The Crims #2 by Kate Davies

Author:Kate Davies
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-10-10T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

IMOGEN WAS EATING her breakfast the next morning when her mother bustled into the kitchen, dressed in her Burberry raincoat.

Imogen paused, a spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth. “You’re not going out, are you?” she asked.

Josephine looked of her. “Of course I am, darling!” she said. “It’s been a week since my color was touched up. I simply must go to the salon.”

“Mom,” said Imogen, “are you crazy? Haven’t you noticed that our family has been disappearing? You shouldn’t leave the house unless it’s an absolute emergency! And even then, Big Nana told us not to go anywhere alone!”

“But it is an absolute emergency! I spotted a gray hair in the mirror this morning! A gray hair! On my head! If I don’t get my roots done, your father won’t recognize me when he comes home!” Josephine pouted. “I suppose I could take Isabella with me.”

“Isabella doesn’t count. If you do get your roots done, you’ll probably be missing by the time Dad gets home,” Imogen pointed out.

“Stop being such a goody-goody,” said Josephine. “You still leave the house to go to school.”

“I have to go to school,” said Imogen. “It’s the law.”

“I must be a terrible mother to have brought up such a law-abiding child,” muttered Josephine.

“Anyway,” said Imogen, choosing to ignore the insult. “I know how to look after myself.”

“So do I,” said Josephine. “Which of us spent months in jail without a stitch of Chanel to wear? Moi! You’ve no idea what it was like at night. . . . No aromatherapy pillows . . . no eye masks to keep the light out . . . no raccoon serum to keep my skin looking young . . .”

I have to stop her from leaving the house somehow, thought Imogen. She’d lost her cousins and her father—she couldn’t bear to lose her mother, too.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the stolen credit card that she’d found in Isabella’s crib a few weeks’ ago. Stolen credit cards were always turning up in Isabella’s crib—or they had always turned up in the crib, until the crime drought. Now the only things Imogen found in there were used nappies and dolls with the heads chewed off. And you can’t pay for a sandwich with those, unless you go to a very strange sandwich shop indeed. “Here,” she said, holding the credit card out to her mother. “Why don’t you have an online shopping day?” That should keep her occupied. . . .

“Imogen! It’s beautiful!” said Josephine, snatching up the credit card and cradling it as if it were a newborn baby. She was still cooing “Who’s a clever girl, then? I think I’ll call you ‘Amex’!” when Imogen left the house for school.

Imogen knew she shouldn’t be going out alone, but the piano accompanist was busy walking Aunt Bets to her bridge club. What other choice did she have? She had to get to school. She had to keep an eye on Ava Gud . . .

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