‘I … I don’t quite understand,’ she said eventually, when even Tilly had finally stopped talking and the silence seemed to reverberate around the park. ‘Did we do something wrong?’
Watching her carefully, Gideon shook his head. Cast in shadow, he looked paler and more jaded than ever, and Janey felt her heart twist for him. Whatever he was going through – whatever this condition was – it was obviously causing him a great deal of anguish.
‘Nothing wrong at all,’ he said. ‘Everything right, in fact.’
‘But we didn’t get the ring,’ cried Jack, his muzzle wrinkling. ‘She did.’
And he pointed at Matilda Peppercorn.
‘Who’s she? The cat’s mother?’ said Tilly and G-Mamma together. It was something Janey had heard her parents say, too, if someone didn’t use another’s name properly.
Jack shuffled uncomfortably, aware of his rudeness, as G-Mamma and Tilly sized each other up.
Then, once again, Matilda Peppercorn laughed. ‘Actually he’s right. Well, not the mother part. But the cat bit, definitely.’
Gideon smiled slowly. ‘You might call her a cat burglar.’
‘And seeing as you’re a dog, Freaky McFreakerson,’ the girl said, staring pointedly at Jack’s furred ears, ‘I reckon you and I are destined to be enemies.’
‘No. You need to get along,’ said Gideon with a frown.
‘Frenemies, then.’ Tilly smiled at Jack, but it suddenly looked much more as though she was baring her teeth at him. ‘Like I said.’
‘Some cats worship me,’ said Jack huffily.
‘Yeah, not this one.’
‘Please.’ Filled with pain and a note of irritation, Gideon’s voice cut across their bickering. ‘Please at least try to get along. That was what tonight was about, seeing if you could work together. And you did it so perfectly – GM on standby, Jack with your excellent schmoozing, and Matilda grabbing the ring from Simone Varley’s finger. That was superb.’
‘Yes, how did you do that?’ said Janey, intrigued. ‘You hypnotised everyone.’
‘Apart from you,’ replied Tilly. ‘And it wasn’t hypnosis. More like a spell.’
‘But … I’m sorry, but what kind of cat are you?’
Tilly screwed up her nose thoughtfully, and for the first time Janey could see that, when she wasn’t being snippy with Jack, she could actually be quite … well, normal. Ish.
‘It’s kind of complicated,’ said Tilly at length. ‘I’m all sorts of cat and a little bit witchy, and sort of a legend. But mostly I’m a girl.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ sniffed Jack, but Janey laid a hand on his arm.
‘So Matilda Peppercorn is another part of your team?’ she asked Gideon directly.
He glanced from Tilly to Jack. ‘Yes. If these two can bury their differences. No, not bury – bad choice of words. If they can learn to get along.’
‘I’m sure they can,’ she said. ‘Can’t you?’
She wasn’t even sure why it was important to her that they did get along, but her spy instincts were bubbling like a geyser. They’d been selected for a mission. They’d been hand-picked by someone who believed in them, and now he’d trialled them by getting them to lift the ring directly from Mrs Varley’s hand, and somehow … he was pleased. It was working.
And for Jane Blonde, it was … fun. More excitement than she’d had in forever, and she was sure it was the same for Jack and G-Mamma. Tilly looked as though she’d find the fun in almost anything, and then turn it into mischief. Still, there was no doubting that she had something special – and if they could all pull together there was no saying what they’d be able to achieve …
‘The ring,’ she said to Gideon. ‘Did you actually want it, or was that just a test for us?’
Gideon stared at her in surprise. ‘No, I really want it. Of course I want it.’
‘Oh! Here you go,’ said Tilly, fishing it out of her pocket. ‘I’m not big on jewellery anyway. It’s not allowed in kick-boxing in case you scratch someone and get an unfair advantage.’
‘You’re a cat, apparently,’ said Jack. ‘How is that not an unfair scratchy advantage?’
‘Only some of the time, your dogness. You should try it. Can you take that big dopey head off whenever you like, or are you stuck like that?’
‘You’re so mean,’ retorted Jack in a feeble little voice.
‘Sticks and stones,’ Tilly replied brightly.
And she held the ring out to Gideon as she and Jack glared at each other.
To Janey’s amazement, Gideon recoiled. ‘No!’ he shouted abruptly.
Taken aback by the violence of his reaction, they all stared at him.
‘No – I can’t … I don’t want to touch it. It’s cursed.’
Or he couldn’t touch it because it would hurt him to do so. Janey wondered if this was the problem, but actually it didn’t look as though it was the same issue, this time. He was staring at the ring with revulsion, as if he hated it from the bottom of his heart.
‘It’s cursed?’ Matilda Peppercorn rolled her eyes. ‘Well, you might have told me! I might have put it on and subjected myself to cursiness.’
‘Not traditionally cursed,’ said Gideon. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his wide-legged trousers, scowling. ‘But it was taken from an Indian holy man, and bad things happen around it.’
‘And you took it so they’d stop happening?’ asked Janey hopefully.
‘Something like that.’
For long moments, they all stared at the ring balanced on the end of Matilda’s startlingly long fingernail. It didn’t look evil – more like the kind of cheap ornament usually found in a Christmas cracker – but it was quite evident that Gideon Flynn had no intention of going anywhere near it.
He shook himself out of his torpor as Simone Varley had shaken off her spell-like state. ‘It needs to be kept safe.’ His eyes turned to Janey. ‘Could you hide it at your laboratory?’
‘Of course.’
She reached out her Girl Gauntlet, and Tilly slid the ring onto her outstretched palm.
Then Gideon Flynn nodded towards the distant wall backing onto the Varley’s house. ‘They’ll be here soon. We’d better all disappear. Thank you, everyone. I’ll be in touch soon.’
Jack was calming down, now that he was no longer in immediate danger and Tilly had stopped needling him. As he shrunk back to normal teenager size, he held up a finger.
‘Ahem, I don’t like to be mercenary, but …’
‘But you are a mercenary,’ said Gideon with a quick grin. His smile was extraordinary: a full upward curve that flashed across his face and then disappeared just as quickly, as if it had been sucked back into his mouth. It was as if he wasn’t accustomed to using it. ‘You’re a paid soldier, Jack. Don’t worry; I’ve put a large deposit in your account. The same for the rest of you,’ he said, nodding to G-Mamma and Matilda. ‘Your help and loyalty are not going to go unrewarded.’
‘Great, because I need a new kick-boxing helmet – like - immediately! Right, well, I’m off. Nice to meet you all. Mostly,’ said Tilly with a wink, and then to their astonishment, she reached behind a tree, pulled out a long, knobbly branch with a raft of twigs at one end, and stepped on it. ‘Home, Bronco, you brave little besom, you.’
The branch rose into the air with Matilda Peppercorn standing on its back and shot away above the treeline.
‘Not bad,’ said Jack reluctantly. ‘Hypno spells, stealing stuff right from under the owner’s nose, flying away on a broomstick. I’ve met some weird people - and some of them weren’t even people – but she’s about the weirdest. I suppose it’s a little bit amazing.’
Janey nudged him. ‘What you do is amazing, too. All of it.’
‘I’m blushing, though you can’t see it,’ muttered Jack.
He was calmer now, and his dog features were softening.
‘Would you zap G-Mamma home?’ Janey asked quickly, before he changed back completely. Her spy instincts and spy-b
uys were calling her in more ways than one. ‘I feel like a run.’ It was many miles, but she’d cover it in a very short space of time.
‘Don’t wear those Fleet-Feet out, Girly-Girl,’ said G-Mamma, lining up beside Jack. ‘I don’t know how long these new ones last.’
‘I’ll be careful.’
They disappeared, and Janey turned slowly. It was more than just wanting to feel the fields vanish beneath her soles as she flitted across the earth. She was suddenly very aware that she was alone, now, with Gideon Flynn. He hadn’t emerged any further from the shadows, but she knew that he was watching her with his usual intensity.
‘She isn’t the ring’s owner, you know.’ Gideon’s face sharpened again. ‘She never was. She’s just the … user.’
Janey nodded. ‘And that’s why you wanted it back – because it’s yours?’
His dark eyelashes fluttered as if he was remembering something. ‘More because of what it does.’
‘It’s a ring,’ said Janey. ‘What does it do?’
‘You’ll find out when it’s time,’ said Gideon solemnly. Then he glared at her, as if daring her to ask any more.
But Janey was used to objects that were more than they seemed, and people with agendas that weren’t exactly like her own. Somehow she knew that he was telling the truth. When she needed to know what this evening had been about, he’d tell them.
Right now, though, there was something else she wanted to clear up.
‘I wanted to ask you something,’ she said.
He looked a little nervous at that, but finally he shrugged. ‘Go ahead.’
‘You didn’t mention me,’ she said, aware that she sounded sulky. ‘G-Mamma was on standby, you said, and Jack did the schmoozing and Tilly … cat burgled. But what did I do? Why did you even need me on the team tonight?’
His bitter-chocolate eyes blinked as if he didn’t understand the question, but then he laughed gently. ‘I hadn’t realised you didn’t know,’ he said.
‘Know what?’
‘You ran it. You ran the heist, Jane Blonde.’ Gideon Flynn pointed at the ring, which now sat on top of her Girl Gauntlet, on her little finger. ‘That’s why I didn’t just introduce you to Tilly first, in case you let her take over. She’s a strong character, but so are you. You were in charge.’
In charge? But that couldn’t be right. Janey stared at the ring herself, trying to work it out. G-Mamma was always in charge – or perhaps it was Gideon himself, who had sent them on their mission in the first place. It couldn’t be her, Jane Blon-Brown. Surely not her …
As she looked up to ask him more, there was a hefty rattle of the gate behind her. The guards had made their way to the back of the house. ‘I’d better go,’ she said, but when she peered more closely, she could no longer find him in the darkness. He was gone again, slithering back into the blackness like a startled fox.
With a sigh, Janey pushed the ring more firmly onto her gloved hand. Like the sprinters who would be running at the World Community Games, she leaned back and banged her heel into the ground. She was running. Running and free. And somehow – in charge.
As she vaulted the wall into a neighbouring garden, it was almost as if she was jumping for joy. She sped home through quiet streets and across playgrounds, keeping to the shadows so she wouldn’t be seen, feelings of power and excitement raging through her. In no time, she was Fleet-Footing along her own street.
Knowing that G-Mamma wouldn’t object to her sneaking into the Spylab, she crept up to her room, slithered through the fireplace tunnel and considered somewhere safe to keep the jewellery. That was what Gideon Flynn had entrusted her with – keeping the ring safe and running the mission. She’d been in charge! It was still hard to believe that she’d been slotted into such an important position right from the off set, but the more she thought about it, the more she realised it was probably true. Who was the one figuring out what to do? She was. Who had suggested all the next moves? She had. Even G-Mamma had just stayed out of the way, keeping things orderly – or rather, chaotic and paint-covered – in the background.
And now she was taking charge again, responsibly stashing the ring in a safe spot. There were a few choices for hiding things in the Spylab (as it was a place for secret spy-buys, after all) but Janey dismissed them all after looking around for a while. Actually, she’d really enjoyed the notion of hiding things in plain sight, and where could she stow a gaudy, oversized ring that looked like a child’s toy?
Right with the other chunky, oversized rings that looked like a child’s toys.
Removing an emerald-encrusted skull-and-crossbones knuckle-duster from the second rung of G-Mamma’s ring tree, she slid the ruby ring towards the centre, placed the skull-and-crossbones back in position, and chucked a bit of G-Mamma’s other jewellery around for good measure. It was almost buried behind a mountain of make-up, anyway, and she very much doubted whether anyone would dare to touch that without risking the mighty wrath of a large volatile spy.
Feeling strangely satisfied with the whole evening, Jane Blonder finally allowed herself to de-Wow and sidle off to her bed. Tomorrow was a whole new day – for a whole new spy.
Chapter 10 - A Mini Gift
Seeing the ring at such close quarters had unnerved him, it was true. The wretched thing had already caused such trouble that he could hardly bear to remember it at all. And now Simone was creating more mayhem with it.
Unbidden, a scene floated into his mind. It was the sitar player at the party his parents threw for his seventeenth birthday. He’d been thrilled, thinking the sitar was his gift - although a guitar would have been more practical - but he’d got that wrong. Gideon had been so ungracious, refusing to wear the peacock-blue silk band-master’s outfit his mother had sewn for him by hand, sulking that the others would laugh at him - even though he loved it so much, really. His heroes wore them, so why shouldn’t he? Well, because he wasn’t beloved by millions, of course. He wasn’t beloved by many at all.
Then the trick, the joke that wasn’t funny: that the ring on the sitar player’s finger was his actual gift, his birthday present. His father had researched it, bought it from Henry’s father at huge expense.
‘It’s a genuine ruby from Burma, like the one George wore,’ his father had whispered, talking about his favourite band member. ‘One day it will be worth a fortune. When your studies are done, and you wander far from home … well, the Indians believed it would protect you, so we’ll let it look after you when your mother and I are no longer able to.’
‘You’re not that old,’ Gideon said with a shake of his head, although he actually thought they were ancient. And a bit gullible. It was a wonderful present, but not for someone his age, and they’d probably mortgaged the house to buy it from Harry Wentworth, Henry’s dad. Just like his son, Harry could be very persuasive. Why couldn’t they have just bought him a car? A battered mini – that would have suited him down to the ground. They could all have squashed into it and blasted round the city, enjoying life.
And then it all went so wrong. The ruby wasn’t genuine at all – still valuable, after a fashion, because it was one of the original Geneva rubies that had been synthetically created back in 1885 (by melting powdered aluminium oxide and chromium oxide together, a detail that Gideon had spent far too much time researching). But it wasn’t worth what Mr Flynn had paid for it and they’d spent so, so much – so much on their only son, their pride and joy. Harry had refused to take it back or refund the money, and anyway, it was his birthday gift, so Gideon couldn’t complain, could he? If only they’d got him a Mini.
Because then he’d discovered what more could be done with a fake ruby.
It was then that the trouble really began.
Chapter 11 - The Silent Spike
Alfie seemed to take forever to get away from soccer practice after school. She’d promised to wait for him, and as she watched him take out the guy he was marking with a filthy tackle, she wished she could share all this with him. But then the
memories of the new team around her – this team of SWAG – filled her with such a sense of belonging that she cast the thought aside. She could keep it all to herself for now, and wait till she got home. G-Mamma would probably be desperate for a de-brief over a doughnut.
Luckily, although it was later than usual when she finally reached home, Janey’s parents were still busily beavering away in their design studio, out in the office at the bottom of the garden. She took them each a cup of tea just to be sure, then zipped through the house and into the lab next door.
‘Sorry!’ she cried, giggling as she realised how much she sounded like Jack – always apologising, ever polite, apart from where Matilda Peppercorn was concerned. ‘Just had to ply Mum and Dad with tea. They’ll be set for a couple of hours now. G-Mamma?’
She wasn’t here. The room was silent. Worryingly so. It didn’t have the appearance of a room that had been infiltrated – nothing was suspiciously out of place, or anything … apart from G-Mamma.
No, it wasn’t the look of the place that seemed odd. It was the quietness that was unusual. Everywhere G-Mamma went, even when she was spying, there was some accompanying sound: the tuneless humming of one of her lesser-known raps or Bigg Squid songs; the whirr of a smoothie machine as she puréed cakes and chocolate into a delicious shake, or the rhythmic purr of Trouble as she stroked his tummy with her foot and applied make-up to her face, or occasionally the cat’s.
Now there was nothing … nothing apart from a very, very faint rasping sound that could easily have been mistaken for the electronic hum of a fridge.
Except that their fridges were silent, especially the thing that looked most like a fridge – the Wower.
The noise was coming from there, though. Had Janey left the door open like that when she’d de-wowed the previous night? She didn’t think so, but there was no doubt that the Wower door was ajar, and the gentle rasping sound was echoing from the floor of the spy cabinet.
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