“No, you’re not!” Sophie exclaims. “You’re Amy’s friend from the Sinister Frite Night.”

  Clover says smoothly, “I was undercover, working on another case at the time. A very sensitive case to bring down a certain teenage boy who wasn’t behaving himself.”

  Sophie stares at Clover with her mouth hanging open in shock.

  Mills adds, “And Clover was the American casting agent in the shoe shop in Dundrum. The one who made Annabelle bark. She’s an amazing actress.”

  Sophie’s face is getting whiter and whiter by the second. She looks at her mum. “Don’t believe a word they’re saying. I have no idea what they’re doing in here.” She points at me. “But Amy’s the thief.”

  “I am not,” I say, glaring at her. “And soon we’ll have proof. Show them, Clover.”

  Clover reaches into her pocket and pulls out a handful of pearls. She shines her torch over them and they gleam in the light, like tiny birds’ eggs. “We found these in this shed,” she says.

  Mrs Piggott looks at the pearls. “Are they my pearls? Did you break the cord, you stupid girl?” She glares at me, her eyes narrowing. “Are you trying to plant them here to get out of this?”

  How dare she! “No!” I say sharply. “Clover, I’ll let you take over.”

  Clover whips a small plastic bag filled with talcum powder and a paintbrush out of a pocket. She dips a pearl in the powder and then brushes the excess off with the brush. “Just dusting for fingerprints, Mrs Piggott. We were going to leave this bit to the guards, but seeing as you’re both here… ” She hands the bag with talcum powder in it to Mills and puts the pearl in a clear plastic sandwich bag.

  Then she takes an inkpad out of another pocket and opens it. “I’ll need to take some fingerprint samples. You first, Mrs Piggott, to rule yours out. Then Sophie.”

  “Why me?” Sophie asks quickly.

  “Because you’re a suspect,” Clover says calmly. “You were spotted in this shed with a certain Mark Del—”

  “Stop!” Sophie says.

  But it’s too late. Mrs Piggott is staring at her. “You were in here with a boy, Sophie?”

  Sophie stares down at the floor. “No! She’s lying.”

  “Look at me, young lady. Is that why your neck was all red after the party? Answer me!”

  Sophie gives a dramatic sigh. “OK, so I was kissing a boy. Big deal! But it doesn’t mean anything, Mum. Amy still took your pearls.”

  “Sophie,” Mills says, shaking her head. “Just tell the truth. Amy doesn’t deserve this. It’s not fair.”

  “Oh, you just keep out of it, Amelia!” Sophie snaps. “What would you know?”

  Mills looks at Sophie in disgust. She hates her real name. Then she says, “Mrs Piggott, Sophie took your pearls and then tried to frame Amy. I’m so sorry I didn’t say something earlier. But Sophie threatened me and—”

  “Sophie Piggott,” Mrs Piggott cuts in, her voice icy. “Is this true? Did you take my pearls?”

  Sophie’s face goes chalk white and then flushes bright red. “No!”

  But Mrs Piggott clearly doesn’t believe her. “You did, didn’t you? You’ve always been a terrible liar. I’ll kill you! I’ve warned you before about taking my things and not putting them back. To your room now, before I smack your spoilt little bottom.”

  Sophie scuttles away and runs towards the house.

  Mrs Piggott says, “I guess I owe you an apology, Amy.”

  “I guess you do. But you’d better talk to the guards first.” Police sirens are blaring down the road and two squad cars with flashing lights pull up outside the house, sending the gravel flying.

  Mrs Piggott tut-tuts. “Oh dear, I’m in my dressing gown.” She tightens the belt round her waist and touches her hair.

  “I’d say that’s the least of her worries,” Clover whispers to me. “They hate false alarms. Let’s split.”

  Mum must have heard Clover’s car because when I try to slip in the back door she’s standing there waiting for me, her arms crossed. She looks furious.

  “Amy Green! It’s nearly eleven. Where the hell have you been? I’ve been so worried. I went up to check on you earlier but you weren’t in your room. I thought you’d run away. You’d better have a darned good explanation.”

  Oops. I should have done the old pillows under the duvet trick. “Sorry, Mum. I was with Clover and Mills. We were at the Piggotts’ house. Proving my innocence.”

  Mum shakes her head. “Oh, Amy, you weren’t.”

  “It’s OK; it worked. Clover pretended to be a private investigator and caught Sophie out. It was her all along.”

  Mum clutches at the back of a chair. “I think I’d better sit down.”

  When she’s sitting at the kitchen table I tell her the whole story.

  Afterwards, Mum says, “Poor Antonia. She must have felt a right fool.”

  “Poor Antonia, my bum. She wanted to ship me off to prison.”

  Mum smiles. “Anyway, I’m glad it’s all ended happily. And you and Mills are obviously friends again?”

  I nod. “Speaking of Mills, can she stay the night?” Mills told her mum she was staying the night in Sophie’s house. Otherwise she would never have been let out so late. Her overnight bag has been sitting under the garden seat all this time.

  “Now?”

  I nod again. “She’s in the back garden waiting for the all clear.”

  “What are you like, Amy? Oh, go on, bring her in. But don’t stay up all night gossiping.”

  “I have something to tell you,” Mills says at twenty past twelve. “And you might not like it.”

  We’re both lying in my bed. We can’t stop talking. We have a lot of catching up to do.

  “Look,” she says, “I’m just going to say this: I fancy Seth. At least I did.”

  “What?” I say, genuinely shocked. I stare at her to see if she’s joking. But she’s not smiling.

  She bites her lower lip and I can see her teeth glowing in the dark. “That’s why I was so annoyed with you. I want to tell you everything, be totally honest, so we can start again.”

  “Seriously?” I ask. “But you said he was a weirdo.”

  She shrugs and then nods. “I was jealous. Sophie likes him too. She thinks he looks like Johnny Depp.”

  “No!” I give a laugh. “Ha! This is unbelievable. Wait till I tell him.”

  “You can’t. I’d die.”

  “Can I at least tell him about Sophie? Please? Seeing as you’re not friends with her any more?”

  She bumps her shoulder against mine. “Does that mean we’re friends again?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Thanks, Amy.”

  “For what? Without you and Clover I’d be banged up in the slammer by now. Because of you I’m a free woman.”

  Mills giggles and rolls her eyes. “Stop exaggerating.”

  “It’s good to have you back, Mills.”

  “You too. Life’s far more interesting with you around. Now tell me all about Seth. Have you kissed him yet?”

  Chapter 27

  “Antonia rang,” Mum says as soon as I walk into the kitchen the following morning. I feel ragged. Me and Mills were up till all hours talking and I’m dog tired and a bit grumpy. She’s just gone home.

  “She apologized for the whole pearls business. She’s grounded Sophie for the rest of the summer. Plus she has to work in the kitchens at the old people’s home every morning for free. Anyway, I meant to ask, how did Clover get mixed up in all of this in the first place?”

  I smile. “We needed a fast getaway vehicle…”

  Mum puts her hands up. “I don’t want to know. Trust Clover to get involved. She’s worse than you are, Amy.”

  “At least Clover never doubted me.” I look at Dave who’s eating toast and reading the newspaper. “Unlike some.”

  He looks up. “What? Are you talking about me?”

  “Yes, I am actually. You thought I took those pearls. I know you did.”

  He drops his toast on to the plate, sending crumbs scattering. “That’s not fair. I was just trying to back up your mum. And if you look at the facts—”

  “The facts?” I glare at him. “Dave, you’re supposed to defend me no matter what, not weigh up the evidence. You know, things were a lot easier before you came along. Me and Mum were muddling along just fine. Now Mum’s a mess, worrying about her marshmallow tummy. And she’s exhausted and ratty all the time.”

  “Amy!” Mum warns, but I’m on a roll. All my pent up feelings are coming out – my stress over worrying about the pearls; about the guards and getting arrested; my anxiety over Dad and Shelly; worries about my exam results, which are due any day now.

  “You’re supposed to be a nurse, you should look after Mum better. All of us better. You’ve made her paranoid about her figure. And look at the state of you—”

  “Amy!” Mum snaps. “That’s quite enough. Go to your room. Immediately.” There are angry pink spots on both her cheeks and her eyes are flashing. I know not to mess with her. I stomp upstairs.

  I can hear a heated discussion in the kitchen. The door is closed, but their voices are raised so I can make most of it out. Dave is saying something about how he never asked for any of this. That he’s doing his best with me, but I’m not the easiest kid to get along with. That he doesn’t know how to handle me most of the time.

  Mum’s saying it’s not her fault, how she had to be good cop and bad cop for ages before he came along, how he can get lost with his judgemental attitude. That I’m right, he’s made her a nervous wreck, how the babies are doing her head in, how she wants her old life back. That she just wants everyone to leave her alone for a change.

  Then the kitchen door opens and I can hear every word.

  “How can you say that?” Dave demands. “I’ve given up everything for you, Sylvie. Everything. If you want me to leave, just say the word. I’m this close.”

  “I want you to leave,” Mum says. “I think we need to spend some time apart.”

  And then nothing. Just silence. And seconds later, bang, the front door slams shut. And Evie starts to cry.

  For a split second I’m glad. But then I realize what’s just happened. Dave’s gone! He’s left Mum. Left all of us. And I made this happen – me and my big mouth. It’s all my fault.

  Chapter 28

  A week later and Dave’s still not back. Mum told me he’s staying with a friend and taking some time out, and that I’m not to worry about it. She said sometimes grown-ups need time and space to think things over.

  I also heard her talking to Clover on the phone, saying it was typical – yet again she was the one left holding the babies. And she misses him so much. I think Clover told her just to ask him to come back because then Mum said, “It’s not as simple as that. He has to want to come back; he has to want a family and all the messiness that comes with it. And, quite frankly, I don’t know if he does.”

  Clover’s been brilliant: she calls over every day to help Mum put the babies to bed. She’s pretty hopeless at bathing them or changing nappies, but she sits on the closed toilet seat and watches Mum do it, telling her funny stories about the magazine and making her smile, which is saying a lot.

  Dave came over to see the babies on Wednesday, but I was in Mills’s house so I missed him. Mum was in an awful state afterwards. She was trying to put a brave face on it, but I could see she was in bits. She even started crying when Alex threw his pasta at the wall and it left a big puddle-sized stain, like one of those ink blot paintings you do in playschool. Alex is always doing things like that; usually she just laughs and cleans it up. This time I had to deal with it while Mum held the edge of the sink and sobbed.

  I feel so guilty, but I don’t know what to do. Mum has been moping around the house like a lost soul all week, sighing deeply and gazing out the window as if Dave’s about to walk up the path at any moment.

  I’m so ashamed I haven’t even told Mills or Seth about what I said to Dave. I’m sure they know something’s up, I’m not exactly myself. Clover’s been busy at work so I’ve been hanging out with Seth and Mills, the three of us.

  In the end I didn’t tell him about Sophie and Mills fancying him. Mills told me in confidence and it didn’t seem right somehow.

  Dad comes to collect me on Saturday morning and I’m relieved to get out of the house.

  “Is your mum sick?” he asks as we drive away. “She’s very quiet.” Mum’s standing in the doorway, gazing at the back of Dad’s car. It’s eleven and she’s still in her pyjamas with an old sweatshirt of Dave’s pulled over them. “Is she still upset about the whole baby thing?”

  “No. Dave’s gone,” I say simply.

  “What?” Dad almost crashes into the car in front. He indicates and then pulls over. He turns and looks at me, his face full of shock and concern. “Why? What happened?”

  “They had a fight.” Tears prick the back of my eyes. “Dad, what am I going to do? It’s all my fault.”

  “Of course it’s not your fault.” Dad strokes my head. “I’m sure it’s just a silly argument that adults have.”

  “No, it is my fault.” I tell him exactly what happened. And give him his due, he doesn’t contradict me.

  “I can see why you think that,” he says. “But there was obviously something simmering away underneath. Dave’s a decent guy, he wouldn’t just leave because of one thing you said to him. But I know the two of you don’t exactly see eye to eye. Have you been making things difficult for him in general, Amy?”

  I think for a moment. Maybe I have made life hard for Dave. Shelly too. I have a huge lump in my throat so I just shrug glumly.

  “Sometimes life isn’t easy for any of us,” Dad says gently. “You should give him a chance. He makes your mum happy. And that’s the only thing that matters, isn’t it?”

  I start crying. “Yes,” I say through my tears. But what about me? Don’t I count too? I swipe my tears away with the back of my hand. I just want to be on my own. “Dad, can I go home? Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. Shelly will be disappointed though. She’s decorated the attic for you. She found an Italian sofa in Arnotts and she’s ordered new curtains to match. And she bought you a new flat screen telly and a DVD player. All out of her own money.”

  “Must have cost her.”

  “She insisted. After all that business with the baby’s room and everything. She really wants the two of you to be friends.”

  “Friends?” I make a face.

  “Amy! Just try and be nice to her. She’ll need your help once the baby’s here. She doesn’t have any sisters or anything. You’re all she’s got.”

  I take a deep breath. Be big, I tell myself. Don’t go messing up yet again. “Tell her she can ring me. But only in an emergency.”

  He smiles at me gratefully. “Thanks, Amy.”

  Dad drops me off at the end of the road, but instead of walking home, I hop on the train to Gramps’s house. It’s not far to walk but I can’t wait. I desperately need to talk to Clover.

  “Hi, Beanie,” Clover says as she opens the door. “I was hoping it was you. I need your help. I got this email about kissing—”

  “I have to find Dave,” I tell her frantically. “It’s urgent.”

  “Is he still AWOL?” she asks.

  I nod. “I must talk to him. He has to come home. Mum’s miserable without him. And no one’s changed the bin all week. There are these horrible little flies hovering over the box for the compost and the nappy bin is so full me and Mum can’t lift it. The whole house stinks.”

  Clover starts to laugh.

  “Why are you laughing?” I demand. “It’s not funny!”

  “You want Dave back ’cos the house smells?”

  “No! Not just that. Mum misses him. And the babies miss him.”

  She looks at me, her head tilted to one side. “And what about you, Beanie? Do you miss him?”

  “A little,” I admit. “But most of all I miss Mum. She’s not herself at the moment. It’s like living with someone out of Coronation Street. She never stops crying and she’s been wearing her dressing gown all week. She hasn’t had a shower for days. She’ll be smoking next and drinking gin at breakfast. I can’t take it any more.”

  “So you want to convince him to come home?”

  “Yes, if I can.”

  “Then there’s something you should read first. It might just help you understand where he’s coming from. I found it a while back when I was googling a fashion label called Colts.”

  “That’s Dave’s old band, isn’t it? The Colts?”

  “It sure is, Beanie. He’s so obvious. Wait there.” She walks out the back door and into her office. She comes back out with a plastic folder in her hands. Then she grabs her car keys from the pottery bowl on the hall table. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go. You can read this in the car.”

  “But where will we find him? I don’t know where he’s staying.”

  She looks at me crookedly. “Amy, you’ve been solving problems with me for weeks now. Use your nut.” She knocks on my head gently with her knuckles. “We’re going to the hospital.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because clearly I have the superior brain.”

  As Clover parks the car in the St Vincent’s car park, my stomach is in knots. What am I going to say to him? What if he won’t talk to me? What if he’s not on duty at all? I know he’s on days at the moment because I rang Mum on the way over here – she was so spaced out she didn’t even ask why I wanted to know – but maybe his rota has changed.

  “Stop worrying, Beanie,” Clover says as she locks the car. “It’ll be fine. Just tell him what you told me. Without mentioning the bins.”

  I nod silently, still feeling sick.

  I know where the nurses’ station is because I’ve called in before with Mum. As we approach I see Dave sitting inside, reading a patient’s chart. He looks tired, his face is pale and he has dark rings under his eyes. Sensing my gaze he looks up and our eyes lock. He says something to the nurse beside him and walks towards me. I can feel my cheeks burn. I still have no idea what I’m going to say.

 

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