Lone Wolf - Robert Muchamore Page 0,63

said.

The trio took a couple of minutes to load up the van and, it being high summer, first light was breaking over the surrounding houses as they pulled out of the club car park. Ning drove a mile before pulling up in front of a row of shops. She and Fay took their crash helmets off for the first time in close to five hours.

Warren pulled off his balaclava and laughed as he saw the girls’ sweaty, tangled hair.

‘It’s not a good look,’ Warren teased, as he moved in and kissed Fay’s reddened cheek. ‘But the raid was bloody awesome!’

Ning was irritated by Warren and Fay’s relationship, and became all-out hostile when the pecking turned to a full-on snog.

‘Pack it in,’ Ning moaned, as she put the van back in gear. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, we’re still on Hagar’s turf and the cops will pull us over if they see three teenagers driving a van at four in the morning.’

‘Mum’s right,’ Fay said, as she palmed Warren away.

The tatty van wasn’t a civilised ride and Ning crunched gears as she pulled off.

‘I’d better call Shawn and let him know we’ve got some stuff for his boss,’ Fay said.

But Shawn must have switched phones because the number Fay had was dead. She ended up calling one of Eli’s street dealers, who gave out an up-to-date number after a lot of arm twisting.

Ning could only hear Fay’s half of the conversation from the driving seat, but Eli’s lieutenant clearly wasn’t enthusiastic about a 4 a.m. call.

‘Yes I do know what time it is,’ Fay said cheerfully. ‘But I’ve got news. Good news! Right now I’m riding in a van, stuffed with Hagar’s entire cannabis crop. I’m looking for a quick sale and I’ve trashed Hagar’s grow house at no extra charge.’

Fay paused while Shawn said something. Her face sank and her next sentence sounded wary.

‘OK, I guess . . . You’ve got my number. I’ll wait for your call.’

‘Problem?’ Ning asked, as Fay pocketed her phone.

Fay shrugged. ‘I expected him to be more enthusiastic. He’s gonna call me back after he’s spoken to Eli.’

‘Who’s gonna be enthusiastic at four in the morning?’ Warren pointed out.

‘So where am I driving?’ Ning asked.

‘It’s too risky leaving the van in town,’ Fay said. ‘Warren wants to be dropped off, then we can drive the van up to the allotments.’

33. CALLS

Two days after the raid on the grow house, Ning woke up on an airbed in the allotment shed. She sat up, eyeing a bluebottle crawling up the inside of a dirty window and the striped van parked next to a compost mound at the bottom of their plot.

Ning’s knee clicked as she stood up. She thought about making a hot drink on Fay’s little gas stove, but went for a little bottle of Tropicana orange, which floated in an enamel bowl to stay cool. She needed the toilet, which meant trudging over several hundred metres of dirt and gravel to a smelly shed, where you could hear your waste drop into a big composting tank below.

After pulling on leggings, wellies and a striped T-shirt, Ning made the toilet trek and bumped into a stern-looking Fay on the way back.

‘Morning,’ Ning said.

‘My phone’s hit-and-miss on the allotments, so I walked up to the street to get a better signal,’ Fay said grumpily. ‘There’s still no text or anything from Shawn and his phone’s dead when I try to call.’

‘Probably switched it again,’ Ning said.

‘It’s been two whole days,’ Fay said. ‘What’s he playing at?’

‘Stay cool,’ Ning said. ‘You’re selling, he’s buying. He probably doesn’t want to seem too keen. I bet he’ll make out like he’s already got tons of cannabis and try to screw us on the price.’

‘And I saw that lady from plot twelve, the one who gave us the nice strawberries. She made some comment about how I always seem to be around. I think she knows I’m living on site.’

Ning nodded. ‘You can’t keep staying here full time. I’ll sneak you in at Nebraska House. I need to go back for a proper shower and clean clothes anyway.’

‘I don’t like leaving the van,’ Fay said.

‘You need to take your mind off stuff,’ Ning said. ‘We can go see a movie or something.’

Fay’s face turned sour. ‘I’m waiting on Shawn. How can I sit in a bloody cinema with my phone switched off?’ she growled, as she pointed at the van.

‘All I’m saying is, worrying won’t get you anywhere.’

‘You stating the bloody