"I'd forgotten about the tree," she muttered. "Which brings us to another point - what happened back then? One moment we were sitting down to dinner, the next I woke up in bed and it was late Christmas Day. Mum and Dad woke in their beds too, with no idea of how they got there."
"How are Donna and Jesse?" I asked, trying to avoid her question.
"Fine. Dad's still travelling the world, going wherever his work takes him, and Mum's started a new... No," she said, prodding me in the chest. "Forget what's been going on with me. I want to know what's up with you. For thirteen years you've been a fond memory. I tried finding you a few times, but you'd vanished without a trace. Now you waltz back into my life, looking as though the years had been months. I want to know what gives."
"It's a long story," I sighed. "And complicated."
"I've got time," she sniffed.
"No, you haven't," I contradicted her, nodding at the closed classroom door.
"Damn. I forgot about them." She strode to the door and opened it. The kids inside had been talking loudly, but they stopped at the sight of their teacher. "Get out your books!" she snapped. "I'll be with you presently." Facing me again, she said, "You're right - we don't have time. And my schedule's full for the rest of the day - I've a teachers' meeting to attend during lunch. But we have to get together soon and talk."
"How about after school?" I suggested. "I'll go home, change clothes, and we can meet... where?"
"My place," Debbie said. "I live on the third floor of an apartment block. 3c, Bungrove Drive. It's about a ten-minute walk from here."
"I'll find it."
"But give me a couple of hours to correct homework," she said. "Don't come before half-six."
"Sounds perfect."
"Darren Shan," she whispered, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "Who'd have believed it?" She leant towards me, and I thought - hoped! - she was going to kiss me, but then she stopped, adopted a stern expression and pushed me back into class ahead of her.
The lesson passed in a blur. Debbie tried hard not to pay special attention to me, but our eyes kept meeting and we were unable to stop smiling. The others kids noted the remarkable bond between us and it was the talk of the school by lunchtime. If the students had been suspicious of me at the start of the day, now they were downright wary, and everyone gave me a wide berth.
I breezed through the later classes. It didn't bother me that I was out of my depth and ignorant of the subject matter. I no longer cared or tried to act clued up. Debbie was all I could think about. Even when Mr. Smarts threw my maths copy at me in science and bawled furiously, I only smiled, nodded and tuned him out.
At the end of the day I rushed back to the hotel. I'd been given the key to a locker, where I was supposed to leave my books, but I was so excited I didn't bother with it, and carried the full bag of books home with me. Mr. Crepsley was still in bed when I arrived, but Harkat was awake, and I hurriedly told him about my day and meeting Debbie.
"Isn't it wonderful?" I finished breathlessly. "Isn't it incredible? Isn't it the most..." I couldn't think of any way to describe it, so I simply threw my hands into the air and yelled, "Yahoo!"
"It's great," Harkat said, wide mouth spreading into a jagged smile, but he didn't sound happy.
"What's wrong?" I asked, reading the unease in his round green eyes.
"Nothing," he said. "It's great. Really. I'm thrilled for you."
"Don't lie to me, Harkat. Something's bugging you. What?"
He came out with it. "Doesn't this seem a bit... too coincidental?"
"What do you mean?"
"Of all the schools you could have gone to... all the teachers in the world... you end up at the one where your... old girlfriend's teaching? And in her class?"
"Life's like that, Harkat. Strange things happen all the time."
"Yes," the Little Person agreed. "And sometimes they happen... by chance. But other times they're... arranged."
I'd been unbuttoning my shirt, having slipped off my jumper and tie. Now I paused, fingers on the buttons, and studied him. "What are you saying?"
"Something smells rotten. If you'd run into Debbie in the street, that... would be something else. But you're in her class at a school where... you shouldn't be. Somebody set you up to go to Mahler's, someone who... knows about Murlough, and about your past."
"You think the person who forged our signatures knew Debbie was working at Mahler's?" I asked.
"That's obvious," Harkat said. "And that in itself is cause for worry. But there's something else we... must consider. What if the person who set you up didn't... just know about Debbie - what if it was Debbie?"
Chapter SEVEN
I COULDN'T believe Debbie was in league with the vampaneze or Mr. Tiny, or had played any part in setting me up to go to Mahler's. I told Harkat how stunned she'd been to see me, but he said she might have been acting. "If she went to all the trouble of getting... you there, she'd hardly not act surprised," he noted.
I shook my head stubbornly. "She wouldn't do something like this."
"I don't know her, so I can't voice... an opinion. But you don't really know her either. She was a child when you... last saw her. People change as they grow."
"You don't think I should trust her?"
"I'm not saying that. Maybe she's genuine. Maybe she had nothing to do with faking the... forms, or with you being there - it could be a... huge coincidence. But caution is required. Go see her, but keep an eye... on her. Be careful what you say. Put some probing questions to her. And take a weapon."
"I couldn't hurt her," I said quietly. "Even if she has plotted against us, there's no way I could kill her."
"Take one anyway," Harkat insisted. "If she's working with the vampaneze, it may not be... her you have to use it on."
"You reckon the vampaneze could be lying in wait there?"
"Maybe. We couldn't understand why... the vampaneze - if they're behind the fake forms - would send you... to school. If they're working with Debbie - or using... her - this might explain it."