Hacker (3 page)

‘Don’t be like that,’ Gib said, ‘I’m only asking. Did she expel you?’

‘NO, SHE DID NOT!’ I exploded. ‘At least … at least, not yet. If you must know, she asked me if I’d used my calculator to answer all the questions in the maths exam correctly. When I said yes, she went on and on about how cheating was beneath me and how I ought to be ashamed of myself. Then she made me sit outside her office for the rest of the afternoon. I didn’t cheat … at least, I didn’t realize I was cheating. I didn’t
mean
to cheat, unlike some people I saw whom I could mention. But Mum and Dad aren’t going to care about that. They’re both going to go through the ceiling!’

I slowed down. Walking so fast was making my legs ache. Gib fell into line next to me. We very rarely walked home together so it felt slightly strange.

‘Your calculator? I don’t understand. How can you cheat using a grotty school calculator?’ Gib said.

‘I … I used the programmable calculator Mum and Dad bought me for Christmas to answer the questions,’ I admitted. ‘I still don’t see what all the fuss is about. Just because I didn’t use one of the stupid, diddly school calculators.’

‘So how did you do it?’ Gib asked.

I could see he was impressed, even though he tried his best not to show it. I shrugged. ‘I wrote a program to do it for me. Then all I had to do was input the number of sides a shape had and any of the angles as given on the exam paper, or input any of the other details and get back the proper angles and areas and whatnot. It was a doddle.’

‘So Mrs Bracken told Hiffy that you used your calculator?’ Gib asked.

‘And she probably took great pleasure in doing it as well,’ I sighed.

We walked on for a while in silence. Then Gib said, ‘You didn’t help your own case much by leaning back in your chair, grinning up at the assembly hall clock. I saw you. Very subtle – I don’t think!’

‘I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known they were going to get all nuclear about it,’ I said with disgust. ‘If I was Mrs Bracken I would have been impressed with my ingenuity …’

‘Instead of which, you get accused of cheating.’ Gib’s lips twitched.

‘I’m glad one of us thinks this is funny,’ I said angrily. ‘I should have known I wouldn’t get much sympathy from you.’ I marched away from him, sorry I’d said a word.

‘Hang on, Vicky. I’m sorry. So what
did
happen? Did you get detention next week or what?’ Gib asked, jogging after me.

Slowly, I shook my head. ‘I wouldn’t mind if it was just detention. I wouldn’t even mind detention for the rest of the term. But … but Miss Hiff wants to see Dad on Monday and she’s talking about suspending me.’

‘
Suspending you?
’ Gib repeated, astounded. ‘Wow! Mum and Dad aren’t going to like that.’

‘Why don’t you do an A level in the bloomin’ obvious,’ I hissed. ‘You’d get an A star.’

‘Don’t take it out on me,’ Gib snapped back. ‘I didn’t tell you to cheat.’

‘I
didn’t
cheat!’ I shouted. ‘I didn’t see it as cheating for a single second.’

‘Then you’d better hope that Dad and Mum agree with you and see it your way and not Miss Hiff’s.’

Pushing my hand further into my jacket pocket, I fingered the envelope Miss Hiff had given me for Mum and Dad.

‘They won’t see my side of things,’ I sighed. ‘Not after they see this.’

I took out the now grubby and crumpled envelope and showed it to Gib. Miss Hiff had signed her name across the back flap of the envelope and stuck it down with at least three pieces of Sellotape. The front of the envelope had Mum and Dad’s names as well as our address typed on it.

‘Do you know what it says?’ Gib asked, turning it over in his hands.

‘I haven’t a clue. But I can guess.’

Gib nodded. ‘So what are you going to do?’

‘What d’you think I should do?’ I asked.

Gib looked straight at me. ‘Open it.’

‘I can’t do that,’ I said aghast. ‘I’m in enough trouble as it is. I can’t just …’

Gib raised his hands. ‘It’s all right. I knew you wouldn’t do it. You don’t have the guts.’

‘Guts have nothing to do with it,’ I argued. ‘I’ve just as much guts as you or anyone.’

‘Then prove it. Open it.’

‘OK, genius. And just how do I stick it back down afterwards? I’ll never get Miss Hiff’s signature to line up again.’

‘Simple,’ Gib said so glibly that I wanted to chuck a bucket of ice-cold water over him. ‘You type out another envelope and put the letter in that. Mum and Dad will never know that Miss Hiff’s signature was on the back of the original.’

‘There speaks an expert,’ I said sourly.

Now, usually I would have told Gib where to go after making a suggestion like that. I’ve got a lot more common sense than he has, but he’s only a boy so what do you expect? But at that moment all I could think about was getting suspended from school and how Dad would be disappointed and how Mum would get upset, especially when she wasn’t supposed to. So I thought, if only I knew what the letter said then I could prepare them – and me – for the worst.

Gib handed the letter back to me and I held it gingerly, staring down at it. It was as if the envelope was burning my fingers and it wouldn’t stop burning my fingers until I knew what Miss Hiff had written about me.

‘I … I don’t know …’ I said, doubtfully.

‘Go on. I won’t tell. I promise,’ Gib urged.

I took a deep breath. Before I could change my mind, I tore off the left-hand piece of sticky tape and stuck my finger under the flap. I pulled it up. I told myself I couldn’t get into any worse trouble, but deep down I knew I could. It still didn’t stop me.

‘What does it say? What does it say?’ Gib said eagerly. He pulled my arm over to him.

I pulled back indignantly. ‘I think I should read it first, don’t you?’

‘Then read it to me,’ Gib said impatiently.

I didn’t really want to, but I didn’t see how it could make much difference now. Besides, Gib might tell Mum and Dad what I’d done if I didn’t tell him what was in the letter. He wasn’t usually a snitch but he could be a real pig when he didn’t get his own way.

Dear Mr and Mrs Gibson
,

I deeply
…

I didn’t get any further. Gib’s head was in my way where he’d moved in for a closer look.

‘You make a better door than a window,’ I said sarcastically. ‘Move your fat head!’

He glowered at me but he did move. I carried on reading.

I deeply regret to inform you that today your daughter, Victoria, was caught cheating in her end-of-term maths exam. Mrs Bracken, your daughter’s maths teacher, prepared the exam on her personal computer. Yesterday morning, when Mrs Bracken returned to her PC, she found an unseemly message – signed by ‘Hacker Supreme’ – which had been left at the top of the file containing the maths exam answers
.

Today, when confronted, your daughter admitted to using her programming skills to get into this file and read the answers. I’m sure you’ll agree with me that this is a very serious matter indeed and it could well lead to Victoria’s expulsion. I am at a loss to understand what made her do it as Victoria has been, to date, an exemplary pupil. Please could you phone me or my secretary, Mrs Goater, to arrange a mutually convenient meeting at the beginning of next week
.

Best wishes
,

Miss Julia Hiff

‘Wow! Double wow!’ Gib breathed. ‘I thought you said you used your programmable calculator.’

‘I
did
,’ I squeaked.

I re-read the letter again and a third time. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was addressed to Mr and Mrs Gibson, I would have been sure that Miss Hiff had given me the wrong letter.

‘Well, when you were talking about your calculator, they were obviously talking about Mrs Bracken’s PC,’ Gib said, re-reading the letter himself.

‘What am I going to do?’ I said. ‘I can’t show this to Mum and Dad.’

‘So you’re not the person who left that message for Mrs Bracken on her PC?’ Gib asked.

‘Of course not!’ That was the closest I’d ever got to wanting to hit him. ‘I wouldn’t do something like that. I didn’t know anything about it until a minute ago.’

‘If you didn’t do it, I wonder who did?’ Gib mused.

‘That’s not the burning issue at the moment,’ I snapped. ‘What am I going to do?’

‘No problem. Just tell Mum and Dad that you misunderstood what Miss Hiff was talking about and vice versa,’ Gib said.

‘Suppose they don’t believe me?’

‘Of course they’ll believe you,’ Gib snorted. ‘Don’t they always believe everything you say?’

Something in the way he said that made me frown as I looked at him, but I let it pass.

‘What about Miss Hiff? She can still suspend me. And it’ll be for something I haven’t done,’ I said.

‘Just tell her the same thing you tell Mum and Dad. They’ll back you up.’

He made it sound so easy. I wished I had his con fidence. Shaking my head, I read the letter again but the words didn’t change. I stuffed the rotten thing back in my pocket and wondered what I should do.

‘What else could possibly go wrong?’ I said fiercely.

When we got home I found out.

‘Mum, we’re home,’ Gib called out once we were inside our house. I knew something was wrong, even before Mum appeared. Usually, as soon as I set foot over the doormat, all kinds of delicious dinner smells hit me: sausages and beans and fried bananas (my favourite) or pizza or grilled fish (yuk!) – but always something. Today there was nothing at all. Mum walked into the hall from the living room, her hand resting on her bulging stomach. Her eyes looked strange. Kind of starey and hard. And Mum usually smiled at us when we got home from school, but now her lips were a thin, pursed line across her face. Even her normally neat and tidy hair looked as if she’d been running her fingers through it over and over again.

‘Mum, what’s the matter?’ I asked.

‘Come in here, you two,’ Mum sniffed. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

‘It’s not the baby, is it?’ Gib said. ‘Mum, you should be sitting down. You should be resting.’

‘This is more important,’ Mum said dismissively, running her fingers absent-mindedly through her hair as she led the way into the living room. Gib and I sat down on the sofa while Mum paced up and down in front of us. She kept opening and closing her mouth, but nothing was coming out. It was as if she just couldn’t find the words.

‘What is it, Mum?’ I asked anxiously.

I was so worried. I couldn’t remember when I’d ever seen Mum so upset, so close to tears. She sat down carefully in the armchair opposite us. She kept twisting her fingers over and over in her lap.

‘I’ve always been honest with you two and I’m not going to change that now,’ Mum said at last. ‘I’ve got some bad news.’

‘You’re all right, aren’t you?’ Gib asked.

‘I’m … OK. But I want you two to prepare yourselves. It … it’s your father.’

‘What about him?’ Gib said before I could. ‘He hasn’t had an accident, has he?’

‘No, dear.’ Mum took a deep breath. ‘He’s been arrested.’

‘ARRESTED?’

‘You must be joking!’

‘For what?’

I stared at Mum, utterly shocked. I think I was more shocked than if she had said that Dad had been knocked over. When she’d said she had bad news, I thought, Dad’s hurt. He’s in hospital. But not for a single second would I have guessed he’d been arrested.

‘Your dad was arrested earlier this morning,’ Mum said. She could hardly get the words out. She sounded as if she was choking on something. ‘Some money turned up in his bank account at the bank and he can’t explain how it got there.’

‘Money? How much money turned up?’ Gib asked.

Mum didn’t answer straight away. Her hands twisted faster and faster in her lap. I looked at Gib and he looked at me. There had to be some kind of mistake. Some horrible, ghastly mistake.

Arrested
… It was a word you heard on the telly and in films, not something that happened to your dad in real life. I looked at Mum. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The silence in the room was deafening.

‘How much money, Mum?’ Gib asked again.

Mum swallowed hard. ‘The bank says that your dad took … took over a million pounds …’

‘One mill …’ I coughed. I couldn’t get the word out.

‘The million with six zeroes in it?’ Gib squeaked.

‘Just over.’ Mum nodded.

‘They must be crazy. If Dad had that kind of money we’d all be living on our own island somewhere,’ Gib said scornfully.

‘This isn’t funny, Gib.’ I rounded on him.

‘Do you see me laughing?’ Gib snapped back.

Mum was about to tell us both off when the doorbell rang.

‘Who on earth is that?’ Mum frowned.

She stood up and went to open the door. I couldn’t think. Nothing would come into my head. I sat absolutely still, trying to force myself to concentrate on what Mum had just said.

Arrested … This had to be a joke … or a mistake. A horrible mistake. Dad arrested … Where was he now? How was he feeling? I turned to look at Dad’s PC which sat, rather self-consciously, on its own table in the corner opposite the telly.

One million pounds. All that money in Dad’s account … How had it got there? Dad hadn’t put it there, I knew he hadn’t.