Thief! Read online

  About the Book

  You’re the new girl in school. You’re just trying to fit in – and it’s not working.

  Then someone accuses you of theft, and you think things can’t get any worse. Until you get caught in a freak storm …

  The next thing you know, you’re in the future. Being shot at for being out after curfew. You barely recognise your hometown.

  And you’re heading for a confrontation from your worst nightmare.

  Praise for Malorie Blackman:

  Noughts & Crosses

  ‘A book which will linger in the mind long after it has been read’ Observer

  Knife Edge

  ‘A powerful story of race and prejudice’ Sunday Times

  Checkmate

  ‘Another emotional hard-hitter . . .

  bluntly told and ingeniously constructed’ Sunday Times

  Double Cross

  ‘Blackman “gets” people . . . she “gets” humanity as a whole, too. Most of all, she writes a stonking good story’ Guardian

  Boys Don’t Cry

  ‘Shows her writing at its best, creating characters and a story which, once read, will not easily go away’ Independent

  Pig-Heart Boy

  ‘A powerful story about friendship, loyalty and family’ Guardian

  Hacker

  ‘Refreshingly new . . . Malorie Blackman writes with such winsome vitality’ Telegraph

  A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E.

  ‘Strong characterisation and pacy dialogue make this a real winner’ Independent

  Thief!

  ‘. . . impossible to put down’ Sunday Telegraph

  Dangerous Reality

  ‘A whodunnit, a cyber-thriller and a family drama: readers of nine or over won’t be able to resist the suspense’ Sunday Times

  www.malorieblackman.co.uk

  Also by Malorie Blackman:

  The Noughts & Crosses sequence

  Noughts & Crosses

  Knife Edge

  Checkmate

  Double Cross

  A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E.

  Boys Don’t Cry

  Dangerous Reality

  Dead Gorgeous

  Hacker

  Pig-Heart Boy

  The Deadly Dare Mysteries

  The Stuff of Nightmares

  Thief!

  Unheard Voices

  (An anthology of short stories and poems, collected by Malorie Blackman)

  For junior readers, published by Corgi Yearling Books:

  Cloud Busting

  Operation Gadgetman!

  Whizziwig and Whizziwig Returns

  For beginner readers, published by Corgi Pups/ Young Corgi Books:

  Jack Sweettooth

  Snow Dog

  Space Race

  The Monster Crisp-Guzzler

  Audio editions available on CDs:

  Noughts & Crosses

  Knife Edge

  Checkmate

  Double Cross

  Thief!

  Malorie Blackman

  CORGI BOOKS

  THIEF!

  AN RHCB DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 446 45379 7

  Published in Great Britain by RHCB Digital,

  an imprint of Random House Children’s Books

  A Random House Group Company

  This ebook edition published 2011

  Copyright © Oneta Malorie Blackman, 2011

  First Published in Great Britain

  Doubleday 97803854041 2011

  The right of Malorie Blackman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  RANDOM HOUSE CHILDREN’S BOOKS

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  www.kidsatrandomhouse.co.uk

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  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at:

  www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm

  THE RANDOM HOUSE GROUP Limited Reg. No. 954009

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  For Neil and Lizzy with love

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Praise for Malorie Blackman

  Also by Malorie Blackman

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One: A Decision To Make

  Chapter Two: Daniel Henson

  Chapter Three: I Don’t Have It

  Chapter Four: Believe Me

  Chapter Five: Tell The Truth

  Chapter Six: It Begins

  Chapter Seven: The Message Spreads

  Chapter Eight: The Accident

  Chapter Nine: The Getaway

  Chapter Ten: A Change In The Weather

  Chapter Eleven: Hensonville

  Chapter Twelve: Answers

  Chapter Thirteen: Mike

  Chapter Fourteen: Captured!

  Chapter Fifteen: The Meeting

  Chapter Sixteen: It’s A Lie

  Chapter Seventeen: Mrs Joyce

  Chapter Eighteen: Traitor!

  Chapter Nineteen: You’re Still My Sister

  Chapter Twenty: A Lesson In Hatred

  Chapter Twenty-One: To The Moors

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Old Lydia

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Back At School

  Chapter Twenty-Four: With A Little Help

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  A Decision To Make

  ‘Anne, I can’t do it. It’d be stealing.’ Lydia Henson stared at her friend. Then she smiled uncertainly. ‘You’re joking – right?’

  Anne narrowed her eyes. ‘I might have guessed. I said to the others you’d be too much of a coward. You London folk are all the same. All talk and no action.’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ Lydia protested.

  The two girls watched each other. The silence in the assembly hall was deafening.

  ‘Look, it’s not really stealing,’ Anne said with exasperation. ‘All you have to do is keep the sports cup in your locker until this time tomorrow. Then just put it back and no one will ever know you took it in the first place.’

  Lydia stared at her own reflection in the glass-fronted cup cabinet. Black plaits tied back in a pony-tail and round, worried, dark-brown eyes shone back at her. Just an average face at the best of times, but right now it looked nervous – almost scared. Lydia looked past her reflection into the cabinet. Small silver-coloured cups for swimming, individual achievement, teamwork and a host of other school activities decorated the wall cabinet’s three shelves. And there, holding pride of place in the middle of the cabinet, was the best all-rounder’s sports cup.

  ‘If I take it, someone’s bound to spot it’s missing,’ Lydia said unhappily.

  ‘No, they won’t. We’ve each taken it for a day and no one has ever even noticed,’ Anne replied. ‘Besides, no one’s going to bother with a sports cup in the middle of the winter term.’

  ‘But it’s stealing,’ Lydia whispered.

  ‘Not if you only take it for one day. Besides, do you want to be in our group or don’t you?’ Anne frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

  And that was the problem, because they both knew that Lydia wanted to belong. She w
anted to belong to the Cosmics very much indeed. And Anne was the leader of the Cosmics, so she had the final say as to who could join and who couldn’t.

  Lydia looked at the sports cup which glinted in the fluorescent lights of the assembly hall.

  ‘So each of you has already done this?’ Lydia said, chewing slowly on her bottom lip.

  ‘I’ve already said that, haven’t I? Frankie has. Maxine has. So has Bharti. I have. Everyone has. Now, are you going to do it or not?’ Anne flicked her wavy, blond hair out of her eyes with an impatient hand. She began to stroll up and down, casting Lydia a studied, watchful look.

  ‘Anne, I . . . I’m not sure . . .’

  The sudden noise of one of the assembly hall doors opening was like the crack of a whip behind them.

  Anne scooted to the side of the nearby stage and ducked down – only just in time. Lydia wasn’t so lucky. Old Baldie, the caretaker, popped his head round the door, looking first one way then the other.

  ‘Oi! What’re you doing in this hall? You know it’s out of bounds after school.’ Old Baldie entered the hall and stood by the door glaring at Lydia.

  He was a tall man, as thin as a noodle and with a face that was so sallow it was just about the same colour. His grey-white hair – what there was of it – waved and wandered all over the sides of his head. Flecks of black here and there in his hair made it look as if black pepper had been sprinkled liberally onto a mound of salt.

  ‘Well? What are you waiting for? Christmas?’ snapped Old Baldie.

  Lydia glanced at Anne who was squatting down at the side of the stage. Anne placed a finger over her lips and shook her head.

  ‘Sorry, Mr Balding,’ Lydia said quickly.

  ‘Shift then!’ Old Baldie said with impatience.

  Lydia quickly headed for the door furthest away from the caretaker. If he chose to report her, Lydia knew she’d be in major trouble but she couldn’t regret the interruption. Luckily it seemed as if she was going to get away with it. Old Baldie switched off the lights. Lydia made her way along the quad perimeter towards the school gates. She glanced over her shoulder as she walked. Old Baldie was still watching her, his arms folded and a scowl deepening the lines of his face. Then he crossed the quad and walked away in the opposite direction. Lydia slowed down but didn’t stop. She heard the assembly hall doors click open behind her.

  ‘Lydia! Lydia, wait!’ Anne hissed from behind her.

  With a silent sigh, Lydia stopped walking and turned around. Anne ran up to her.

  ‘Old Baldie’s a real long streak of misery,’ Anne muttered.

  Lydia smiled. She’d never heard that expression before. She looked at Anne and her smile faded away to nothing. She looked around. The caretaker had disappeared.

  He’s probably racing back for his tea, Lydia thought, dejected.

  She’d been hoping he’d march her right out of the school, locking the gates behind her. That would’ve been so wonderful! Lydia sniffed, hugging her coat tighter around her. The freezing November wind was trying to blow straight through her. She glanced up at the mid-grey sky. She hadn’t seen one scrap of clear, sunny sky since she and her family had moved to Yorkshire. At least, that’s what it felt like.

  ‘It’s all right. Old Baldie’s gone,’ Anne said. ‘Come on, now’s your chance.’

  ‘Oh, Anne, I . . . Are you sure I won’t get caught?’ Lydia said.

  She didn’t walk back to the assembly hall. Her feet didn’t want to move.

  ‘Of course you won’t. We didn’t.’ Anne’s smile was broad. ‘Does that mean you’re going to do it?’

  In the long pause that followed, the howling wind around them began to drop. A sudden thought had Lydia smiling inwardly with intense relief.

  ‘How do I get the cup out of the cabinet? Surely the cabinet will be locked?’ Lydia fought to keep the grin off her face.

  Maybe she could get out of it after all!

  ‘Ah, we Cosmics know a little secret about the cabinet,’ Anne said excitedly.

  Lydia’s heart sank down to the heels of her socks.

  ‘If you bang upwards on the underside of the cabinet, the left door will fly open. Then you can reach in and get the cup. When you shut the cabinet door afterwards, it’ll lock automatically.’

  ‘Anne . . . can’t I do something else? I’ll do anything else. If I get caught and my mum and dad find out . . .’ Lydia trailed off miserably. She dreaded to think what they would do.

  Anne’s eyes narrowed. ‘Lydia, you’ve got a decision to make. I thought we’d be doing you a favour by letting you join our group, but if you don’t want to belong that’s up to you. The choice is yours.’ And with that, Anne marched away.

  ‘Anne, wait, please . . .’

  Lydia was left staring after her helplessly. As Lydia watched, Anne strode out of the school gates and turned up the road. Lydia looked around. She’d never heard the school so quiet. Now that the wind had died down, there was no sound at all – just the rasp of her own anxious breathing.

  Lydia walked slowly back into the assembly hall, her feet dragging. Closing the door very quietly behind her, she automatically reached out for the light switch. Her hand was on it before she remembered Old Baldie.

  ‘Lydia, what are you doing?’ she muttered to herself.

  The hall was in semi-darkness with the lights off. There was just enough daylight coming in from outside through the high windows to cast silver-grey streaks of light throughout the assembly hall. Lydia started to walk across to the trophy cabinet but her shoes clicked and echoed on the wooden parquet floor like tap-shoes. Raising her heels, Lydia tiptoed the rest of the way, wincing as even the soles of her shoes still made a noise.

  And there was the sports cup. It now looked dull and shadowy in the half light of the hall.

  ‘What should I do?’ Lydia whispered.

  If she took the cup and could put it back without being found out, she’d be part of the Cosmics. Anne had started the Cosmics and it hadn’t taken Lydia long to learn that everyone wanted to belong to Anne’s group. Lydia suspected it had more to do with the fact that Anne’s dad owned the local electronics shop than for any other reason. That meant Anne always brought in the latest gadgets from her dad’s shop for the Cosmics to use – digital voice recorders, a voice-activated smartphone, MP3 players and the latest computer games. She’d even once brought in a state-of-the-art camcorder, which was about a quarter of the size of a standard paperback book. Anne had them all.

  Lydia didn’t care about that so much. She wanted to belong to the Cosmics because then she’d be in the same secret club as Frances – or Frankie as she made everyone call her. Anne, Bharti and Maxine were all right – although Anne was a bit too bossy for Lydia’s liking – but Frankie was the real reason Lydia wanted to join the Cosmics. Lydia really liked Frankie.

  Frankie had volunteered to take care of Lydia from Lydia’s first day at Collivale School and now they were best friends. It felt like they’d been best friends for ever instead of just for three weeks. Lydia had found someone like her: someone who loved comics and carrots, someone who hated anything with cabbage in it and who thought that circus clowns were boring.

  ‘So, take the cup,’ Lydia told herself.

  It was the only way to keep her new friends, to become a part of this strange, new school. If she didn’t take it, Anne would delight in telling everyone just how much of a chicken she was. Lydia could hear Anne already.

  ‘. . . all that talk and she couldn’t even take the cup. These Londoners . . .’

  Lydia sighed deeply. Whichever way she turned, there seemed to be nowhere to go. She stared at the cup cabinet, hating it.

  Get it over with, she thought miserably.

  But to steal . . .

  But to lose her friends . . .

  It was getting darker now. Lydia shivered. She gathered all of her rapidly disappearing courage to her like a winter coat. Stepping forward, she pulled at the cabinet doors. They were locked. Taking a deep b
reath and with the fingers of her left hand crossed, Lydia banged her right fist upwards to meet the underside of the cup cabinet. The left glass door sprung silently open – just as Anne had said it would.

  ‘Oh no!’ Lydia said, dismayed. She jumped as the tiny words echoed to fill the assembly hall. Lydia’s left fingers slowly uncrossed. The sports cup was now almost completely shrouded in shadow. Lydia stretched out her hand. Tentatively she touched the handle of the cup. She couldn’t get a good grip on it. Her fingers slid down it. Her palms were sweating. Lydia took another step forward. She wiped her perspiring forehead, then wiped her wet hand on her school coat. Her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

  This was it. The choice was simple.

  Take the cup . . . or lose her friends.

  Chapter Two

  Daniel Henson

  ‘Mum? Dad? Can I ask you a question?’ Lydia asked. She speared three peas on her plate with her fork, careful not to look up.

  ‘Go on then,’ Dad said.

  Lydia thought hard, searching for the right words to say without giving away too much.

  ‘If . . . if someone told you that you had to do something you didn’t want to do, would you still do it?’

  ‘That would depend on who had asked me, what they’d asked me to do and why they’d asked me to do it,’ Dad replied warily. ‘Why?’

  Lydia risked a glance at her mum and dad.

  ‘No reason. I just wondered.’ She shrugged.

  Mum gave Lydia a sharp look. ‘Have you been offered something at school that you shouldn’t have been offered?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Lydia said, shocked.

  ‘You haven’t had some strange person stopping their car and offering you a lift, have you?’ Mum asked quickly.