it the next day. It would be light then, and those people probably would have gone out, and she’d probably see it straightaway. She had a vague recollection of seeing it lying on one of the cushions; whether that was from today or some other time, she couldn’t be sure. At any rate, it had to be there. And it wasn’t as if anyone was going to pinch it in the meantime.
But the thought of it worried and worried at her. It was all very well, to tell herself she’d find it more easily tomorrow. But she wanted it now. She wanted its smooth, comforting contours in her hand. She wanted its familiar weight in her pocket. And she wanted to get rid of the slither of fear in the back of her mind, which persisted however hard she tried to get rid of it; the niggling, panicking thought that she might perhaps have lost it for good.
‘I’m going out,’ she said at the sitting-room door, avoiding her parents’ surprised looks; trying to sound as if this was just confirmation of something they should have known already.
‘At this time?’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m meeting some people from school. In McDonald’s. Just for a milkshake.’ She paused. ‘Like I used to with Genevieve,’ she added, in a pathetic voice. She saw her mother give what was supposed to be a secret look to her father, then turn round and beam at Alice.
‘That sounds lovely,’ she said. ‘Do I know them?’
‘No,’ said Alice vaguely. She fingered the door frame. ‘So I’ll see you later,’ she said.
‘Yes. Be back by eleven, won’t you?’
‘Do you need some money?’ added her father, feeling for his wallet.
‘Do you want a lift?’ Her mother sat up suddenly. ‘I’ll run you into town, if you like.’
‘No. No!’ Alice’s voice came roaring out. ‘Thanks,’ she added. She could feel her face turning pink. Why were they being so nice all of a sudden?
When she got to Russell Street, number twelve was lit up from the inside. The curtains were drawn and, as she crept cautiously over the grass towards the garage, she could hear music playing in the sitting-room. She edged down the side of the house, quietly pushed open the garage door and walked confidently into the blackness. She knew the garage so well, by now, she could have walked straight to her pile of cushions and sat down without opening her eyes.
Which was why the howl she gave when, a couple of seconds later, she tripped awkwardly over an anonymous bicycle lurking in the darkness, was as much from affront as it was from pain. For a few moments, the sheer outrage of being taken by surprise like that prevented her from moving. She sat helplessly, tangled beneath the unforgiving metal shape, until it fell further down on top of her, bashing her shin and causing her to yelp. Suddenly she was filled with a panicked claustrophobia. She began to struggle furiously with the bicycle, trying to work out which way it went; grunting with annoyance as she reached for what she thought must be the handlebars only to find her hand falling on a softly spinning wheel. If only she had a torch; if only she’d waited until it was light; if only—
‘Hello there.’ A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. Alice jumped in genuine terror, and then gasped as one of the bicycle’s brakes went sharply into her ribs. For a moment she considered freezing; if she played dead perhaps whoever it was would go away. Like grizzly bears. ‘I wouldn’t bother if I were you,’ the voice continued, in ironical tones. ‘It’s not worth very much.’
‘What?’ Alice turned round in a fury of indignation. ‘Do you think I’m trying to steal it?’
The door of the garage was open, and a silhouette was standing just outside. Alice couldn’t see his face, but she had an uncomfortable feeling that he might be able to see hers.
‘I’m not a thief,’ she added for emphasis.
‘Oh really?’ Alice felt herself blushing red; her bravado was about to slip away. She had to admit to herself, she must look a bit weird.
‘I’m just getting something,’ she said, looking away. ‘I used to live here.’
‘Aha.’
‘I did!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m Alice Chambers. I used to live here. Ask anyone.’
Suddenly a torch flashed on, and wavered over her face. She screwed up her eyes and gave another push at the bike.
‘Oh dear.’ The voice was amused. ‘You are in a bit of a state, aren’t