Chapter 8
Night had fallen when Britt finally woke up. She looked around her cautiously. She could remember running from a gang of kids. She could remember falling in the alleyway. She even had a vague memory of waking up and seeing a someone leaning over her. Someone with piercing grey eyes. The last memory, of someone picking her up and carrying her out of the alley, was the vaguest of all; but it must have happened because here she was, lying on a camp-bed in the midst of a small, dark room. The only light creeping through the darkness was the greyish glow of moonlight through the clouds she could see out of a small window.
After a while, her eyes began to get used to the poor light and shapes became vaguely discernible. There was a table in the room, with a bowl and a glass jug of some clear liquid, like water. A door broke the matte grey line of the wall opposite and there was another, smaller table beside it. On her other side, there was a large beanbag, upon which a boy lay sleeping. In the shadowy darkness, Britt could barely make out his features but what she could see gave her the impression that he was about her own age. Whether he was the boy who had leant over her, she could not tell: the only things she remembered about that face were the eyes.
Slowly, carefully, Britt sat up in the camp-bed. She tried to make the least noise possible, but the bed was old and creaked loudly. The figure on the beanbag stirred, but didn't wake. Britt turned round to look behind her at the rest of the table with the water on it. There was also something that looked like bread and cheese under a clear plastic dome cover. Getting out of the bed, Britt made her way over to the table. Hidden behind the bowl, beside the water, was a glass and small towel. In the bowl itself was a small flannel.
Britt poured some water into the bowl and washed her face. The cold water felt good against her skin, washing away the dust and sweat of the race she had been running before she passed out. Pouring some of the water into the glass, she drank deeply: she hadn't realised how thirsty she was until the water touched her lips. Finishing the glass in one draught, she refilled it and moved along the table to the food. As she had thought, there was a clear, plastic, dome-shaped cover over the bread, just like the one her mother had used to keep the flies off the sandwiches at summer parties. Setting the cover to one side, Britt cut off a slice of cheese with an old, rather blunt knife lying nearby and tore off a chunk of bread.
The bread was slightly dry, but good enough and not yet stale. The cheese was a strong cheddar that, in the morning light, might turn out to be a deep orange in hue but, for now, was reduced to a slightly warmer shade of greyness than the table itself. Britt sipped at the water and nibbled at the bread and cheese as she took in her surroundings. Her eyes were now fully adjusted to the light and she could see that the room she was in looked like it had once been a rather small office. In the corner behind the table, out of sight of the silvery-grey light seeping through the window, was a bulky, old, grey, metal filing cabinet. The table on which the food and water were situated now appeared to be a desk and, sitting tucked under the far side of it, was what looked like an office chair: the kind that goes up and down, swirls round in circles and had wheels on the bottom, simply to make your working environment comfortable, easy to work in and, in most cases, much more fun! Britt walked round to the far side of the desk and, as quietly as she could, pulled out the chair and sat down.
There were a couple of drawers on either side of her. All, it seemed, were locked. Britt turned her attention back to the food on the table and, pulling the board with the bread and cheese on it towards her, cut herself some more cheese and tore off some more bread. Eventually, hunger subsided into drowsiness and Britt found her eyelids becoming heavy. She considered getting up and moving back to the camp-bed, but the chair really was so comfortable and she would only make a lot of noise and she might even wake the boy on the beanbag... As her head came to rest on her arms, folded on the desk before her, she felt sleep overcome her once more.
The figure on the beanbag smiled, then turned onto his other side and went back to sleep.
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Cat had never been a good sleeper. Sure, once she had gone without sleep for a few days, she would eventually burn out and sleep like a log for as long as you let her, but until then, she would grab a few hours each night, in between bouts of wakefulness. Her first night in the mall was no different. She had been late to bed, having stayed up to make sure the computer was working properly and had loaded up all her initial software, had slept for a while and now was wide awake again. The computer was off and the entire room still. Anni was asleep in the smaller shoe shop just across the corner of the walkway outside, while Say and Christy slept in the two stores at the opposite end. The others were on the floor below: Amy in the three small rooms of Monsoon and Accessorise; Dee in the large Reiss shop opposite; and Bobbi, babbling quietly to herself amidst dreams of shoes, in the larger shoe shop on the corner by Amy's stores.
Cat felt her stomach complain. She was hungry. She was always hungry if she woke up in the middle of the night and it was not unheard of for her to have eaten her breakfast halfway between going to bed and getting up again! Easing herself out of her cocoon of a sleeping bag, she pulled on her glasses and slipper socks and tiptoed across the floor. As she reached the door, she paused.
She was sure she had heard a noise.
Easing herself along into the shadow of the doorway, she peered round the edge of the short, tunnel-like corridor leading into the store.
Silence.
Then she heard it again: a faint, gentle clink, like a cup on a saucer.
As she watched, she saw a head appear above the side of the walkway barrier and the escalator to the floor above: someone was coming up the escalator from the floor below. Cat ducked back a little and watched as Dee made her way up the now immobile stairway, one hand balancing a plate with a glass and some cutlery on it and the other carrying a large bowl. Turning to face Cat, briefly, then continuing up the next escalator, Dee was clearly visible as the hazy light of the moon and stars filtered through the habitual layer of cloud that hung over the city at this time of year and the wide glass roof of the mall atrium.
Slowly and quietly, Cat slipped out of her hiding place and followed Dee up the stairs. The former cadet was so intent upon keeping the glass upon the plate that the idea that she may have been followed never entered her head. When Dee reached the top of the escalator, however, Cat, still some distance behind, lost sight of her. Keeping low, she hastened up the stairs and, at the top, looked around cautiously. But Dee was nowhere to be seen.
Cat stood up and had a good look round, straining her eyes in the half light. The shadows, however, contained nothing more than shadow and Dee appeared to have vanished.
Cat made her way back down the stairs, somewhat half-heartedly, and into her own room. All thought of food, or sleep, now forgotten, she waited patiently for Dee to return. In about ten minutes, just as boredom was about to set in, Dee appeared on the escalator, heading back down. Whatever had been in the bowl was now gone and the glass was now empty. Oblivious to her observer, Dee turned the corner and continued down the lower escalator to the floor below. Cat paused for a moment, considering what she had seen, then went back to bed.
