(Jenny's POV)

I arrive at Britannia High, landing on the roof of a bus stop opposite the school. Jumping off the roof, I look around to see if anyone's about. A white Nissan Micra drives past. I look behind me where there's a park and children's playground. No-one's there other than the pigeons and crows. I go under the bus shelter and open my communicator.

"Deactivate cloaking device," I say to the communicator, while at the same time, I press the blue button above the keypads to disguise myself.

As my body becomes visible, my disguise is revealed. Rolled-up black skinny jeans to show off the nude-coloured brogues, teamed with a grey oversized slouchy sweater and a pastel peppermint green shirt underneath. It's finished off with a black fedora, a pink metallic shoulder bag and oversized speckled turtle horn-rimmed glasses that are the essence of cool. And to make sure that my disguise is foolproof; my hair is replaced with a wavy dark brown wig that rests comfortably on my shoulders.

I look around once again to make sure no-one is around. The street is empty. I step out of the bus shelter and cross the road. I push the doors open and enter Britannia High.

While I walk along the bustling corridor of Britannia High, I'm amaze at what I see. The school is designed artistically with its interior. The open plan floor space has constructed abstract, white boxes hanging on the ceiling to filter sunlight through the high skylights and the staircases are shaped sculpturally. What's more impressive is the open and bright study environment where everyone is part of the same room – only to be separated by the split levels and glass walls of the teaching rooms. The varied pattern of windows not only creates a strong visual effect, it also generously lets the light flow into the building and gives a view of the park and houses around the school.

I'm so fascinated by the layout of the school, that I bump into a girl at the bottom of the stairs, causing her to drop her books and pens. When I recover from the collision, I kneel down and help pick up her things. When we finish, we both climb to our feet.

"Thanks," the girl says as I hand her books to her.

"It's the least I can do," I say with a Geordie accent to further my disguise. "The interior design of this school is so amazing and I wasn't paying attention."

"That's OK. New girl, right?"

I smile. "Yeah. I'm all new. The new improved me. I'm… Simone. Simone Connors."

"Welcome to Britannia High, Simone. I'm Lola Moss," she says. "So what performing arts classes are you studying?"

"Oh… er… all of them."

"Drama, Music and Dance? Awesome. I'm only doing Music and Dance." The bell rings. "Speaking of which, that's second period starting," Lola explains. "And since you're new, you'll have to go straight to your second-period class and skip going to first period. Luckily, the second-period class is Music, so I can show you the way to the class."

"Thanks," I say.

I study Lola out of the corner of my eye as we walk. She's small and pretty, short blonde curly hair, with bright blue eyes. She's wearing indigo skinny jeans, with a scoop-neck black tee and a powder-blue skinny scarf, and tan-coloured Ugg boots.

"Here we are," says Lola, stopping outside a room labelled MUSIC ROOM. Taking my elbow, she guides me into the classroom door.

The music room looks similar to the one in Glee: ten row bleachers at the back wall, a piano in the middle of the room with a drum kit against the near door. Other instruments including guitars, trumpets and saxophones are on their stands, resting against the wall, by the bleachers.

The room looks like it can hold a class of twenty, but after I enter the room, it looks half empty. There are only nine people here and that includes me and Lola.

I follow Lola to the bleachers, where we sit on the fifth row. A tall girl strolls over. She has straight, shiny auburn hair to her waist and deep violet eyes. She's wearing an off white, lace trim top, layered with a pink knit cardigan and a dark denim jacket on top. With olive twill cargo trousers and brown buckle trim ankle boots. The look is complete with a pink check flat cap. The girl climbs up the bleachers and sits next to Lola.

"Hey, Lola," she says. She sees me. "Oh, hello."

"Grace Lamb, this is Simone Connors," Lola announces. "She's new."

"Really? That's the third person this morning that I've seen who's new."

"Oh? Where were the other two?" I ask.

"In my last lesson, Maths," Grace replies. "They were wiping the floor with those questions that Miss Segal was throwing. They're both from Liverpool. Their names are Jon Something-something and Cami Something-or-other, I wasn't really paying attention. Oh, look, here they are now."

I look to the door and see Jon and Cami enter the room. Jon is tall, with dark mop-top hair and light blue eyes. He's wearing a black shirt over dark denim jeans and a grey beanie. Cami is a foot shorter than Jon. She's dark-skinned with a mini afro and brown eyes, wearing orange skinny jeans, and a cropped yellow sweater. I can't put my finger on it, but they look familiar. I've got a feeling that we've met before.

As they slide into the first row of the bleachers, a ruggedly handsome man steps into the room, closing the door behind him. He can't be that old – maybe mid- to late-thirties, with dark hair and eyes and a tall, well-built frame. He's wearing dark denim jeans and a black leather jacket over a green turtleneck.

"That's Mr. Carson," says Lola. "The best music teacher in Britannia High and very, very cute."

"Good morning, everyone!" says Mr. Carson, taking off his leather jacket and setting it on a table. "Hope you all had a nice weekend. I'm really looking forward to hearing what song you've picked from your favourite musical. So, who would like to go first?"

Everyone goes quiet. No-one wants to go first.

"All right, I'll pick someone." Mr. Carson rolls up his sleeves as he looks at the bleachers. After a slight pause, he sets his eyes on me. "You! Girl with the hat. I've not seen you before."

"This is Simone," Grace tells him. "She's new."

"Really? Well, Simone, since you're new, how about being the first one to sing a song from your favourite musical."

"OK," I say, with a shrug.

I make my way to the middle of the floor, feeling confident and relaxed.

"Shall I begin?" I ask.

"First, tell me the name of the song you'll be singing and from which musical," says Mr. Carson.

"'Hopelessly Devoted to You' from Grease," I say. I've watched that film so many times, I practically know every line.

"OK, then, away you go."

I take a deep breath and start: "Guess mine is not the first heart broken…"

When I finish, there's a round of applause.

Mr. Carson looks impressed. "Wow," he says, "you're really good. You've got loads of confidence."

I smile. "Thanks."

I return to my seat and Mr. Carson picks the next person. Lola. Her turn. She does a passionate, emotional audition of 'Over the Rainbow' from The Wizard of Oz that moves everyone. Grace is next. She gives a confident audition, belting out 'Tomorrow' from Annie. Jon looks slightly nervous and stammers a few times to 'Greased Lightning' from Grease, and Cami forgets one of the lines to 'Good Morning, Baltimore' from Hairspray, but soon it's over.

"That was a great job everyone," Mr. Carson says warmly. "You really captured a wonderful sense of atmosphere. Well do–"

Just then, the door opens and someone enters the classroom. It's a girl. She looks a couple of inches shorter than Lola. She looks mousy and pale; her hair is chestnut brown and lank, drawn back into a ponytail. She's slightly on the chubby side – her face is round, with small dark brown eyes, almost black with rimless, rectangular glasses and round puffs of cheeks. She's wearing a dark green hooded sweater, black denim shorts, black opaque tights and dark blue Converse shoes, accessorized with a necklace with a little gold frog on it, something her mother or grandmother must have given her.

"Lily Rubin, you're late," says Mr. Carson. "Forty minutes late."

"Sor-Sorry, Mr. Carson," Lily pants. "I… er… I lost track of time."

"Well, you're here now. So how about stepping to the front and do your audition piece from your favourite musical."

All eyes are on the nervous girl as she sets her bag on the first row of bleachers and stands in the centre of the room.

"What song are you going to do?" Mr. Carson asks.

"'I Dreamed a Dream' from Les Misérables," Lily replies.

"Right, off you go."

Lily tilts her chin in the air, and a light suddenly flares in her eyes. Then, in a clear, strong voice, she begins her audition piece. Her rich tones play up and down the words almost as if she was singing. She moves lyrically across the room, so that everyone watching feels swept up in the song. I feel tears prick my eyes, and from the corner of them, I can see Lola and Grace hold each other's hand tightly as they listen, transfixed. When Lily finishes, there's a stunned silence. The music room erupts in cheers and whoops. Lily seems to return to her old, nervous self, because she tries to slip off to her seat, but Mr. Carson will not allow it. He leaps up beside her and holds her arm.

"Well Lily, I must admit, I never thought you had it in you," the music teacher confesses. "And aren't you a naughty girl, hiding a voice like that under the carpet for all these months."

Lily says nothing. She blushes very red and nods. Then the bell clangs and everyone grabs their stuff.

I leave the music room with Lola and Grace and we saunter off to the Portakabins.

"Wow, that Lily girl sure has some voice," I say, seating myself on the steps that lead down to the Portakabins.

"Lily was totally, earth-shatteringly awesome," Lola says with deep respect, sitting beside me.

"I know," says Grace, astonished, nudging up beside us. "Normally, Lily couldn't sing to save her life."

"Grace! Don't be such a cow," Lola says primly.

"What? It's true. Last week, she's never been able to hold a tune. And suddenly she can sing like Adele? Come on. Don't you remember last Tuesday in Dance class? Lily couldn't get to grips with a simple tap dance routine – she was the worst in the class, even worse than Duncan Lewis and he's socially inept! Two days later, she's dancing around the room like Gene Kelly in Singin' in the Rain – dancing hundred times better than Shannon Carter who, by the way, was not in the class when Lily did the routine.

And speaking of actors, you should have heard what happened in Drama class last Wednesday. Roxanne Bennie was telling me during Maths class this morning that she and the rest of the Drama class are doing a brand-new retelling of Sleeping Beauty called Thorn Rose and Lily decides to audition for Princess Rose – the lead role. But on that day, she either messed up the lines or forgets the words. Then, on Friday, Mr. Lee picked out the people who were going to do a certain part. He chooses Muffy O'Casey for the role of Princess Rose, but Muffy wasn't there and Mr. Lee didn't have time to pick out an understudy for her, so Lily volunteers to be the understudy for Muffy and you'll never guessed what happened. She recites every line that Princess Rose says from the script – without even looking at the script! Now, she's cast as an understudy. Explain that one."

"Well, maybe… maybe someone offered to help Lily with the tap dance routine and she recorded the whole script on her phone and listened to it when she was working."

"Come on, Lola. Get real. Two week ago, Lily Rubin had the zero factors – she can't sing, dance or act. Then during the last week, several students have started disappearing – they're the ones who could sing, dance and act – and now Lily is some sort of superstar! There's something not right about this. Something weird." Grace turns to me. "What do you think, Simone?"

I think you've found me suspect number one, two and three. "I… I think Lola's right. Maybe someone offered their services to help out Lily."

"Told ya," says Lola, with a grin.

"You two are crazy," says Grace.

She and Lola go into conversation about something-or-other, while I bring out my phone and text Zeke to look up information on Lily. After I send the text, the bell goes and we go back into school to the next lesson.

(Frank's POV)

"Here you go, Rose," I say, bringing a cup of water to her and setting it next to her on the table.

"Thanks, Frank," she says, taking it.

I slide into my chair as Rose takes a sip of the water. We've been working on the computers for two hours pulling up names of any student from Britannia High that have been absent for the past week. Our eyes are aching and my fingertips feel numb from the amount of typing I did. So I think we both deserve a break.

"So when did you and Jenny get together?" Rose asks after she downs her drink.

I blush, a little surprised by the question. "L-last Friday – after the fashion show," I say. "We got talking for a bit and then she… she kissed me on the cheek – as a sort-of thank-you for me not letting her cancel the show. I thought that we couldn't leave it there, so I called after her before she could leave the hall and we… you know."

"Does Mrs King know?"

"No. But Jenny says that she doesn't care if Mrs King knows. All Jenny cares about… is me and her together. And… And I care about that, too."

"Well, I'm glad that you and Jenny are together. I mean it took six months, but you two got there in the end."

I chuckle at Rose's comment.

Then a voice comes on the radio. "Hello? Guys?"

Rose answers. "Hey, Oscar. How's it going?"

"Carrie and I have found a lead behind the missing students. Her name's Lily Rubin."

As Rose types the name into the computer, my phone beeps. I take it out from the inside of my jacket and gulp when I see the person who sent me the text – Mrs King. I unlock the phone and read the message.

My office – NOW!

"Oh, bugger," I mutter.

"What's wrong?" Rose asks.

"It's Mrs King," I say. "She wants me in her office – right now."

"Uh-oh."

"Exactly. I don't want to go. Maybe I should fake an illness. Say I've come down with the flu –"

"Frank, you can do this. Just remember to breath and don't let her intimidate you."

I manage a weak nod as I stand up and head to the elevator. I pause when the doors open, and I look over my shoulder to Rose, who's given me a thumbs-up. After that, I enter and leave HQ to face the inevitable.

xxoOoxx

Oh God. This is it. My hands are sweating and I feel numb as I stare at the door to Mrs King's office and I hold my fist over the door like I'm about to knock on it. I stay standing still with my fist hovering over the door until my entire arm goes numb. I've rehearsed again and again in my head the things I'm going to say. They all sound stupid. I decide I can't say anything. I can't face seeing Mrs King because I'm sure she'd tell me to stay away from Jenny.

But I don't want to stay away from Jenny. I like – no, not like… love – I love her. I loved her from the moment I saw her and I won't stop. My fist suddenly starts knocking on the door all by itself.

After a moment, I hear Mrs King's voice. "Come in."

Taking a deep breath, I turn the handle of the door and enter.

I walk over to the front of Mrs King's desk – where she's marking coursework – and I stand there, trying to stop my knees from shaking.

When she finishes marking, Mrs King finally looks up at me. "Ah, Mr. London," she says, "have a seat."

I try to smile as I sit down opposite her at her desk, but she doesn't smile back, which doesn't bode well.

"Do you know I asked you here, Mr. London?" Mrs King asks.

I want to try and break the ice with a joke by saying if she needed help with coursework marking, but I know it won't go down well. So I decide to try a mental retreat and admit to nothing.

"Uh… no?" I say.

"You're here because I wanted to run by something with you," says Mrs King. "This morning, during my History lesson with the Year Nines, I caught two girls passing notes to each other. I marched over to them and demanded that they should hand the note to me – which they did." She holds up a small piece of folded paper. "This is the note in question I have in my hand. And this is what it says." Mrs King unfolds the paper and starts to read. "'By the way, T, I don't know if you know, but this morning I saw the Year Ten teacher, Jenny Brownstone, snogging the face off of Frank the caretaker. I think they're finally an item'." Mrs King places the note on top of the papers she's marked and faces me. "So, Mr. London, is it true? Are you and my niece an item?"

I sit on my hands and look at the carpet. "Er…"

"Yes or no, Mr. London," says Mrs King.

I want to open my mouth and deny everything, but I know that will fail because the school's CCTV monitors the corridors. So if I say no and Mrs King sees the footage, I'm finished. If only Jenny was here, she'd know what to do… what to say. I try and picture Jenny in the room with me. We're sitting side by side and Mrs King is telling the both of us about what that Year Nine girl saw. And when Mrs King asks us if it's true, I'll be nervous. But I look over to Jenny, where she's smiling at me – she's letting me know that everything's going to be alright. I smile back and taking hold of Jenny's hand, I'd turn to Mrs King and say…

"Yes, Mrs King, it's true. Jenny and I… are an item."

Mrs King blinks, not quite sure what to say. Then – "You and Jenny… you're together?"

I nod. "Yes."

We sit in the office for an uncomfortable minute before Mrs King speaks.

"When did this happen?"

"Last Friday," I say, "after the charity fashion show."

"I see." There's a long pause. "You know, after my History lesson, I went to look for Jenny. I wanted to know from her if she and you were an item or not, Frank. And if she was, I wanted her to explain to me why she didn't tell me. Why I had to hear it – or should I say see it, on a note – from a Year Nine girl. But since I can't find her, I'm going to ask you, Frank: why did a Year Nine girl break the news to me, via note, about you and Jenny? And why didn't she tell me?"

I open my mouth. The words are there, buzzing in my brain. I just have to trigger my tongue into action.

"Well, Mr. London? Would you like to tell me why my niece didn't tell me?" says Mrs King.

Say it, Frank. SAY IT!

"Because she knew you'd react like this."

"Excuse me?"

"The reason Jenny didn't tell you about us is because she knew that you'd react like this and you would do something to stop us from being together."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

It all comes out. "Mrs King, ever since Jenny and I developed an instant friendship since she's been here, you have tried on numerous occasions to stop us from going further. And I think I can conclude why you do it: you think Jenny shouldn't be with me. You think she deserves better. Well, I've got news for you, Mrs King; I am the better person who deserves Jenny!"

Mrs King is shocked. "Mr. London –"

"I'm not finished." I can't stop myself. "I may be some caretaker with no decent education or a million pounds in the bank, but Jenny doesn't care about that – she doesn't care that I'm a loser. Since she's been at this school, I've never yelled at her or done anything to hurt her, I've only ever shown her love and friendship, which she has done in return. Mrs King, I know you love your niece and you don't want her to get hurt, but Jenny is old enough to make her own decisions. So if she decides she wants to be with me, you have to respect that. Otherwise you'll end up being hated." Oh God, what have I said? I take a deep breath after that long speech.

Mrs King is still gobsmacked and is looking more than a bit unhappy.

"I'll see myself out," I say, standing up. I exit Mrs King's office. I hold my breath till I'm safely outside the broom cupboard. I scan my thumbprint on the biometric panel of the light switch and I enter the cupboard. I pull the handle of the mop and the lift takes me down to HQ.

"Frank!" says Rose when she sees me. "How did it go?"

I walk over and sit down at the computers. I cover my face with my hands. "Awful. It was truly and utterly awful. I think I may have blown my chances of ever being with Jenny."

"I'm sure wasn't that bad."

I lift my face from my hands. "Rose, you weren't there. The atmosphere was so thick; you needed a chainsaw to break it up. Let's face it: I messed up." I let out a sigh and decide to change the subject. "Anyway, enough about me. How's the mission?"

"Well, before you left, you heard from Oscar that he and Carrie have found a lead as to who is behind the disappearances."

"Lily Rubin."

"Exactly. While you were gone, I looked up Lily on the database, and it says that she is the daughter of former musical theatre actress, Amber Rubin." Rose types Amber's name and a picture of a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and light brown eyes shows up on the screen. "Amber performed in a number of West End musicals such as Cats, Phantom of the Opera and Les Misérables until 2002 when she was hit head-on by a drunk driver and lost both of her legs. She now walks with the use of prosthetic limbs and a crutch."

"So Amber is forcing Lily into living her dream by enrolling her into a performing arts school, so when Lily graduates, she'll be a West End star, just like her mother."

"There's only one problem: Lily doesn't have the singing, dancing or acting abilities that her mum has. According to her school reports, the only subjects that Lily does well in are the ones that'll be taught here in St Hope's."

"Ah. Maybe Amber knows that Lily doesn't have any theatrical abilities and has created a machine that takes the abilities of a person and administrates them into Lily. Question is where is it?"

"It'll be hidden somewhere in Britannia High. I'm sure Oscar and Carrie will find it."

"Uh, guys. We've got a problem," I hear Oscar say over the radio.

"Oscar, what's wrong?" I ask.

"It's Carrie – she's missing."

"What?!" Rose and I say in unison.

"When did this happen?" Rose asks.

"After our dance class, when I called you. Carrie said that she was going to the toilet. I've tried her communicator and her mobile," says Oscar. "I think Lily's got her."

"She'll be after Carrie's abilities," I say. "Oscar, what were the class doing?"

"We were learning about acro dance – a style of dance that combines dance and acrobatics. It's in contrast to gymnastics. And with Carrie's gymnastics abilities, she's a shoo-in. But where did Lily take Carrie?"

"She can't have taken Carrie too far. Let me trace Carrie's location through her communicator." Rose begins typing. A picture of Carrie shows up on the screen and then her pencil communicator comes up. Rose types a few more keys and the picture of Carrie's communicator turns into a blueprint. Rose keeps on typing and a floor plan of Britannia High shows up. She types once more and a few seconds later… "Got her!" she says, as a giant red dot begins blinking on the screen. "Carrie's in some sort-of underground bunker that's hidden under Britannia High."

"And if Carrie's there, then so are the missing students," I say.

"The entrance to the bunker is somewhere in the theatre of the school. It'll probably be a hidden trapdoor on the stage."

"Thanks, Rose," says Oscar. "I'm heading there right now."

"Be careful, Oscar," I say. "And stay on your toes. If Lily gets Carrie's abilities, not only will she have Carrie's gymnastics skills, but her martial arts skills, too." I hang up and lean back on my chair.

"I hope he makes it on time," says Rose.

"Mmm. You better get yourself down there – see if you can find a way of reversing the process," I suggest. "I'll stay here and arrange a SWAT team and a van for Lily and Amber."

"OK." Rose stands up, stretches and heads for the elevator. But not before she tells me, "Just so you know, Frank, you did all you could. You just have to wait and see what Mrs King decides."

And with that, Rose leaves HQ. You just had to remind me about my disastrous meeting with Mrs King. I think back to what happened in her office not more than ten minutes ago. The look on Mrs King's face when I told her why Jenny didn't tell her, how I deserved Jenny and how she'll be hated if she didn't respect the decisions that Jenny makes. I feel I've really blown it. I shake my head and sigh, and then I distract myself with a phone call to MI9 to arrange the SWAT team and van.