"That's confidential," Frank said.

"Confidential, me arse. Is that your sister, love?"

"Don't look at me," I said. "This is Frank's gig. I'm only getting dragged along for the ride."

"You wouldn't want to mind him. Here--" She took another look at the photo and held it out to Frank at arm's length. "That's bleeding disgusting, so it is. Would you not think of doing something decent, Francis? Sorting out the traffic, something useful like that. Took me two hours to get into town from--"

"Would you ever just cut, Jackie?" Frank demanded, raking his hair exasperatedly so that it stood up in tufts. "And stop wrecking my head?" Jackie's eyes slid sideways to mine and we shared a tiny, mischievous, female grin.

"And remember," Frank said belligerently, noticing, "keep your mouth shut about this. Clear? It's crucial."

"Ah, yeah," Jackie said, pulling a comb and scissors out of her bag. "Crucial. Go and make us a cup of tea, will you? That's if you don't mind, love," she added, to me.

Frank shook his head and stamped off to the sink. Jackie combed my hair down over my eyes and winked at me.

When she was finished I looked different. I had never had my fringe cropped that short before; it was a subtle thing, but it made my face younger and barer, gave it the big-eyed, deceptive innocence of a model's. The longer I stared in the bathroom mirror, that night while I got ready for bed, the less it looked like me. When I hit the point where I couldn't remember what I had looked like to begin with, I gave up, gave the mirror the finger and went to bed.

* * *

On Saturday afternoon Frank said, "I think we're just about good to go."

I was lying back on the sofa with my knees hooked over the arm, going through the photos of Lexie's tutorial groups one last time and trying to look blase about this whole thing. Frank was pacing: the closer you get to the start of an operation, the less he sits down.

"Tomorrow," I said. The word burned in my mouth, a wild clean burn like snow, taking my breath away.

"Tomorrow afternoon--we'll start you off with a half day, ease you into it. I'll let the housemates know this evening, make sure they're all there to give you a nice warm welcome. Think you're ready?"

I couldn't imagine what, on an operation like this, could possibly constitute "ready." "Ready as I'll ever be," I said.

"Let's hear it once more: what's your goal for Week One?"

"Not to get caught, mainly," I said. "And not to get killed."

"Not mainly; only." Frank snapped his fingers in front of my eyes on his way past. "Hey. Concentrate. This is important."

I put the photos down on my stomach. "I'm concentrating. What?"