Eye Spy by Tessa Buckley Page A

her colleague in gushing terms for taking the time to speak to us, we started to push our way through the hordes of other Year Eight kids all making for the exit. I was half expecting to hear Bull’s voice call out, “Alex Macintyre!” above the noise of scraping chairs, talk and laughter, but he must have had better things to do because we escaped from the hall without being stopped.
    To get to the car park at the back of the building we had to fight our way against the crush of kids making for the front entrance in order to go home. I was afraid we’d be too late, but as we pushed open the door that led to the car park, we saw the man and woman standing next to a shiny new BMW, deep in conversation.
    â€œDon’t rush!” I whispered to Donna as we started out across the tarmac towards them. We didn’t want to arrive in front of them gasping for breath, or they’d never take us seriously.
    The man saw us first. He said something to the woman, and as she turned round and stared at us, I noticed she was pregnant. She didn’t look very welcoming. You could almost see her thinking:
not more kids!
    Suddenly I realised I hadn’t a clue what to say. As I struggled unsuccessfully to work out how to broach the subject, Donna took the initiative. “Miss Fairchild? We were wondering if you could give us some advice about our technology project.”
    The man touched her arm. “Don’t forget we’ve got a meeting in half an hour!” he said, but she ignored him and went on staring at us. Finally she said, “OK, what’s the problem?”
    â€œWell, we have to write an essay about how a new product is designed and manufactured, something futuristic like…” Donna paused as if she was desperately searching for an idea, “…like a robot, for instance. A robot that could be used to find someone trapped in a burning building or detect unexploded mines. Would your company be interested in something like that?”
    â€œA robot!” said the woman. “Now, there’s an interesting thought! We’ve never made anything that complicated before, but we certainly manufacture a lot of the components you’d need to make one.” She broke off suddenly and turned to me. “What’s your name?”
    Oh, no,
I thought.
She’s going to report us to Bull for bothering her.
    â€œEr… I’m Alex Macintyre, and this is my sister Donna.”
    She nodded slowly. “Well, you two, I don’t think this is really about a technology project, is it? I think you know someone who’s designed a robot. OK, tell them from me that we’re always looking for innovative ideas, and a robot might fit very well into our development programme. Now, I’m afraid I must go; I’m due at another meeting. Come on, Lionel.”
    She climbed into the car, and the man got in the other side and started the engine. As they drove out of the car park, she wound down the window and gave us a little wave, as if she was a visiting royal.
    As the car disappeared from view, we looked at each other in astonishment. “She knows!” said Donna. “But how does she know? We haven’t told anyone about Hamish, and I’m sure Dad hasn’t!”
    â€œShe can’t know. It must have just been a lucky guess. Anyway, she’s answered our question. Now we just have to persuade Dad to talk to her. Maybe it will be easier for him if he knows she’s already interested.”
    Maybe he would talk to her; maybe he wouldn’t. It was always difficult to guess what his reactions would be, especially when he was depressed. We were going to have to pick our moment.

Chapter Thirteen: A BUNDLE OF PAPERS
    When we got home that night, I noticed immediately that the atmosphere in the house had changed and the pall of gloom had lifted. There was no sign of Dad, but we could hear Nan moving around in the kitchen and singing along to her