The Key to Finding Jack by Ewa Jozefkowicz (i can read books TXT) 📗

There will have been damage to buildings and some fallen trees, but no casualties reported yet.’ He sounded as though he’d memorised the line by heart.

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Yep, pretty sure. I’ve seen it on several news websites.’

I felt the tiny drummer in my head slow his frantic beat, as if reaching a calmer part of the song.

‘How many of the phone lines do you think are down?’ asked Keira.

‘I’m sure that some of them still are, particularly in remote areas, but I managed to get through to Ariane, didn’t I? Plus, I can see if there are any mobile phone numbers. Sometimes when landlines have cut out, mobile phones still work. I’ll get started on the list tonight,’ he promised. ‘They’re five hours behind us, so if it’s six p.m. now, it’s only lunchtime there.’

‘Is it six already? We’ve got to run.’ I pulled out my phone and saw four missed calls from home. I sent a message to Mum straight away, feeling guilty. It was bad enough that they were worrying about Jack.

Simon put his phone number into both mine and Keira’s phones and assured us that he’d be in touch as soon as he had any news.

As we walked back through the dark streets in the direction of home, I felt lighter. The cold breeze brushed my face and I thought of Jack. I imagined him standing on top of a huge dune, the sand blowing against his cheeks, a powerful wind playing havoc with his hair.

Keira squeezed my hand and readjusted my hood for me. We walked together in silence and I saw her twisting one of her front braids round and round her finger. I knew that she was thinking hard about what to do next.

‘We never asked him about the key,’ she exclaimed. ‘But maybe right now it doesn’t matter.’

Fourteen

‘Flick, is that you? Oh, thank goodness!’ Mum and Dad ran into the hallway the second my key turned in the lock.

‘I was petrified, love,’ Mum whispered, ‘I’m so glad you’re OK.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.’

‘Why didn’t you call us?’ asked Dad. I couldn’t tell whether he was angry or upset.

‘I went somewhere with Keira and I didn’t realise the time. I didn’t mean to.’

‘It’s all right – you gave us a scare, that’s all. Come into the kitchen. Dinner’s ready,’ Mum said, making a face at Dad which meant that she wanted him to let it go.

He ignored her. ‘We were so worried, Flick. You can’t forget to call us. Not now – we have too much on our minds. We love you and need to know you’re safe while we focus on getting Jack home. Think before you do something like that again.’

‘I said I’m sorry!’ I didn’t stick around to listen to the rest of what he had to say. Instead, I flung my rucksack high onto my shoulder and marched up the stairs.

‘Come back, Flick!’ was the last thing I heard before I slammed the door to Jack’s room.

I sat on the bed and stared at Jack’s tree. Four of its branches were now full. The first one which had initially belonged to ‘Sol Falcon’ was still empty. I crossed out his first name and replaced it with ‘Simon’, in bold letters, as I could already sense that he would play an important role. I added in everything that we’d found out. ‘Is Jack within the “eye”?’ I wrote at the end of the leaf furthest to the left. I made a note to ask Simon for a printed copy of the map with all of the schools marked.

I went down to my room to get changed into my pyjamas. I sat in bed, staring at my phone. I’d brought up the map of Peru and zoomed in to see if I remembered the rough contours of Simon’s circles. The area looked even bigger than I’d first thought. It would take Simon ages to call so many different schools.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Mum peered in.

‘Flick, darling, can I join you?’

I nodded and noticing that she might not see me in the half-dark, added, ‘Sure’.

‘I’ve brought you some dinner.’

She sat next to me on the bed with a plate of delicious-smelling beef stew.

‘I’m OK. I ate earlier. But you should have some. It looks good.’

We sat in silence as she ate.

‘I’m sorry about Dad’s reaction,’ she said eventually. ‘You know he didn’t mean it. He’s… we’re a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation.’

‘Yeah. I am too,’ I admitted, and I was shocked to hear myself ask, ‘Do you think Jack’s alive?’ The words escaped without warning.

She opened her mouth, and then closed it again, as if scared of what she might say.

‘I don’t know, darling. Sometimes in the middle of the night I lie there when I can’t sleep and it’s almost as though I can hear him snoring in his room. But when I do manage to drift off, I have the same nightmare that haunts me over and over.’

‘What happens?’

‘I’m walking through the jungle with Jack holding my hand. He’s about three or four – this seems to be a long time before you were born. The sun is breaking through the treetops and we’re singing to ourselves. I point out little monkeys and birds, and he’s giggling. Then, everything goes dark and we hear this almighty roar. It’s louder than anything I’ve ever heard before, and suddenly his small hand escapes my grasp and… just like that, he’s gone.’

‘That sounds scary.’

‘Yeah. And you? What do you think?’ she asked carefully, and for a moment it felt as though she was the daughter and I was the mum.

I avoided answering and shrugged my shoulders. ‘Have you been up to his room recently?’ I was almost certain she hadn’t, but I wanted to double-check. I finally felt ready to tell her and Dad about what I’d been doing.

‘No. I couldn’t quite face it. Why?’

‘There’s something up there that might interest you.’

She took me