Blood Ties Page 8

My heart raced. It suddenly hit me how stupid I’d been. Mum had warned me, over and over, that I had to stay hidden. Why hadn’t I listened to her?

  I turned away from the screen to find Max and Jake both staring at me.

  ‘Guess I’m not exactly Mr Popular.’ I attempted a weak smile.

  ‘What you gonna do, dude?’ Jake said. His face was pale.

  ‘I’ll be okay,’ I said, more confidently than I felt. ‘I’ve got Roy, haven’t I? And Mr Smith doesn’t know where I live. I lied about everything – surname, school, address. Everything. I’ll call Rachel – make extra sure she doesn’t tell him the—’

  ‘Like your pathetic lies are going to stop him finding out.’ Max snorted. ‘Theo, I think you should tell your mum what’s going on.’

  I imagined the conversation. Mum would be angry. And then upset. But most of all she would be scared. So scared she would probably never let me outside the house again. And she’d hire a new bodyguard. Three probably. Or else she’d insist we moved house. Immediately. Out of London. Maybe even out of the country.

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to tell her, but what choice did I have? This whole thing had got way, way too big for me to handle on my own now.

  ‘Hey, Theo.’ I opened my eyes. Jake was studying the email again. ‘What d’you think this Apollo stuff’s about?’

  ‘It’s their code name for James Lawson’s son. Me.’

  ‘I know.’ Jake frowned. ‘But why? I mean, I didn’t think about it before, but Mr Smith mentioned James Lawson by name in that first email. And Simpson – whoever he is – here. So why use a code name for you and this Zeus guy? It doesn’t make sense.’

  I stared at the screen. Max had brought up the original email so that it was side by side with the second. Jake was right.

  ‘And why use another Greek god’s name for Rachel?’ I said.

  ‘Goddess,’ Max said. ‘Artemis was a goddess, remember?’

  I nodded impatiently. ‘It’s too weird for me,’ I said. ‘How about we play Deathmaster Battleground? Three-player game?’

  I didn’t really want to play. I just wanted a few minutes to think, without Max and Jake looking at me like I was on the endangered species list. We started playing. I could tell Max wasn’t really concentrating, but she still beat me and Jake so easily when we were all playing separately that after a few rounds Jake and I teamed up.

  It didn’t make much difference.

  ‘Move your Secret Scyther,’ Jake yelled. ‘Theo. Move your . . . Oh, for God’s sake, dude . . .’ He threw his controller onto the floor.

  ‘Sorry.’ I stood up. ‘Play without me. I need a pee anyway.’

  I went down the corridor to Max’s bathroom. It was piled high with dirty clothing. I sat on the side of the bath and looked down at my hands.

  They were shaking.

  This helix of panic whirled up through my chest into my throat.

  We have to shut him up – permanently.

  This was real. This was what my dad had been living with for years.

  I thought about Roy downstairs. For the first time in my life I was glad I had a bodyguard. I wondered if my dad had one.

  I ran my hand through my hair. And it struck me. Of course. Suddenly I knew what I had to do next.

  I strode back towards Max’s room.

  ‘You’re the best girl I’ve ever met at this game,’ Jake was saying in his ‘smooth’ voice.

  I stopped in the doorway.

  Jake had shuffled sideways across the carpet towards Max. He was smiling hopefully at her.

  Max shot him a withering look. ‘I should think I’m the best person you’ve ever met at this game,’ she said. ‘Being a girl’s got nothing to do with it.’

  ‘I’m going,’ I said. Part of me wanted to tell them what I’d decided. Only a small part, though.

  Jake and Max looked up from the floor.

  ‘You okay, dude?’ Jake said.

  I nodded. ‘I’m gonna go home. Think about what to say to Mum. D’you want a lift, Jake?’

  He gave me a half-smile. ‘Nah,’ he said. ‘I’m cool here.’

  Max raised her eyes. ‘So you don’t mind being beaten by a girl then?’ She sniffed contemptuously. ‘Hardly anyone realises it, but women are actually naturally much better at computer games than men. And at hacking. Plus women hackers use what they do responsibly. Not like all those jerks who introduce viruses to screw up people’s lives and steal money . . .’

  I wandered back down the corridor. Roy drove me home in silence. As soon as I got there, I took the cordless up to my room and punched in the number. My chest tightened as I heard her voice on the other end.

  ‘Rachel?’ I said. ‘I need your help.’

  22

  Rachel

  Theo’s voice was low and intense, like something big was wrong.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ I said, shutting my bedroom door.

  ‘The guy from RAGE sent your dad an email.’

  He explained what the email said. I sank onto my bed. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Dad couldn’t want to hurt Theo. Theo hadn’t done anything.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ My voice was coming out all weird and hoarse.

  There was a pause.

  ‘Theo?’

  He sighed. ‘What I should do is tell my mum. But I can’t. I just can’t. She’ll completely freak. And then she’ll probably make us move away.’

  ‘Oh.’ There was so much I wanted to say. How I didn’t want him to go away. How I was scared of what might happen to him if he didn’t. How just the sound of his voice made my stomach twist into knots.

  ‘So I’m going to find my dad,’ Theo said.

  What?

  ‘But . . . but you don’t know where he is,’ I stammered.

  ‘I know.’ Theo sighed again. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m planning to go tomorrow morning, after register. I’ll go out over the wall at the back of school. I’ve done it before. If I’m not seen, I should have a few hours before anyone realises I’ve gone. But I need your help.’

  ‘How? What?’

  ‘I need you to go through your dad’s stuff tonight. We know there isn’t anything on the laptop apart from that email. And you said he’d got rid of his secret phone. But your dad has a PC too, doesn’t he? And paper files? Maybe you could find something else about James Lawson there. Something that might help me work out where he is now.’

  A million objections flooded into my head. If I was caught I’d be in massive trouble. Plus there was no way I could access the deleted files on Dad’s hard drive. Not without Max’s help. And I didn’t even know where the key was for his filing cabinet.

  ‘I’m going to go through my mum’s paper stuff tonight,’ Theo said. ‘See what I can find. She said there wasn’t anything. But maybe there’s something she’s forgotten she kept.’

  He sounded desperate and my heart went out to him. But what he was suggesting – both the looking for information and the running away – was madness.

  ‘Why don’t you think about it for a bit?’ I stammered. ‘Maybe in the—’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t you understand? RAGE are going to . . . to . . .’ He tailed off.

  I gulped. ‘I do understand,’ I said. ‘But my dad’s away at some conference in Germany this week. That’s why that email says: when you’re back from your trip. And . . . and there’s that other bit about them moving at the weekend. It doesn’t sound like they’re coming after you now. You’ve got a few days to plan this through. Don’t you see?’

  There was silence on the other end of the phone.

  ‘Theo?’ I said.

  ‘When’s your dad back exactly?’ Theo said.

  ‘Saturday morning,’ I said. An idea began to swim up through my mind. ‘You know it’s going to take me a few days to go through all my dad’s stuff as well.’ I stood up and paced across the room. ‘I mean he’s got loads of paper files and I won’t get a chance
to look at them until Mum’s gone to sleep.’ I leaned against my bedroom wall and looked out of the window. It was raining and the street lamp outside was flickering.

  I don’t want you to go away.

  ‘Okay,’ Theo said slowly. ‘I guess a few days won’t make any difference. It’ll give me more time too. I’ve got to get all my money out of this building society account Mum set up for me. I’ve got a card and stuff – she gave it to me for emergencies, like if anything happened to her. But you can only take small amounts out a day. And I’m going to need as much as I can get.’

  ‘I’ll get you some money too,’ I said quickly. ‘You can have my allowance. I’ve been saving it up for months.’

  ‘Um . . . No. I couldn’t do that.’ He sounded embarrassed.

  ‘Yes you could. I’ll meet you on Friday. After school.’ I took a deep breath. ‘In fact, that gives me another idea.’ I was lying, of course. This was where I’d been heading all along. ‘It’s my school disco on Friday. You could come with me.’

  There. I’d said it. I’d asked him.

  ‘How does that help me get away from here?’ Theo sounded confused.

  ‘It goes on for three hours. You could come. Stay for half an hour. It’ll be really crowded, so Roy won’t be able to watch you all the time. There’s this way out the back. I could show you. And the school’s right next to the station. If we time it right you’d be on a train before Roy even realises you’ve gone.’

  ‘Well,’ Theo said slowly. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Don’t you see? It’ll be dark – that’ll help you get away. And there’s less chance of anyone spotting you leaving. In fact, apart from Roy, why would anyone care if you did? No one at my school knows who you are.’

  My heart was thumping. Everything I said was true. And yet it was all based on a lie. I wanted Theo to come to the disco to show Jemima and her friends we were together. I chewed on my lip, feeling guilty. Still, once I saw him face to face I’d be able to talk to him. Show him that running away and trying to find his dad was hopeless. And dangerous.

  ‘Okay,’ Theo said. ‘What time does it start?’

  23

  Theo

  ‘You’re going to her school disco?’ Jake said, enviously, the next day. ‘At a girls’ school? Can’t I come too?’

  ‘No.’ I sounded angrier than I meant to. The wait was getting to me. Plus I was tired. I’d spent half the night rummaging through three huge cardboard boxes of Mum’s that I’d lugged out of our living-room cupboard.

  Jake slunk off to our next class without me.

  I shoved my hands in my pocket and pulled out the leaflet I’d found halfway down the third box. It was a little brochure for the Assisted Conception and Research Centre. It didn’t tell me much more than the original newspaper article had – just some stuff about how high their IVF success rate was and loads of bull on the owner: the Gene Genie himself, Elijah Lazio. It didn’t mention James Lawson.

  The only other information I’d found was a bundle of newspaper cuttings about Lazio’s cloning claims. None of these were connected to either James Lawson or the fertility clinic.

  I’d tried talking to Mum again. It was hopeless. She refused to discuss any aspect of my early life or my dad.

  ‘I would never have told you he was alive if I thought you’d keep pestering me for information like this,’ she said. ‘You have to be patient, Theodore. One day your dad will be able to see you, but not yet.’

  ‘Does he know I know about him?’ I said.

  Mum rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not talking about it.’

  ‘Okay.’ I ran my hand through my hair. ‘Just tell me if he’s still working. You know, at a clinic. Doing his research stuff.’

  Mum smiled at me. ‘He’d rather be dead than not working.’

  ‘So he’s at a clinic, then?’

  ‘Theodore, I’ve told you . . .’

  ‘Just tell me which country, Mum.’ I stared at her, trying to look as appealing as possible. ‘Please. Then I promise I’ll stop asking questions.’

  Mum sighed.

  ‘Come on, Mum,’ I pleaded. ‘If I knew even roughly where he was it would help me to deal with all this. Please.’

  She stared at me. ‘He’s in Germany,’ she said flatly. ‘Okay?’

  I stared at her, my heart pounding. Hadn’t Rachel said her dad was at a conference in Germany? Surely that couldn’t be a coincidence. Maybe he was on my dad’s trail. A thrill of excitement shot through me. Now I had a plan. Some direction. I’d find out which town Mr Smith had gone to. Take the train there. Eurostar to Brussels. Then change to get to Germany. Then I’d just go round all the fertility and genetic research clinics in whatever town it was until I found Dad.

  I rushed upstairs to my room and dug out the photograph – the only picture I had of him. He was wearing a white, open-necked shirt and smiling. I stared at his face. His hair was dark and short and he had a dimple in his chin. I looked up in the mirror. I touched my own chin. No dimple. I’d always wished I looked more like him. But now it didn’t matter. We had more important things in common.

  The need to find him, to know him, was like this heavy weight in my chest. I felt a stab of anger at the people behind RAGE – especially Rachel’s dad and that Lewis Michael guy. They had tried to kill Dad twice, forcing him to live apart from me and Mum. What had Mum said? He sees himself as a soldier, though not in any conventional army. Well I was going to be a soldier too. Fighting against RAGE’s bigotry.

  Fighting side by side with my dad.

  24

  Rachel

  If I hadn’t been so wound up about it myself, it would have made me laugh. Everyone at school was making out the school disco was going to be totally stupid. Yet by Wednesday lunchtime it was all anyone was talking about. Jemima kept on with these references to me and Theo all day. I knew what she was doing. She was making sure no one forgot I’d said I had a boyfriend, so that when he didn’t turn up she could totally humiliate me.

  On Wednesday evening Theo called to find out where my dad was in Germany. I told him: Cologne. Theo seemed to think that his dad was there too, working undercover in some genetic research clinic. He was more determined to run off than ever. Nothing I said made any difference.

  I told myself it didn’t matter, that I’d be able to convince him not to go, once we were face to face.

  I spent the rest of the evening trying on clothes. Then Thursday evening trying them all on again. It was useless. I looked like a big blob in everything. In the end I decided to wear this knee-length blue skirt I’d had for a while. My bum was just too massive for trousers. I tried on every single top I owned with it. The only one I felt comfortable in was this big white smocky thing that covered me up completely.

  Unfortunately, it made me look like a tent. No way could I wear it.

  I still hadn’t chosen a replacement by six-thirty p.m. on Friday evening. Every centimetre of my bedroom carpet was covered with clothes. I was starting to panic. I was supposed to be meeting Theo outside my school at seven o’clock and I needed to allow ten minutes at least to walk up there.

  I shut my eyes and reached round on the carpet. Please, please, let there be something here that I can wear.

  My fingers clutched at something silky. I opened my eyes. It was a black blouse. Short-sleeved, with buttons up the front. I pulled it on and turned to face the mirror. The shirt was fairly loose, though shaped in a little at the waist. At least it covered up the top of my stomach. I checked the time. 6.38 p.m. It would have to do.

  I sped into the bathroom and cleaned my teeth. How had I left so little time for my make-up and hair?

  I smeared on some eyeshadow, then carefully slid Mum’s La Prairie mascara out of her make-up basket. She hates me borrowing her make-up – but it’s good stuff. All designer. And I needed all the help I could get.

  I stroked on some mascara, then placed the tube back exactly where I’d found it. I dabbed some of Mum’s powder over my nose.


  My face stared back at me from the mirror – anxious and ugly.

  6.46.

  I noticed a little arrow-shaped diamante hairgrip beside the sink and rammed it into the side of my hair. I tucked my hair over it, so the glittery bit didn’t show up so much.

  6.47.

  I had to go.

  I ran out of the bathroom and back to my bedroom. I grabbed the money I’d got out of my account the day before. I was still intending to talk Theo out of his mad attempt to find his dad, but I wanted him to know I’d meant what I’d said about giving him money.

  I turned to leave. Then noticed my bare feet.

  Oh, God.

  Shoes.

  I pounded over to my wardrobe. Trainers. Slippers. School shoes. Flat sandals. No, no, no and no.

  I bent down and started hauling shoes over my shoulder, desperately trying to find something that would look nice.

  6.51.

  Suppose Theo got there before I did. Suppose Jemima saw him and started talking to him.

  I pulled out a pair of black high-heels that Mum had bought me a few months ago. ‘Elegant shoes,’ she’d said. ‘For special occasions.’

  They were a bit grown-up at the front, but the heels were high and thin. I shoved them on my feet and stood up. I wasn’t used to being three inches taller than normal. I walked across the clothes still strewn over the floor, onto the landing.

  6.52.

  I knew I was walking awkwardly, but there was no time to change the shoes. I took a deep breath and tottered downstairs, holding on to the stair rail to steady myself.

  Mum was waiting in the hallway as I reached the front door.

  I grabbed my coat and glanced up at her. ‘See you later.’

  ‘Have a nice time,’ she said. She paused, her eyes flickering up and down my outfit.

  How do I look?

  I should have just gone, but I hesitated, really wanting her to say something encouraging about my appearance.

  ‘Very nice.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Though a bit shop-girlish. I thought you . . .’

  But I didn’t wait to hear what she thought. I tore through the front door and up the road, walking as fast as my heels would let me, sniffing back the tears that threatened to smear mascara all down my cheek.