I walked over to the bus stop and see a girl smiling at me, her name was Kate I think?
I sit down on the bench and she looked at me.
‘Hey you’re Abby aren’t you?’ I nodded in response, slightly fearful that she might ask about the stupid rumours Lisa had spread.
‘Well I’ve been looking for you! You get off at Longtree right?’ I nodded again, a bit freaked out by how she had known.
‘You’re coming back to mine.’ She said firmly, ‘Don’t look so scared! I’m not a murderer!’ She laughed, she must’ve noticed my terrified expression.
* * *
When we got off she led me back to her house I saw a guy with masses of brunette curls standing outside leaning up against the fence separating her front yard from the person next doors’.
‘Abby, this is Harry, my boyfriend.’ Kate looked at Harry as if to tell him a message. He nodded and then spoke.
‘Abby, come inside, we have to discuss some important issues.’ His voice was low and steady. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that this might have something to do with Lisa. Anything with a hot guy involved was normally Lisa’s doing.
They both lead me into the house. From the outside it had looked pretty normal but inside it was a mess of weird items and things from all over the world.
We go through to a study. The shelves were piled high with folders each marked with ‘M1’ all the way up to ‘M34’
‘What is all this?’ I ask while taking a seat.
‘Work’ Harry replies with a nod.
‘What does all this have to do with me? I haven’t done anything!’ Apart from throwing macaroni cheese all over the most popular, and most bitchy, girl in school, I add silently.
‘Have you ever thought you look nothing like your parents?’ He asked. What did this have to do with anything? Sure I had always looked different to the rest of my family but maybe I took my looks from my grandparents – who were dead – and the genes had skipped a generation?
‘Y-yes, why?’ I stutter.
‘You were abducted at birth. You aren’t Abby Winstone anymore sweetie, you’re Abigail Rightson.’
My jaw dropped to the floor. I managed to close it before getting the words out of my throat.
‘Then who are you?’ I ask with wide eyes.
‘I’m a spy.’