catch you up,’ Eric said.
We all watched as Patrick walked out to their car, parked in front of our house.
‘I’m sorry, Laura. I really am,’ Eric said softly. ‘But I want you to know I’m doing all I can to clear David. I’m almost sure he had nothing to do with this business.’
‘Well, we
know
he’s innocent for a fact,’ Gib interjected.
‘Gib …’ Mum warned. ‘Thanks, Eric.’
She was still furious. Eric walked out of the house and Mum … well, she didn’t exactly slam the door shut but she did close it really hard. The doorbell rang again almost immediately.
‘If they’ve forgotten anything, then tough,’ Mum mumbled.
She opened the door. A tall woman with short hair stood halfway down our garden path.
‘Did someone here order a taxi?’ the woman asked. Behind her I could see Eric and Patrick getting into their car.
‘Yes, I did,’ Mum replied. ‘I’ll be right with you.’
She turned to us. It took her a few seconds to remember how to smile.
‘You two be good. I’ll see you later.’
‘Be careful, Mum,’ I said, ‘and send Dad our love.’
Mum nodded, then left the house. I turned to Gib.
‘I logged on to the wrong system and wasted all that time and now we don’t even have a PC to do it again,’ I sighed.
‘Then we’ll just have to find another PC to use.’
‘And where do we find one? They don’t grow on trees, you know,’ I snapped. But I was more annoyed with myself than with Gib. I felt like a complete twerp. ‘Well? Where do …?’
‘Internet Café!’ he said smugly. ‘They’ve got loads of PCs – and it just costs a quid or something.’
‘Oh great!’ I retorted. ‘You want us to hack into a bank’s computer using a public PC in a café, whilst the police and MI5 and God knows who else monitors what we do?’
‘Oh,’ said Gib, deflated.
I left him chewing his lip and went to get my breakfast. But once I’d put the Weetabix in my bowl, I wasn’t hungry any more.
‘Vicky! VICKY! I’ve got it!’ Gib came running into the kitchen.
‘Don’t give it to me then,’ I replied.
Puzzled, Gib looked at me. He smiled, then he frowned.
‘This is serious, Vicky,’ he said. ‘I know where there’s a PC we can use.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘Chaucy’s got one.’
I groaned inwardly. ‘Don’t you know anyone else who owns a PC?’ I asked.
‘Chaucy’s is state of the art,’ Gib answered.
‘I don’t want to use Chaucy’s PC,’ I admitted.
‘Why not?’ Gib asked, surprised.
‘’Cause I don’t like him,’ I said honestly.
Gib looked at me. ‘It’s Chaucy’s machine or nothing. Unless you know someone else who’s got a proper PC that can go on the Internet. And someone we trust … I trust, who’ll let us do what we want for as long as we want – no questions asked.’
I sighed. ‘No, I don’t,’ I replied.
‘Then I don’t see that we’ve got much choice,’ Gib said.
I couldn’t argue with him. ‘Will he let us use his PC?’ I asked.
‘I don’t see why not. Hang on. I’ll phone him and ask.’
Before I could say another word, Gib was at the phone. I went back into the living room. The table where the PC had been now looked incredibly bare. Although Dad dusted the table regularly, a fine film of dust formed the outline of where the PC and the modem had sat.
‘Vicky, where are you?’ Gib bellowed.
I went out into the hall. Gib was no longer on the phone.
‘That was fast,’ I said. ‘And there’s no need to shout. I’m not deaf.’
‘Never mind that,’ Gib dismissed. ‘Chaucy’s at home and he says we can use his PC any time we want to.’
‘Are you sure he said “we” and not “you”?’ I asked with suspicion.
‘He definitely said “we”,’ Gib said impatiently, adding, ‘Mind you, we’re probably being a bit previous, asking to use his PC. I bet we don’t need to use it. I bet the magistrate throws Dad’s case out. Anyone with half an eye could see Dad wouldn’t do
We all watched as Patrick walked out to their car, parked in front of our house.
‘I’m sorry, Laura. I really am,’ Eric said softly. ‘But I want you to know I’m doing all I can to clear David. I’m almost sure he had nothing to do with this business.’
‘Well, we
know
he’s innocent for a fact,’ Gib interjected.
‘Gib …’ Mum warned. ‘Thanks, Eric.’
She was still furious. Eric walked out of the house and Mum … well, she didn’t exactly slam the door shut but she did close it really hard. The doorbell rang again almost immediately.
‘If they’ve forgotten anything, then tough,’ Mum mumbled.
She opened the door. A tall woman with short hair stood halfway down our garden path.
‘Did someone here order a taxi?’ the woman asked. Behind her I could see Eric and Patrick getting into their car.
‘Yes, I did,’ Mum replied. ‘I’ll be right with you.’
She turned to us. It took her a few seconds to remember how to smile.
‘You two be good. I’ll see you later.’
‘Be careful, Mum,’ I said, ‘and send Dad our love.’
Mum nodded, then left the house. I turned to Gib.
‘I logged on to the wrong system and wasted all that time and now we don’t even have a PC to do it again,’ I sighed.
‘Then we’ll just have to find another PC to use.’
‘And where do we find one? They don’t grow on trees, you know,’ I snapped. But I was more annoyed with myself than with Gib. I felt like a complete twerp. ‘Well? Where do …?’
‘Internet Café!’ he said smugly. ‘They’ve got loads of PCs – and it just costs a quid or something.’
‘Oh great!’ I retorted. ‘You want us to hack into a bank’s computer using a public PC in a café, whilst the police and MI5 and God knows who else monitors what we do?’
‘Oh,’ said Gib, deflated.
I left him chewing his lip and went to get my breakfast. But once I’d put the Weetabix in my bowl, I wasn’t hungry any more.
‘Vicky! VICKY! I’ve got it!’ Gib came running into the kitchen.
‘Don’t give it to me then,’ I replied.
Puzzled, Gib looked at me. He smiled, then he frowned.
‘This is serious, Vicky,’ he said. ‘I know where there’s a PC we can use.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘Chaucy’s got one.’
I groaned inwardly. ‘Don’t you know anyone else who owns a PC?’ I asked.
‘Chaucy’s is state of the art,’ Gib answered.
‘I don’t want to use Chaucy’s PC,’ I admitted.
‘Why not?’ Gib asked, surprised.
‘’Cause I don’t like him,’ I said honestly.
Gib looked at me. ‘It’s Chaucy’s machine or nothing. Unless you know someone else who’s got a proper PC that can go on the Internet. And someone we trust … I trust, who’ll let us do what we want for as long as we want – no questions asked.’
I sighed. ‘No, I don’t,’ I replied.
‘Then I don’t see that we’ve got much choice,’ Gib said.
I couldn’t argue with him. ‘Will he let us use his PC?’ I asked.
‘I don’t see why not. Hang on. I’ll phone him and ask.’
Before I could say another word, Gib was at the phone. I went back into the living room. The table where the PC had been now looked incredibly bare. Although Dad dusted the table regularly, a fine film of dust formed the outline of where the PC and the modem had sat.
‘Vicky, where are you?’ Gib bellowed.
I went out into the hall. Gib was no longer on the phone.
‘That was fast,’ I said. ‘And there’s no need to shout. I’m not deaf.’
‘Never mind that,’ Gib dismissed. ‘Chaucy’s at home and he says we can use his PC any time we want to.’
‘Are you sure he said “we” and not “you”?’ I asked with suspicion.
‘He definitely said “we”,’ Gib said impatiently, adding, ‘Mind you, we’re probably being a bit previous, asking to use his PC. I bet we don’t need to use it. I bet the magistrate throws Dad’s case out. Anyone with half an eye could see Dad wouldn’t do
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