a load of them out, I got some others in second-hand shops and on Ebay. So pick a tune then, let’s see what kind of taste you’ve got.’
Most of the records were in plain sleeves, so you had to slide them out and read the song titles through the hole in the middle. While James flipped through, trying to find something he recognised, Hannah swapped her school skirt and blouse for a T-shirt and cargo shorts. He wasn’t bold enough to stare, but he liked what he glimpsed out of the corner of his eye.
‘OK,’ James said, pulling a single out of its sleeve and lifting up the top of the record player. He realised he’d never put a vinyl record on before.
‘It’s automatic,’ Hannah explained.
She laid the disc on the platter and pushed the button that made the arm swing out and drop down on to the vinyl. After a few crackles and pops, the theme tune from The Monkees broke out.
‘Oh cool,’ Hannah giggled. ‘Good choice.’
‘I used to watch The Monkees on satellite when I was little,’ James grinned.
Hannah stood barefoot on her rug, jiggling to the song. ‘Yeah, me too,’ she nodded.
*
They sat on Hannah’s bed for more than an hour, listening to old tunes and talking about stuff. Hannah acted cheerful, but James sensed sadness beneath the surface. She was a fish out of water at her posh school, she had major hassles with her dad and her best friend now spent nearly all of her spare time looking after her nan.
They had their first proper snog, but Hannah abruptly decided that she was hungry when James tried to sneak a hand down the back of her shorts for a feel of her bum.
James trailed her into the kitchen, straightening up his crumpled clothes with a look of disappointment that was probably visible from outer space.
‘Why the sour face?’ Hannah asked, as she laid fish fingers under a hot grill.
‘Oh,’ James said listlessly, sitting with his elbows on the dining table and his cheeks resting in his palms. ‘Nothing.’
Hannah turned and gave James a smile that made him realise he was falling for her. The CHERUB training manual has a whole chapter on the dangers of forming close attachments to people you meet on undercover missions, but this was still the thing about being a cherub that James had the most difficulty with. When this mission ended, the attractive fourteen-year-old girl who was making his lunch and grinning at him would be confined to memory and he’d be back on campus facing life as a social outcast.
‘Don’t think about it,’ James mumbled.
‘You what?’ Hannah said.
James snapped out of deep thought and realised he’d said something he’d only meant to think. ‘I’m tired,’ James said sharply, by way of explanation. ‘Me and Dave were up until three a.m. on the Playstation.’
‘It must be so cool living without parents. Mine are such dicks.’
James nodded. ‘I guess, but we’ve got sod-all money. And the social worker’s supposed to come in twice a week to see how I’m doing.’
‘You know, I was thinking about your flat. You should get some paint to brighten the place up.’
‘We got a furniture grant from the council. Dave’s gonna drive us up to Ikea when he gets the car fixed.’
‘Ikea,’ Hannah tutted. ‘That place is the worst of the lot.’
‘Well some of their stuff is dirt-cheap. And your parents might be dicks, but they’ve kept you in nice clothes and fancy stuff for your room that me and Dave couldn’t afford.’
‘I know,’ Hannah said, as she pulled out the grill and tried turning the fish fingers quickly, without burning her fingers. ‘I love my parents, James, of course. It’s just, after what happened to Will they’re so strict. They’re scared about me hanging with the local kids and getting involved with drugs and that.’
‘Do Will’s parents still live round here?’
Hannah shook her head. ‘My aunt and uncle couldn’t take it. They sold up and moved down to the coast.’
Hannah paused, then her face lit up. ‘Actually,’ she said, waggling her finger and grinning like mad.
‘What?’ James asked.
‘You just gave me an idea, James. When Auntie Shelley went, she didn’t want anything of Will’s. She threw out all of his stuff and I thought it was sad. So I went up there and rescued some of it. My dad’s got one of the lock-ups over the back. There’s bits of furniture, like Will’s desk and chair. I mean, it’s all sitting there gathering dust.’