The coach reaches the International Gallery in the morning, where the Mona Lisa stays until her return to Paris. It's exciting that we're the first ones to see her. Mr Chandra walks up the steps first and stands in front of us. The building behind him has tall columns holding the roof up, and it looks like it originated in Ancient Greece. Of course, it wouldn't have come from there, but it gives that sort of vibe. I wonder if the other officers will like coming here? Going out on day trips could help them understand the modern world better. Mrs Taylor stands with us as we listen to him speak. "Right, hand your phones in at Reception, and no running." Of course, most students take the "no running" as "let's run as fast as possible to the entrance and get in first". My group is one of them. "No running! We're here as honoured guests, not like some hormonal SAS." We get into Reception and hand our phones in.

The room smells of cleaning products; they must've cleaned it before we arrived. Other than us, there is barely anyone around. At the front desk are all sorts of things on sale, postcards, guidebooks, mugs, and free maps. "Freebies!" Clyde says, and dashes for the maps. He picks one up and shows it to us. Everyone puts their phones in the box, but I notice Catalina, Anne, and Anna keep hold of theirs. I put mine in the box.
"I'll pass, thanks."
"Your loss. Anyway, what did Sarah Jane and Ruby say about me winning this prize?" Clyde stashes the map in his bag before he slings it over his shoulder again. We start walking, sticking to our group and not really interacting with anyone else.
"Nothing. We're not really talking."
"What happened?" I ask.
"They're being such... mums."
"Yeah, well, it's probably best Sarah Jane doesn't know." Clyde accidentally walks into Mr Chandra, who turns to us with a startled look on his face.
"Careful, Clyde. Even star pupils need to watch where they're going."
"Sir."
"So, how are you feeling? Er, nervous?"
"Weirded out. I mean, teachers are never this friendly." I share an amused glance with the other queens, and Anne chuckles and shakes her head.
"You see, diligence has its rewards." Mr Chandra places an arm around Clyde. "Perhaps now you'll put the same enthusiasm into your other schoolwork- and hopefully, be a good role model to Emma."

A woman approaches Mr Chandra. She has jaw-length brown hair and has red glasses. She is wearing a beige cardigan and a matching blouse with a grey skirt. "Mr Chandra?" She asks. "Park Vale?"
"Yes." Mr Chandra lets Clyde go and turns his attention to the woman. He shakes hands with her.
"Mr Harding will receive you upstairs."
"Great."
"Come this way."
"Okay, everyone, follow me." We walk across the vast reception room and up the stairs. I noticed a matching staircase on the other side of the room.

We head into one of the galleries, and there are photographs of the Mona Lisa everywhere. I ignore the pictures as best as possible and look at the other works of art. One of them is a Chinese puzzle lock, and it looks well-carved. Whoever created it was a genius. Catalina, Anne, Jane, Anna, and Kitty also gather around it. "The puzzle lock doesn't fit in with anything else in this room," Anne says, looking around. On the walls are all sorts of artwork, mostly of people. All the other objects date to ancient times, and I note that Anne is right.
"Maybe they accidentally placed it in the wrong room?" I suggest.
"Maybe," Anne sounds sceptical, "but it doesn't look like it's meant to be art at all." Anne picks it up.
"Careful!" Jane hisses, grabbing Anne's hands and slowly moving the puzzle lock back to its podium. "It's an art gallery. You're not supposed to pick it up either, okay? You look, you don't touch."
"This isn't art," I say, "it's something else."
"Are you getting a weird vibe from it?"
"Something like that."

Mr Chandra walks back over, followed by the woman from earlier and another person. The man has short, greying hair, and is wearing a chequered white shirt, a blue bow tied and a matching blazer, and grey trousers. This must be the Mr Harding Mr Chandra talked about yesterday. "Clyde?" Mr Chandra asks, and Clyde looks over at the group before walking over to join them. "This is Mr Harding, curator of the gallery. Clyde Langer. We're really proud of him."
"Congratulations, Clyde," Mr Harding says, shaking Clyde's hand. Mr Harding has a warm smile, and I can feel the warmth radiating from him. "You're very talented."
"Such a handsome boy," the woman from earlier says.
"Oh, this is my assistant, Miss Trupp. Now..." Mr Harding is unable to finish his sentence as Miss Trupp shakes Clyde's hand.
"You really are so gifted, Clyde."
"Cheers."
"As soon as I saw your picture, I knew you'd win. It wasn't up to me, of course, but if it had been, you'd have won. Well, you did! So... it all turned out for the best." Rani, Luke, the queens, and I join them.
"These are my friends, Rani Chandra, Luke Smith-White, and the six ex-wives of King Henrat the Eighth. Of course, Catalina, Anne, Jane, Anna, Kitty, and Emma don't like talking about it, so we normally refer to them as "Six" if we want to get all their attention."
"Well, it works," Catalina agrees, and the rest of us nod.
"Miss Trupp, perhaps you should go and check the final preparations," Mr Harding says.
"Oh, yes." I noticed how Miss Trupp's face fell before she left us.
"Big day for us all. Clyde, follow me." Mr Harding leads us back through the room. "Your masterpiece awaits!"

Mr Harding leads us into another room with lots of art hanging on the walls. Most of it is abstract and by artists I've never heard of. "And here we are," Mr Harding says, "in pride of place." We look to the centre of the room, where a wall displays one lone piece of art. It is quite long, and I can see why. There are nine figures in the picture, and I instantly recognise each of them and where they are. Clyde has drawn the Titanic officers on the officer's promenade of the RMS Titanic. Even K-9 is there wearing a White Star Line cap. I notice other details, such as Charles Lightoller holding a Sontaran blaster, James Moody holding a thick book in his hands, Harold Lowe holding a gun, and Will and Emma holding hands. I feel my heart warm when I see the picture. Did Luke pick this picture on purpose? If he did, he picked well.

"No way," Clyde breathes when he sees his picture.
"Is something wrong?" Mr Harding asks.
"It's just... my work in a proper gallery."
"We told you, Clyde," Luke says, "it's brilliant." We start applauding Clyde, and some even cheering. Some people start chanting, but Clyde tells them to shut up.
"Agreed," Mr Chandra, "some order, please." Mrs Taylor cheers. 'Mrs Taylor.' Of course, the teachers should set the example.
"Apart from the obvious artistic flair," Mr Harding begins, "your imagination is so impressive. The detail in the weaponry! I don't know where you get your inspiration. Please," he says to the other students, and they all start looking around the gallery.

"It's beautiful," I breathe, admiring the painting.
"They're Sontaran blasters, aren't they?" Luke asks.
"Well spotted," Clyde says.
"That's why you didn't want Mum and Mummy to know."
"Yeah. Oh, and don't tell her I've drawn K-9 multiple times, either." Clyde sighs. "You know, I always used to play this sort of stuff down. I thought people would laugh at me."
"Look around, Clyde," I say, "no one is laughing."
"When I was younger, no siblings, I used to draw for company. But maybe I can do something with this."

"And so, to the prize," Mr Harding interrupts us. "Prepare to meet the Mona Lisa!" He leads us out of the room. I look back to see Clyde's painting one more time before we walk back into the corridor and another room. Wood panelling lines the walls, and again, there are a lot of paintings. However, all the paintings are of people this time. Before us is a wall with a red velvet curtain around a painting. The painting behind the curtains must be the Mona Lisa. The tiled floor between the door and the wall holding the Mona Lisa is lined with a red carpet. This is the most luxurious room I've seen so far. "The Mona Lisa, a painting begun by Leonardo da Vinci in 1503 in Florence, finished only shortly before he died, in 1519. The Mona Lisa's beauty has remained undimmed for over five hundred years. She has been gazed upon by millions in her Paris home. Now... she is here." Mr Harding steps in front of us, and we stop walking. He stands to one side of the curtains, where I can see a bit of string that controls them. "Feast your eyes and lose your hearts. I give you... the Mona Lisa!"

Mr Harding pulls the curtains back. Instead of the Mona Lisa greeting us, we get a different sight altogether. Instead, we see a painting of Mr Harding's assistant, Miss Trupp. Some of the students start laughing, but I glance at my friends and Luke. "Where is she?" Clyde asks. "Has the Mona Lisa done a runner?"
"How likely is that?" Mr Chandra asks.
"Er, we have dealt with the impossible before, sir."
Mr Harding runs over to a phone. "SECURITY! THE MONA LISA HAS BEEN STOLEN!"

We hurry out of the room and end up back at the reception. Most students collect their phones as the police arrive to take a statement from Mr Harding and the rest of us. Of course, none of us saw the actual theft, so we cannot say who had taken the painting. "I told them security had to be improved here!" Mr Harding yells at the officer. "I told them, after that Cup of Athelstan fiasco at Easter. Oh, my poor Mona Lisa. The French will have my head!"
"If you could all stay calm as we move out, and let the police do their job," Mr Chandra says.
"This looks fishy," Anne whispers. "Why would they put a picture of Miss Trupp in the Mona Lisa's place?"
"Maybe she's behind it all," Clyde suggests, "maybe it's her calling card."
"Even if it's not alien, it's weird enough for Mum and Mummy," I say, "I'm going to call them."
"No!" Luke yells. "We don't need Mum and Mummy, we can do this ourselves."
"I'm not leaving my parents out of this, Luke."
"Whatever we do, we need to lose my dad," Rani says. We look over at Mr Chandra, who takes a register of everyone he's seen leaving the building. Luke wanders over to Mr Chandra, and we follow him. Luke uses the excuse that he needs the toilet, and we all follow suit. Mr Chandra tells us to be quick as he herds the last students outside. It turns out Luke needs the loo, so we wait for him before we do any investigating. Once Luke finishes, we start navigating the gallery, trying to avoid the police.

The only problem is Mr Chandra finds us first. "What are you doing?" He whispers. "You need to be at the coach."
"We thought we could help," Clyde whispers back, "if it's something alien, we've got experience."
Mr Chandra sighs as he thinks about it. "Alright, but I'm with you on this one. Mrs Taylor can handle the students."

We eventually find our way back to the room where Clyde's painting is. I look over at it as everyone looks at the map Clyde has, trying to work it out. Wait a minute... "Clyde?" I ask.
"Yes, I know, my picture will look great in your lounge. Just get your mums to make me an offer."
"It's not that, Clyde, I want to know what happened to the gun that was in it!" I point to the picture and turn to the others, and they all look stunned.
"Charles' gun!" Clyde exclaims. "What happened? How did—"

"What are you doing here?" Mr Harding yells, and we turn to him. "The police are investigating! They don't need a bunch of silly schoolchildren and their headmaster running around disturbing evidence!"
"It's not just your precious Mona Lisa that's missing," I scowl, "one of the guns in Clyde's painting is missing! Look!" Mr Harding looks over, walks up to the painting, and carefully touches it.
"It's dry."
"It wasn't painted out, Mr Harding," Mr Chandra says, "it was clearly taken. That must mean there's an alien presence here, right?"
"Right," I agree. "Whatever we're dealing with, it's more than just an art thief."

"Oh, you better believe it, sugar," a woman says. She approaches us from behind and points the Sontaran blaster at us. She is wearing clothes from Italy in the 16th century, and she looks rather familiar... where do I recognise her?
"She's got my gun," Clyde whispers.
"Who are you?" Mr Harding asks.
The woman places the gun on her shoulder. "And I thought you were the art expert! I am the Mona Lisa."
"No, but really?"
"Yeah, really. You can't fake this kind of class."
"James will never let us live this one down," Anne says.
"You can't be the Mona Lisa," Catalina argues, "you must be an alien manifestation."
"Ooh," Mona Lisa aims her gun at us again, "and why's that, then?"
"On Earth, people don't pop out of paintings or nick guns from other pieces of art." I argue. "If I were you, I'd return that gun."
Mona Lisa moves past us to inspect Clyde's painting. "Not bad, not in my league, of course. Leo was a bit of a legend, even back then." She turns to us. "Of course, he had to blag the oils from his weirdo neighbour to paint me."
"Okay, if that's true, now you're out of your frame, what do you want?"
"I've just had five centuries hanging on a wall, sugar." She walks over to us, and we step back. "What is it you think I want? It's time I had a bit of fun. And I think I'll start with some... target practice!" Mona Lisa runs her hand over the gun.
"RUN FOR IT!" Mr Chandra yells, and we leg it out of the room.

We run for the entrance of the gallery. "That's it," I snap, "we're calling Mum and Mummy— now!"
"No!" Luke yells.
"For God's sake, I don't care what argument you got into with our parents, we're in over our heads."
"Never mind that, where is everyone? This place should be crawling with police."
"Right, that's it."
"What?" Clyde asks.
"Luke, if you want to do this yourself, fine, but keep me out of it. I'm not going to let you bring the lot of us down because you refuse to involve our parents in something that's way too big for us to—" I stop talking when I notice the painting of a landscape. Instead of the landscape being clear, there are police officers and forensic teams in there. "We're screwed." I turn back to Luke. "If you want to do this on your own, I'll let you do that, but I'm calling Mum and Mummy."

"No, don't!" Luke cries when Catalina gives me her phone. He grabs my arm.
"Get your hands off of me!"
"I will not get our parents involved!"
"You're acting like a toddler. Maybe it's good that you're having this tantrum now because it's about time you grew up!"
"You act like you're the most important person on the planet because you'll travel back in time. Well, that's not true. Just because you're going to travel back in time, that doesn't mean any of us are less important."
"I do not think that way. Do you want to know what my world is like? I feel like I have no choices, no chance to choose what I really want. It might surprise you, but what I want and what I need to do are completely different!"

Luke grabs Catalina's phone and puts it in his pocket. "Give that back to Catalina."
"You're the one acting like the toddler in this situation."
"I'm grown-up enough to know when we need to involve our parents, and this is one of them. Give Catalina her phone back."
"Catalina's not getting it back, not until you start explaining yourself."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You keep on thinking that going back in time and keeping history on track is critical—"
"Because if I don't do it, we might never exist! Do you want to never exist?"
"I wouldn't know a difference!"
"I would!"
"No, because your timeline would change. I wouldn't know any different, and neither would you or anyone else. I'm sick of you putting off revising all your subjects because you're worried about the past. You keep on staring out of the window during lessons, your grades are plummeting, and I've had to explain to teachers that you're going through a rebellious phase."
"I'm not, you are! You refused to tidy your room, which is why Mum and Mummy are mad at you!"
"That is not the point!"
"Yes, it is! Call Mum and Mummy, tell them to come here."
"No!"
"Go fuck yourself, Luke!"
"Emma, don't use that language," Mr Chandra says. "Luke, I think you should call Sarah Jane and Ruby. We don't know what we're dealing with, so at least bringing them here will help."
"I'm not calling them!" I start storming out of the room. "Come back here!" I give Luke the middle finger and continue walking until I'm out of sight of everyone else.

I continue walking until I come into the same room that the Mona Lisa was in. I open the door to find Mum, Mummy, Charles, Harry, and James facing off against Mona Lisa. "What?" Mummy asks.
"Mm," Mona Lisa says, "heard him, his friends, and his sister talking before. Luke and his mates were all "we can do this ourselves!" but Emma was more like "we need to get our parents involved". Ooh, speak of the devil!" She turns to face me. "Where are your little friends, Ems?"
I growl at her and walk over to my parents and friends. We hear a deep growl echo throughout the gallery. "What is that?"
"That is my brother," Mona Lisa says. Suddenly, she starts glowing red and I back away from her, moving away from my friends and family. I can't endanger them.
"What's going on?"
"Well, give me a second, and I'll put you in the picture." Mona Lisa stretches a hand out to me, and I scream as I freeze into place.

I see Luke, Mr Chandra and my friends run into the gallery as Mum, Mummy, Harry, Charles, and James start looking for me. "Emma?" Luke asks. "Emma!"
Catalina turns and sees me. "Guys, we're royally screwed now." She and the others approach me.
"No, oh Emma," Mummy whispers, and I see the Mona Lisa come back. Oh, I'd so want to kill her now.
"And that is how she'll stay forever."
"What have you done with her?" Luke demands.
"Do you not like it? I mean, I know art is subjective, but I think she looks as pretty as a picture. Well, most pictures. I think we can all agree I'm in a different league." Ugh, she's so full of herself! I want to cry, scream, and curse at the world, but all I can do is think. I guess I'll have a lot of time to think now.

Had I been hard on Luke? Yes, but he deserved it. He's acting like a baby as he's refused to call Mum and Mummy for help. If I was in his situation, that's what I'd do. Even if I argued with them, you could never be too old to need your parents. But soon, I cannot rely on them. I'll need to find my way in the world without them.

I never thought of that before. Within months, if I get out of this painting, I will not see my parents for several hundred years. Hundreds of years. The mere thought of it makes me want to cry, but I'm trapped in a painting. I cannot cry.

At some point, Mum and Mummy come back to the painting. Mummy unhooks it from the wall. "My painting!" Mr Harding yells.
"Our daughter!" Mummy yells back, and they start running, taking me with them. I think they go into an empty hall to talk when something chases them. But I can hardly see anything, so I've no clue what's going on. I hope someone will explain it to me once I get out of this painting.

I think we end up in a gift shop when Mummy finally puts me down. "We need to find a way to release Emma," Mummy says, "if the Mona Lisa brought a painting to life, then she might be able to do the same with Emma."
"I don't get what we can use to bargain with," James says, "we don't know who her brother is or where he is. We've got nothing."
"Then let's use the resources we've got." Almost everyone hurries over to the guides and books about the gallery. Mum and Mummy stay behind.

"We'll find a way to save you, Emma," Mum promises. "We'll get you out of there."
"Yes," Mummy agrees, "we'll do everything we can." Mummy's voice starts breaking, and she gently puts the painting down. Mum pulls Mummy into a hug.
"It's all right, Sarah. We'll save Emma. She'll be okay." She looks over at me. "You're strong, Emma. You've got through difficult situations, and you can get through this." I hope so. Mum lets go of Mummy and picks up the painting again.

"I've found a way to save Emma! Come on!" Catalina yells. Mummy places the painting down, and the group walk away. No, I don't want to be on my own.

Am I doing the right thing by not studying for my GCSEs? Yes, I have very little time to revise for everything that will happen in my life. When my books turn blank, I'll be on my own with only my memory to help me. I need to rely on myself, and having maths equations and the life cycle of a frog will not help me in any way. I need to keep focused on history- that is the only way I will succeed.

I move one of my fingers. Huh, I couldn't do that before. I try blinking, and my eyelids move. A shimmering red light surrounds the frame, and I close my eyes.

When I open them again, I find myself standing at the reception. I look at the ground to find the painting there. 'I never want to experience that again.' I start looking around, and my body sags in relief when I spot the police officers nearby. The others must've stopped the Mona Lisa, thank goodness. I continue walking, and I soon see my friends and family coming toward me. "Emma!" Mummy yells.
"Mum! Mummy!" I pull my parents into a hug, and the others join me.
"You all right?" Mr Chandra asks.
"Yeah, but that's an experience I never want to relive."
"Now the Mona Lisa's gone, you shouldn't have to go through that again."
"Thank goodness!" I look over at Luke. "Hey, Luke, I'm sorry about before. I shouldn't have sworn at you, it was irresponsible and childish of me, and I'm sorry."
"Isn't there also something else you need to apologise for?" He asks.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Not this again!" Catalina yells. Mr Harding runs over to us, sees I'm okay, nods, and then runs in the other direction.
"Where's he going?" Clyde asks. Mummy nods her head in the direction Mr Harding is going, and we follow him.

He heads back to the Mona Lisa, and Miss Trupp is out of the frame. She's shaken by what happened but grows angry when Mr Harding tries to woo her- and I'm not surprised. We watch as Miss Trupp storms out, followed by Mr Harding begging her to listen to him. "A living consciousness imprisoned like that," I say, staring at the Mona Lisa, "I almost feel sorry for her."
"Almost?" Mum asks.
"Well, you can go off someone when they trap you in a picture. But I knew you lot would always be there for me."
"It was really all down to Luke," Anne says, and I huff. Great, now I'm in debt to my little brother.
"I'm sorry for going off at you like that," Luke says, "I guess travelling through history will put an enormous amount of pressure on you."
"Yeah, just a bit," I agree. "I accept your apology, Luke." Luke hugs me, and I hug him back.
"I'll clean out my room when we get home," Luke says, looking at Mum and Mummy, "I promise."
"And while you're doing that," Mummy says, "Clyde and I will be having a little chat about Titanic officers and Sontaran blasters." Clyde looks rather sheepish, but Mummy smiles at him. "So, where is your work?"

We find it again, and marvel at how amazing the painting is. "I love it," Charles says, "thanks for giving me a Sontaran blaster."
"Well, the queens said you met a Sontaran."
"Kaagh the Slayer, that was what he liked to call himself."
"How did he end up in 1900s Australia?" I ask. "We pushed him into a portal last year."
"Huh?"
"He was the Sontaran that helped kidnap Luke."
"Oh, okay. I didn't get the chance to ask Kaagh how he got there. But I was surprised by your reaction."
"Oh? What did I do?"
"I am not telling. But it was funny."

That really makes me wonder what I'm going to end up doing.