iBoy

'Who?'

'The vigilante,' she said impatiently. 'The one who's been doing all this stuff round the estate. I think it's iBoy.'

'Really?'

'Yeah ... I mean, we talk to each other quite often on MySpace, and although he hasn't actually admitted it's him, he hasn't denied it either.'

'So what are you trying to say? You think this iBoy kid is some kind of superhero or something?'

'No, of course not. But he definitely exists. I saw him, remember. I was there when he sorted out O'Neil and the others ...' She shook her head in disbelief at the memory. 'He zapped them, Tom. I mean he really zapped them. And he was wearing some kind of mask ... honestly.'

'I believe you.' I cut a couple of slices of fruit cake, passed one to Lucy, and started eating the other one myself. 'What do you think he is then?'

'I don't know —'

'And why do you think he's doing it? I mean, do you think he's doing it for you, like he's some kind of guard­ ian angel or something?'

She was about to bite into the fruit cake, but she paused in mid-chomp, lowering the cake and looking intensely at me. 'What?'

'What?' I echoed. 'What did I say?'

Her voice was quiet. 'Why would you think he'd be doing anything for me?'

'Well ... you know ... I mean, he went after O'Neil and Firman and Craig, didn't he?'

'So?'

I suddenly realized that I wasn't supposed to know who'd raped Lucy, or who'd been there when it had happened. She hadn't told me. I looked at her, trying to hide the hesitation in my mind, 'I just meant, you know ... he helped you when O'Neil and the others were outside your flat. iBoy, I mean. He was helping you, wasn't he?'

'Yeah, but —'

'Well, that's all I meant. He was helping you, and he got in touch with you on MySpace ... so, you know ... maybe it's possible that he's doing some of these things for you.'

Lucy's eyes were fixed steadily on mine. 'Right. . . but how would he know?'

'Know what?'

'How would he know who to go after? I mean, I know the only information I'm getting about any of this is what Ben tells me, but it seems like a lot of the people who were there when it happened ... you know, when me and Ben were ... when I was ... well, you know what I mean.' She swallowed hard, trying not to cry. 'A lot of those kids who were there ... well, they're the ones who've been getting beaten up or arrested or whatever.'

'So maybe this iBoy really is your guardian angel?' I suggested.

'Yeah, right,' said Lucy, biting into her fruit cake.

'Have you told anyone else about this?'

She shook her head, her mouth full of cake.

'What about the police?' I asked. 'Have they been to see you?'

She nodded.

'What did you tell them?'

She swallowed. 'Nothing.'

'Same here.'

She raised her eyebrows. 'The police have been to see you?'

'Yeah ...'

'Why?'

I touched the scar on my head. 'I was there, wasn't I? I mean, when they attacked you and Ben, I was there. Well, I was sort of there. The police wanted to know if I saw anything.'

'How could you have seen anything? You were thirty floors below.'

'I know ... and I was lying on the ground with an iPhone stuck in my skull.'

She laughed, then almost immediately she said, 'Sorry, I don't know why I'm laughing. It's not funny.' She looked at me. 'So the police just came to see you about that? They didn't ask you anything about the vigilante?'

'Yeah, they asked me about that too.' I shrugged. 'Apparently a bunch of FGH kids were attacked last week by our friendly neighbourhood Mystery Kid, and someone saw me sitting around the kids' playground a few minutes before it happened. So, you know, the cops just wanted to know if I saw anything.'

'Did you?'

'No.'

'What were you doing at the playground?'

'Not much ... just hanging around, you know.'

She smiled. 'On your own?'

'Yeah.'

'Did you go on the swings?'

I shook my head. 'They were all broken.'

Lucy grinned. 'Yeah, I bet they were.'

'They were ... what are you grinning about?'

'You were always scared of going on the swings.'

'No, I wasn't.'

'You were. When we were kids ... you always had an excuse for not going on the swings — your gran wouldn't let you, they didn't look safe, you had a bad back —'

'Yeah, well, they weren't safe, were they? Kids were always falling off and cracking their heads open.'

Lucy laughed. 'I went on them.'

'Yeah, but you never went on the whizzy-round thing, did you?'

'The whizzy-round thing?'

'Yeah, you know — the wooden roundabout thing that whizzes round really fast?' I smiled at her. 'You never went on that.'

Lucy shrugged. 'It made me dizzy.'

'You were scared of it.'

'Yeah, but I was a little girl. Little girls are allowed to be scared.' She looked at me, her eyes sparkling. 'What's your excuse?'

I held my hands up. 'All right, I admit it. I'm a wimp. Always have been, always will be.'

Lucy shook her head. 'You're being too hard on your­self, Tom. You're not a wimp.'

'Thanks.'

'You're more of a nerd than a wimp.'

I gave her a pained look. 'Now you're going too far. I mean, wimpiness I can accept. In fact, I kind of like being a wimp. But calling me a nerd ...?' I shook my head. 'That hurts, Luce. Honestly ...' I put my hand on my heart, it gets me right here.'

'In that case,' Lucy said, 'please accept my humblest apologies.'

'Apologies accepted.'

She smiled. 'Actually, I kind of like wimps too.'

'You're just saying that to make me feel better.'

'No, really ... I do. I'd rather be with a wimp than a non-wimp any day.'

'A non-wimp?'

She grinned. 'You know what I mean.'