11: Texts

"So, George," Ewart said, when they'd finished eating dinner in front of the TV. Jemima was having a rare night away from Will, who was being visited by relatives, and she'd cooked spaghetti, which George had eaten two helpings of and so he was feeling stuffed. "You're turning fifteen before long. Anything you want to do for your birthday?"

With everything else, George hadn't given much thought to his birthday. It wasn't his first birthday away on a mission, but he always preferred to be back on campus with his mates and he felt a bit disappointed he was missing out on that.

"Um, not really," he answered, patting his bloated belly. "Haven't really thought about it."

"We could jump on a train and go to a theme park, or go sightseeing somewhere, or just book a table at a fancy restaurant?" Ewart suggested.

"A decent restaurant sounds good," George said, although the thought of eating more food made him feel slightly sick.

"Alright, I'll have a look," Ewart said. "Jemima, if you know of any, let me know."

"Will do," Jemima said, glancing over at George. "Are you thinking of inviting other people?"

"I suppose probably Natalie and Charlie, plus Will if you want," George shrugged. "I'm not fussy."

"Can't make it too fancy, if there's six of us," Ewart pointed out. "But we'll see what the mission budget might stretch to."

"Are you sure Natalie would want to go? She's been in such a bad mood the past few days at school," Jemima pointed out.

"You'd be in a bad mood if you were in her situation," George countered. "Anyway, maybe it will cheer her up."

"Would you say she's depressed?" Ewart asked, suddenly sounding interested.

"Absolutely. She barely eats and getting her to talk about anything is a challenge," George told him.

"Her mum has made a few comments about taking her to see a psychologist but I brushed them off as over-concerned parenting," Ewart said. "If she's really depressed then that's more serious."

"It doesn't help that she failed her exams and is on the verge of getting kicked out of school," Jemima added. "I can't imagine that's easy."

"Oh, I manage just fine," George grinned. "That's the George Knight way of living life."

"Has she made any more comments about her relationship with her mum?" Ewart asked. "I know we've basically exhausted the possibility of Mrs Baker being our leak, but you never know what Natalie might be willing to tell you if she's struggling with that relationship."

George shook his head. "To be perfectly honest I don't think her mum talks to her about work stuff, but I'll ask a few gentle questions and see if she'll open up."

"Good man," Ewart said, jumping up and collecting everyone's bowls. "There might be hope for this mission yet."

Natalie's attendance at school was patchy; sometimes she'd leave for no reason in the afternoon, or not come in until late, looking tired and pale. George invited her to his birthday and she said she would come, but she declined all of his and Charlie's other attempts to get her to hang out after school. For George, this meant that there wasn't a great deal for him to do on the mission for the next few weeks, and he spent his hours after school and at the weekend doing whatever campus schoolwork came in. He was registered for seven GCSE exams in the summer and they'd put him in for A-Level maths and physics, so his teachers were ramping up the workload and it seemed like as soon as he'd submitted one practice exam he was being assigned another. It felt good to actually get on top of his schoolwork for once and not be constantly chased for overdue homework, but he felt like his head was a whirl of scientific formulae and essay structures.

"Did you get a weird text from Natalie this morning?" Charlie asked him at morning break. Natalie hadn't turned up for school again and her empty desk was obvious in an otherwise full classroom.

"No, what kind of text?" George said, checking his phone to make sure.

"I don't know…" Charlie said, pulling it up and showing it to George.

PLS DON'T TELL MY MUM I SKIPPED SCHOOL THX X

"What's so weird about that?" George asked, frowning.

"Well, why would I tell her mum that?" Charlie said. "Do you think she's trying to fly back to England again?"

George considered this. "Possibly…" he said. "And she hasn't replied to any other messages?"

"I even tried calling her, but no answer," Charlie told him. "She doesn't text me for a week straight and then just this, out of the blue? Seems weird."

George re-read the text. "You're right, it is weird," he said. "Leave it with me."

Leaving Charlie in their usual spot by the stairs, he went up to the classroom to find Jemima, who was sitting on a desk with her feet in Will's lap.

"Can I have a minute?" George asked, ignoring the curious look Will was giving him.

"Yeah, what's up?" Jemima said, swinging her feet onto the floor and pushing them into her school slippers. George led her over to a quiet corner.

"Listen, Charlie's had a weird text from Natalie this morning about her skipping school. I know it's probably nothing, but-"

"Someone who's depressed sending weird texts? You want to go and check she's not on a plane to the UK?" Jemima answered, instantly realising what he meant.

"I'm probably massively overthinking it, but you never know," George said. "Will you come with me?"

"When are you thinking of going?" Jemima asked, glancing over at Will.

"Now," George told her. "We'll only miss a couple of hours of school."

Jemima hesitated. She had a near-perfect attendance record at school and knew Will would ask awkward questions about what she was doing, but she also knew George had a point. "Alright, let's go. Sooner the better," she said. George waited as she walked over to Will, told him she just needed to go out for a bit, and, ignoring his protests, grabbed her bag and followed George downstairs to the main entrance.

"I'm going to check on Natalie," he told Charlie as they passed. "Text me if she gets in touch with you again."

"Feels like ages since we were here for that party," Jemima said as they turned the corner into the street with Natalie's house on it.

"I know what you mean," George said, glancing over at her house. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it looked like usual; quiet and secluded. The electronic gates were closed and locked so he tried the intercom, but wasn't surprised when there was no response from inside the house.

"Maybe she's out after all?" Jemima suggested.

"Probably, but I'd rather be safe," George said, throwing his school bag over the gate and then climbing up it. The railings were designed more for decorative purposes than for keeping intruders out, and they wobbled slightly as George scrambled over. He pressed the internal unlocking button on the keypad so that Jemima could walk through in a more dignified way, and then after retrieving his bag he went and rang the doorbell.

"Can't see anything through the windows," Jemima said, skirting around the side of the house. "I don't want to go around the back in case someone sees us and gets suspicious."

"No answer here," George said. He went into his bag and pulled out his lock gun, and while Jemima kept an eye on the street to make sure nobody was watching, he fiddled with the attachments until he heard the click and the door popped open.

"Natalie?" George shouted into the house, stepping inside with Jemima behind him. "Are you here?"

After the noise and loud music at the party, it was strange to be in the house when it was so quiet. There was a gentle hum coming from the heaters but nothing else, not even the noise of the street outside.

"She must be out," Jemima said, but George pointed to an AC/DC keyring hanging by the front door.

"Those are her keys," he said. "She's not gone out without them and somehow locked the door behind her."

"I'll check upstairs, you check down," Jemima said quickly, and she shouted "Natalie?" again as she climbed the stairs. George checked the living room, which was empty, and the kitchen, which was also empty except for a packed lunch sitting on the table, untouched. For the sake of completeness, he checked inside the utility room and was about to try the back door when he heard a scream from upstairs.

"George!" Jemima shouted. He almost slipped over on the tiled kitchen floor as he turned and sprinted, taking the stairs three at a time. He went into Natalie's bedroom first, but there was nobody in there, and as he looked around, bewildered, Jemima shouted "In here!" from the bathroom. He dashed back out and, when he got to the bathroom, felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.

Jemima was half-in, half-out of the big square bathtub, holding Natalie's arm tightly with her face close to Natalie's, trying to listen for her breathing. Natalie was limp and her eyes were closed, lying in the tub fully dressed in her school uniform but without shoes.

"Her heartbeat is weak and her breathing is shallow," Jemima told him, pointing to the sink. "Look in there."

George looked and saw an empty pill bottle and two empty blister packs of tablets. He picked them up to see what they were, but the text was in Japanese.

"Painkillers," Jemima told him. "She needs an ambulance."

"I can't speak Japanese properly," George said, feeling a rising panic as he looked at Natalie's pale face.

"I'll call, you see if there's anything left in her mouth," Jemima said, swapping places with George and grabbing her phone out of her bag.

George checked her pulse on her wrist and at first thought it had stopped. He repositioned his fingers awkwardly around his cast and managed to find it, very weak like Jemima had said. He could hear Jemima speaking to the emergency services behind him in a calm tone. With his other hand, he used his fingers to prise Natalie's mouth open. He pushed his fingers around her gums and under her tongue, making sure there weren't any other tablets there, then peered inside to check nothing was at the back of her throat. There wasn't anything, so he pulled his hand back and surreptitiously wiped it on Natalie's skirt.

"They're on their way, ten minutes," Jemima told him as George climbed fully into the bathtub and rolled Natalie onto her side in the recovery position.

"She's still breathing OK," George confirmed. "No need for CPR yet."

"I'll go and open the front door to let the paramedics in. Shout if you need anything," Jemima said, patting his shoulder for a second before leaving.

George felt awful as he looked at Natalie, lying there unconscious, her breathing shallow. No matter how much schoolwork he had or even when he was wet through, covered in mud and being screamed at by a CHERUB training instructor, he'd never felt so bad that he would want to kill himself. He prayed that she would be OK and kept his fingers pressed into her wrist, feeling the tiny pulses that said she was still there.

Two paramedics, carrying bulky CPR equipment, squeezed their way into the bathroom a few minutes later and relieved George from holding Natalie. As he stepped away, his arms and back sore from the awkward position he'd been crouching in, he noticed a large stretcher propped up against the wall outside the bathroom and Jemima was hovering anxiously next to it, waiting to see if she was needed.

"What would have happened if we'd just left her?" Jemima said to him when he tried to give her a reassuring smile, and up close he noticed that she'd been crying a little.

"What matters is that she'll be okay now," George said, hugging Jemima as one of the paramedics came for the stretcher and laid it out on the bathroom floor so they could roll Natalie out of the bath and onto it.