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said.
    ‘Suppose they don’t believe me?’
    ‘Of course they’ll believe you,’ Gib snorted. ‘Don’t they always believe everything you say?’
    Something in the way he said that made me frown as I looked at him, but I let it pass.
    ‘What about Miss Hiff? She can still suspend me. And it’ll be for something I haven’t done,’ I said.
    ‘Just tell her the same thing you tell Mum and Dad. They’ll back you up.’
    He made it sound so easy. I wished I had his con fidence. Shaking my head, I read the letter again but the words didn’t change. I stuffed the rotten thing back in my pocket and wondered what I should do.
    ‘What else could possibly go wrong?’ I said fiercely.
    When we got home I found out.
    ‘Mum, we’re home,’ Gib called out once we were inside our house. I knew something was wrong, even before Mum appeared. Usually, as soon as I set foot over the doormat, all kinds of delicious dinner smells hit me: sausages and beans and fried bananas (my favourite) or pizza or grilled fish (yuk!) – but always something. Today there was nothing at all. Mum walked into the hall from the living room, her hand resting on her bulging stomach. Her eyes looked strange. Kind of starey and hard. And Mum usually smiled at us when we got home from school, but now her lips were a thin, pursed line across her face. Even her normally neat and tidy hair looked as if she’d been running her fingers through it over and over again.
    ‘Mum, what’s the matter?’ I asked.
    ‘Come in here, you two,’ Mum sniffed. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
    ‘It’s not the baby, is it?’ Gib said. ‘Mum, you should be sitting down. You should be resting.’
    ‘This is more important,’ Mum said dismissively, running her fingers absent-mindedly through her hair as she led the way into the living room. Gib and I sat down on the sofa while Mum paced up and down in front of us. She kept opening and closing her mouth, but nothing was coming out. It was as if she just couldn’t find the words.
    ‘What is it, Mum?’ I asked anxiously.
    I was so worried. I couldn’t remember when I’d ever seen Mum so upset, so close to tears. She sat down carefully in the armchair opposite us. She kept twisting her fingers over and over in her lap.
    ‘I’ve always been honest with you two and I’m not going to change that now,’ Mum said at last. ‘I’ve got some bad news.’
    ‘You’re all right, aren’t you?’ Gib asked.
    ‘I’m … OK. But I want you two to prepare yourselves. It … it’s your father.’
    ‘What about him?’ Gib said before I could. ‘He hasn’t had an accident, has he?’
    ‘No, dear.’ Mum took a deep breath. ‘He’s been arrested.’

Chapter Three

    ‘ARRESTED?’
    ‘You must be joking!’
    ‘For what?’
    I stared at Mum, utterly shocked. I think I was more shocked than if she had said that Dad had been knocked over. When she’d said she had bad news, I thought, Dad’s hurt. He’s in hospital. But not for a single second would I have guessed he’d been arrested.
    ‘Your dad was arrested earlier this morning,’ Mum said. She could hardly get the words out. She sounded as if she was choking on something. ‘Some money turned up in his bank account at the bank and he can’t explain how it got there.’
    ‘Money? How much money turned up?’ Gib asked.
    Mum didn’t answer straight away. Her hands twisted faster and faster in her lap. I looked at Gib and he looked at me. There had to be some kind of mistake. Some horrible, ghastly mistake.
    Arrested
… It was a word you heard on the telly and in films, not something that happened to your dad in real life. I looked at Mum. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The silence in the room was deafening.
    ‘How much money, Mum?’ Gib asked again.
    Mum swallowed hard. ‘The bank says that your dad took … took over a million pounds …’
    ‘One mill …’ I coughed. I couldn’t get the word out.
    ‘The million with six zeroes in