Run, Zan, Run (9 page)

Katie’s feelings went from relief to apprehension. He was either going to think everyone in this town was a half-wit or (and this was what frightened her) he was still going to follow the trail that might lead him to Zan.

‘I did right, didn’t I, Katie? I know you said you’re not magic, but …’ Nazeem smiled. Nothing would ever convince her otherwise. ‘I know the truth.’ She went prattling on. ‘Although actually I don’t know why I should be so loyal to someone who totally ignores me.’

‘Me?’ Katie said. ‘When have I ever ignored you? When would I ever get the chance?’

Nazeem tutted. ‘Yesterday, it was. As I was going home from school.’

‘It wasn’t me, Nazeem. I wasn’t near your school yesterday.’

‘I know you when I see you. And you knew it was me.
Even though you were a way off. I called your name. “Katie!” I shouted. And you turned right round.’

‘It wasn’t me, Nazeem!’ Katie insisted. But Nazeem wouldn’t listen.

‘It was too. You were wearing a green anorak, and I must say, Katie, your hair looked absolutely filthy. As if you hadn’t washed it in ages.’ She took a deep, offended breath. ‘And you turned right round, and you looked at me. And I waved … and then you ran … you ran away from me, Katie.’

She pouted, waiting for an apology.

Katie looked thoughtful. She knew what had happened. It had been Zan. And then Katie smiled.

‘I don’t know what’s so funny, Katie. Why are you smiling like that?’

‘Because you’re wonderful, Nazeem.’

And she was.

And because, suddenly, Katie knew exactly how she was going to get rid of Mr Whittaker for good.

Chapter Ten

‘You want your clothes back!’ Zan obviously couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Some charity this is. I hope you get fleas!’

Katie handed her a black bin bag she’d been carrying. ‘Here. I brought you more.’

‘I haven’t got a wardrobe, you know. Where am I supposed to keep all these?’

‘You’ve been seen, Zan.’

She heard Zan catch her breath. ‘That wee Nazeem, wasn’t it? I thought she was going to chase me.’

‘She thought you were me,’ Katie said, her excitement mounting. ‘She really thought you were me. Nazeem, who sees me almost every day. She makes sure of it.’

‘So?’ Zan was baffled.

Maybe, just maybe, Katie thought, she was as bright as Zan. She just hadn’t had the need to use her wits
before. Necessity was, after all, the mother of brilliant ideas.

‘So …?’ Zan urged impatiently. ‘Are you going to tell me? Or are you just going to sit there looking pleased with yourself all day?’

‘You’re going to let yourself be seen, over the next couple of days … like that …’ She indicated the green anorak and jeans.

‘You’ve got to be joking!’ Zan was horrified. ‘Your dad’s vultures are everywhere. Forcing shelter and soup and fresh clothes on people, whether they want them or not.’

‘That’s exactly why some of them have to see you. You won’t get caught and you’re good at hiding. You told me that yourself.’

Zan threw her head back proudly. ‘The best!’

‘And you’re good at running too.’

‘Of course I am.’

‘But I’m not. I’m going to get caught.’

Zan still looked puzzled.

‘Don’t you see? Over the next few days you’re spotted. Word gets back to Whittaker – and it will – and on Friday, I’ll swap clothes with you. I’ll be the girl in the green anorak. And when they run after me … I’ll be caught. I can’t run for toffee.’

‘Why Friday?’

‘Because on Friday, Dad is supervising the soup kitchen at Hill Street. Mr Whittaker is going to be there with him. I heard him tell Mum. Both of them will catch me dressed as you – they couldn’t not believe me after that!’

‘And you think he’ll fall for that?’ The idea appealed to Zan, Katie could tell by the enthusiastic way she asked the question.

‘I think he might. He believes there’s someone, and that someone is always linked to me. Everyone he talks to tells him it’s me, one and the same. All he needs is one final wee push, and I think he’ll believe it’s me too.’

Zan was still not completely convinced. ‘And what excuse are you going to give your dad for running about in old clothes and condemned houses?’

‘I’ve already thought about that. I’ll tell him I managed to beat Ivy, and she made up the story about the other girl because she was so mortified that wee Katie Cassidy had got one over on her. So I thought if I dressed up like her they’d all believe it and leave me alone.’

Lies, lies and more lies, she heard her father’s voice somewhere accusing her, and she felt guilty. She pushed
the guilt away. It was for a good cause. The best.

‘And he’ll believe that?’

‘As long as Mr Whittaker believes it, that’s all that matters.’

Zan considered it all thoughtfully. Katie shivered. It was bitterly cold in the derelict flat Zan now called home. She had furnished one corner with a new cardboard box, lined with an old blanket. Home. Katie shivered again. How could she sleep here?

Safer than anywhere else she’d been, she’d told Katie. Safer? Here? Where have you been, Zan?

‘OK!’ Zan slapped her knees. ‘We’ll give it a try. I’m in the mood for a wee bit of excitement anyway.’

On Wednesday her father told her that a girl had been seen on the dump. Just a glimpse, but enough to give Mr Whittaker some hope that he was on the right trail at last.

‘What do you think of that?’ her father asked, looking for some sign of guilt. He didn’t have to look very far. Katie couldn’t hide her blush. ‘You said there was no girl. Remember?’

‘Maybe it’s a different girl. I’ve not seen her. How should I know?’

His eyes narrowed. He was annoyed with her. He began to say something else, then he changed his mind. He didn’t understand. She knew that.

Things began to happen at school too. Katie was walking along the corridor when she was stopped by Mr Percy.

‘Ah, Katie,’ Mr Percy said. ‘I’ve been thinking over your suggestion. Self-defence classes, remember?’

Of course she remembered. Silly question.

‘I’ve been taking a survey, and it’s a very popular idea. Good for young women to be able to take care of themselves. Even if there isn’t a problem with bullies in this school.’ He paused. His eyes never left hers. She had a feeling he had been talking to Miss Withers.

Katie smiled back at him. ‘I think it’s a great idea, sir.’

‘I won’t be starting them till after the Christmas break. In January. Sound all right?’

Christmas. Only a few weeks away. What would have happened by then?

‘However … I do have another little idea I thought we might talk about.’

‘We?’ Katie said in surprise. ‘You and me, sir?’

‘Yes. You and me, Katie. I haven’t time to talk about it
now. But I’ll get back to you.’ Then he was bounding off down the corridor to his next class.

‘I wonder what his idea is?’ she thought. And Mr Percy wanted to talk to
her
about it. Little Katie Cassidy?

She was ensconced in her room with Nazeem when her mother appeared.

‘I’m off to my meeting, Katie. Now, Nazeem, you’re sure your father’s going to pick you up?’

‘Oh yes, Mrs Cassidy.’

‘Where’s Dad?’ Katie asked as her mother was closing the door.

‘He’s gone with Mr Whittaker to speak to someone who caught sight of that girl on the dump.’

When her mother had gone, Nazeem asked, ‘Don’t your mum and dad know that’s you?’

Katie didn’t quite know how to answer that one, but she didn’t have to worry. Nazeem answered it herself. ‘They probably wouldn’t believe you anyway. Parents don’t believe in magic.’ She bounced up and down on the bed. Katie wondered how her bed survived it. ‘Oh, this is fun. I wish we could have a sleepover.’ Suddenly her eyes widened as if she’d just had a brilliant idea.
‘Let’s have one on Friday night! Mother’s always saying I should have friends to sleep over. Will you come, Katie? Friday night?’

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to.’ Somehow, Katie had a feeling by Friday night she’d be grounded.

‘But why not?’ Nazeem waited for an answer. Katie hesitated, not quite sure how to answer her. She needn’t have worried. Nazeem supplied her own answer.

‘You’re going to help someone, aren’t you. The way you helped me?’

‘I’m not going to be able to come to your house, Nazeem.’

Nazeem nodded enthusiastically. ‘I understand. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.’ She paused. ‘You wouldn’t mind if I had some other friends over to stay?’

‘Of course I wouldn’t,’ Katie assured her.

‘Friday is going to be just great!’ screamed Nazeem excitedly.

Friday, thought Katie, is going to be a very important day for us all.

Chapter Eleven

Were they never going to spot her? Katie had been sitting here at the corner of Hill Street for half an hour. Her bottom was frozen and she was fed up. She’d been so sure someone would have seen her and passed the message on to her father and Mr Whittaker at the Community Hall. That is, until one old man on his way there stopped and whispered, ‘Don’t worry, dearie. I won’t say a word.’ He put a black-fingernailed hand across his whiskered mouth. ‘Not a word.’

They were loyal, these people of the streets. They knew Zan didn’t want to be found. They thought she was Zan. She would have to do something else. She’d have to go nearer, though she didn’t want to. She wanted at least to give them a run for their money, and she reminded herself: she couldn’t run for toffee.

She struggled to her feet. It was icy underfoot and she
almost slipped. She was going to run in this? What was she doing here? You’re daft, Katie Cassidy, she told herself. Daft as a brush.

She trudged towards the Community Hall. People were going in, people were coming out. She hardly looked. She didn’t think anyone was going to notice her anyway, or tell on her if they did. It had been a stupid, useless plan.

Then a man appeared in the doorway. A long, thin man. He leaned against the door smoking a cigarette, looking up and down the street. Katie froze. She actually froze. She couldn’t move. She wouldn’t be able to run. Now she knew what they meant when they said ‘paralysed with fear’. Something about Mr Whittaker frightened her more than she could explain. She knew she had to get away from him. She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve run away from Ivy Toner,’ she told herself. ‘This is going to be a dawdle.’ She just wished she could believe that.

His eyes swept the street. At last, he saw her. He threw the cigarette away. His body tensed. Katie turned from him. She could move! She could run!

‘Hey you, girl!’

Good. He hadn’t recognized her as Katie. Not yet. She began to run and heard his footsteps behind her, too
close. She put on an extra spurt, breathless already. I’ll never keep this up. She could hear others joining in the chase.

‘Stop!’

‘We won’t hurt you!’

‘Come back. We don’t mean you any harm.’

Still she ran. Katie never knew she could run like this. Like the wind. Like Zan.

She heard a startled cry behind her and glanced back. Mr Whittaker had gone flying on a patch of ice. A couple behind him, too late to stop, stumbled on top of him. It was comical, but she didn’t have time to laugh. For suddenly, she could see her father, weaving in and out, catching up on them all. She turned and raced on.

Her legs were growing weak now. Her heart pounding. Any time now, she would have to stop. They would catch her.

She turned a corner, and was grabbed! ‘Got you!’ It was a woman, pinning Katie against her. ‘I’ve got her! I’ve got her!’ Katie pummelled her fists against the woman, tried to push her away, but the woman was stronger. ‘You silly wee fool,’ she said. ‘We only want to help you.’

Then Mr Whittaker bounded round the corner and
grabbed her shoulders. His fingers bit into Katie’s arms painfully. Why was he being so rough if he only wanted to help her? She struggled as he turned her round to face him.

‘You!’ His eyes blazed with anger. His grip tightened even more. For a moment Katie was sure he was going to slap her. She swallowed. She had never felt so much like fainting in her life. Then her father appeared. He took one look at Katie and his face drained of all its colour.

‘Katie!’ he said, and there was shock and surprise and disappointment just in the way he said it. ‘Katie.’

‘I thought it would keep Ivy Toner from bothering me. That’s why I did it.’

She had tried to explain a dozen times to them, but the faces glowering back at her had no understanding in them.

‘What a terrible trick to play on your father,’ one woman said, her eyes cold and accusing.

‘I did try to tell you, Dad. But you wouldn’t believe me.’

He looked at her for a long time. ‘I still don’t understand, Katie.’ He turned to Mr Whittaker. ‘It looks as
though those crazy stories are true. Katie and this girl … well, there is no other girl, is there?’ Katie caught sight of herself in an old mirror lying askew against the wall. She looked tiny and vulnerable, not tough and strong the way Zan would look. She could almost see her reflection shimmer until Zan was looking back at her. Sitting up straight, defiance in her face, ready to run at the first opportunity. Let’s face it, Katie told herself, Zan wouldn’t even have got caught.

She was cold. So cold. There was tea being dished out to all and sundry. People were standing around her warming their hands round steaming mugs. No one had offered her anything yet and she didn’t think they ever would.

‘It looks as if I’m wasting my time here,’ Mr Whittaker said at last.

Katie almost jumped to her feet in delight. It had worked! He was going. Zan could stay. That was worth everything. She’d make it up to her parents, all these lies. She made a promise right then. ‘I will never lie again. I will devote the rest of my life to doing good works for the homeless.’ Working with her father in Community Halls all over the country … the world even. She saw herself as a sort of Mother Teresa. A
living saint. Receiving the Nobel Prize for Peace while her adoring mother and father looked on. She was going to make them proud of her.

‘Well, I’m going to take this one home,’ her father said, lifting her to her feet.