Snakehead by Anthony Horowitz Page A

cold and drizzling there. The English winter had already arrived. Yes, they both deserved a vacation. But it was time to go home.
    Jack was also eating ice cream, and although she was twenty-eight, she suddenly looked younger with her untidy red hair, her lopsided smile, and her brightly colored kangaroo T-shirt. More a big sister than a housekeeper. And above all a friend.
    â€œI don’t know why it’s taking so long,” she was saying. “It’s ridiculous. By the time you get back, you’ll have missed half the semester.”
    â€œThey said they’d have it this afternoon.”
    â€œThey should have had it two days ago.”
    They were talking about Alex’s visa. That morning, Jack had taken a call at the hotel where they were both staying. They had been given an address, a government office in Macquarie Street, just past the old parliament building. The visa would be ready at four o’clock. Alex could pick it up then.
    â€œCould we stay here a couple more days?” Alex asked.
    Jack looked at him curiously. “Don’t you want to go home?” she asked.
    â€œYes.” Alex paused. “I suppose so. But at the same time…I’m not quite sure I’m ready to go back to school. I’ve been thinking about it. I’m sort of worried I’m not going to be able to fit in.”
    â€œOf course you’ll fit in, Alex. You’ve got lots of friends. They’ve all been missing you. Once you’re back, you’ll forget any of this stuff ever happened.”
    But Alex wasn’t so sure. He and Jack had talked about it the evening before. After all he had been through, how could he go back to geography lessons and school lunches and being told off for running too fast down the corridor? The day MI6 had recruited him, they had built a wall between him and his past life, and he wondered if there was now any way back.
    â€œI’ve hardly been to school this year,” he muttered. “I’m way behind.”
    â€œMaybe we can get Mr. Grey to come over this Christmas break,” Jack suggested. Mr. Grey was the teacher who had given Alex extra tutoring during the summer. “You got along well with him, and he’d soon help you catch up.”
    â€œI don’t know, Jack…” Alex looked at the ice cream, melting on his spoon. He wished he could explain how he felt. He didn’t want to work for MI6 again. He was sure of that. But at the same time…
    â€œIt’s three thirty,” Jack said. “We ought to be on our way.”
    They got up and made their way along the side of the opera house and up into the botanical gardens—the incredible park that seemed to contain the city rather than the other way around. Looking back at the harbor, the bustle of life below, and the gleaming skyscrapers stretched out behind, Alex wondered how the Australians had managed to get it all so right. It was impossible not to love Sydney, and despite what Jack had said, he knew he wasn’t ready to leave.
    Together, the two of them made their way up past the gallery of New South Wales and into Macquarie Street, where the parliament building stood, two stories high, an elegant construction of pink and white that somehow reminded Alex of the ice cream he had just eaten. The address they had been given was just beyond, a modern glass block that was presumably filled with minor government offices. The receptionist already had visitor passes waiting for them and directed them to the fourth floor and a room at the end of a corridor.
    â€œI don’t know why they couldn’t have just put you on a plane and sent you out of here,” Jack grumbled as they left the elevator. “It seems a lot of fuss about nothing.”
    There was a door ahead of them. They walked through without knocking and stopped dead in their tracks. There had obviously been some sort of mistake. Wherever they were, this certainly wasn’t a visa