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“Fine,” Magenta said through clenched teeth. “I’ll come talk to the neighbour.”
“You’re a good girl. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re nothing like Grace; she doesn’t spare a thought for her mother. So selfish. But I can always rely on you. Your older sister may have the brains in the family, but you have other gifts.”
As usual, she never mentioned what those other gifts might be.
“I need to go,” Magenta said. “I’ll be over later.”
“Use your key. I’ll probably be lying down.”
Like that was something new. “Sure.”
“Love you, sweetie,” her mother said.
Magenta mumbled something and hung up. If her mother loved her, then she sure as hell didn’t like the way love felt. It was a nasty emotion. Like slime oozing through her veins.
“Sorry,” Claire said from the stove, where she was cooking dinner. “I didn’t think before I answered the phone.”
“Never mind,” Magenta told her. It wasn’t her fr
iend’s fault that her mother drove her mad.
“I printed out those forms for you.” Claire used her wooden spoon to point to the papers on the tiny dining table. “You keep putting it off, but we both know you’d love to become a caving instructor. It’s time to get on with it and get that qualification.”
Magenta forced a smile as she reached for the paperwork. “You know me. Procrastination is my middle name.”
“That’s why you need friends like us.”
“I’ll take these to my room and I’ll fill them out after I deal with my mum.”
“Don’t forget. I’ll be checking. You’ve been dreaming about running a caving business for years. It’s time you turned that dream into reality. If you don’t get your bum in gear you’ll be working for Kirsty until you’re ninety.”
Magenta faked a laugh as she headed to her room at the front of the house. Once inside, she shut the door and leaned against it. She looked at the forms in her hand. The words jumped and wobbled, as they usually did. She smothered a frustrated scream. She didn’t need to be able to read the form to know the requirement. Her caving mentors had told her about the written exam.
After one last look at the paperwork, she ripped it into tiny pieces before putting it in the bin. She should never have mentioned her dream to the twins, because that’s just what it was—a dream. It would never be reality. Not for her. Not for a woman who was too stupid to even finish school. A woman who struggled to read a simple form. No. She wiped her eyes and sniffed. Dreams were for other people.
With a heavy sigh, she changed into jeans and boots before heading off to deal with her mother.
3
Harry should never have listened to Betty. She was evil incarnate. Entertaining evil. But evil nonetheless. His big brain had failed him. Betty had hacked his IQ and uploaded a virus. A virus called hope.
Which was how he’d found himself trapped in an abandoned mine outside of Invertary, waiting to be rescued and praying that the hill wouldn’t collapse on his head.
“You’re a bloody idiot, you know that?” his cousin Matt Donaldson, the sole police presence in Invertary, shouted through the air vent next to the door. The door that Betty had jammed shut.
Yes. He was that much of an idiot. He’d been trapped in a mine by a tartan-clad geriatric. It didn’t get much more stupid than that.
“Are you there, moron?” Matt’s voice echoed through the cavernous room where Harry was currently trapped.
“Where else would I be, dumbass?” Harry called back.
He heard laughter. No doubt Matt had already texted Harry’s older brother Flynn to fill him in. Growing up in the shadow of “the testosterone twins” had been no easy task for a certified geek. The fact the three boys had managed to stay close friends was a miracle. But then, they’d had to unite at an early age to defend themselves against Matt’s younger twin sisters.
“Flynn says I’ve to take pictures,” Matt said.
Harry hung his head. Yep. He wasn’t going to live this down anytime soon.
“Seriously,” Matt said. “You okay in there? Don’t go wandering off. Stay near the door so we know where you are.”
