‘I don’t have time for any more mistakes,’ Tippie said as she reached the bottom of the stairs. It sounded as if she was walking towards the desk and was on the phone, given Max didn’t hear anyone reply. She switched on the lamp.

  ‘It’s his birthright. He should have what’s his,’ the woman said. ‘There’s a big payday coming for all of us so long as you finally get things right.’

  Max’s ears pricked up at the word birthright. It was in the note.

  There was a squeaking sound – like she’d sat down on the leather chair – and a bump as if she’d placed something on the desk. Given Tippie had stopped speaking, it was probably her phone.

  She didn’t stay put for long. There was the sound of wheels rolling on the timber floor and then footsteps approaching the bookcase.

  Max could feel a cramp starting in his leg but he had to tough it out. There was no way he was going to be caught down here.

  He could hear the woman pulling books out and sliding them back in again.

  There was a loud thud, then the shuffling of pages before Tippie spoke.

  ‘What’s this?’

  Max held his breath and listened for every word.

  ‘Tippie,’ a voice carried into the cellar. ‘Are you there, darling? I woke up and you were gone.’ There were more footsteps on the stairs and then the sound of Magoo walking across the room.

  ‘Sorry, sweetheart, I couldn’t sleep. There’s a lot going on. And then the phone rang and I didn’t want to wake you.’ Max heard Tippie reply.

  ‘Was it the clinic?’ Magoo asked. ‘Has anything happened?’

  ‘No,’ Tippie said. Max detected a hint of disappointment in her voice. ‘It was a supplier from overseas I’d been trying to get hold of for weeks.’

  It sounded as if they were standing right below Max. He realised that, if he wriggled back slightly to where the cornice had a fancy carved niche with a small gap, he could see the pair below.

  Tippie reached down and picked up a piece of paper from the floor. Max’s heart thumped when he realised what it was. He couldn’t remember if he’d hidden the coded note inside his notebook or in one of Magoo’s books. That must have been the thud: one of the volumes had fallen onto the floor and the page had flown out. Ironic, given that’s the way Max had found it in the first place. He hoped it hadn’t been his notebook, or he was in big trouble.

  ‘What’s this?’ Tippie asked, holding the page out to her husband, who took it from her.

  ‘Oh for heaven’s sake – so that’s where I stashed you. I tell you, Tippie darling, sometimes I think I’m almost too clever for my own good,’ Magoo said.

  ‘What is it?’ Tippie asked.

  ‘Something I thought I’d lost ages ago,’ Magoo replied. ‘I was just playing with some codes and ciphers – trying to outsmart myself really. I thought it was in my study at school, but oh well. Clearly I was wrong.’

  ‘Why don’t you come back to bed?’ Tippie said. ‘I’ll give you one of my special foot rubs.’

  Max shuddered at the thought. The room fell silent and Max could hear the sound of smooching. He pressed his eyes shut, not wanting to witness a romantic moment between the headmaster and his wife.

  He opened his eyes when footsteps sounded. Tippie had twirled around and looked as if she was about to leave when she stopped and stared up at the shelves.

  ‘Mr Pippin, what on earth are you doing down here?’ the woman said.

  Magoo frowned. ‘But I locked him in the utility room. I know I did.’

  ‘Well, he’s always been a bit of a Houdini but this takes the cake,’ Tippie said. ‘Unless someone else let him out.’

  Max could feel his heart pounding. He was trying not to breathe as Tippie scaled the ladder and grabbed the cat from his hiding spot.

  ‘Back to bed for you, little man,’ she cooed. Max could see her stroking the cat’s head. ‘And I’d better check on those other two as well.’

  ‘I must admit I’ve quite enjoyed having them stay,’ Magoo said. ‘Although Kensy can be prickly. A bit like her mother, I suppose.’

  Max was glad his sister hadn’t heard that.

  ‘I still think it would have been much easier to stay at Ponsonby Terrace,’ Tippie said. ‘Anyway, what about I make us some cocoa before we go up? It always has a wondrous effect on your snoring.’

  Max watched Magoo tuck the page into his dressing gown pocket. It was fortunate that he’d made copies. They were in the back of his notebook, which he was fairly certain was still stashed on the shelf. Tippie switched off the lamp and the pair walked to the stairs. Max waited until he heard footsteps above him before he emerged from his hiding spot.

  He flicked on his phone’s torch and reached into the bookshelf for his notebook to find it wasn’t there. But he hadn’t seen Magoo or Tippie with it either, and neither had said anything that led him to believe they had it.

  ‘Where is it?’ Max whispered to himself. He could feel his skin prickling with a cold sweat.

  He reached his hand into the case as far as he could and realised there was a gap at the back of the shelf. His notebook must have been pushed off – that was the thudding noise he’d heard. There was no way he could reach it.

  Max felt sick to his stomach. He’d worked for months and months and now it was all gone. He didn’t want to leave it. Kensy wouldn’t be happy about it either. She’d want to know why he’d had all of the copies together in the notebook – and she’d be right to ask.

  Max heard footsteps again above him. If Magoo and Tippie were going upstairs he was in trouble.

  Max took one last look into the shelf and realised that the only good thing was that if his notebook was stuck somewhere out of reach, then Mr MacGregor wouldn’t likely find it either.

  He was about to leave when he spied a huge framed family tree on the wall. Max shone his phone torchlight on it and was surprised to see the name Spencer a few generations back. Was Mr MacGregor related to his family? The floorboards creaked again. Max quickly aimed his phone at the document and took a photo, then shot off upstairs into the hall. He could hear the headmaster and his wife in the kitchen. He needed to get past the room and to the stairs without alerting them.

  ‘No squeaky floorboards, please,’ Max muttered to himself. He reached the doorway and saw a shadow heading towards him.

  ‘Magoo, would you take mine up as well, darling,’ Tippie asked, and the man turned back and headed into the kitchen. ‘I’m just going to set the table for breakfast – then perhaps I can sleep in a little.’

  Max took the opportunity to flee. By the time Tippie MacGregor checked on him and Kensy, they were both tucked up in bed, Kensy snoring her head off while Max closed his eyes tightly and did his best to feign sleep.

  The blanket on Kensy’s lap slipped to the floor and she opened her eyes. Her head was resting on a pillow pressed against the window and she was vaguely aware of the feeling that they were heading downwards. A moment later, an announcement from the captain confirmed that they had begun their descent into Changi Airport. The group had left London just before nine on Saturday night and were due to arrive in Singapore at five minutes to five on Sunday afternoon. Effectively, they’d lost a whole day in the air – although travelling overnight meant that most of the children had slept a good deal of the way.

  ‘Ohhhh,’ Kensy yawned widely. She sat up and pulled the hair tie from her messy topknot, wondering if she’d remembered to put a brush in her backpack.

  ‘When’s breakfast?’ she asked Autumn, who was sitting beside her.

  ‘About an hour ago,’ the girl replied. ‘I tried to wake you, but you slapped my hand and told me to get lost. I saved you a muesli bar.’ Her friend pointed at the packet that was poking out of the top of the seat pocket.

  ‘But I’m starving and that won’t even touch the sides,’ Kensy complained. ‘I wonder if I could ask for something else.’

  She looked around at the flight attendants who were charging up and down the aisle, packing things into overhead lockers and asking passengers to open their window shades.

  ‘I don’t like your chances, but at least you got some sleep,’ Autumn said.

  ‘Why? Didn’t you?’ Kensy asked. She noticed that Autumn looked exactly the same as when they’d boarded the plane at Heathrow. Her glossy black hair hung in two perfect plaits with red ribbons neatly tied and her face was clean – which reminded Kensy to check for drool marks around her mouth. She vaguely remembered dribbling for a while there. Even Autumn’s clothes looked as if she’d just put them on, while Kensy’s were rumpled and creased, and it was most likely her hair looked as if a bird had made its home there.

  ‘No,’ Autumn replied. ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Was I snoring?’ Kensy asked, wondering if that could have been the cause of Autumn’s insomnia. But they were on a plane and it was pretty noisy, so surely not. Anyway, plenty of other passengers snored – she’d heard a fellow a few rows back snorting and snuffling before they’d even taken off.

  ‘No.’ Autumn shook her head.

  ‘So it’s not my fault that you didn’t get any sleep?’ Kensy asked.

  Autumn sighed. ‘It’s not always about you, Kensy.’

  Kensy frowned, wondering what that was supposed to mean.

  Autumn began to pack away all the things she’d had out during the thirteen-hour flight. Her iPad and a couple of books on engineering, a notebook and pen, and a water bottle were meticulously returned to her backpack before she neatly folded the airline blanket and stowed it along with the pillow under the seat in front of her. By contrast the area around Kensy’s seat appeared to have been involved in some sort of explosive incident. At least the girls had a spare seat between them, which they hadn’t expected.

  Max was across the aisle with Curtis, Carlos and Dante together in the centre of the Singapore Airlines A350. He smiled at Autumn and spotted Kensy’s mess, chuckling and rolling his eyes as he began to neatly pack his own things.

  Kensy saw him too. ‘Get lost, Max. Just because you two neat freaks think heaven is an organised sock drawer doesn’t mean everyone else wants to waste their lives colour coding their undies.’

  Mrs Vanden Boom stood up from her seat a couple of rows in front of them and quietly moved along, asking the children to make sure they were ready for landing. She nodded her approval at Autumn and Max but shook her head at Kensy.

  ‘Please don’t leave anything behind,’ the woman said. ‘I won’t be wasting time following up on lost belongings.’

  At the mention of lost things, Max felt a churning in his gut. There had been no opportunity to search for his notebook in Magoo’s study on Friday night. He’d tried twice. On the first occasion he’d bumped into Tippie in the hallway and, after a convoluted story about not being able to sleep, she’d made him some cocoa and sent him back upstairs. The second time – an hour and a half later – Max found that Magoo had just entered the cellar before him. Now who knew when they’d next be at the MacGregors’ home.

  On Saturday morning, their father had picked them up and they’d gone to see their mother and grandmother. Ed had taken the twins out for lunch and tried to make up for lost time that week. They’d spent the afternoon at home packing for the trip before driving to the airport to meet the group. Max tried to think of a reason why they should go via the MacGregors’, but there was no way he’d have been able to get downstairs without attracting attention anyway. The twins were due to land back in London on Friday morning and, given there had been some encouraging signs with their grandmother, they’d probably be heading straight to Ponsonby Terrace. Max could have kicked himself – all that work down the drain and he still hadn’t got to the bottom of the mystery. He hadn’t told Kensy he’d lost the notebook yet, and as for the photo he’d taken of the MacGregor family tree – well, it was overexposed and he couldn’t make out more than a small section.

  The boy was pulled from his thoughts as the cabin manager made another announcement about fastening seatbelts and the captain asked that the crew be seated for landing.

  Kensy looked out the window at the city below.

  ‘Wow, that’s a cool building,’ she said, pointing excitedly. Autumn leaned over to glimpse the high-rise development where three towers supported what looked like a ship floating in the sky.

  ‘That’s the Marina Bay Sands Hotel,’ Autumn said. ‘When it opened it was the most expensive casino hotel complex ever built – it cost around seven billion US dollars.’

  ‘I bet we’re not staying there,’ Kensy grinned.

  ‘No,’ Autumn replied. ‘But the competition is in the convention centre so we’ll get to see it.’

  ‘Have you been there before?’ Kensy asked.

  Autumn nodded. ‘I had dinner with Mum and Dad at the rooftop restaurant when we came to Singapore for a holiday a few years ago.’

  ‘It’s a pity you won’t get to see your parents while you’re here,’ Kensy said. ‘It’s not that far to Hong Kong, is it?’

  ‘It might as well be a world away,’ Autumn mumbled.

  ‘How far did you say?’ Kensy asked, not having heard her reply.

  ‘It’s a four-hour flight,’ the other girl said.

  Autumn’s mother and father, Irene and Fletcher Lee, headed up the Asian bureau of Pharos, located in Hong Kong. Autumn lived in London with her Aunt Cara – her mother’s much younger sister. Kensy had met the Lees twice now at their annual Pharos Christmas celebrations at Alexandria, but Autumn didn’t often talk about them. Kensy realised that she hardly ever asked Autumn about her parents either. Her friend was always so self-contained. Autumn and Cara had a relationship more akin to sisters than that of a parent and child. The girl sometimes flew to Hong Kong in the holidays but not always.

  ‘Is that what’s bothering you?’ Kensy said. ‘That your parents are much closer than when you’re in London but you still won’t get to see them.’

  ‘Nothing’s bothering me, Kensy. I told you I’m fine. But what about you?’ Autumn snapped. ‘Is there any particular reason you’re hanging out with the headmaster all the time? Curtis said that you’ve been staying at the MacGregors’ house. Is that true?’

  Kensy was surprised by Autumn’s tone. ‘How did he know?’

  ‘He didn’t for sure but you just confirmed it,’ Autumn said.

  Kensy blanched at having been caught out. ‘I can’t talk about it. You know there are some things that have to stay secret and this is one of them.’

  ‘Well, same,’ Autumn said.

  ‘So there is something bothering you.’ Kensy felt vindicated that she’d worked that out at least.

  ‘Just leave it,’ Autumn said.

  Kensy was stunned by her friend’s outburst. Autumn Lee was the coolest, most collected person she had ever met. This was so out of character she almost wondered if the person sitting beside her was wearing one of those latex masks, and the real Autumn had been kidnapped and was tied up in a dank cellar. She didn’t like to think that was Sidney’s fate, but who knew really.

  ‘Okay, I’m sorry I asked,’ Kensy said. She glanced across at Max, who frowned back at her. He’d heard the terse words too and wondered what was going on.

  The plane had touched down and was now taxiing to the terminal.

  ‘Welcome to Singapore. The captain and crew would like to thank you for travelling with us and wish you a safe onward journey,’ the cabin manager began. The speech continued, but Kensy wasn’t listening and neither was Autumn. What had just happened was probably the closest thing they’d ever had to a fight. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them as the seatbelt light chimed off and everyone stood up to disembark.

  It had taken over an hour and a half to collect the group’s bags and clear customs and immigration. By then it was almost 7 pm and there were lots of grumbling tummies and tired travellers.

  ‘When are we going to eat, Mrs Vanden Boom? That food on the plane was horrible,’ Alfie whined.

  ‘Soon, Alfie, and please don’t start complaining. It tends to be a contagion and that’s the last thing anyone needs,’ Romilly said as she gathered the group around her. They were about to head to the bus that would take them into the city.

  ‘I know you must all be exhausted and hungry, but we’ll be at the hotel soon and there’s a fabulous food court just across the road,’ Romilly said. ‘Now grab your bags and follow me.’

  The MacGregors had gone ahead in a taxi to sort out the hotel arrangements before the rest of the group arrived, though Romilly suspected that had more to do with Magoo wanting to have a shower and freshen up before dinner than him actually being helpful.

  She hadn’t been expecting the headmaster to attend and was surprised that Tippie could take the time off too, but Magoo had met with her yesterday to say they were both now coming, and Gordon Nutting as well. The ratio of staff to students on the trip was more than they needed, with five staff members looking after thirteen students. She’d wondered if there was something Magoo wasn’t telling her.

  Romilly had heard whispers that Dame Spencer had taken ill. She’d asked to see the woman before they left, but had been told she’d gone away on holiday – which was highly unlikely. Romilly had never known anyone to work as hard as Cordelia. But if Dame Spencer was ill, and suddenly there were three additional staff going with the children to Singapore, Romilly wondered if there was something awry with Kensy and Max too. If the twins were in impending danger, surely she should have been told.

  At the rear of the group, Monty Reffell was regaling Alfie and Yasmina with a history lesson about Singapore during the Second World War as the sliding doors opened and a blast of hot, sticky air consumed the travellers.

  ‘It’s boiling,’ Dante moaned. ‘Is it like this all the time?’

  ‘Get used to it, Moretti,’ Monty Reffell said. ‘Arriving in Singapore is like someone throwing a moist, heated gauze blanket over your head. And there it stays until you enter a hotel or shopping centre and suddenly it feels as if you’re in the Arctic. No seasons here – it’s just hot, hotter and hottest.’