The question was apparently rhetorical because, without waiting for an answer, she launched into a colourful epic, filled with lurid particulars of her adventures in June’s room, but he wasn’t listening, just sitting there with an expression of what he hoped was rapt attention on his face. Behind the façade however, his mind was working furiously.

It has not been easy to give in to their demand to accompany them, although the alternative career path of ‘being dumped’ he had been presented with had certainly helped. But the fact remained that he was giving up his life for that of a fugitive, forever on the run from the law. Unless, of course, they ran into it on the way to running from it, which seemed fairly likely, considering June hadn’t sounded too confident about the trip to begin with. Yet again, the image of Bosquanet forced its way into his mind. Albert imagined those eyes looking at him—that clear, strong, chilling voice asking him what he was doing—and couldn’t resist an involuntary shudder. No wonder the Head had been afraid. He was too. But there wasn’t really an alternative. He was a fugitive already; the law was looking for him. She was looking for him. There was no winning from here, not that he could see.

Wearily, he shook his head, leaning back against the arm of his chair, even as the bedroom door opened and Ollie made his way out. ‘That’s right, take the load off your legs while you can, lad! But R&R’s done for the day now, so best look slippy, eh?’

Albert blinked, looking up at him. ‘When do we go?’ he blurted out.

Ollie beamed back and went on. ‘Well, isn’t that what I came to tell you! No time like the present, lad! We’re going now.’

‘Now?’

‘Cool!’ said Theo, jumping to her feet. ‘Let’s go!’

A lot of words came into Albert’s mind, but cool wasn’t one of them. He turned to Ollie. ‘You mean, right now?’

‘Aye, right now. At this very moment in time, so to speak. So get a move on, boy!’

Albert went straight from being draped across the arm of his chair to standing up, the last vestiges of fatigue vanishing in less time than it took him to get there, replaced by the thrill of—what was it? Fear? Excitement? Maybe a bit of both.

Ollie winked at him. The chap seemed to spend half his life with one eye shut. ‘Bit o’ nerves, eh? That’s good. Fear will keep you alive. If it doesn’t kill you first.’

‘That’s right, Ollie, fill him with confidence,’ June said, coming into the room through the bedroom door. She had swapped her dress for a hooded jacket and trousers.