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of the bottom stair which sent her scuttling back to her room to dive under the covers. There was a faint tap on her door and it creaked open. She could hear Jude’s breath whistling down her nostrils.

‘Frankie?’

‘Mmm?’

‘I thought I heard you moving about. How are you feeling?’

‘Awright.’

‘We’ll have a group conference tomorrow, yes? See how we can come to an agreeable resolution. There’s lots to discuss.’

God she hated all that fake-speak. Why couldn’t she just say they’d sit down and talk about it? She inwardly sighed.

‘Yeah. Sure.’

‘The staff have gone off and everyone’s in their rooms now. You haven’t had any lunch or dinner. Are you hungry?’

‘No. M’awright…’ Then she added a muffled ‘Thanks.’

Jude paused.

‘So I’ll be off to bed shortly then. If you need anything, you know where I am. Okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘Night-night.’

‘Night.’

She heard the door close and pulled her head from under the covers. Shaking her hair back, she waited, listening to the sounds of Jude pottering about. Someone down the landing had got their TV on too loud. Good. That would cover any noise she made. Pushing the bedclothes back, she reached down for her sneakers and pulled them on. Then, very quietly, she went over to the window, opened it, and looked out. It had been raining. The road was quiet, just the occasional sweep of car headlights on the main road and the hiss of tyres on wet tarmac as they passed. She couldn’t see Martin anywhere. The trees on either side of the street shivered in the darkness, their outlines like shadowy fingers against the carbon sky.

Soon. Any minute now and she’d see him.

She glanced anxiously again at the clock: ten past eleven. What if he’d got sick of waiting for Jude to go to bed? What if he’d decided to go alone tonight and something had gone wrong? What if he hadn’t gone alone, and found someone else to take?… Like another girl? Her stomach plummeted. No, he wouldn’t do that. But what if—? She stopped. A shadow beneath the streetlamp stretched languorously and lengthened. Martin appeared, his head hunched down into the collar of his black jacket, shucking the lapels up around his neck and adjusting the rucksack on his back. He glanced up and raised a hand. She waved madly back and glanced back into the room before holding up her fingers to ask for two more minutes.

Hurrying over to the bed, she pulled the pillows down into the centre of the mattress and bundled the duvet in a hump around them. Turning the light off, she made a beeline for the window, hoisting herself up with ease onto the sill and slipping quickly onto the ledge outside. She paused for a moment to pull the window almost closed behind her so that it wasn’t immediately noticeable, and then looked for her usual escape route. The location of the drainpipe made it super easy, and the porch over the front door was a climber’s dream. She jumped, landing like a cat, her fingers just skimming the driveway, before dashing across the road into Martin’s waiting arms.

‘I love watching you do that,’ he chuckled, cupping her face in his warm hands and kissing her. ‘You’re so, so clever.’

‘The clever bit is never getting caught,’ she grinned. ‘God, I thought she’d never go to bed! I kept thinking you’d go off without me.’

‘I’ll never do anything without you.’ He ran his finger down her nose and playfully pinched the tip. ‘Never.’

She smiled up at him. ‘Where are we off to tonight, then?’

‘It’s all planned. Come on.’

She took a quick look back at the house. It was in complete darkness. No one knew a thing. No one ever knew. Here they were, the two of them out here again: bold, daring, extraordinary, doing good. She’d never felt more alive.

Martin took her hand and they ran together, each in time with the other, matching each other stride for stride, their lungs working in harmony. He glanced across at her and they both laughed, their breath pluming out into the wet night, their feet splashing through puddles. She felt lithe and light and sinewy and powerful – hedges whizzed past in a blur, houses jogged by like black cardboard cut-outs. She had no idea where they were headed. The streets became wider and leafier and their pace slowed. She could tell this area was minted. Trees loomed up on either side and Martin paused in the shadows, dragging her to a halt. The houses in this part of Chester were huge: great bulky shapes, with massive hedges and high gates and long driveways.

‘This one,’ he panted. ‘I’ve sussed it already.’

He led her quickly across the road to where overgrown privet bordered two iron gateposts. They were immediately illuminated as a car turned the corner and sped towards them, its lights whitening Martin’s face for seconds that felt like minutes. She pressed her cheek close to his chest, feeling his heart racing away in there as a whole bucket of love tumbled through her. The car zoomed past and they were plunged into sudden darkness.

‘Here. Look—’ He pulled her closer into the hedge; the twigs and stems cracked under their pressure. The sudden close heat of him was intoxicating. She glanced up. His eyes glittered brightly in the shadows.

‘We’re definite on this one then? It’s empty?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you bookmark it?’ she whispered.

‘Yeah.’

She said it casually, but that was only to show that she’d been listening to everything he’d told her. He’d explained how you could tell if the occupants were away: put a little tag of Sellotape on the door in an inconspicuous place and then come back two days later. If the tape was intact, then the owners were away. It was that simple.

‘And are we taking the stuff very far? It nearly killed me last time,’ she giggled.

He glanced over at the front of the house. His jawline was strong and confident and her heart sang with delight and adoration. This was what she loved: they were fearless

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