I’d already specified.’
‘Very clever.’ Gib whistled. ‘But what about the object file? Why was it dated one day ahead of the linked file?’
‘Think about it. You’ve fiddled about with all these files and you know they’ve all got different dates and times. The only file that you want left on the system that contains any of your time-trap program would be the linked file. So after TIMETRV has been linked, you then overwrite the object file with a clean version of the same thing. Then there’s less chance of the fiddle being detected.’
‘Except that the date of the object file is different in the batch library,’ Gib pointed out.
‘But who would notice that? Why would they even check that? Once it goes through the acceptance testers, all anyone cares about are the files on the live system, not the development system. And only the linked files get copied across to the live system,’ I said, practically bouncing off the bed by this time.
‘And if it wasn’t for you printing off the batch library file on the development system accidentally …’ Gib grinned.
‘And your brilliant eyesight,’ I beamed.
‘Then no one would be any the wiser,’ Gib said. ‘That’s terrific!’
‘That has to be the way it was done,’ I said. ‘Don’t you think?’
‘I don’t see any other way it could be done,’ Gib agreed.
For the first time in ages, I actually began to feel good. We were getting closer and closer all the time. I felt sure that that was how it was done. I couldn’t help feeling a bit clever.
Then my smile faded. ‘Now that brings us to Eric and why he put that million pounds in Dad’s account.’
‘Do you think more than the million was taken?’ Gib asked.
‘I’m sure of it,’ I frowned. ‘The thing is, why hasn’t the bank discovered more missing money yet?’
‘They knew pretty quickly that Dad had the money in his account,’ Gib said.
‘And we must be talking about an awful lot of money being taken out if Eric can stick one million pounds into Dad’s account, just like that,’ I said.
‘Not yet …’ Gib said slowly.
‘Pardon!’