The first part of the plan – getting the recorder into the phone box – was relatively simple. It was all a matter of timing. As Jaydie had explained to me, Dee Dee had a network of kids whose one and only job was to keep an eye on the phone box and make sure no one went near it. So in order to plant the recorder without being spotted, Jaydie had to somehow distract the kid who was watching it. The problem was, it was impossible to tell which kid was on duty – and where they were – at any given time. Jaydie’s solution to this problem was brilliantly simple. She planned to create a distraction that was so spectacular that no one on the entire estate could ignore it, so it didn’t matter who was watching the phone box or where they were watching it from. Whoever and wherever they were, they’d be distracted.
The girl Jaydie chose to help her with this was a somewhat troubled sixteen-year-old called Della Hoyt. Even by Slade standards, Della had had a really tough life, and while she’d never actually been convicted of anything, she had a long record of arrests and cautions for relatively minor offences – shoplifting, possession of drugs, threatening behaviour. According to Jaydie, she wasn’t really a ‘bad’ girl, she just had a lot of emotional problems that sometimes got too much for her. Della had learned all about explosives from her older brother Eric who’d been a militant animal-rights activist. Eric had died when Della was fourteen, accidentally blowing himself up during a raid on a cosmetics company that tested their products on animals.
When Jaydie asked Della if she could produce an explosion that was big enough and loud enough to be heard all over the estate, but that wouldn’t hurt anyone or cause any damage, Della said simply, ‘No problem. When do you want it and where?’
The ‘when’ was today, Tuesday, at precisely midday; the ‘where’ was a patch of wasteground at the back of the block of flats where Dee Dee lived.
So, at exactly one minute to twelve, Jaydie was sitting on a brick wall about fifty metres away from the phone box. She had her mobile in her hand and was going through the motions of writing a text. In reality, she was just staring at the clock on her phone, counting down the seconds. At 11.59 and thirty seconds, she got to her feet and started ambling towards the phone box. She’d already done a trial run, timing how long it took to get from the brick wall to the phone box, so as long as Della’s timing was spot on, everything should be OK. Jaydie’s heart was beating hard now, and she was finding it really hard to keep looking inconspicuous. You’re just strolling along, she kept telling herself. You’re not going anywhere in particular, you’re not up to anything, you’re just wandering across the square . . .
She was about two metres away from the phone box when the explosion went off, an almighty KA-BOOM! that shook the ground and sent a thick cloud of black smoke billowing into the air. Even though she was expecting it, the sudden explosion still gave Jaydie a shock, but she recovered almost immediately and rapidly went to work – nipping quickly into the phone box, taking the recorder from her pocket, crouching down and fixing it to the underside of a metal ledge, right at the back so it was completely out of sight.
She was in and out in less than five seconds.
Job done.
To avoid looking suspicious, she headed off towards the patch of wasteground, joining the throng of residents who were already pouring out of their flats to find out what the hell was going on.
At the exact moment the explosion went off, the second part of Jaydie’s plan was reaching its conclusion. The friend she’d picked to carry out this part of the operation was the oldest one of the group, a nineteen-year-old girl called Jazz Lipka. Jazz was chosen for a number of reasons – she was fearless, well-connected, brimming with self-confidence – but above all she was astonishingly beautiful.
‘I mean, compared to Jazz,’ Jaydie told me, ‘Angelina Jolie looks like a bag lady.’
Jazz had used her connections to get a message to Dee Dee that she had something really important to tell him, something that she could only tell him in person. If it had been anyone else, there was a good chance that Dee Dee would have either ignored the message or simply refused to see her. But another reason that Jazz had been chosen for this part of the plan was the fact that she was in a long-term relationship with another girl, and that everyone on the estate, including Dee Dee, knew about it. As Jazz herself said, ‘Dee Dee’s the kind of idiotically arrogant Neanderthal who just can’t accept that a woman would rather be with another woman than with a hunk of man like him. Morons like Dee Dee think of girls like me as a challenge. He won’t pass up the chance to sway me with his manly charms.’
So a meeting was arranged – and even for Jazz it took a lot of string-pulling to make sure the meeting took place at midday on Tuesday – and at 11.55 she showed up at Dee Dee’s flat. She knew she’d be checked for weapons and wires, so she had the tracker hidden under a clip in her hair, which was further covered up by a baseball cap. As she’d guessed, Dee Dee’s bodyguards were hired for their muscle not their minds, and although they checked her cap, it never occurred to them to look any further.
At 11.58 she was finally shown into Dee Dee’s flat.
‘And there he was,’ she told Jaydie later, ‘sitting in a red velvet chair, smoking a cigarette and drinking brandy, surrounded by a bunch of wannabe girlfriends and fawning hangers-on, like he was some kind of big-shot gangster rapper or something.’
In case things went wrong – say the explosion didn’t go off, or Dee Dee wasn’t wearing his usual suit – Jazz had a back-up plan. She was going to tell him that she’d heard from a friend, who’d heard from another friend, that Joss Malik was planning a raid on his flat. And if Dee Dee asked her for more details, she was going to plead ignorance and tell him that that was all she knew, but that she’d do her best to find out more.
In the end though, she didn’t need Plan B, because just as Dee Dee asked her what she wanted to see him about, the explosion went off. By now Jazz had taken the tracker from her hair clip and was holding it out of sight in her hand, and she was standing less than a metre away from Dee Dee. At the sound of the explosion – KA-BOOM! – Jazz let out a frightened scream and stumbled forward, falling into Dee Dee’s lap. She just had time to slip the tracker into his top pocket before he cursed at her and pushed her off, and then all hell broke loose. Dee Dee jumped out of his chair and was immediately surrounded by his bodyguards, some of his wannabe girlfriends started to panic, screaming and running around the flat like headless chickens, and while all this was going on, Jazz was completely forgotten. She got to her feet, smiling quietly to herself, and casually walked out of the flat.
Job done.
37
I woke up to the sound of my mobile ringing. For a moment or two I had no idea where I was, or what time it was, or even what day it was. It was a bit of a scary feeling, but it was one that I’d kind of got used to over the last few months. Even though I felt completely at home at Nan and Grandad’s, I still sometimes woke up thinking I was back at my old house in Kell Cross, back in my old bedroom, with Mum and Dad downstairs . . .
This wasn’t quite the same kind of feeling, but it was similar enough for me to know how to deal with it. All I had to do was stay calm and wait, and eventually my brain would clear and I’d realise where I was. And after about five seconds, that’s exactly what happened. I knew where I was now – in my room at Nan and Grandad’s – but I still didn’t know what time it was. I fumbled for my still-ringing phone and glanced at the clock. It was 16.08.
‘Hello,’ I said, answering the phone.
‘Travis?’ a familiar voice said. ‘It’s Kendal. Are you all right?’
‘Yeah,’ I muttered, rubbing sleep from my eyes. ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
‘I heard about your friend,’ he said. ‘The one who got beaten up or something? How’s she doing?’
‘Not too bad. She’s still in hospital, but hopefully she’ll be out soon.’
‘Right. . .’
I could sense his hesitation, and I guessed he was wondering
if he had to offer any more sympathies, or if he could just get on with what he really wanted to say.
‘Don’t worry,’ I told him, putting him out of his misery, ‘I’ll be back at school tomorrow.’
‘Great,’ he said. ‘I mean, I didn’t want to pressure you or anything, I was just, you know . . .’
‘Yeah, it’s all right. I understand.’
‘So I’ll see you tomorrow then. Cup Final day.’
‘Yep.’
‘OK. Well, I hope your friend gets better soon.’
‘Yeah.’
Like you care, I thought, ending the call.
There was an unopened text on my phone. I clicked on it and saw that it was from Jaydie: all done, it read, no probs. call u wen I hear anyfin. jx
I texted back – brilliant! travx
It was now 16.14.
Time to go to the hospital.
On the way into town, I decided that it was finally time to tell Grandad what I’d found out about Gloria. I still wasn’t sure about letting him know what Jaydie and I were up to, mainly because I knew how he’d react if I did. He’d say it was too risky, too dangerous, and he’d do everything in his power to make sure we didn’t go ahead with it. But, the way I saw it, we had to go ahead with it. It was the only way to bring down Dee Dee and make him pay for what he’d done to Courtney. The trouble with that though, the thing that made me a bit scared of not telling Grandad what we were doing – and also, if I’m completely honest, a bit scared of actually doing it – was that Grandad was already so messed up with guilt about Courtney, blaming himself for not looking after her, that if anything happened to me or Jaydie, or anyone else for that matter, it was just going to make things even worse for him. More misplaced guilt, more weight on his shoulders, more burdens to bear. I couldn’t do that to him, could I? But at the same time I couldn’t just sit around doing nothing either. I couldn’t wrap myself up in cotton wool for the rest of my life just so that Grandad wouldn’t have to feel guilty if anything happened to me, could I?
Or maybe I could . . . ?
I just didn’t know.
And maybe that was why I’d decided to tell Grandad about Gloria. Because it made me feel that at least I was telling him something, I wasn’t hiding everything from him. He wouldn’t like finding out about Gloria, but at least it wouldn’t be something he’d have to feel guilty about.
Nan wasn’t there when I arrived at the hospital, she was still at Courtney’s house looking after her mum until the night carer arrived, but Grandad wasn’t on his own. When I walked into Courtney’s room, he was sitting on one side of the bed, Courtney was sitting up in bed with a tray of food in her lap, and on the other side of the bed, to my utter surprise and dismay, was Gloria.
‘Hi, Travis,’ Courtney said, smiling through a mouthful of food. ‘Have you had a good day?’
‘Uh, yeah, thanks,’ I muttered, trying to hide my disappointment. ‘How are you doing? You look a lot brighter than you did this morning.’
‘I’m as bright as a button,’ she said breezily. ‘And raring to go. I’m seeing the doc in half an hour, and hopefully he’s going to let me go home.’
‘That’s wonderful news.’
‘He didn’t say you could go home,’ Grandad corrected her. ‘He just said that he’ll see how it goes and maybe you can leave tomorrow.’
Courtney grinned. ‘Doctors never mean what they say. Just you wait and see, I’ll be out of here by tonight.’
I glanced at Gloria. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’
‘Why not?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know . . . I suppose I just thought you’d be keeping things going at the office.’
‘I’ve been “keeping things going at the office” all day, thank you very much,’ she said. ‘The office can do without me for an hour or two.’
‘She brought me some grapes,’ Courtney said.
How original, I thought.
‘That’s nice,’ I said.
‘You want one?’ Courtney said. ‘They’re on the cupboard. Help yourself.’
It was such a relief to see that Courtney was looking so much better, and that – on the surface at least – she seemed to be getting back to her normal self. I should have been really pleased. And I was, for her. But Gloria’s presence had put a dampener on everything for me. I didn’t want her to be here. She didn’t belong here. It was like she was with us, and everyone was treating her as part of the family, but I knew what she really was. I knew she was a traitor, and I wanted to scream it out loud and let everyone know – SHE’S A LIAR! A FAKE! A SHAM! SHE’S A DIRTY DOUBLE-CROSSING RAT!
But I knew I couldn’t say anything. Not now. Not here.
When Nan arrived at just gone five, I hoped – and expected – that Gloria would leave. But she didn’t. She just sat there, smiling pleasantly at Nan and making polite conversation. I could tell that Nan felt really uncomfortable. She didn’t show it, and she was perfectly civil to Gloria, but she couldn’t fool me. I knew what she was thinking. What the hell is she doing here? Who does she think she is?
Nan stayed for about twenty minutes, but when it became clear that Gloria wasn’t going anywhere, she made her apologies to Courtney, explaining that she was really tired, and started getting ready to go.
‘I’ll come with you, Nan,’ I said.
We said our goodbyes to Grandad and Gloria, and we both gave Courtney a gentle hug, and then we just left them to it. We found a taxi on the rank outside that was big enough to take my bike, and we set off home.
On any other Tuesday night I would have gone to my boxing club, but although it probably would have done me a power of good to spend a couple of hours in the gym – pummelling away on the heavy punchbags, working the speedball, maybe a few rounds of sparring in the ring – there was something more important I had to do that night. I had to tell Nan what I’d found out about Gloria. It was really wearing me down having to keep it to myself, and as I seemed to have a problem telling Grandad – forever finding excuses not to – I’d decided that Nan was my best bet. Besides, if anyone deserved to know the truth, it was Nan. She was the one who’d suspected Gloria from the start, so maybe it was only fitting that she found out the truth about her first.
All I had to do now was wait for the right moment to tell her.
I thought that moment had come when Grandad rang around seven to let Nan know that Dr Adams had decided to keep Courtney in for one more night, just to be on the safe side, and that he was staying the night with her again.
‘Is Gloria still there?’ Nan asked him.
She listened to his reply, then said, ‘You know why.’
They talked for a few more minutes, and when Nan eventually put down the phone she didn’t look very happy at all.
‘Is she still there?’ I asked her.
‘Not according to your grandad,’ Nan muttered. ‘He said she left half an hour ago.’
‘He wouldn’t lie to you, Nan,’ I said gently. ‘You know that.’
She glared at me, and just for a moment I thought she was going to snap at me and tell me that it was none of my business, but almost immediately the anger faded from her eyes and she came over, put her arms round me, and gave me a big hug.
‘I’m sorry, love,’ she said tearfully. ‘I’m just being silly. I know your grandad wouldn’t lie to me. It’s just. . . it’s just. . .’
She gave a little gulp then and started sobbing, and for the next minute or two we just stood there hugging each other tightly. Despite all the sadness and tears, it actually felt kind of nice – just me and Nan, on our own, not talking about anything, just being together – and I began to think it would be a shame to spoil things by bringing up the subject of Gloria. I knew I had to though. I couldn’t put it off any longer.
‘Listen, Nan,’ I started to say. ‘About Gloria—’
‘Not now, eh?’ she said softly, letting go of me and wiping her eyes. ‘I’m sick to death of thinking about Gloria Nightingale.’ She sm
iled sadly at me. ‘Let’s just try and have a nice normal evening together, shall we?’
‘Yeah, but I need to tell you—’
‘Please, Travis,’ she pleaded, ‘I really can’t deal with it at the moment.’ She sighed. ‘Look, love, I know I should have talked to you about all this business with Gloria and Grandad and me, and I’m really sorry you had to find out about it from Granny Nora instead of me.’
‘How do you know I talked to her? Did she tell you?’
Nan shook her head. ‘I just put two and two together.’
‘She was only trying to help,’ I said defensively.
‘It’s all right, Trav. I don’t mind you talking to her about it, I’m just sorry you felt you had to. If I hadn’t been so wound up with my own stupid feelings . . .’ She paused, letting out a long and weary sigh, and I could see that she was really struggling – her shoulders were slumped, her eyes were heavy, she was so frail and exhausted she could barely stand up straight.
‘It’s all right, Nan,’ I said, putting my arm round her shoulders. ‘We don’t have to talk about anything now.’
‘I’ve just been so worried about everything,’ she muttered. ‘Courtney, her poor mother, Grandad, you . . . Gloria. I’m sorry, Travis, but the last thing I need right now is a conversation about that woman.’
‘You go and sit down,’ I told her. ‘I’ll put the telly on and make us something to eat.’
She smiled at me, not so sadly this time. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow, I promise. Grandad will be home by the time you get back from school. We can all sit down together and discuss things properly. Is that OK?’
‘Of course it is,’ I said, ushering her into the front room. ‘Now, what do you want to eat?’
‘Thanks, Travis, but I’m not really hungry.’
I gave her a serious look. ‘If I’m looking after you, you’re going to eat something reasonably healthy at least once a day. Understood?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said, grinning at me.
I smiled. ‘How does beans on toast sound?’