Well here we are, with the second chapter! It's a bit longer than the first but that's what free weekends are for...well, at least my free weekend...

II

It was all over the radio and TV in the morning. The collapse of the Old Bailey was the work of a 'successful demolition'. And the fireworks just appeared to be an added bonus.

I nearly always know when people are lying. Especially when looking at the face of the female newsreader. Her eyes were blinking ten times faster than usual.

Thankfully, my mother seemed to know nothing about my escapade at five in the morning. I don't know what she would have done if she'd found out. The sun had risen, and I sat at the kitchen table eating a piece of buttered toast while she bustled around the kitchen, getting ready for work. It looked as if she'd be run off her feet, given the events of the previous night. Prothero was bound to bombard her with requests for endless cups of coffee. Knowing him, he'd stayed up the whole night along with uniformed officials trying to work out whodunnit.

"Right now, I'm off to work, so have a good day." Mum gave me a kiss on the cheek, then reached for her coat. "I'll be back around five thirty, all right?"

"Sounds good." I grinned, taking another bite of toast. Thank goodness it was the weekend and I could do whatever I wanted.

The front door shut, and I was alone in the flat. Solitude at last.

Try as I might, though, I couldn't stop my thoughts from drifting towards V. I remembered how he had stood shadowed by the darkness, watching my struggle with the Fingermen, before stepping in. How he had handled his weapons with such ease, his knives flashing through the air like silver lightening. How he calmly killed all three of the men, not turning so much as a hair as he watched them die.

But what I found most curious was why he wore a Guy Fawkes mask. And I knew it wasn't just because it was the fifth of November and all, there was something else in it. But what? Was he the hero or the villain? Or both?

For the rest of the day, I drifted aimlessly about the flat. I read a book, watched TV, called up one of my friends, even did some homework. I spent a good couple of hours drawing. It was wonderful to just draw what I wanted, without any instruction from my Art teacher, who didn't seem to like me very much. My friend Sally said it was just because I was better at drawing than she was. Even so, the clock beside the fireplace ticked maddeningly, as if reminding me that I was wasting my life with ever passing second.

Suddenly, I couldn't stand it anymore. I grabbed my jacket, phone and flat keys off the table and opened the front door, stepping out onto the street. Autumn leaves tossed and turned in the wind, a cool breeze blowing through the air. For one moment, I cast a quick glance down the street, towards the way I had walked only a few hours ago. A shiver ran through me at the memory.

Then I turned my back and walked the other way, towards Piccadilly Circus.

"That'll be five pounds." Steve, the sales assistant in Waterstone's Picadilly bookstore said to me. "Does your mum know that you'll have bought out the whole bloody bookshop by the time I turn sixty?"

I grinned as I found the five pounds and handed them over. Steve was just one of the reasons I came into Waterstone's to buy my books. An elderly man with a kind face, he had a great sense of humour and was always happy to help me look for books that I wanted. "Sure, Steve. I'm already planning to build my own

library with the vast collection of books I've bought from here over the years. Do feel free to stop by sometime and help me with my services."

Steve laughed as he handed me a brown paper bag containing Wuthering Heights. "I will if you'll bring me free cups of coffee and a plate of your mum's shortbread biscuits every half hour, Vanessa."

"Deal." I waved at him. "See you, Steve." Heading out the doorway, I laughed to myself.

Walking across to Piccadilly Circus, I made my way across the street and sat down on a wooden seat, opposite the shops and the huge digital billboard with a slogan beneath it saying, 'Strength Through Unity, Unity Through Faith.' Birds swooped in the sky, searching for crumbs below. A few other people were around; a family with two little children, and an elderly couple walking across the street. The massive screen was alive with colour, showcasing advertisements to passers-by.

Then, all at once, the screen went static.

I stared at it. Flashes of grey static and blank black flickered across it, on and off. Everyone else in view of the screen gazed curiously at it, as if their very gaze could put it right again. I could hear one man grumble, "What's wrong with the damn thing?"

Suddenly, the screen flashed into life again.

And there, on the screen, was V.

Sitting in front of a red backdrop of curtain, he addressed all of London as if he personally knew them all. A jolt went through my stomach as I stared at him, hardly believing what I was seeing.

"Good evening, London." His voice was serene. "Allow me first, to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of everyday routines."

"The bloke's a madman." The father of the family said in a low voice, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression….well, certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror."

As V spoke, I listened to his every word. One half of me was shocked, but the other half of me was intrigued.

"There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense." V carried on. "Fear got the best of you, and you turned to the High Chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten."

I gasped in shock. V was the one who blew up the Old Bailey? And to think that I had spoken to him less than twenty-four hours ago!

"So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked." The dark holes in V's eyes mask seemed to scrutinize all of London, as if he could see deep into the souls of everyone, myself included, who were watching this broadcast.

"But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgot."

The screen zapped into silence. But all that remained was a logo on the screen.

A red V with a circle around it.

Suddenly, I knew where the broadcast had come from. The same place where my mother worked. And, of course, I had no doubt that something was happening over there.

Mum.

Not giving it a second's thought, I was off, clutching my book and running as fast as I could towards Jordan Tower.

I raced up the stairs as fast as I could, fighting my way through the crowd of people surging downwards. Scanning left and right, I couldn't see any sign of her. Then again, she was probably on the upper floor, where her office was, helping Prothero. A uniformed guard came into view and I ducked, desperately hoping that he hadn't seen me.

Nearly there. I quickly slipped through the door that opened out onto the hallway of the fifth floor, where Mum's office was. Slowing my pace, I began to tread as quickly and quietly as I could down the corridor, keeping alert for any uniformed guards on the prowl. There was nobody around, as far as I could tell. I quickly ducked into a doorway of one of the offices, peering cautiously round the corner. But there, on the wall were the posters of Lewis Prothero, which indicated that I'd reached Mum's office. Either she'd be in here with him and a group of security guards waiting until it all died down, or probably outside, away from the building. Either way, I told myself, I'll find her soon–

"FREEZE!"

I dropped to the ground, hidden by the half-closed door as the shout of a man rang out. "Get your hands on your head! Do it now, or I'll shoot!"

Hardly daring to move, let alone breathe, I carefully inched forwards, trying to get a better view. And when I did, I almost stopped breathing.

V was standing still in the corridor, beside the elevator, his black gloved hands raised in the air, as another man pointed a gun at him.

"I must say, I am rather astonished by the response time of London's finest." V sounded completely unperturbed. "I didn't expect you to be so jolly on the spot."

Silently, I raised myself to my feet, unsure of what to do next, but also completely certain that I couldn't just sit there and do nothing. I looked around for something, anything I could lay my hands on that would be of any use, but nothing.

"We were here before you even got started. Bad luck, chum." the man said, aggressively.

Then, a movement down the end of the corridor caught my eye. A young woman quickly and quietly made her way towards V and the man with the gun. She tapped him on the shoulder, and as he spun round, she pepper-sprayed his face.

As the man shouted with pain, knocking the woman to the ground with the butt of his gun, I pulled myself upwards, running straight towards them. V whirled around and hit the man hard, letting him crumple to the ground, unconscious.

Not even a second passed before I spoke his name.

"V."

He turned around, regarding me with what I took for surprise and shock. "Vanessa." He seemed at a loss for words for a couple of seconds, before he spoke, more roughly. "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you." I retorted, staring right back at him. "I came here to look for my mum. After I saw your broadcast. And…and, I just–" Suddenly, words failed me.

I think it was in that moment I realized that I now would never be able to find my mother in the crowd of people outside and go home, pretending all the while that everything was normal. I would have to live with the fact that I, Vanessa Breigon, played a part in these events, yet at the same time, didn't really do anything at all.

Yet at the same time, I couldn't stay here, waiting until they found me. They'd question me about what had happened, using kind words and phrases such as, 'We just want to help' and, 'Take your time' in order to strip me of every little bit of information that I knew about V.

Then, after they'd finished with me, they'd hunt him down. And kill him.

I knew that, in reality, I had only one choice left to make.

"What should we do?" I spoke in little more than a whisper, as V lifted the unconscious woman into his arms and quickly pressed the Down button for the elevator.

As the doors slid open, V only had time to make one comment.

"We get out of here."

There you are...thoughts? Chapter III on its way as soon as I can (though I do have to contend with what they call 'school'...aaarrgh!)