Gone Missing by Jean Ure Page B

one?” She giggles. “I could be under sixteen!”
    I nearly say yes, cos I can’t see anyone’s likely to challenge her. She really does act young for her age, specially when she’s not sure of herself. I, on the other hand, have always acted far older than I am. It’s one of the things that Dad and I have had some of our most bitter rows about.
    â€œ Shall I?” says Honey. “It’d save us money!”
    I’m tempted, but in the end I tell her no, it’s not worth it. I remind her that we can’t afford to take any unnecessary risks.
    â€œOh, well, OK,” she says, and giggles again. “I’ll be sixteen!”
    She gets another dose of the wobbles when we discover that there’s a Victoria line southbound and a Victoria line northbound and we can’t immediately decide which one to go for, but then I read the list of stations and find Oxford Circus on the southbound bit, so that’s all right. I do believe that I am quite a practical sort of person. I enjoy finding my way round strange places, I look upon it as a challenge.
    I slip my arm through Honey’s. I suddenly feel incredibly fond of her, and protective.
    â€œSee?” I give her a squeeze. “Everything’s working out really well!”

five
    It was seven o’clock when we got on the brown line at Oxford Circus. We had been gone for almost five hours, though it actually felt a lot longer. Mum, and Dad, and home, seemed like really far away. I could have found it a bit scary, if I’d let myself. I knew that I had to keep focused. So long as I concentrated on getting us to Darcy’s, I was OK; I had something to aim for. It was when I stopped to look back that little shivers of doubt came creeping in. I couldn’t afford to have doubts! I had Honey to take care of.
    She was sitting next to me, clutching her rucksack tightly with both hands.
    â€œIt’s going to be OK,” I said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
    â€œI’m not worried,” said Honey. “So long as we’re together.”
    No one was going to separate us, that was for sure.
    I knew, when we got to Stonebridge Park, that I would have to break the rules and ask someone for directions. I really didn’t want to, cos it was almost Rule no.1, Don’t talk to anybody , but I hadn’t the faintest idea how to get from the station to Darcy’s place.
    â€œYou didn’t ask her?” said Honey.
    I said, “No, how could I? I haven’t spoken to her!”
    Honey turned slowly to look at me. “You haven’t even told her we’re coming?”
    â€œI didn’t have a chance! It was all such a rush. Anyway, I don’t know her telephone number.” Her mobile had stopped working ages ago, and if she had an email address she’d never given it to me. She’d texted me a couple of times, when she’d first gone down to London, but after that it had just been postcards. Well, just one postcard, actually, saying how cool it was, being only thirty minutes from the West End.
    â€œIt’s all right,” I said, “there’s no problem. She told me, if ever I wanted a place to crash-like if ever it got too heavy at home and I had to get out–she told me, I could always just turn up.”
    â€œThat’s you,” said Honey. “What about me?”
    â€œBoth of us! It’s OK, she won’t mind.”
    â€œIf she’s still there,” muttered Honey.
    â€œLook, will you please just stop being so negative all the time!” I stamped my foot, in a way I now see was rather childish. I mean, Honey did have a point. For all I knew, Darcy’s sister could have moved to the other side of London, taking Darcy with her. They might not even be in London; they could be anywhere in the country. I’d been purposely not thinking about it. There is absolutely nothing to be gained from worrying yourself to a