Forget Me Never

There would be big medical implications too. I realized how many diseases were linked to obesity – diabetes, heart disease, even some cancers.
    Feeling I’d been quite clever, I explained this to Sophie.
    She nodded. ‘They must be planning to sell it despite the side effects,’ she said. ‘How greedy is that? It could do more harm than good. I bet that’s why Dani got out! Maybe she even tried to let Patrick know – he could be from HJP. Then the deal would have been blown – hey!’ She stopped. ‘Did you just say Aiden has a meeting tomorrow?’
    ‘Yup – 7.45 a.m., airport, T3.’
    ‘Someone must be arriving in or leaving London then.’
    We stared at each other. I was sure Sophie must be able to hear my brain ticking.
    ‘Aiden must be handing the formula over and getting the money,’ I said. It felt totally eerie to be having this conversation out here under the street lights, but also exciting. ‘Danielle must have accessed the formula data before she jumped ship. Maybe whoever’s picking it up is going straight out to Brazil once the deal’s done. Holy smoke, this is it!’
    Sophie was shaking her head. ‘But this doesn’t help at all. We don’t know which airport.’
    ‘If we’re talking Brazil, I’m fairly certain it’s Heathrow – my Aunt Meg went to Rio a few years ago, remember? Mum drove her to the airport. Let’s check.’ I tapped in Heathrow’s web address on my phone. As we were waiting for it to load, I said, ‘The big question is, which terminal? Heathrow’s got five.’
    ‘You said Aiden’s diary said “airport, T3”. That could mean Terminal 3.’
    ‘Of course!’ But when we got the page up my excitement faded. There were a couple of flights a day to Brazil from Heathrow, but also some from Gatwick. Worse, the Rio and São Paulo flights left from Terminals 1 and 5.
    ‘We don’t know for sure that they’re going to Brazil,’ Sophie said. ‘Aiden mentioned Patrick knew people there, but that doesn’t mean anything.’
    ‘T3’s gotta be Terminal 3’. This part had convinced me. ‘Maybe whoever Aiden’s meeting is flying somewhere else before going to Brazil? Now what, Soph? This is as near to proof as we’ll get. D’you want me to come with you to the police now?
    Sophie shrugged.
    Instantly I snapped, ‘What’s it going to take to stop you being so stupid? Someone trying to bump you off too? You have the Dictaphone recording, right? They’ll listen!’
    ‘I’m not going through that again!’ Sophie shouted. ‘The recording doesn’t prove anything. Anyway, the police don’t care about people like me!
    There were so many arguments I could have come back with, but I’d had enough of Sophie’s stubbornness. Just how angry I was with her flooded back. She was the most infuriating person I’d ever met. I opened my mouth to tell her so – and then she said in a small voice, ‘I’m sorry about last time.’
    I wasn’t in the mood to forgive her. Too little, too late. Sorry didn’t cut it as far as erasing the hurt and anger I was feeling went. ‘Whatever,’ I said, getting up. ‘I’m over it. Forget I ever said anything. It’s not like I meant it.’
    Sophie flinched. Then she got up and walked away.
    Regretting being quite so harsh, I called, ‘Please go to the police!’
    She didn’t reply.
    When I got home, I realized I’d gone out without my keys. Mum came to the door with a dark look on her face.
    ‘That was Sophie, I suppose.’
    ‘Don’t worry,’ I said bitterly. ‘I’m through with her.
    That night I drifted in and out of sleep. Sophie, Danielle, Vaughan-Bayard, the police, everything – it went around and around in my head until I finally decided I might as well get up.
    The neon display on my bedside clock showed 5.20 a.m. Aiden would be having that meeting in just over two hours, by which time I’d be on the minibus. By the time I’d showered and put on my cricket whites it was quarter to six. Too restless to kill any more time at home, I decided to grab something to eat and amble schoolwards. After scribbling a note to Mum, I headed out.
    The roads were virtually deserted. I tried to focus on the match ahead, but my mind kept slipping back to Sophie. I wondered if she had gone to the police. I knew I should have gone with her.
    I was almost at Berkeley when my conscience got the better of me. I took out my phone and dialled her number.
    Sophie picked up on the second ring. Alarm bells went off in my head. There