Anthony Horowitz - Necropolis

“I’m sorry I’ve had to wake you up,” she said. “The captain has put on the seat belt sign.”

I looked at my watch. We still had four more hours in the air. Richard and Jamie were asleep but I knew I wouldn’t be able to join them. I took out my notepad and started writing again.

Four hours until London.

Soon we will be home.

Scarlett thought she’d be safe, back at school. She’d slip back into the crowd and nobody would notice her. After all, nothing exciting ever happened at school. Wasn’t that the whole point? So, for the first time in her life, she found herself looking forward to the next Monday morning. There would be no bombs, no strange men in cars, no cryptic messages. She would be swallowed up by double maths and physics and everything would be all right.

But it didn’t happen that way.

Shortly before lunch, she was called into the headmistress’s office. There was no explanation, just a brief: “Mrs Ridgewell would like to see you at twelve fifteen.” Scarlett was nervous as she climbed the stairs. In a way, she’d been expecting trouble ever since the trip to St Meredith’s. She had been the centre of attention for far too long and for all the wrong reasons. Her work had gone rapidly downhill. She’d been told off twice for daydreaming in class. And then there had been that terrible maths test. The teachers had already decided that all the publicity had gone to her head and Scarlett fully expected Mrs Ridgewell to read her the riot act. Get your head down. Pull your socks up. That sort of thing.

But what the headmistress said came right out of the blue.

“Scarlett, I’m afraid you’re going to be leaving us for a few weeks. I’ve just had a phone call from your father. It seems that some sort of crisis has arisen…”

“What crisis?” Scarlett asked.

“He didn’t say. He was very mysterious, if you want the truth. But he wants you to join him immediately in Hong Kong. In fact, he’s already arranged the flight.”

There was a moment’s silence while Scarlett took this in. There were all sorts of questions that she wanted to ask, but she began with the most obvious. “Has this got something to do with what happened to me?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what?”

“He didn’t say.” Mrs Ridgewell sighed. She had taught at St Genevieve’s for more than twenty years and it showed. Her office was cluttered and a little shabby, with antique furniture and books everywhere. A Siamese cat – it was called Chaucer – lay asleep in a basket in a corner. “You haven’t had a very good term, have you Scarlett?”

“No.” Scarlett shook her head miserably. “I’m sorry, Mrs Ridgewell. I don’t know what’s going on, really. Everything seems to have gone wrong.”

“Well, maybe we should look on the bright side. A complete break for a few weeks might do you good. I’ll ask your teachers to prepare some work for while you’re out there – and, of course, we’re going to have to recast the Christmas play. I have to say that it is all very inconvenient.”

“Didn’t he say anything?”

“I’ve told you everything I know, I’m afraid. I thought he would have discussed it with you.”

“No. I haven’t heard from him.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. He told me he’d ring you tonight. So you’ve just got time to say goodbye to your friends.”

“When am I leaving?”

“Your flight is tomorrow.”

Tomorrow! Scarlett couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Tomorrow was only a few hours away. How could her dad have done this to her? He hadn’t mentioned anything when they were in the Italian restaurant. What crisis could possibly have arisen in less than a week?

Scarlett spent the rest of the day in a complete daze. Her friends were equally surprised, although the truth was that she was beginning to get a bit of a reputation. She was weird. First the church and now this. She didn’t even get to see Aidan. She looked for him on the way home and tried texting him, but he didn’t reply. Mrs Murdoch had already heard the news. She had started packing by the time Scarlett got home. And she didn’t seem pleased.

“Not a word of warning,” she muttered. “And no explanation. What do you suppose I’m meant to do, sitting here on my own?”

Paul Adams rang that night as he had promised, but he didn’t tell Scarlett anything she wanted to know.

“I’m really sorry, Scarly…” His voice on the line was thin and very distant. “I didn’t want to do this to you. But things have happened… I don’t want to explain until I see you.”

“But you’ve got to tell me!” Scarlett protested. “Is Mum all right? Is it you?”

“We’re both fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s just that there are times when a family has to be together and this is one of them.”

“How long am I staying with you?”

“A couple of weeks. Maybe longer.”

“Why?” There was silence at the other end of the line. “Can’t you tell me anything?” Scarlett went on. “It’s not fair. It’s the middle of term and I’m going to miss the school play and all the parties and everything!”

“Look, I’m just going to have to ask you to trust me. You’ll be here in twenty-four hours and I want to explain everything to you face to face, not over the phone. Can you do that for me, Scarly? Just wait until you get out here… and try not to think too badly of me until you arrive.”

“All right.” What else could she say?

“I’ve booked you into business class, so at least you’ll be comfortable. Make sure you bring lots of books. It’s a long flight.”

He rang off. Scarlett stood there, holding the receiver. She was feeling resentful and she couldn’t stop herself. This wasn’t fair. She was being bundled onto a plane and flown to Hong Kong as if she were a parcel being sent by Fed-Ex. She was fifteen years old. Surely she should have some control over her own life?

The taxi came at midday. Scarlett’s flight was leaving Heathrow at half past three. Mrs Murdoch helped carry the cases out and load them into the back and the two of them got in together. The housekeeper was coming with her as far as the airport and would then return to the house alone. It was a grey, overcast day and the weather reflected Scarlett’s mood. She twisted round as they pulled away and watched the house disappear behind her. She knew she was only going to be abroad for a couple of weeks but even so she couldn’t escape a strange feeling. She wondered if she would ever see it again.

They reached the bottom of the street and were turning left into Half Moon Lane. And that was when it happened. A car crash. Scarlett only saw part of it and it was only later that she was able to piece together what had happened. A car had been driving towards them – it had just come from the main road – and a second car, a BMW, had suddenly pulled out in front of it. Scarlett heard the screech of tyres and the smash of impact and looked up in time to see the two cars ricocheting off each other, out of control. One of them had been forced off the road and was sliding down a private driveway. She could make out at least three people inside.

“London traffic!” The taxi driver sniffed. He completed the turn and they picked up speed.

Scarlett twisted round and looked out of the back – at the crumpled bonnet of one of the cars, steam rising into the air, glass scattered on the road. A bus had been forced to stop and the driver was climbing down, perhaps to see if he could help. The accident was already disappearing into the distance behind them and she supposed it was just a coincidence. It couldn’t mean anything.