Sure Fire. Justin Richards

       2

      It was dark by the time they reached Chance’s flat. It was on the second floor of a Victorian terraced house. The outside looked grim and dilapidated. Paint was peeling from the window frames by the door, and the stone steps were chipped and stained.

      But once inside it was very different. There was a small lift at the end of a wide hallway and a staircase wound up round the lift shaft. Chance heaved open the heavy metal grille door across the lift.

      “Leave that open and the lift won’t move,” he explained. “Gives us time to put all your luggage inside.”

      They piled the boxes and bags inside, almost filling the floor space in the small lift. Chance reached in through the door to press the button for the second floor, then he heaved the grill across again – leaving the three of them outside. The lift started to move.

      “We could have squeezed inside,” Rich protested.

      “But Jade wants us to keep fit,” Chance said. “Come on – we have to get there before the lift.” He took the stairs two at a time with practised ease.

      “He’ll be wheezing before he gets there,” Jade said, running up the stairs. Rich sighed and followed at a more leisurely pace.

      They dumped the last load of stuff into the hallway of Chance’s flat. Chance himself had disappeared inside already. “Was he wheezing?” Rich asked.

      “Expect so,” Jade said. “Didn’t notice.”

      “That’s a ‘no’ then,” Rich said.

      There were three doors from the hallway. The first door led into the kitchen, the next into a living room. At the end of the hall was a toilet. Chance appeared from the kitchen and led the twins through to the living room. It looked like a show home – hardly any furniture, just a sofa and a low coffee table. A television and DVD player stood against one wall, beside an old fireplace, but there were no magazines or books or ornaments. The room was painted a uniform white that made it seem even more impersonal. The only sign of life was the ashtray on the coffee table – full of butt ends of smoked cigarettes. It gave the room a stale, unpleasant smell. A single picture hung on the wall opposite the door. It showed a steam train speeding through the countryside – a sleek, blue engine with a sloping front. In the foreground was a pond with ducks swimming on it.

      “That’s clever,” Rich told Jade, pointing at the picture.

      “Why?”

      “Because the engine is called Mallard.”

      She shook her head, none the wiser.

      “Mallard is a sort of duck,” Chance said, joining them.

      “Where’s my room?” Jade asked.

      He pointed. “Through there, on the right.”

      “And mine?” Rich asked.

      “Same place. Same room.”

      “You’re kidding,” Jade said.

      “We don’t share. We’re fifteen,” Rich added.

      “There are only two bedrooms,” Chance told him.

      “Why can’t Rich share with you?” Jade asked. “Boys together?”

      Chance shook his head. “Because I’m sleeping on the sofa in here and there’s only room on it for one. There are a couple of single beds in there.”

      “You said there were two bedrooms,” Rich reminded him.

      “I’m using the other one as a study. I have to work. You get a bedroom and beds; I get a study and the sofa. That’s the best deal I can give you.”

      “That’s no deal,” Jade said.

      “A deal is something that’s agreed between two or more parties,” Rich said.

      “And do you know what a pedant is?” Chance asked.

      “Yes, I do actually. It’s—”

      “I know what it is,” Chance told him.

      “Then why did you ask?” Rich asked.

      “Dad’s little joke,” Jade told him. She shot a glance at Chance. “Very little joke. Come on.” She led Rich through to the bedroom.

      The room was bare apart from two single beds, two bedside cabinets and a mirror on one wall.

      “No place like home,” Jade said.

      “And this is certainly no place like home,” Rich agreed. “Let’s get our stuff. Must have some posters or something to liven the place up.”

      The room that Chance was using as a study was opposite their bedroom door. Jade pushed it open and they looked inside. It was a contrast to the rest of the flat.

      There was a single desk with a chair beside it. On the desk was an open laptop computer and a telephone. The rest of the desk was covered in piles of paper that extended to the floor and against the walls – piles of magazines and books. A bookshelf strained under the weight of files and heavy books.

      “Oil industry stuff,” Rich said, glancing at some of the titles. “Did he tell us he worked in the oil industry?”

      “He’s hardly told us anything,” Jade said. She walked over to the desk.

      “We shouldn’t really be here,” Rich said, following hesitantly.

      “You’re telling me.” She pointed to a small box attached to the telephone wire. It was about the size of a cigarette packet, plain grey plastic with several buttons on one side. “What’s that? A modem?”

      “Don’t think so,” Rich said. “Weird-looking thing.”

      “I know what this is though,” Jade announced, grabbing a sheet of paper from beside the phone. “Look – a list of schools. Boarding schools I bet. He’s been crossing them off. God, he’s already trying to get rid of us.”

      “What are you doing in here?” Chance asked. He was standing at the door to the study.

      “Just having a look around,” Jade said.

      “Look – I think we have to have certain rules around here, and one of them is that you never come into my study.”

      “But we’re your kids!”

      “I’m sorry, but those are the rules,” he said. He put his arm out, gesturing for them to leave the room.

      “Come on,” Rich said. He took the sheet of paper from his sister and put it back on the desk. He glanced down the two columns of names – some of the schools he recognised. “There are two lists here,” he said.

      “What do you mean?” Jade asked.

      “Come on now,” Chance said.

      “Two lists,” Rich repeated. “As in two sets of boarding schools. As in boys’ schools and girls’ schools.”

      “No way. Oh, no way on earth,” Jade said.

      “You’re not splitting us up,” Rich agreed. He turned angrily to face his father. “Jade and me – we’ve got nothing except each other. You’re not taking that from us too.”

      Rich