Fifty Fifty by S. L. Powell

Author:S. L. Powell [Powell, S. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781848121843
Publisher: Piccadilly Press

‘Nearly there,’ said Dad. The car purred along the road past the Natural History Museum. ‘In fact we could stop here and walk, if it weren’t for that little lot.’ He nodded his head forwards.

A short way down the road Gil could see a group of people on the pavement. ‘Who are they?’

‘Animal rights protesters, of course. They’ve got a more or less permanent presence opposite our building. They’re not allowed to demonstrate right outside the entrance any more because there were several scuffles with our staff and the police moved them on. But they didn’t go far, as you can see, and there’s not much we can do about it. In fact, it’s one of the main reasons I drive to work.’

Gil looked up at Dad’s building as they drew closer. He had imagined it as a blank prison, but the reality was confusingly different. The walls were made of yellow stone, soft and expensive-looking, and there were two sets of curving steps leading up to a huge smoked glass entrance. It looked more like a hotel.

‘What would the protesters do if they saw us walk in there?’

‘They’d shout at us, or throw things, perhaps. Eggs and tomatoes are popular missiles. It’s more of a nuisance than anything, to be honest, although the shouting can get —’

There was a terrific crack, as if something had suddenly snapped inside the car, and Gil jumped in terror. The seatbelt pulled sharply across his shoulder and he felt the hidden camera dig into his chest.

‘Well, well,’ said Dad calmly. He didn’t either slow down or speed up. ‘That was predictable.’

Yellow slime slid down Gil’s side of the windscreen. One of the demonstrators had thrown an egg. Gil listened to the shock echoing through his body and was finally forced to admit to himself that he was terrified.

All morning he’d made himself concentrate on the preparations. He’d retrieved the school shirt from the drawer under the bed where he’d stuffed it on Friday so they didn’t all end up in the wash. He’d removed the button as Jude suggested and cut a small hole to let the camera lens through. He’d dressed and undressed several times, trying on different T-shirts to see which one hid the wires best, and different trousers to see which ones had the biggest pockets. He’d taped the wires to his skin with thick black carpet tape stolen from the shed. He’d even made an extra hole through the back of the trouser pocket so the lead from the camera was completely invisible. Then he’d posed like a girl in front of the mirror, sticking his chest out to see if there was a bulge that gave the camera away, and patting his body to check that none of the wires sprang out. He’d had his desk wedged against the bedroom door the whole time just in case Mum or Dad tried to come in, though neither of them did.

As he’d followed Dad from the house to the car, Gil had congratulated himself for being so cool, calm and professional.

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