The Time Bubble Box Set 2, стр. 296

the New Year in London with Rachel but my mother had insisted on mestaying at home, saying I could go next year when I was eighteen. This was theproblem with being the younger sibling. It always seemed that the older one gotto have all the fun.

Saying I could go when I was eighteen felt rather harsh atthe time, seeing as I was just one day short of that milestone but I hadreluctantly agreed with my mother promising to arrange a party to celebrate mybirthday.

My first thought now was that I could tell Rachel at theparty. It could wait another day, but then I noticed a return slip from a partyinvite pinned to the fridge by a magnet from Tenby. It clearly stated the dateof the party as Saturday 3rd January 2004.

Of course, I remembered now. It had been decided not to havethe party on New Year’s Day for the same reason that I had been coming upagainst all my life. No one wanted to party on 1st January with their hangoversfrom the night before. Rachel had definitely been at the party: she had beenback from London by then, but that was no good to me now as I would be gone bythen.

This was frustrating. Why was nothing ever simple? There wasnothing else for it: I was going to have to defy my mother and go to London. Iwasn’t enjoying, as someone used to adult independence, that I could orcouldn’t do something, and it was only going to get worse. What would it belike when I was six or seven and I was being told to eat my greens and to go tobed at half past seven?

Thankfully, at seventeen I still had enough power to make myown decisions. I just hoped I could get enough money together to get myselfdown to London.

Getting to London was only half the battle: I still had tofind Rachel when I got there. Fortunately I still had a mobile phone, even ifit was only a basic Nokia. I could text her.

I had no idea who she was with or what she was doing: thosedetails were lost in the mists of time. Whoever it was, I can’t imagine she wasgoing to be particularly enamoured with her little sister gatecrashing theparty, but tough – her life depended on it. She would thank me one day, even ifI wasn’t going to be around to hear it.

I went upstairs, pretending to get ready for work, andtexted Rachel. If I was expecting an immediate response, I was to bedisappointed. Wherever she was, she was probably still asleep. It was only justafter 8am after all.

Opening my wardrobe, I found an impossibly small uniformfrom the café that I couldn’t believe I could possibly fit me, but it slid oneasily with room to spare. I was getting smaller and slimmer by the year, andmy slender frame was barely that of a woman now.

I may have had no intention of going to work, but I wantedmy mother to think everything was normal. I really didn’t want to have to getinto a round of explanations with her, not after my previous attempts.

Everything went smoothly until after I left the house andreached the cashpoint. Then I realised I had a problem. Thumbing through yetanother new wallet, I discovered that my bank card had changed. No longer was Iwith HSBC. My card was now from Barclays. Worse still, when I tried to put myPIN number in, it wouldn’t accept it.

Once again, long-forgotten memories came flooding back. Ihad changed my bank account in my late-teens after running into some overdraftproblems as a student and parting company with Barclays on acrimonious terms.Now I was back with them, I couldn’t for the life of me remember my PIN.

Frantically I searched through my wallet and purse in whichI kept my loose coins. I had the grand total of £3.57 on me and that wasn’tgoing to get me to London, not even at 2003 prices. I was going to have to getsome money from somewhere else.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. I didn’t feelgood about what I was about to do, but I had done worse things. This was hardlyon the same scale as causing Gary’s death, and besides, it was going to save alife, not end one. That was all the justification I needed.

I took the short walk back to the house. My mother wassurprised to see me, but I explained I had forgotten my purse and pretended togo upstairs. While she busied herself in the kitchen, I helped myself to fiftyquid out of her wallet which was in her handbag, conveniently hanging on thehatstand close to the front door.

“Sorry, Mum,” I murmured to myself, “but it’s all in a goodcause.”

As long as I kept telling myself that, it would all be good.I had never stolen off my parents in my life – or anyone, come to that. Thiswas most definitely a one-off.

Funding in place, I headed straight for the train station.Twice more I tried to ring Rachel on the way, and both times it went straightto voicemail. What was she doing? She had better have her phone on her as therewas no way I was going to be able to track her down otherwise. I would justhave to text her again.

Rachel, why aren’t you answering your phone? I need tospeak to you urgently.

That ought to do it. It was sufficiently vague to hopefullyworry her or at least pique her curiosity enough to contact me. That’s assumingshe ever got around to looking at her phone.

At the train station, I popped into WHSmith and bought anotebook and a pen. I had left in such a hurry that I hadn’t had time to putinto place a vital part of my plan.

Thankfully, the train was not too busy so I was able to finda place with a seat, even if it wasn’t the most appetising spot. Someone hadleft an apple core on the seat and there were crumbs all over the table but itwould have to do. As soon as the train was in motion,