The House Swap by Yvette Clark

Author:Yvette Clark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-12-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Allie

HAS A PLAN

“It’s so weird that the Secret Intelligence Service has a careers section on their website. Shouldn’t that be a secret?” (from my diary)

So much for Sage not wanting to read the messages—now she’s started, she can’t stop. She’s been scrolling through them for fifteen minutes while I keep watch at the window for our mums. I suggest we take pictures of some of the most incriminating evidence—mostly in the endless text chain between Sage’s mum and Kristen. We have the shock of our lives when Kristen texts us, I mean she texts Sage’s mum, while we’re reading the messages.

I hear the reliable squeak of the garden gate. More people should let their gates’ hinges get creaky. It’s a good early warning system.

“Quick. They’re coming. Your mum has the almond milk.”

Sage looks up at me with a broken expression on her face. After the text messages we’ve just read, she probably doesn’t care about the almond milk.

“Why don’t you go and call your dad now?” I say.

Maybe it will make her feel better, and it will help with the cover story. It’s always best to stay as close to the truth as possible.

Sage shakes her head.

“Well, your mum is going to know something’s wrong as soon as she sees your face. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Let’s go out into the garden before she comes in. I know Chloe Belton isn’t there because I saw her leaving with her dad earlier. We can pretend we’re cleaning out the Chick-Inn. Actually, I really do need to clean it out. You can help. Also, we should block Kristen on your mom’s phone. She seems like a bad influence.”

“We can’t block Kristen. She’s my mom’s best friend.”

“Fine, but let’s go, quick.”

“So,” I say when we arrive at the Chick-Inn. “What do we know from our surveillance operation?”

“That my parents are getting a divorce,” Sage says quietly.

Chickpea, who is very empathetic, clucks at her kindly. Nestle and Nugget ignore Sage and carry on scratching the ground. They’re right for a change: this is no time for empathy and wallowing in misery—it’s a time for action.

“You sweep, I’ll shovel,” I say, handing Sage an old broom. “I’ll summarize. We know that ONE, your mum’s friend has given her the number of a divorce lawyer called Stephanie Salinas, who TWO, charges a ridiculous seven hundred and fifty dollars per hour, which THREE, seems very expensive without even counting the fact that FOUR, Stephanie Salinas also wants a five-thousand-dollar retainer, whatever that is, but FIVE, your mum hasn’t paid her any money yet, so SIX, she might still be making up her mind about getting a divorce, which is why SEVEN, we need a plan, stat.”

“A plan to do what?”

“A plan to do something. Anything! It doesn’t seem like your mum has got a boyfriend, yet, and she does seem sad about the divorce, so maybe it’s not too late. My mum says most of her clients’ relationships could probably be fixed if they spent a week locked in the same room without distractions.

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