Amber

by Julie Sykes

  ‘Are you sure? Who else has keys? Perhaps one of the teachers came back for something and forgot to lock up again.’

  Dan shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. ‘Only the full-time teachers have keys. They always remember to lock up. Everyone knows to be careful. There is thousands of pounds worth of equipment in here.’

  I shrugged. ‘Mistakes happen. Nothing was stolen, no harm done.’

  Dan was perplexed. ‘No harm done this time! I’ll have to mention it to Mum though. She’ll want to remind everyone to be extra careful. Grand scale theft of the instruments would not be good for the business.’

  Was I a thief? I was used to nice things: people driers, touch screen computers, my beautiful amber necklace. If my memory returned would I want to steal from Dan’s family? Suddenly it was too difficult to be in the same room as him.

  ‘I have to go.’

  ‘Amber…’

  I turned back.

  Dan paused. He looked as if he’d been going to tell me something important but all he said was, ‘I’ll walk with you to Chopin.’

  On the way back Dan told me that students used to keep their instruments in the cabins, until at one summer school, a boy had played his trombone all through the night. ‘He was a genius, but pretty weird with it.’

  ‘Like me?’ I hadn’t meant to speak aloud.

  Dan touched my arm and said huskily, ‘I’d never call you weird.’

  Not now he wouldn’t. But what if Holly spilled my secret? I had an inkling that she was building up to something. What if she decided to go public about me at breakfast, when she had a bigger audience than just Dan? I thought about skipping breakfast but I had to eat at some point. If Holly was going to expose me I might as well get it over with. I got to the dining hall ahead of her. When she finally appeared, with Erin hopping at her heels, she chose a table on the opposite side of the room to Lucy, Josh, Amy, Ellie, George and me. I chewed half-heartedly on a piece of toast. What was she playing at? It didn’t make sense unless, having been made to look stupid once at the hospital, she was biding her time until she had further proof of my weirdness.

  That was it. A simple explanation, but weren’t simple ideas often the best ones? As I swallowed my toast I realised it wasn’t just Holly that I was thinking about now. For weeks I’d struggled to make my mobile phone work. I’d searched for increasingly complicated and sophisticated ways to unlock it. But what if the solution wasn’t complicated at all? Suddenly I had a theory I needed to test. I stacked my half-finished mug of coffee on the plate with the remains of my toast, and stood up.

  ‘Not hungry?’ asked Lucy, who was enthusiastically tucking into a bowl of cereal laced with fresh raspberries.

  ‘Not at all,’ I said truthfully. ‘I’ve a couple of jobs to do before my music lesson. You don’t mind if I go, do you?’

  ‘I think we can manage, can’t we, Josh?’

  Josh looked up from a mug of tea and nodded. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist first thing in the morning.

  ‘See you later, then.’

  ‘Later,’ agreed Lucy, with a wave.

  I ditched my dirty crockery on a trolley then raced back to Chopin. Back in my room I dragged the corner of my bed away from the wall and jammed it against the door, where I sat on it. There was no way anyone would get in without a struggle. I eased my mobile phone out of my pocket. My chest felt so tight I could hardly breathe. It was no good telling myself to calm down. There was too much at stake. If my theory worked, I was on the verge of finding out exactly who I was. I held my hand out flat so that I could see the phone clearly. I focused my mind and asked it to take hold of the phone. Nothing! I might as well have asked the sun to stop shining.

  That wasn’t right. I should be able to use my mind to touch anything I wanted to. I suddenly noticed how tense I was. I took some deep breaths, holding each one in before I huffed the air out. It made me light headed but I could feel my muscles relaxing. I maintained the deep breathing until finally I was able to reach out with my mind and grip the phone.

  Turn on.

  It was that easy. The pale screen lit up obediently. Six empty boxes appeared, each with two words beneath them. I didn’t recognise the language. Frustration bit me so hard that I nearly threw the phone across the room. That wouldn’t help! I shut my eyes and when I reopened them I’d calmed down. Okay, so the blank boxes were for me to fill in a passcode. This was my mobile. I had to know the code! I tapped the first box with my finger. A small keypad appeared on screen. I trusted my mind to help, giving it full control of my fingers. After a few seconds my fingers started to type. They moved so fast that I only caught the first two letters of the password – the letter ‘A’ followed by the letter ‘M’. It had to be coincidence; they were also the first letters of my new name!

  The boxes disappeared from the screen. A tiny dot appeared in the centre and from it an explosion of colour rained down the screen. Next a menu flashed up, a stack of square boxes in a variety of colours. Each box had an identifying icon in the middle and a foreign word I didn’t recognise underneath. Two of the boxes had a violent purple number attached to their top corner, the number ten and the number six.

  I stared at the screen. What did it mean? The harder I tried to work it out the bigger the puzzle became. At last I stepped back from the problem. It was hard, but for ages I forced myself to simply sit and look at the screen. Then, unbelievably, the fog cleared. My heart lifted. I grinned like an idiot. I understood the writing underneath the icons.

  The rectangular symbol, with the wavy line, had the word ‘phone’ written beneath it and the large purple six meant that I’d missed that many calls. The dots, arranged in a pyramid, had the word ‘texts’ under it. I had ten. I swallowed fearfully as my finger hovered over the screen. Here I was, merely seconds away from learning my true identity. And what then? Would that knowledge blow my world apart for a second time? The pressure in my head was like a band of iron slowly tightening. For a long time I didn’t move. Curiosity won out. I had to know.

  So what should I look at first, text messages or missed calls? That was easy. I needed information before I could cope with speaking to someone from my past. With trembling hands, I pressed the text messages icon.

  Twelve

  I skipped my flute lesson with Mr Mason. I excused myself by saying that I had a headache. It was almost the truth. There was so much stuff in my brain that it was at bursting point. While everyone else crowded into the practice rooms I slipped away. I followed the trees hemming the east side of the loch until I found a secluded spot by the water. I sat down, with my back propped against a tree trunk, and stared across the lake while my scattered thoughts assembled into some kind of order.

  The texts had told me everything. Yet nothing. My first name was Amara, my travelling companion, Nell. Somewhere out there, two people were missing us: Tor and Nardo. Their names were blank spaces. I tried hard to remember them but I couldn’t. Nardo had signed his name with two kisses. His text wasn’t personal so I hoped that we were just friends. It felt weird enough not remembering Amara. I didn’t need her boyfriend to cope with as well. The big question though, the one I wanted answered more than anything else in the world, was this. What had I got myself into?

  While the initial texts from Tor and Nardo were the kind of stuff that friends might send, the last one, that arrived just minutes before I worked out how to access my phone, was frankly more… sinister. Maybe I was being paranoid but I didn’t think so. When you looked at the evidence things didn’t look great for me. I had no other messages on my mobile at all. My address book was empty. What kind of person has a totally empty address book? Even geeks have contacts. So unless the mobile had been damaged in the accident, the only explanation was that the phone was one I was using for something illicit.

  I pulled it out of my pocket. I tapped the messages icon and scrolled
through Tor’s texts until I reached his last one.

  Need to know you are on task and have not been compromised. RING ME.

  I stared at the screen and my lips soundlessly repeated the words.

  Need to know you are on task.

  What task? How might I be compromised? Who exactly was I? Junior spy or…

  I forced myself to say the word out loud: ‘Criminal.’

  All at once I was taken with a sudden urge to hurl the mobile phone into the water. I didn’t have to be Amara. I was Amber now. I had new friends and a new life. But even as I swung my arm back, desperate to consign the phone to the very deepest part of Loch Calness, I knew it didn’t work like that. I could hide from my past. But one day, probably when I least expected it, my past would find me again. It was better to confront it and deal with it now. When things were sorted out and I’d paid for any misdemeanours that I’d committed, then I could carry on being Amber.

  The first step was to ring Tor. Panic clenched my stomach. What would I say? How could I even begin to explain to a stranger, by phone, what had happened to Nell and me? Maybe I should text him first? It wasn’t a coward’s solution, not given the circumstances. Texting was a good idea. I’d ask to meet up. When I saw a familiar face my memory might return and all this madness finally make sense. My finger hovered over the screen. What if I texted Tor and he rang me back? How awkward would that be? I suppose I didn’t have to answer, but it would look suspicious if I didn’t. I called up Nardo’s texts and re-read them. They were less formal than Tor’s. They came with kisses. Nardo sounded like a friend, whereas Tor seemed more like the boss. It would be better to make contact with Nardo first. I composed and deleted several texts before I found the right words.

  Having a few difficulties. Can we meet?

  Then, before I could change my mind, I quickly hit ‘send’.

  Nardo must have been sitting on his mobile. I nearly had a heart attack when a minute later a text pinged back.

  Tomorrow. Rosie’s Cafe. Balochry. 1.30 p.m. Nxx

  Tomorrow! But that was good, wasn’t it?

  When I’d woken up in hospital, all those weeks ago, I would have given anything to know who I was. Now I wasn’t so sure. I‘d got used to this new me. I liked being Amber. I loved my new life. Would I like the old one as much? A thousand questions crowded into my head. I seized on ones that came with answers. I called up the internet on my phone and discovered that Balochry was a Highland town, approximately 65 kilometres from Kirkgreen. There was a bus that went from Kirkgreen to Edinburgh, and a train from there to Balochry. Now I needed an excuse to leave Waterside for a day. It wasn’t long before my devious brain came up with a plan. Claudia and her parents were travelling in the area. I would tell Mia and Jeff that I’d been invited to join them.

  I hated lying to the Marshalls, especially when both Mia and Jeff offered to drive me to Edinburgh where I’d said that I was meeting Claudia. They were really persuasive and I had a hard time convincing them I’d rather make my own way there. Lucy thought I was mad.

  ‘You seriously want to catch a bus when someone’s offering you a lift?’ she asked, as we queued in the dining hall for lunch.

  ‘At least let me drive you to the Kirkgreen bus stop,’ said Dan, who’d joined the queue behind us.

  I thought about refusing. I’d been going to call a taxi, but something in the way he was looking at me made it impossible. ‘That would be great, thanks.’

  Dan’s smile lit up his blue eyes. It was nice how pleased he seemed.

  ‘Hi Dan,’ Holly joined the queue behind him. She touched his arm and her perfect red nails skimmed across his tanned skin. ‘What’s for lunch?’

  A muscle twitched in Dan’s jaw. In a friendly voice he answered, ‘Hot dogs, I think.’

  ‘In that case I’ll just grab a salad. Hi, Amber,’ Holly’s gaze slid over to me and speared me dead. ‘That was really something this morning.’

  My insides stilled. After breakfast, I’d convinced myself that Holly was biding her time and waiting for more evidence before she busted my secret. I must have severely overestimated her ability to keep quiet.

  To overestimate the enemy is arguably more dangerous than to underestimate him or her.

  As the words ran through my head I had a fleeting memory of where I’d first heard them, but it was gone before I could catch it.

  A small smile played at Holly’s lips. I kept my face impassive. I was determined not to give her the satisfaction of reacting when she told everyone what she’d seen. But Holly was like a sharp-clawed cat with a tiny mouse and she hadn’t finished playing with me yet.

  ‘What?’ asked Lucy. ‘What was really something?’

  Holly’s eyes never left mine. ‘Amber and her flute. Ask her to show you what she can do with it sometime.’

  ‘The bus station is over there.’ Dan pulled up his car alongside the pavement and switched off the engine. ‘Shall I walk you over the road?’

  I looked out of the window. The bus stop wasn’t what I’d expected. It was very primitive and consisted of a metal pole with a sign at the top.

  ‘I’ll be fine from here, but thanks for the lift.’

  ‘Anytime. I’ll drive you to Edinburgh if you want.’

  ‘Thanks, but…’ I chose my words with care. ‘It’s time I started doing things for myself.’

  I reached for the door but for some reason, probably nerves, I couldn’t get it open. Dan unfastened his seat belt and stretched a muscular arm across me to help me. As the door swung wide he reached out and ran his finger lightly down my cheek.

  ‘Amber,’ he stared into my eyes. ‘You don’t have to be alone. If you need anything, or you want a lift back from Edinburgh, call me.’

  I almost melted. I had a sudden urge to grab his hand and ask him to drive me to Balochry and meet Nardo with me. Guilt gnawed at my stomach. I hated lying to Dan again, but I couldn’t tell him the truth until I knew what I was hiding.

  I was early for the bus and the only person waiting at the stop. On the other side of the road Dan went into the newsagent. He turned and waved as he disappeared inside. My hand strayed to my face as I remembered his touch. I ached for everything to turn out right. I wanted Nardo and Tor to be friends, and for the whole spy or criminal thing to be either a stupid game, or the crackpot result of a mind damaged by a traumatic accident. I wasn’t aware that a dark saloon had pulled up alongside me until the passenger’s window slid down. A bald-headed, middle-aged man called out, ‘Excuse me lass. The bus has been delayed. Would you like a lift somewhere?’

  I checked my watch. I’d planned to get to the train station early so I still had plenty of time. On the other hand, I could grab Dan when he came out of the newsagents and ask him to drive me to Edinburgh. With a polite smile I answered, ‘No, thanks.’

  I was watching out for Dan and was unprepared for the speed with which the man jumped out of the car. He wrapped me in a steely grip and bundled me onto the back seat. It took a few seconds to realise I was being kidnapped. I lashed out with my feet but it was too late. They crunched against the car door as it slammed shut.

  ‘Help!’ I screamed.

  I banged on the window with one hand while I fumbled for the door handle with the other.

  ‘Sit down. Shut up!’ As the car sped away Baldy turned to face me. I would have happily argued with him but not with the small black handgun he was pointing at me.

  My heart raced and blood sang in my ears. I felt light-headed and detached. It was almost as if the drama was happening to someone else. After a few seconds something clicked inside me. The turmoil stilled and my head cleared. I quickly stared out of the window to memorise the route we were travelling. We left Kirkgreen on the opposite side of the town to the one I was familiar with. At the roundabout we took the third exit off the roundabout and entered a dual carriageway. The road was si
gned Livingstone and Bathgate. Baldy turned in his seat. His neck and head flushed a violent shade of red. ‘Get down,’ he bellowed and waved the gun in my face.

  I bowed my head but not quickly enough. Baldy hit me between the shoulder blades with the gun’s handle. ‘Right down! On the floor and stay there. She was reading the road signs,’ he explained to the driver.

  My back hurt like hell. Resentment curdled in my gut. I crouched on the floor, with my knees drawn up, and hoped that I wasn’t going to be sick. The car sped on. It lurched round corners and crashed over bumps in the road. I knew that Baldy still had his gun trained on me. I hoped he had a steady finger. Something, from the hidden depths of my memory, informed me that the gun didn’t have a safety catch. After a long, agonising ride the car slowed and then turned left. The road surface changed from smooth to bumpy. I gritted my teeth. We were travelling along some kind of lane or driveway. The car slowed, turned and, thankfully, jolted to a stop.

  ‘We’re here,’ said Baldy, as the engine died. ‘You can get up now.’

  I stared apprehensively out of the window. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. We were parked on the gravelled drive of a neat stone house with a grey slate roof. Baldy trained the gun at my head. ‘Empty your pockets.’

  Much as I wanted to refuse to co-operate I wasn’t that stupid. I meekly handed over my purse.

  ‘And the rest.’

  It had been worth a try! With a greater reluctance I gave up my mobile phone. Money was easy to replace but the phone was my only means of communication with the people from my past. I wondered if Baldy and his friend knew who I was. It wasn’t a comfortable thought.

  ‘Get out of the car. Slowly. No sudden moves.’

  I didn’t like the way Baldy’s hand shook, so I did as he’d asked, with an emphasis on slow. It was no surprise that the house was set in the middle of a large garden, bordered with hedges and trees. There weren’t any houses near by, so no neighbours to hear my cries for help. The driver unlocked the front door, wiggling the key when it got stuck. He was tall, with fair hair, pale blue eyes and fleshy bags of skin underneath. There was something familiar about him. I tried to recall if he came from my old life or my new one, as he forced the door open with his shoulder.