gear,’ he says. ‘Here’s the phone.’
‘I haven’t got any change.’
‘Call reverse charges then.’
‘How … ?’
‘Oh, get real, Christine. Phone the operator and tell her it’s a collect call.’
He’s furious. But how’s a fifteen-year-old kid supposedto know about long-distance reverse charges? Then I remember he thinks I’m eighteen (or a bit less). He walks off and leans against the nearest tree.
I phone the operator and go through the process.
‘Leanne Studley,’ I go when she asks who’s making the call.
Next thing Mum’s on the line.
‘Hi, Mum.’
‘Leanne. Where are you?’
‘Never mind. I just want to let you know I’m okay, perfectly safe and …’
‘Why, Leanne? Why?’
She sounds as angry as AC/DC in a power strike.
‘I need space.’
‘Space? Space ? That’s what you’ve got between the ears! One great empty vacuum. You act like you’re five instead of fifteen. Now, listen, this is what I want you to do. Go to the nearest police station. Tell them there’s a Missing Persons out on you, and … what’s that, Steve … ? Oh, okay, and tell them …’
I crash down the phone so hard that the booth shakes.
He’s there, Steve the super snoop cop! Well, they can all drop dead! I crash out of the phone box and there’s Nathan looking livid .
‘Now what?’ I snap.
The conversation with Mum’s shaken me up. A Missing Persons? Great!
‘So. You lied.’
‘Huh? What are you on about? You heard me. I did it. I phoned home.’
‘I wasn’t talking about that, Christine. Or should I say Leanne Studley !’
He’s overheard me!
‘Okay, so I gave you a false name. I had to know if I could trust you.’
‘How old are you?’
‘I told you. Eighteen.’
‘You’re lying, Leanne.’
‘Okay, okay. Sixteen. Well, nearly.’
‘What? Fifteen?’
He’s totally shocked. He grabs me by the arm and hauls me back along the street to the van. He pushes me inside.
‘Meet Leanne Studley, age fifteen.’
‘I knew it. Jail bait. Betcha there’s a Missing Persons out on her, too.’
‘That’s it. She’s outa here.’
I can’t believe this is happening.
‘Go,’ says Nathan. ‘Now.’
‘But …’
He drags me out to the annexe, gets my bag, shoves my stuff off the annexe ropes into it and tosses it at me.
‘You’re trouble, Leanne. And we don’t need it. Goodbye.’
‘But … it’s dark. I’ve got nowhere to go.’
I start to cry. I’m standing there clutching the bag and he goes back inside the van and shuts the door. I stand there sobbing quietly. Then the door opens. They’ve changed their minds! I know Nathan really likes me. He can’t let me go off on my own in the dark.
‘Here.’
A wad of money lands at my feet.
And the door slams shut in my face.
SAM
----
Living without Leanne is fantastic. She’s been gone a week now and I’ve got two bedrooms to myself. Apart from Mum stressing out that Leanne’s met with foul play and been murdered under a bridge (what’s new?) everything’s lovely and quiet. I’ve taken over looking after her lupins and they’re still listening seriously to the Gunners every day for ten minutes and growing like Jack’s beanstalk. Tomorrow I’ll measure them for Miss Rosewall. Mum’s spread the word that Leanne’s got a highly infectious disease and can’t go to school and can’t have visitors but some kid from Year 9 went to the cop shop and saw her photo on the Most Recently Missing Persons’ wall and the rumours are flying. Lucky for me the photo was taken twoyears ago and it doesn’t even look like Leanne because I went and had a look. I mean, who needs a missing sister? It’s embarrassing. I’ve spread a rumour that it’s another Leanne Studley.
Then all these other weird stories are flying round the school! Some kids are saying she’s got AIDS and some are saying she’s been abducted by a rich Iranian prince and some are saying she’s on the run to King’s Cross and some are
‘I haven’t got any change.’
‘Call reverse charges then.’
‘How … ?’
‘Oh, get real, Christine. Phone the operator and tell her it’s a collect call.’
He’s furious. But how’s a fifteen-year-old kid supposedto know about long-distance reverse charges? Then I remember he thinks I’m eighteen (or a bit less). He walks off and leans against the nearest tree.
I phone the operator and go through the process.
‘Leanne Studley,’ I go when she asks who’s making the call.
Next thing Mum’s on the line.
‘Hi, Mum.’
‘Leanne. Where are you?’
‘Never mind. I just want to let you know I’m okay, perfectly safe and …’
‘Why, Leanne? Why?’
She sounds as angry as AC/DC in a power strike.
‘I need space.’
‘Space? Space ? That’s what you’ve got between the ears! One great empty vacuum. You act like you’re five instead of fifteen. Now, listen, this is what I want you to do. Go to the nearest police station. Tell them there’s a Missing Persons out on you, and … what’s that, Steve … ? Oh, okay, and tell them …’
I crash down the phone so hard that the booth shakes.
He’s there, Steve the super snoop cop! Well, they can all drop dead! I crash out of the phone box and there’s Nathan looking livid .
‘Now what?’ I snap.
The conversation with Mum’s shaken me up. A Missing Persons? Great!
‘So. You lied.’
‘Huh? What are you on about? You heard me. I did it. I phoned home.’
‘I wasn’t talking about that, Christine. Or should I say Leanne Studley !’
He’s overheard me!
‘Okay, so I gave you a false name. I had to know if I could trust you.’
‘How old are you?’
‘I told you. Eighteen.’
‘You’re lying, Leanne.’
‘Okay, okay. Sixteen. Well, nearly.’
‘What? Fifteen?’
He’s totally shocked. He grabs me by the arm and hauls me back along the street to the van. He pushes me inside.
‘Meet Leanne Studley, age fifteen.’
‘I knew it. Jail bait. Betcha there’s a Missing Persons out on her, too.’
‘That’s it. She’s outa here.’
I can’t believe this is happening.
‘Go,’ says Nathan. ‘Now.’
‘But …’
He drags me out to the annexe, gets my bag, shoves my stuff off the annexe ropes into it and tosses it at me.
‘You’re trouble, Leanne. And we don’t need it. Goodbye.’
‘But … it’s dark. I’ve got nowhere to go.’
I start to cry. I’m standing there clutching the bag and he goes back inside the van and shuts the door. I stand there sobbing quietly. Then the door opens. They’ve changed their minds! I know Nathan really likes me. He can’t let me go off on my own in the dark.
‘Here.’
A wad of money lands at my feet.
And the door slams shut in my face.
SAM
----
Living without Leanne is fantastic. She’s been gone a week now and I’ve got two bedrooms to myself. Apart from Mum stressing out that Leanne’s met with foul play and been murdered under a bridge (what’s new?) everything’s lovely and quiet. I’ve taken over looking after her lupins and they’re still listening seriously to the Gunners every day for ten minutes and growing like Jack’s beanstalk. Tomorrow I’ll measure them for Miss Rosewall. Mum’s spread the word that Leanne’s got a highly infectious disease and can’t go to school and can’t have visitors but some kid from Year 9 went to the cop shop and saw her photo on the Most Recently Missing Persons’ wall and the rumours are flying. Lucky for me the photo was taken twoyears ago and it doesn’t even look like Leanne because I went and had a look. I mean, who needs a missing sister? It’s embarrassing. I’ve spread a rumour that it’s another Leanne Studley.
Then all these other weird stories are flying round the school! Some kids are saying she’s got AIDS and some are saying she’s been abducted by a rich Iranian prince and some are saying she’s on the run to King’s Cross and some are
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