Deceit by Deborah White Page A

Nefertaru back to life… What if she could correct the spelling? Could Nefertaru still take all the spells to the afterlife, where they would be safe for eternity?
But I don’t have Robert’s spells yet
, Claire thought.
And I have to save Matthew first
.

    As she walked back along the Strand a plan started to form in her head. As she went down the steps into the tube station and onto the tube, as the trainrattled on through the dark tunnel, it began to take shape. By the time she was walking back up the hill towards Grandma’s house, it was almost fully formed. And it was really very simple. She would meet Robert on Thursday as he had planned. She would arrange to meet Joe there too, but tell him nothing until it was too late for him to try and stop her doing what she had to.
    She would take the casket with her. And then once she had seen Matthew and made sure he was safe, there would be an exchange. Matthew for the casket. She could see it in her mind’s eye. But she knew that Robert would want
her
too. The casket was no use to him without her, because only she could open it. So at the point of exchange, she would have to be ready. It was risky.
    She really did not want to go back to Grandma’s house. Mum wanted her to think of it as their home now, but to Claire it would always be Grandma’s. She dreaded stepping through the door, because every time she did, the atmosphere was so intense it wrapped itself around her like a heavy wet blanket, dragging her down. Making her feel weary to the bone. But there wasn’t a choice was there?
    There was no sign of her dad. He’d probably gone to pick Micky up from school. Her mum was on so many drugs she couldn’t drive.
    She looked at her watch. Three o’clock. Yep. That’s where he’d be. She called out, “Mum!” No reply. She looked in the front room, pushed open the door to the kitchen… looked down the garden. No one.
    Upstairs, her mum’s door was shut, so Claire opened it very carefully. Pushed it open a fraction at first. The room was in semi-darkness and she could hear her mum’s breathing, sonorous and slow. She tiptoed across. Peered closely at her and touched her mum’s shoulder. She was so deeply asleep she only stirred a little. Her eyelids fluttered and she muttered something, making a pitiful noise like a little creature losing its fight for life in the dark of the night.
    Beside her bed was a bottle of sleeping tablets. Strong ones judging by the labels: ‘One to be taken before bedtime. Do not drink alcohol. Do not drive or use heavy machinery.’
    The first time her mum had used them she’d taken
three
. She’d been desperate to find some peace. But three had been a big mistake. Only tenminutes after she’d taken them she was unconscious on the floor, and Claire and her dad had really struggled to lift the dead weight of her body into bed.
    Carefully Claire lifted the bottle of sleeping tablets. She pressed down and unscrewed the lid. She shook out four… one to experiment with, one for the real thing and two more just in case. That should be more than enough. She stuffed the pills into her jeans pocket and put the lid back on the bottle. As she placed it back on the bedside table, she knocked the other bottle over. Not a loud noise, but sharp and unexpected and enough to wake her mum. Or half wake her.
    “
Whoozat?
Oh…” Her mum tried to raise herself on one elbow and look up at Claire. Her eyes were blurry and her hair was tangled and muzzy. “Oh I thought it was your dad. Claire… there isn’t any…?” her voice trailed off and she slumped back on the pillow.
    “No, Mum. No news. But Matthew will be okay. There’ll be good news soon I promise. Just you wait and see. I’ll go and make some tea. Then we’ll get you showered. Your hair needs a wash. You’ll feel better after.”
    I sound like such an idiot
, she thought.
Only getting Matthew back will make things better
.

    At bedtime, Claire took one of the tablets. She lay