3: Summer

Ewart dropped them off opposite the main building on campus.

"Go straight in," he said. "She'll probably be waiting."

"Can't I go back to my room and get changed?" Beatrice asked. "I still stink of sick."

Ewart thought for a moment. "Right, in that case, you should both go and get changed into clean uniforms before going down to see the chairwoman. I'm sure she'll understand you not wanting to make her office smell."

George would have preferred a six-hour nap followed by a leisurely lunch, but he wasn't about to argue, so he got out of the car and slammed the door rather harder than necessary and set off at a walk.

"Meet you at the lift in fifteen?" Beatrice asked, catching up with him.

"Yeah, I don't fancy going down by myself," George replied. "Any guesses how much trouble we're in?"

Beatrice laughed, but it sounded forced. "We'll find out."

A two minute shower and fresh set of clothes later, George and Beatrice made their way down to the chairwoman's office. Both of them had been in there before to be handed punishments, but they'd still made an extra effort to look smart and Beatrice had found time to brush her hair.

"Wait here, please," the receptionist said as they approached, pointing to a couple of soft chairs against the wall. George had been expecting to go straight in, so he was surprised to be asked to wait.

"She's just finishing with the others," the receptionist explained curtly before going back to typing something on her computer.

There was a no talking rule when you were sitting outside Zara's office, so George and Beatrice just had to exchange meaningful glances. The office itself was soundproofed so that nobody could overhear top-secret conversations, so the room was silent except for the tapping of the receptionist's keyboard.

It took ten minutes before the door to the office opened, followed by a column of Cherubs trooping out, all looking miserable. George recognised most of them from the mission. but when he spotted Letty and caught her eye, but she just shrugged at him and walked off.

"George, Beatrice, come in," Zara said sharply once everyone had left, standing in the doorway looking unhappy.

With a sinking feeling, George realised that he and Beatrice were in the worst possible position. Zara was known for being inconsistent with her punishments, and usually the more tired and irritable she was, the worse they got. After spending half an hour lecturing everyone else, she was in the worst possible mood for handing out punishments.

George and Beatrice sat down opposite Zara, both shrinking into their chairs as they caught sight of Zara's expression. She waited until the door had clicked shut before saying anything, and when she finally did, everything about her tone chilled George to the bone. He'd always known Zara as sounding friendly, or occasionally exasperated, but now she spoke quietly and in a businesslike manner which was more effective than the loudest shouting.

"CHERUB received a phone call from Sussex Police this morning. As I'm sure you're aware, a squad car mysteriously disappeared last night and turned up four miles away, with a mangled front impact bumper and a lump of a bollard wedged in the chassis. This bollard appears to match a totally destroyed one close to the seafront. Normally they would have written this off as an opportunist joyrider and we'd have pulled the investigation, but a smart cop retrieved DNA evidence from the car which took him to a classified database. Every time a search is logged on this database, the heads of the security services are notified. I have had some very embarrassing explaining to do to some of my colleagues about why two twelve-year-olds were caught on CCTV roaming the streets in a stolen police car and why they had to take time out of their busy schedules to find out about it.

"While nobody is prepared to admit it, I have good evidence that some of you, if not all of you, were drinking alcohol, and I should not need to impress upon you the fact that drink-driving is extremely dangerous, especially in an unfamiliar car in an unfamiliar area. I personally consider it a minor miracle that you didn't have a more serious accident, or worse, injure a member of the public."

"There was hardly anyone around-" Beatrice interrupted, but stopped when Zara gave her a glare.

"I don't care if there was hardly anyone around," Zara replied, slamming her hand onto the tabletop. "If you'd killed someone or yourselves you'd have seriously endangered the existence of CHERUB and all of the good work being done right this second by your fellow Cherubs who are away on missions. To me, that is a serious lack of respect. If I had my way, drink-driving would be on the list of things that could get you expelled from CHERUB, especially when it is totally unnecessary like this. I have no qualms about telling you two that if I had my way, you two would be packing your bags and making a one-way trip out of the door."

George and Beatrice were in shock. George had heard expulsion threats before, but it was a totally different matter when the chairwoman was saying she wished you'd been thrown out. There were a few seconds of silence as Zara surveyed the pair of them before continuing.

"As it is, and despite both of you having shaky disciplinary records, when I rang the ethics committee earlier this morning, they mostly supported the two of you remaining as CHERUB agents. It goes without saying that an incident like this must never, ever happen again, and the two of you are on your final warnings. If I see you in my office ever again for a punishment, mark my words, you will be expelled. Is that absolutely clear?"

George nodded, but Beatrice didn't move. George could see her hand shaking slightly on the arm of the chair.

"Now, your punishments. Obviously both of you have lost your hostel privileges this summer and you'll both be suspended from missions for six months. Additionally, you'll both be confined to campus and will be expected to do a three-hour shift in the recycling centre every day for the duration of your suspensions. Both of you will be expected to attend a six-lecture series on the danger of addictive substances, which, I understand, comes with a fifty-page project at the end, and George, since you were actually behind the wheel, you're banned from any vehicle-related activities on campus until this is completed."

It didn't take much thought for George to realise that he was in the most trouble of his entire life and that the punishment reflected this. The next six months were going to be miserable and he knew he only had himself to blame, which only worsened his mood.

Zara finally broke into a smile, but it did nothing to reassure George, since the smile was not a friendly one.

"Finally, I understand how hard it can be, being stuck on campus during the summer hostel trips, so the two of you will be departing for recruitment missions come tomorrow morning. Beatrice, you'll be heading for Southport, near Liverpool, and George, you'll be moving into a childrens' home in Barking, east London. You'll get your briefings when you get there, and perhaps while you're there you'll reflect on his you could have been going to the Mediterranean instead. Any questions?"

George and Beatrice said nothing, so Zara pointed to the door.

"Now get out, and remember; if you're back in here any time in the next six years, you're out for good."

It was still early on Sunday morning, so most of the other Cherubs were still in bed, meaning that nobody was around as they made their way back to their rooms in a daze. The enormity of his upcoming punishment still hadn't sunk in by the time he was walking down the corridor to his room, having got all the way back without saying a word to Beatrice.

"Oh, I thought it might be you. What happened?" Letty asked as he approached, sticking her head out from her bedroom door.

George just shook his head. He was in no mood for the typical Cherub attitude of making fun of other people's punishments.

"I knew it! You did something stupid again!" Letty grinned, punching the air. "I knew you couldn't go on a straightforward mission without doing something you regretted."

George ignored her, but the smug grin on her face was too much to bear. "Why don't you just shut up for a change? Nobody cares about your stupid bloody opinions," he snapped, fumbling with his door key. "Go and find someone who cares."

"You don't have to act like a five-year-old," Letty replied hotly, giving him a vicious punch in the back just as he got the door open.

Spinning around, George lashed out with a kick, but Letty dodged it and he overbalanced, falling backwards and cracking his head on the door handle.

Letting out a sudden laugh, Letty covered her mouth and tried to act shocked, but George was beyond reconciliation. He swore loudly, trying to see if his head was bleeding, but when Letty reached over to help him up, he slapped her hand away.

"You can stick it, Letty. Don't bother talking to me again," he raged, slamming his bedroom door in her shocked face before locking it and throwing himself onto his bed. He felt like crying and punching things simultaneously, but he thought he was too old to be crying and his head was absolutely killing him. With nothing else to do, he just lay on his bed, face buried in the pillow, trying not to think about anything.

After he'd calmed down a bit, he took a long shower and made sure that the bump on his head was nothing more than that. Twenty minutes relaxing took the edge off the pain, so afterwards he felt well enough to cook some instant burritos in the microwave and ate them in front of the TV. Someone knocked on the door, but he just ignored it, and after a while he closed the curtains and went back to bed, falling asleep before he could think very much more about his miserable future.

He woke up in a daze just before dinner, but he didn't want to go to the cafeteria because he knew he'd get nothing but jokes at his expense. Instead he made more burritos and sat under his duvet playing FIFA on his PlayStation, taking out his frustrations by playing on the easiest difficulty and firing thirteen goals past a hopeless Chelsea side. He got involved in a campaign and ended up whiling away the entire evening guiding QPR to a league and cup double. He didn't feel tired enough to go to sleep when it got late, so once he'd got bored of FIFA he channel-hopped until he found a dodgy reality show. He dug out his phone and ignored all of the messages from his friends, only reading the one which said he'd be getting a lift to the station at 9am sharp the following morning. Sulking wasn't cool but he couldn't handle explaining himself to anyone, especially after being nasty to Letty. Grudgingly, he set his alarm for eight and snuggled back under his duvet, feeling increasingly miserable by the minute. It seemed impossible to think that less than forty-eight hours earlier he'd been sitting in the sun, wondering if life could possibly get any better. He'd completely blown it, and it wasn't the first time, so he couldn't help but thinking if it wasn't inevitable for him to do something else stupid before long and get himself kicked out. He didn't think he'd be able to handle living a normal school life, especially since he'd have to make new friends and actually learn to behave himself. That idea was almost worse than six months suspended from missions, so he decided to make the best of it and try not to do anything that could get him thrown out. Then he again remembered with a jolt what he'd done to Letty and felt miserable all over again.