Plan B

Chapter Eleven

It had taken a very lost Fran well over an hour to get back to Phil’s house.  Thankfully, Philippa had gone with the explanation of “I have no sense of direction” without much of a problem, although it had taken Fran some skilful lying about the bruises that were visible to convince the girl that she wasn’t that badly hurt.  It did mean that she had to act as though the stiffness and pain didn’t exist on Sunday morning when Philippa suggested a walk around the town in daylight.

At around twelve o’clock when they were wandering down one of the streets near the town square, Phil suddenly caught sight of a bank and clapped her hands to her mouth.

“Oh, I forgot!  I needed to sort some stuff out at HSBC!  Do you mind?”

Fran shrugged, still internally sulking to herself about the beating she’d received from the boys the previous day and wondering how she was going to pay them back.  She trailed after an apologising Philippa, but paranoia prevented her from entering the bank, and she slouched against the wall just outside it again.

I can run if I’m not trapped indoors, she reminded herself, tucking her hands into the pockets of her new coat.  Her abdomen was heavily bruised and gave off little twinges of pain every time she breathed.

Who am I kidding?  I can barely run anywhere at the moment.  I only managed yesterday because I was terrified of them discovering I’m a girl.

She tilted her head back against the wall with a sigh.  How am I going to pay them back?  What can I do to them?

It was a tricky one.  She needed something that wouldn’t get her into trouble, but something that had her mark all over it.  Something that would humiliate them….

Then, as she lowered her head to look around the street, she saw it.  A pet shop.  Directly opposite.

With a quick glance through the glass doors of the bank to confirm that Philippa was still in there, she caught sight of blonde hair towards the back of a long queue.

Excellent.  She’s going to be a while.  Fighting back a grin, Fran eased herself away from the wall and strolled over to the pet shop.  Now all I need is a rat that looks a little like a gerbil….

The boys’ boarding house was buzzing with activity when Fran returned.  Arthur was slaughtering all challengers at pool and a large group of boys from year ten surrounded the table football table, shouting enthusiastically.  Joey and several others from her year were sitting in Mr Carson’s office while groups of first years tore past with nerf weaponry.  Fran dodged one with a marauder long sword and headed up to her room.

She had barely managed to set down the cage containing the female rat she’d got from the pet shop and start unpacking before the door opened.  Startled, Fran whipped around.  D*mn.  I keep forgetting to lock the door.

“Hey.”  A breathless Arthur stood there.  “Brookie back yet?”

Fran wordlessly shook her head.  Brookie’s back this evening?  Bummer.  I won’t be able to work out any more.

“He said he’d be back before half five….”  Arthur glanced distractedly down the corridor, as if expecting Brookie to appear at the other end of it.  His eyes snapped back to Fran and he smiled.  “Well, sorry to disturb – what the hell happened to your face?”

“Huh?”  Fran automatically put a hand to her jaw.  It stilled ached from being hit there.  “Oh – nothing.”

Arthur spared her a condescending look.