Run, Zan, Run Read online

  ‘Nothing would surprise me about the police. Did you expect them to believe you? To help you? Ha! I bet you still believe in Santa Claus!’

  There was a bitterness in her voice that Katie just couldn’t understand. ‘What did the police do to you, Zan?’ she asked softly. But she knew she wouldn’t answer. She never answered any of Katie’s questions about her past. ‘Don’t ever ask,’ was all she would say.

  ‘Ta-Ra! There, how do I look?’

  Katie gasped as Zan began to strut about like a model on a catwalk, wearing Katie’s sweater and Katie’s shirt, with Katie’s anorak draped across one shoulder.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’

  What did she think? It was like looking into a mirror.

  ‘Why, Zan,’ she said at last. ‘You look exactly like me.’

  Her parents were at home. She saw their car as she turned into her street. Katie had her excuses for being out all ready. She had simply felt like a walk. It was a brisk November day and her parents, who loved walking and encouraged it, would understand that.

  It was only as she drew nearer to her own house that she noticed another car parked behind her parents’. A dark green Volvo, battered and old, like a tank. Menacing. The very look of it made Katie shiver.

  She hurried up the path to her house and opened the door.

  ‘Katie, is that you?’ her mother called.

  ‘I went for a walk, Mum.’

  ‘That’s OK, dear. Come in here. There’s someone wants to meet you.’

  There was a stranger sitting on the sofa beside her mother, a thin man in a dark green raincoat. He stood up as Katie came into the living-room and she was astounded at his length. His face was long and thin too, and his dark eyes were sunk deep into the sockets. She knew the old Volvo was his. It so resembled him. Menacing.

  He tried a smile, but only his mouth made it. His eyes stayed sombre, watching her closely.

  ‘This is Mr Whittaker, Katie,’ her mother said.

  ‘Hello.’ She sounded more nervous than she meant to.

  ‘Hello, Katie.’ His voice was very soft, and very low.

  It was her father who spoke next, watching closely for her reaction to his words. ‘Mr Whittaker’s a private detective, Katie. He’s come all the way from London.’ He paused, and Katie held her breath. ‘He’s looking for the girl in the cardboard box.’

  Chapter Eight

  ‘But I tell you there is no girl. I made her up.’

  Katie had been trying to convince her parents and this Mr Whittaker for the last half-hour. She had a feeling they still didn’t believe her.

  ‘I don’t mean her any harm, Katie.’ Mr Whittaker’s words flowed from his mouth like smooth chocolate. ‘You must believe that.’

  Katie didn’t. Something about his unsmiling eyes, the low voice, something she didn’t trust.

  ‘Why don’t you tell us the reason you want to find her then?’

  ‘I’m a private investigator, Katie.’

  How she wished he wouldn’t use her name in every sentence. She didn’t trust that either.

  ‘There is such a thing as client confidentiality.’ His eyes narrowed. She had a feeling he was trying to smile again. ‘You understand what client confidentiality means, don’t you, Katie?’

  As if she didn’t know what it meant indeed! Well, she didn’t! But she’d look it up later. For the moment she concentrated on looking intelligent.

  ‘Mr Whittaker has to have his client’s permission before he can tell you who they are, or why they want to find this girl,’ her father explained.

  ‘Can I just say this, Mr Cassidy? And I don’t think I’m breaking the trust of my clients at all when I say it, but,’ he looked again at Katie, directing his words only at her, ‘there are thousands of children disappear each year. Some of them are never found. Their parents are left not knowing what happened to them. Some of these parents spend the rest of their lives searching for their children.’ He paused, a little too much like an actor playing a part for Katie’s liking. ‘Some of them hire people like me, Katie.’

  There he went with the ‘Katie’ again.

  ‘I know I would,’ her mother said, drawing Katie to her as if she might disappear at any moment. ‘I’d never give up trying to find my child.’

  ‘I have a news-clipping service,’ Mr Whittaker went on, ‘sends me any stories about girls, just about this age, begging in the streets, homeless, whatever. Then I follow it up. I have followed so many false trails over the past few months, you wouldn’t believe.’

  ‘Well, that’s what this is, a false trail,’ Katie burst out. ‘There is no homeless girl living on the dump. I made her up.’ She swallowed. ‘I lied.’

  Mr Whittaker’s deep sunk eyes never left her. ‘But … she keeps cropping up in other stories.’

  Katie shrugged. She didn’t know what to say to that. She couldn’t try to tell him she was the other girl. Not in front of her parents.

  ‘Katie!’ Her father’s voice was stern. ‘No one means this girl any harm. It’s nonsense carrying on with this story that she doesn’t exist!’

  ‘I don’t know why you won’t believe me. Why would I lie about it?’ She forced herself to look at Mr Whittaker, though something in those eyes made her shiver. ‘I’m sorry, but you may as well go. You’re wasting your time.’ And she fled from the living-room and up the stairs before anyone could say another word.

  ‘Leave her be, Katherine,’ she heard her father say. ‘She’s not going to change her story.’

  Katie listened, her bedroom door ajar.

  ‘Why would she lie, Douglas? She’s never lied to us before.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Whittaker,’ her father said. ‘And perhaps my wife’s right. Perhaps Katie is telling the truth. I’ve been all over this town, the derelict properties, the dump, and I’ve seen no sign of this girl either.’

  Katie held her breath, waiting for Whittaker’s reply. ‘Please,’ she prayed, ‘let him go away. Let him forget all about Zan.’

  Finally, Mr Whittaker answered. ‘If you don’t mind, Mr Cassidy, I’ll just hang about the town for a bit. I know it might be for nothing. But my clients wouldn’t want me to give up without making sure.’

  That night Katie had yet another worry to add to all the rest. Mr Whittaker! Maybe Zan wasn’t the girl he was looking for. She couldn’t be. Katie imagined his clients, loving, caring parents – just like her own. No, he couldn’t be looking for Zan. She wouldn’t be afraid to go back if she had parents like that.

  Yet … if it wasn’t Zan he was looking for, why was Katie so afraid he might find her?

  She was still thinking it over as she trailed her schoolbag into class next day. So lost in thought she didn’t hear the door slam behind her, or realize that she was alone in the classroom with her arch enemy. Ivy!

  ‘Think you’re pretty smart, don’t ye?’

  Katie jumped out of her reverie at the sound of the voice. ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t act the wee miss innocent wi’ me, Cassidy. You might have scared the Posse oot of their knickers, but no’ me. No’ Ivy Toner.’

  No’ much, Katie wanted to say. She certainly hadn’t given Katie any trouble since Zan had scared the knickers off Ivy. The thought of it made Katie giggle. This was the last thing Ivy could stand. Her eyes bulged, her face went red. She would have lunged at Katie. Katie was even ready to make a quick getaway if she did. But just at that moment the classroom erupted with noise. The door was flung open and a group of pupils came in, surrounding the teacher. Saved in the nick of time. Ivy glared at her, and mouthed, ‘I’ll get you, Cassidy. That’s a promise.’

  Ivy was going to find it hard to keep that promise, for Katie was never alone now. She was always surrounded by friends, or adoring fans, as Miss Withers sneeringly called them. It would be difficult to pick on anyone when they were always in a crowd. Wasn’t that what Zan had said? Stick together. It was the ones who were always on their own who were at risk. The ones who were differ
ent.

  It was break time and Katie and her friends stood at the bike sheds, laughing and talking. Through the crowds Katie glimpsed Ivy, heading in her direction, and she steeled herself for a confrontation.

  Without Zan?

  She was almost relieved when she realized it wasn’t her Ivy was headed for. It was Teresa Henderson. Teresa Henderson was always alone. No one ever bothered with her. She was dirty. She had really bad breath. There was always an unwashed smell about her, and when you touched her hand (which no one ever did willingly) it was always cold and clammy. She was standing alone in the playground. She had both hands shoved in her mouth, managing to chew ten nails at once. It was probably the only time they got washed, Katie thought, and she was angry at herself for thinking that. She was as bad as the rest. She avoided Teresa Henderson, just like everyone else. Including Ivy.

  So … why was Ivy heading for her now?

  Teresa looked up as Ivy stopped in front of her, and blinked nervously several times. Ivy began to talk to her, prodding her with her finger so that Teresa stumbled back. And as Teresa listened, she cowered. Katie knew a cower when she saw one. She had cowered herself often enough when Ivy threatened her. Of course, she’d had no trouble from Ivy. But that didn’t mean to say no one else had. Bullies move on to fresh pastures. It was Teresa’s turn now. Teresa. She wouldn’t ask a teacher for help. People like Teresa expect to get bullied. People like Teresa wouldn’t ask anyone for help. Unlike amiable, happy little Nazeem, Teresa wouldn’t believe anyone would want to help her. And wasn’t it true? Not one soul in that playground, except Katie, was even glancing in her direction. Ivy could bully and threaten her as much as she wanted. It was only Teresa Henderson, after all.

  ‘Look over there,’ Katie said. One of the girls around her turned to see. Teresa was passing over some money now, hurriedly.

  The girl laughed. ‘Ivy’s taking a chance. She might catch something!’

  They all laughed at that. All except Katie. ‘You sound as if you’re on Ivy’s side.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Katie. It’s only dirty Teresa Henderson.’

  Katie looked round them all. The look on her face made them stop laughing. ‘It was only me a few weeks ago.’

  She looked over again to where Ivy and Teresa stood. Teresa was trying to laugh now, trying to please Ivy with a smile, just as Katie used to do. She suddenly knew she had to do something.

  This time she was alone. No Zan. Here, in the playground, no hope of Zan coming to the rescue. She still had to do something.

  She wasn’t alone, she reminded herself. Her friends were here. She looked round them and wondered how long they would remain her friends if Ivy beat her now.

  ‘Are you coming?’ she asked them.

  ‘Over there?’

  ‘To help wee dirty Teresa?’

  ‘Are you coming, or aren’t you?’ Katie repeated. ‘If we stick together, no one can get us. Can’t you see that?’

  They weren’t going to come. It was written all over their faces. They were afraid, scared still of the Ivys of this world. She was going to have to go over there herself. A little part of her began to panic. Now she’d said it, she’d have to. Why couldn’t she ever keep her mouth shut? She tried one last time.

  ‘If we all go over there together, Ivy’s not going to bother anyone again. If she sees we’re going to help all the dirty wee Teresas in the school, who’s left for her to pick on?’

  There was silence. Then, one by one, the look on each of their faces began to change. Katie could read this new look easily. It said simply, ‘If there is any trouble, she can turn into Zan!’

  They were expecting more magic.

  ‘Katie’s right,’ someone said, boldly now. ‘Let’s stick with Katie.’

  Ivy looked up as they approached. ‘Whit do you lot want?’ she asked gruffly.

  ‘You leave Teresa alone,’ Katie said.

  Ivy’s jaw hung open, not believing what she’d just heard. ‘Whit did you say?’

  ‘Has she taken any money off you, Teresa?’

  Teresa flushed and swallowed. She looked from Katie and the girls around her, to Ivy. None of these girls were her friends. Could she trust any of them? Katie read that in her grimy face.

  ‘Come over here,’ Katie said gently. She reached out and took Teresa’s hand. It was cold and clammy and made her cringe, but she held it tight and drew her gently into her circle of friends. One of us.

  ‘Did she take money from you?’ Katie had to look up to Teresa, who was tall, though seldom looked it. She smiled and said gently again, ‘Did she?’

  At last Teresa nodded.

  Katie looked at Ivy. ‘Give it back, then.’

  Ivy glared around them, trying to look fierce. It had always worked so well, that look. But she was alone now.

  ‘Aye, give it back,’ a voice behind Katie shouted.

  ‘Or else,’ another voice threatened.

  Katie almost giggled then. She had a feeling she knew what the ‘or else’ might be. She, Katie, would turn into Zan. Whatever it was, it worked.

  Anger exploded in Ivy. But an anger tinged with fear. ‘Here, take your money back!’ She threw a handful of coins at them. ‘It’s the last time I ask you for a loan for anythin’, Teresa Henderson.’

  She stalked away, not looking back once. But she heard. Heard the laughter and the cheers that erupted as she left them. And Ivy would never forget that, Katie knew. Nor would she forgive.

  She told Zan about it later when they met after school.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you? Stick together. They can’t touch you if you all stick together.’ Zan smiled and popped another crisp into her mouth. She looks amazingly like me, Katie thought, watching her.

  ‘You should get your hair cut,’ Katie said.

  ‘I do cut it.’ She held out an uneven chunk for Katie’s inspection. ‘Do it myself.’

  ‘I don’t mean that, I mean properly. In a hairdresser’s.’

  Zan stopped chewing. ‘Don’t try to make me what I’m not. I’m happy the way I am. OK?’

  ‘OK,’ Katie said, though she still couldn’t understand.

  ‘So now you have another fan. This Teresa?’

  ‘Oh, I hope not. Nazeem’s bad enough.’

  ‘I’ve never heard anyone talk so much,’ Zan laughed. She had a hearty laugh that echoed in the old empty tenement.

  ‘Anyway,’ Katie reminded her, ‘they’re really your fans. Zan is the one they think helped them.’

  ‘Not today, Katie. Today, it was you. Only you.’

  That hadn’t occurred to Katie before. She had stood up to Ivy. She, little Katie Cassidy. The thought made her feel warm all over.

  ‘I’m so glad I met you, Zan.’

  ‘You’ve paid me back,’ Zan answered. ‘Because of you, I can stay here. Everyone thinks I’m you. You’re me. I don’t exist. I feel safe for once. I’ve never stayed this long anywhere before.’

  As she spoke Katie remembered Mr Whittaker, with his long dark face, and his questions … and the warm feeling went.

  Zan saw the change in Katie’s expression. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  Katie almost didn’t tell her. It would be stupid to worry her for nothing. But she knew she couldn’t lie. Not to Zan. And she would have to warn her. Mr Whittaker was planning to join in her father’s frequent forays to search out vagrants.

  ‘It’s probably nothing,’ Katie said. ‘He can’t be looking for you.’

  Zan sat up rigid. ‘Who?’

  ‘Mr Whittaker. He’s a private investigator. It can’t be you he’s looking for. His clients are parents, their child disappeared. They’re frantic with worry. It can’t be you.’ She had to make her stay. She had to.

  ‘But he’s not leaving?’

  ‘In a few days. I told him you don’t exist. I think he believed me.’

  ‘You THINK he believed you!’ Zan was suddenly shouting at her. ‘Don’t you realize yet how important this is to me?’

 
Katie hurried on. ‘But I told him it isn’t you. It can’t be.’ She paused, all at once afraid. ‘Is it?’

  Zan closed her eyes almost as if she were praying. The deserted close was silent, the traffic noises from the streets faded and distant …

  ‘You know what?’ she said at last. And even then Katie knew what was coming. Zan drew in a deep breath. ‘I can’t stay here, Katie. I have to leave right away.’

  Chapter Nine

  Nothing Katie said could convince Zan that it was safe for her to stay. Only the fact that this Mr Whittaker would be leaving soon himself had made her promise to hang on for a few more days.

  If only Katie could do something to convince him Zan didn’t exist. If only she could come up with a plan; but her mind was completely blank of brilliant ideas. She could think of nothing except … Zan had to stay. If she left, why … it would be like losing part of herself.

  ‘What’s wrong, dear? You look so worried.’ Her mother brought her a cup of tea and sat down on the bed beside her. ‘You’re supposed to be doing your homework.’ Her homework lay untouched on her desk in the corner. ‘If it’s the police you’re worried about, they won’t bother you again.’

  Katie had forgotten all about the police. Their visit had been drowned in a sea of more troubles.

  ‘As long as you don’t go near those three girls again. And of course you won’t,’ her mother tutted. ‘I know it’s unfair. And I’ve written to the Chief Constable about it. I’m very angry.’

  Katie smiled for the first time that night. Her mother, trying to be so serious, was wearing a bright pink tracksuit and a face mask, and she had two halves of a lemon tied on to her head. It was difficult to keep a straight face. ‘I’m letting the juice seep through to give my hair shine,’ she had explained earlier to Katie’s father. He had almost jumped out of his skin when she first came out of the bathroom. ‘Alien Invasion! Alien Invasion!’ he had shouted, leaping over the banister and firing an imaginary space gun at her. Katie smiled again at the memory of the moment. So much like old times. Katie would normally have joined in. She knew her father had been hoping she would too. She just couldn’t; not tonight.