Lynch is at one of the computer terminals, frowning intently as she peruses what looks like a news site. As I sit down in the seat beside her she twitches and kills the monitor, then lets out a relieved breath when she sees it's only me. She's used the money I gave her to purchase a pair of cheap blue jeans and a woolly cap. Dressed in those along with my coat she looks almost normal.
"Oh, Laura." She frowns. "I thought you were at school."
"I was," I say. "Something's happened." And I tell her everything. As I speak her face slowly grows harder, more distant. I can tell it's the kind of news she's been dreading.
Once I've finished she gets abruptly to her feet. "I've got to go," she says.
"Go?" I stand up too. "Go where? And how?"
Lynch shrugs. "I'll get a train. Go north, as far as I can. Get away from here, away from the search." She squeezes her eyes tight shut and rubs at them tiredly. "I should have gone as soon as I got ashore. Shouldn't have hung around. Ugh. Can you show me the way to the train station?"
"Of course," I say, but then I'm struck by an idea. "But not yet. There's too many police officers out there looking for you at the moment. You'd be seen."
Lynch regards me for a second, then nods and slumps back down to the seat. "When then?"
"Tomorrow morning," I say. "We'll get the first train of the day. Six AM. There won't be anyone out at that hour."
"Tomorrow?" says Lynch. Her voice is low but urgent. "Tomorrow's no good, Laura. They're out there looking for me right now. They're out there looking for me and when they find me they're going to take me back and Ingleman's going to kill me. You understand? I've been wandering around town for two days now. People are going to remember seeing a girl in coveralls with shaved head. I've got to go. Now."
"Wait," I say. "Please." I look around. At this time of day the library's pretty quiet, and we're alone at the computer terminals. "I think we're safe here. And I have an idea. I think I might . . . I think I know someone who might be able to help you."
At that moment there's a sound from the stacks off to the left. We both turn, and to my immense relief we see Mari standing there clutching an armful of books. She looks at me and Lynch and smiles in a puzzled way.
"Laura?" she says. "What are you doing here? Haven't you got school?"
"Mari," I say, and even I can hear the hope in my voice. I bite my lip, wondering how I can possibly ask what I am about to ask "It's good to see you. I . . . I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you?"
