The School for Scruff: 5.

Scruff here. The journey from London to Norwich went well, Lucy and I chatted most of the way there, and the two hours seemed a lot shorter than that. Of course she joked about my appearance and said I ought to brush my hair - but everyone except Sis says that, and the only reason she doesn't is that she knows me too well.
At Norwich we piled off the train. With four younger girls and half a dozen younger boys in Pudding Norton College uniforms we waited outside the station to be picked up by a school bus. I was rather glad there hadn't been any sixth form boys on the train. That might have been a little complicated.
We didn't have long to wait, and the sun was shining anyhow. I left my hat off and sat down on a piece of stone that was either a bench or some sort of sculpture. Either way it was handy to sit on.

The bus was quite impressive. It looked band new and it had 'Pudding Norton College' painted on the side. We all dutifully lined up as it pulled up and the doors opened. A woman in a smart summer dress stepped out.
"Good morning, I an Miss Tully. Form an orderly line! Youngest first!"
Lucy and I got on last. A large man loaded our bags into the bus's luggage compartment.
"Aren't you glad your parents sent you to a private school?" Lucy sighed. I smiled.
"I'm an orphan. It was my sister who sent me."
I did not tell her why. After all, that would have been a bit silly.
The bus drove off. I've never been to Norwich before, and I thought it was a very pretty place. I wished we had time to stop there, but we were going straight to Pudding Norton.

That took another two hours. Some of the younger children became rather restless - those that didn't have ipods or PSPs. At last we reached the gates of the school. The bus drove through, and we looked through the windows.
I knew what to expect, having seen the pictures that Sir Richard Arcos had sent to sis. The others were expecting a gothic mansion. They were disappointed.

"Hey!" Lucy cried, "What's that?"
"The dormitory block," the woman who had greeted us answered, her voice cruel. "Welcome to Pudding Norton College, children." she looked me over. "And you, Miss Hill, fit in beautifully with your surroundings."
"Thanks," I smiled. "It's kind of different from the last school I was at."
We were herded off the bus and Jane and I were led through squalid corridors, corridors where the paint was peeling, windows were broken and grafitti adorned the walls. I could see what Miss Tully meant when she said I'd fit in beautifully - the buildings were even scruffier than I am!
The upper sixth girl who was leading us looked... well, she looked like she wasn't a good girl. She was wearing very heavy make-up, and smelled of cigarette smoke.
"Lower sixth girls' dorm," she threw open the door. We entered a squalid room lined with beds, on most of which hard-boiled looking girls lounged, mostly in their underwear. Some of them were smoking.
"Hi," a girl who looked like a call-girl greeted us. "I'm Rosie, head of lower sixth."
"I'm Scruff," I said. Rosie laughed.
"Of course you are! Jenny! Show Scruff to her bed!"
Jenny was a small redhead in pink lacy undies. She showed me to a bed.
"There you are. Well, so the Baron got a couple of girls from outside this year!"
"He... doesn't always?"
"Sister, Pudding Norton College is a life sentence!

I hoped not.

The School for Scruff: 4.

Scruff here. After the train pulled out of the station I took off my straw hat and lay back in the seat to rest. It was a warm day, and my school uniform was kind of hot.
"Hello! I recognise that uniform!"
I looked up at the sound of the girl's voice. She wore a uniform identical to mine (except that her tie was done up properly), and she was blonde.
"Oh! Scruff," I introduced myself.
"Lucy." Lucy sat down next to me. "I'm guessing Scruff's not what your parents called you. For real, I mean."
"No, that's Lilian. But everyone calls me Scruff. Are you a new sixth-form student at Pudding Norton?"
"Oh yes. You?"
"Guilty. I got expelled from my last school."
"Really! Mine closed. What did you do?"
"Something illegal. You look a nice girl..."
"Well, everyone says so. But my dad really wants me to go to a boarding school. I know about his secretary, you see. I know he's having an affair with her."
"No!" I gasped.
"What are you listening to?"
"Episodes of 'The Shadow'," I confessed.
"Don't feel guilty! I'm sure it's fun."
The train sped on, out of London and into the Essex countryside. I was sorry to leave London behind, but it was only for a week or so.
Where were Sis and Emily, I wondered.

[Girl in Grey here] Comparing times we found that Emily and I were just leaving our home outside the Congestion Charging zone. We found that Emily was practically invisible against the black leather seats of the Jag, so she sat in the front passenger seat, and I had someone to chat to.
Of course I was wearing a light summer dress, not my Girl in Grey outfit. That came out at night.
We got from London to Norwich in about two hours. It took another two hours of driving down winding roads to get to Little Pudding. Sir Richard Arcos' house was a welcome sight, with its promises of a nice comfy chair and a friend to talk to.

I parked outside the Hall, jumped out of the car and ran up to the front door, where I rang the bell. I stood there a while, waiting and trying to look smart. Suddenly the door opened, and a tall white-haired gentleman with whiskers stepped out.
"Why, if it isn't our very own lady crime-fighter!" He lifted me clean off my feet. "Sam!"
His younger wife, Lady Samantha (younger by only about sixteen years) ran from the drawing-room to greet me.
"Well! The Girl in Grey in pink!" she exclaimed. Her voice betrayed her American origins.
"I brought a friend," I said, my feet still six inches off the ground. "Emily!"
Emily ran from the car. Lady Arcos squealed in delight.
"Gee! A real honest-to-goodness ghost!"
"I'm not a ghost," Emily prodded Lady Arcos. "An Indian occultist did this to me. I'm just a girl."
"Oh! Then you're kinda a funny-looking girl."
Suddenly Lady Arcos hugged Emily. She laughed.
"Yeah! Honey, I like her."
"I'm glad you do," Sir Richard put me down. "Shall we go inside."
We went inside. The house looked just the way an old English manor ought to, venerable and ancient, suits of armour here and there, weapons on the walls, and family portraits.
"Not mine," Sir Richard said as he saw me looking at them. "Some of 'em belong to Sam, and I bought the others with the house. Along with the ghost, I was told, but I've never seen her."
"Her?"
"Yes, a charming female ghost. The legend is that a former lady of the house got set on fire one cold winter's night, and she still roams the house, burning and screaming. Sam has slep for three weeks in the haunted bedroom, but she never saw or heard anything."
"Yeah. It's all a con," Lady Arcos muttered.
"But you're not here to discuss ghosts. We'll take your junk up to your room later."
"Room?"
"When you said you were bringing a young friend, Sam assumed she'd want to share a room with you. Doesn't she?"
"I'll be fine," Emily replied.
"Splendid! Then come into my Library."
We were conducted into a room lined with books. We sat down on a comfy leather sofa and Sir Richard paced in front of the firplace.

"I haven't met your sister, lass. I hope she's made of strong stuff."
"Scruff? You bet."
"Good, because Pudding Norton College is in fact an institution dedicated to training up criminals. The headmaster, Baron von Zstrongarm, is the most monstrous villain I've met in a long time - and we've met some pretty monstrous ones, haven't we, Sam?"
"Yeah," Lady Arcos smiled. She was a small, attractive lady, and she'd been a film star many years ago.
"Your sister will be in a place where every influence is intended to ruin her."
"Emily can be our contact."
"Yes, that's an idea. She looks like a ghost..."
"I can make myself invisible too," Emily demonstrated. Sir Richard grinned.
"By jove! You're a handy girl to have about the place!"
"Can we adopt her?" Lady Arcos asked. Sir Richard groaned.
"Sam! We've adopted more than a dozen girls over the course of our married life. I know you believe in large families, but don't you think fifteen girls ranging in age from senty-odd to twenty-three is enough?"
"No."
"Then we'll see. I think Emily has her own ideas."
"I do," Emily affirmed.
"Yeah!" Lady Arcos laughed. "I like girls who have their own ideas."
"Of course you do, they remind you of yourself. Now, I'll help get your junk in and we'll go down the pub."
"And Emily?"
"No-one will dare ask questions about my guests, lass. Sam has a regrettable habit of killing people who do."

I like the Arcos family.

The School for Scruff: 3.

We bought Scruff her school uniform, and it looked very smart too. Or it would have if she'd brushed her hair or done her tie up properly. But then, we don't call her Scruff for nothing!
The days went quickly. We had a lot of things to buy, books, pens, pencils, all the sort of things you have to buy when you're packing your little sister off to boarding school. Ms. Madison, the Green Man, ad the Outsider did their best to help, but poor old Emily's a little limited by her appearance.
And Lynette told me that she and the Green Man were going away on a case, so I'd have to look after the Outsider (she can't exactly go shopping looking like that, can she?).

At last the day came. Scruff actually woke early, and when it came for me to use the shower, I found it was occupied.
"Scruff!" I called.
"Sis!" she replied.
"Just checking!"
I returned to the kitchen to find Emily making breakfast. She was looking very black and smoky that morning.
"Hello!" she greeted me. "What's going on?"
"First I'm dropping Scruff off at Liverpool Street Station, then you and I are driving from London to Sir Richard Arcos' place at Little Pudding. Can you stay invisible that long, or will we have to resort to disguising you as a Muslim?"
"I'll stay invisible. Won't we be in your grey car?"
"Too risky. And not enough space in the boot for our things. No, we'll go in my Jaguar."
"And you don't want me to help load the car?"
"Emily, you'd scare the neighbours."
Scruff emerged from the shower wrapped in a towel and went off to dress. I quickly nipped into the shower before Emily could.

I sdropped Scruff and her luggage off at Liverpool Street Station, helping her load the things into the carriage. In her school uniform (Pudding Norton College likes to know who its students are) she looked kind of funny.
"Okay, Scruff, don't worry," I told her. She laughed.
"I won't." She started to get her ipod out of the pocket in her gymn-slip and I laughed.
"Then behave yourself. I'll see you later. You've got everything?"
"I think so."
"Good. So long."
"'Bye, Sis!"
The tannoy started telling everyone who wasn't travelling to leave the train, so I did. I waved Scruff off, then returned home to find that Emily had got all her luggage ready. Not that it was a lot, Apparently being black and smoky rather limits a girl's wardrobe.
"We're off?" she asked eagerly a I entered the room. I nodded.
"We're off, Emily. Just as soon as I've loaded the car."
And we were. As I drove away from the front of the building, an invisible Outsider in the front passenger seat and everything I might need in the boot and the back seat, I could not help wondering what this strange adventure would bring.
And I rather envied Scruff, sitting on the train with her ipod while I had to drive to Norfolk.

Urban Legend?

I got this e-mail in my inbox this morning:

Dear Sophie.

The most scary thing happened to me on Friday night while I was walking home. I'd been out with some friends to see 'Casino Royale', and I couldn't get a cab home, so I was walking. I know that's always wrong for a girl on her own, and I'm NEVER going to do it again, not after what happened.
I tried to take a shortcut I know, and that was a mistake. In a dark, deserted alley I realised I was being followed by a man. I walked faster, but so did he. I ended up running, and he was running after me. I was so scared that I must have taken a wrong turning, because I ended up at the end of a blind alley, with no way to escape. The man was still after me. I tried to get past him, but he grabbed me and pulled a knife.
"You don't want to get killed, do you?" he asked me. I didn't. He then said he wanted to rape me, and if I tried to escape I'd die.
I was terrified, but there was nothing I could do about it. He was so strong!
He was going to rape me, and I couldn't do anything about it.
"Stop!"
It was a little girl's voice, and I was afraid he'd kill her. But when I looked it wasn't an ordinary little girl. It was like a smoky outline, black with glowing red eyes that seemed to burn like fire. The rapist let go of me and stared at the ghost. I just ran.
I went straight to the police. They found the rapist still in the alleyway, with his own knife in his heart.
Now here's the really weird bit. In Victorian times a little girl was raped and murdered in that alleyway. I think it was her ghost that saved me from the same fate.

I know what you think. But you ask the police. There was a CCTV camera at the entrance to that alley, and no-one except me and the rapist ever went in at the time.

Your friend Abbie


[Girl in Grey comments: Usually I throw out stories like these, but I know this one's real. Why? Emily confirmed it for me. Yes, Emily Fairbairn, alias The Outsider, was responsible. She's in my shower right now, so I got the information first hand.
The business with the little girl in the Victorian era is just a coincidence. And I'm sure Abbie would have found another explanation if there hadn't been a murder story connected with the alley.]

The School for Scruff: 2.

Scruff and I arrived at the May Fair hotel a few minutes before her interview was due to start. I led the way into the lobby.
"Miss Hill?"
The man's voice was cultured, and he was dressed in a hotel uniform
"Yes?" I replied.
"I was told to look out for a young woman with a scruffy teenaged female in tow. Would you come with me please?"
Fighting the urge to do the man serious injury, I followed him from the lobby, Scruff following me.
The May Fair is not my favourite hotel in London. I like older buildings, with cosy nooks where a girl can hide. But I rather enjoyed seeing the looks on the faces of the hotel's patrons as they saw Scruff. I was dressed conservatively, but smartly, in a tailored suit of grey, a pair of stockings, and shiny black shoes. I'd aloso adopted my brilliant Clark Kent-style disguise of a pair of spectacles. Unfortunately there's not a lot you can do to alter a bob in terms of hair styling. Still, the glasses added a certain studiousness and severity to my appearance that is not usually associated with me. By anyone.
We were shown into a panelled room and three gentlemen and two ladies rose to greet us.
"Miss Hill," a tall, handsome man in a suit extended a hand to me.
"Which one?" I asked. "We're sisters."
"The older one," he smiled. His accent said that he was not British."
"That would be me," I told him. "Jane Hill. This is Scruff, my sister."
"Scruff? You said her name was..."
I laughed.
"Sorry! It is, but everyone calls her Scruff."
"I see. Sorry, I am not English. Baron Augustus Von Sztrongarm. I am the headmaster of Pudding Norton College. Of course we are always glad to have new students."
"I know. Scruff's really looking forward to it. I know you'll have heard she was expelled from her last school, but I think she's learned her lesson."
Of course Scruff had not been expelled, but I persuaded her old headmaster to tell von Sztrongarm that she had been. It made her sound rather disreputable.
"Of course she has. Well, Lilian..."
"It's Scruff," she insisted.
"Sorry, Scruff. Scruff, your sister believes you will do well at our School. We have a long history, and many distinguished former pupils. One, Miss Lucy Armitage, is making a million a year..."
As a high-class call-girl, I thought.
The Baron turned back to me.
"Miss Hill, you know it is rather irregular for us to take a new sixth-form student the week before term starts."
"Oh, I know. Only I can't find any other school to take Scruff, and she really needs a good education. If you don't take her she might have to go to a state school!" I spoke the last two words as if they represented a disaster of epic proportions. They don't, but Baron Von Sztrongarm didn't know that. It made me sound a snob, the sort of snob who might be fooled into sending her kid sister to Pudding Norton College.
"Of course, Miss Hill. Thankfully there is a place open in our lower sixth, and I think that Lili.. ah, Scruff will fit into it quite well. Here are our school uniform requirements. You know that we require two terms' fees in advance."
"I have the cheque here," I handed it over. Business expenses, I told myself, and expenses I'd recoup about a hundred times if I played this right.
These are the trustees," The Baron indicated the other people. "Technically they have to be present at interviews for new students. But you are a special case, Miss Hill. Thank you." He stood up as I did and kissed my hand.
"Thank you, Miss Hill. I am sure Scruff will enjoy life at Pudding Norton College. Scruff, we shall meet again next week."
"Thanks," I smiled. "You've no idea how important this is to me!"
"I am sure I do not, dear lady."
And with that we left. Out in the street Scruff laughed.
"Sis! You were hilarious!"
"I hope you realise my act got you in. Now come on - we have to get you kitted out for your new school!"

London's 'Phantom Hitch-hiker'

The phantom hitch-hiker is an old urban legend, and Frank Paston knew that. So when the East End Gangster saw a shadowy figure in the back of his car, he was more than a little surprised. He was even more surprised when the figure slipped into the front passenger seat and looked at him with glowing red eyes.

"I know what you did," the phantom, a transparent, black smoke-like figure, told him. It spoke in a quiet voice, the voice of a little girl.

Paston stared in horror at the awful thing.

"No!" he cried. "I was so careful! It was the perfect crime!"

"But I know. And I came back. Why did you do it?"

By this time Paston was making a gibbering noise, and threatening to lose control of his bladder. Like a lot of gangsters and crooks, he was a coward alone and without a gun. Not that he didn't have a gun with him, he just thought it wouldn't work on the ghost.

Phantom hitch-hikers he could deal with, but this was far more personal.

"I'll tell the police!" he cried. "I'll confess! I'll even tell them where I hid the bodies! Just leave me alone!"

"Drive to the police station, then."

Paston drove to the police station, and there the awful ghost faded from sight. The terrified crook spent all night confessing, first the the murder of a journalist and her young daughter back in 2001, and then to every other crime he could remember being involved in. He yelled about the ghost, but of course no-one believed him.

I was in the kitchen when the Outsider entered the locked flat and flopped on the sofa. Scruff greeted her with a friendly 'hi'.

"Who's there?" I called.

"It's Emily! She came in through the keyhole!"

I left the supper for a moment and went into the living-room where Scruff and Emily were.

"What are you doing in this part of London?" I asked.

"Dealing with a crook. I got in his car and said 'I know what you did.' He started confessing to a murder, and turned himself in."

"How did you know about the murder?" Scruff asked. Emily (alias the Outsider) laughed.

"I didn't. But I knew he was a criminal and so 'I know what you did' would trigger his guilty conscience on something."

Emily's wonderful. Of course, her being black and smoky with glowing red eyes all the time is tough, but her 'phantom hitch-hiker' routine is brilliant.

But she's no ghost. Her appetite disproves that!

The School For Scruff: 1.

I get up early. Not that I enjoy it, but seventeen cats gang up on me every morning and force me to get out of bed and feed them. And then I might as well stay out of bed and take my shower before Scruff.

Scruff is a late riser. She sleeps in, then hangs around in her pyjamas for a while. I still love her, of course. Who couldn't love Scruff?

I was in the kitchen making breakfast when she came in.

"Hi there," I said cheerily. She brushed untidy hair out of her face and smiled back.

"Hi there, Scruff. Sleep well?"

"Of course. Your place has comfy beds."

"Expensive too. We have to see the board of Pudding Norton College at the May Fair hotel this afternoon, Scruff."

"I'm not going to dress up for it," she protested. I laughed.

"I'm not Lynette, Scruff! But at least put on a sweater. I don't think they want to see that bandage on your arm."
"It's not my fault!" she protested. "It's your cats!"

"Still, cover up that bandage. I'll be paying the college a little extra so they'll accept you after you dropped out of your old school with four GCSEs."

"Sis! You know I was having problems!"

"Yes. I don't blame you. Come on, breakfast's ready. I'll tell you about Pudding Norton College."

I told her. Sir Richard Arcos, former movie mogul and now rural squire, had been pretty specific in some of what he had told me. This, this, this, this, this and this. Scruff gasped as I spoke.

"Wow!" she said, "I'm going to THAT place?"

"Oh, yes. I'll be staying with Sir Richard and Lady Arcos in the manor house, not here in London, so you'll be safe."

"I won't. But I don't mind. I'm not some fragile little girl..."

"Oh, I know." I served out her breakfast. "So you'll do it?"

"Of course!" she laughed. "Sounds fun. I get sent to school at a notorious place as a sort of detective!"

I shook my head. I hoped I had not made some horrible mistake.

Roses are Blue: 12

I threw open the car door and jumped in. Scruff looked up at me brightly.
"Hi," she said. "You escaped?"
"I escaped. Someone emptied the Prior's bank account, and he lost his temper. He forgot that the outside of banks are covered by CCTV cameras. What did you do?"
"I hacked into their device, and it led back into their computer system. I found the Prior's bank details and I emptied his account into mine..."
"And because you're the daughter of a millionaire, the bank won't be too worried."
"Well, I hope not. I don't spend a lot..."
"Because most girls spend most on clothes, and you get yours from charity shops?"
"Exactly. You buy all those things from iTunes..."
"And you use them? I know."
I started the car and drove off. Scruff shut the glove-compartment and sat back, smiling.
"What happens when they activate that thing they fixed in the Stock Exchange?" I asked.
"Oh, it'll shut down. But they won't, will they?"
"No," I smiled. "The Girl in Grey won."
Twenty minutes later we were at home. I was holding Samantha on my knee and Scruff, back in her own clothes, was on the sofa. We were watching the TV news.

"And the police say that they have foiled a high-tech plot against the London Stock Exchange," the reporter said. "Rumours that the mysterious Girl in Grey was involved have not been confirmed."
"Hey!" Scruff objected.
"Scruff, I don't care," I replied. "I'm just glad it's over."
"So, what next?" she asked.
"Well, you've just been sitting around here. Why don't we send you to school?"
"Sis!"
"Sir Richard Arcos, a friend of mine who lives in Norfolk, has a school near him that he thinks is very... well, it's probably criminal. He'd like me to investigate, so I've said I'll enroll you in the sixth-form as our girl on the inside."
"Oh boy," Scruff stretched and yawned. "I'm going to have to sleep on it!"
"We're going to see the trustees to-morrow for an interview," I said. "So behave!"

I wondered how it would turn out as I saw her go off to bed.

Next: The School for Scruff!

Roses are Blue, 11.

I stood still, looking down at the little dot of red laser light that gleamed over my heart. The prior laughed wickedly.
"Nothing in the world can stop the triumph of the League of the Blue Rose!" he cried. "For centuries we have prepared for this moment, and now the hour of our triumph is come!"
"The device is fitted," one of the brothers reported, descending the stairs of the stock exchange building. "As soon as the exchange opens, it will begin to operate."
"We shall be rich beyond the dreams of avarice!" the Prior laughed. "Take her to the van!"
I was roughly removed from the Stock Exchange, and not for the first time. Although the first time I'd been six, and very naughty, and it had been my parents who removed me.
I was hustled across Paternoster Square and thrown into the back of a white van, which then drove off. Two of the brothers very considerately kept me covered with their guns in case I tried to escape.
I felt more for Scruff. She can't drive, and she wasn't even properly dressed, but she was in my car, parked by Stationers' Hall. Poor Scruff! I should have been more careful. And now, if the police saw the car, she'd be arrested. Ken Livingstone wants me on several charges relating to traffic offences, none of which I like the sound of.
The van slowed and stopped. I heard a door open and someone got out. By my calculations we were still in the City of London somewhere. But where? I didn't know which way we had driven off.
Seconds later the back door of the van was thrown open. The Prior stood there, cowl thrown back, his face livid.
"What the bloody hell did you do?" he demanded.
"I..."
"That cashpoint just told me there are 'insufficient cleared funds' in my account. There were twenty thousand pounds in that account yesterday, now I'm five thousand in the red!"
"But... I didn't do it!" I protested.
I didn't, but I could guess who had. Apparently Scruff had tracked down the Prior's real identity and emptied his bank account. Probably into hers, knowing Scruff.
I was pulled from the back of the van and onto the pavement. There I was held by one of the brothers as the Prior prepared to hurt me.
Well, they held my arms, but they forgot about my legs. Why I'm not sure, as they're quite attractive legs. Lucky for me they did.
The man who held me suddenly found himself holding my full weight, as I kicked the Prior in the teeth. I felt the grip on my arms relax as me feet met the ground again, and I tore myself free.
The brothers were taken entirely by surprise, and none of them were any good at fighting. I left them lying dazed on the pavement as the sound of a police car broke the quiet of a night in the City. Someone's CCTV camera had picked us up.
"So long!" I cried as I ran from the scene.

Good old Scruff! She came through!

Roses are Blue, 10.

In the narrow alley that leads from Stationer's Hall I pulled a line and grappling-hook from my belt and threw it. The grappling-hook caught and held. Knowing that my weight was unlikely to pull anything off anything else (I feel so slim when I write that), I swiftly scaled the side of the building.
Standing on the roof, I hurried towards Paternoster Square.
If you're my age, you can dimly remember when Paternoster Square was a collection of ugly tower-blocks and concrete monoliths. It isn't any more! Now Temple Bar, transferred from Theobalds like it was transferred there from the Strand, makes a pretty gateway into a beautiful square full of light. Oh, and with the obligatory Starbucks.

In the daytime, Paternoster Square can be quite busy. At the dead of night it's silent. I stood on the rooftop, looking down at the square. There, in front of me, was the Stock Exchange building. The enemy's target.

I saw people moving into the colonnade beneath the building, and I ran across the rooftops, sure-footed as a real cat, headed for the Stock Exchange.
Call me old fashioned, but I preferred the old one. Not the ugly block in Threadneedle Street, the old neoclassical one by the Bank of England.
Throwing my line again, I jumped from the roof I was standing on and swung on the end of my line onto the roof of the Stock Exchange. The League of the Blue Rose would already have disabled the building's burglar alarms, I told myself. Still, there was one thing they hadn't counted on - Scruff. She would be busily tapping away (or whatever you do) on her little laptop in the car, trying to interfere with their plan. Me, I prefer to interfere more directly. With a boot and a whip.
My little diamond-tipped tool got me into the building in seconds. I moved among silent offices, headed for the building's central atrium.
Reaching it, I saw lights below. In my usual gung-ho fashion, I threw my life upwards and jumped.
I sent blue-robed figures sprawling over the floor. Drawing my whip from my belt, I faced them.
"You!" one of them cried. "But.. you're dead!"
I proved him wrong by kicking him in the stomach.
"Brother Peter..." another snarled. I laughed.
"He's probably still taking it easy on the church floor."
I wielded my whip deftly, tearing a gun from a man's hand. In the wide open space my movement was unhindered, I could move like a tornado.
"Stop!"
The voice was the Prior's. Looking up, I saw him standing on a landing. He was flanked by two men with very large guns. I laughed.
"Sorry, you can't afford to shoot this place up."
"You're right." The Prior pulled his own gun. I carried on fighting.
Then a little red spot appeared on the front of my costume. A laser sight. I stopped and dropped my whip.
"Sensible girl. Take her!"

I hoped Scruff was going to come through.

Roses are Blue, 9.

Brother Peter pushed me out of the tower stump where the other members of the League of the Blue Rose were. He was under orders to drown me in the canal, and since I was bound and gagged, there wasn't a lot I could do to stop him. Moving as fast as the ropes around my ankles would allow, I moved towards the exit.
Suddenly, and to my great surprise, Brother Peter giggled. He hadn't seemed the giggling type. I tried to say something, but the gag got in the way.
The robed figure bent down and untied my ankles.
"Hi."
I knew that voice! It was Scruff! I turned to face her, and she adjusted the cowl to reveal her face. She was also wearing a mask, but she was definitely Scruff.

"Come on!"
She grabbed my arm and we ran to my car. There Scruff removed my gag and untied my hands.
"After they got you one of them stayed in the church. He was a very short man, so I jumped him, overpowered him, and stole his robes. It's a good thing he was Brother Peter, the man they wanted to kill you."
"I'm not arguing," I jumped in the car while Scruff removed her borrowed robes. "You really had me worried there!"
"Just an act," she slid into the passenger seat, now wearing just my spare costume. "Are we going home?"
"No, we're going to the Stock Exchange. We have to stop them. Do you mind?"
"Sis!" Scruff laughed, "When have I ever cared about how I look?"
"Okay, Scruff," I laughed. "Off we go!"
I started the powerful grey car and we sped off, towards the city centre.
London fashed past. Ken Livingstone, our mayor, is most unhappy about my operating a car like mine within the congestion charging zone. He's also mad that it doesn't have numberplates, but I don't really care what he thinks. After all, I need my grey car for things like beating evil robed baddies to the London Stock Exchange before they were able to set up their high-tech equipment.
"Scruff, you know a lot about computers," I said as we drove. "Can they do what the Prior said they'd do?"
"Definitely."
"Can you stop them?"
"Well, I need a laptop and a secure internet connection," she mused. I laughed.
"Open the glove-compartment."
She did. Scruff gasped as the grey car's computer started up.
"State of the art. It was fitted up by a man whose life I saved, but I'm not really sure how to use it. You, however, spent all those years in the IT room at that expensive school. Will it do?"
"Will it do?" Scruff laughed. "Well, of course!"
"Great. I need you to intercept that signal."
I drove on, as Scruff began to prepare the computer. The city flashed past us.
At last I saw St. Paul's, lit up and now partly out of its scaffolding wrapping.

"Okay, Scruff," I said as I turned off, "I'll leave the car parked by Stationer's Hall, can you operate from there?"
"No problem."
I parked the car, opened the roof, and jumped out.
Between us, I hoped, Scruff and I would defeat the baddies.
I just wished I had a better idea of how we'd do it.

Roses are Blue, 8.

The robed 'brothers' removed my belt, and I was manhandled into the tower stump. There I was forced to kneel in the middle of a circled of robed and hooded men.
"You are an interfering snooper!"
the Prior accused me. I smiled.
"I've been called worse. You're a bunch of murdering cut-throats. Why did you kill Petersfield?"
"He was going to betray us. For centuries the League of the Blue Rose has been working towards this goal. We will not be stopped now by some cowardly banker!"
Centuries. The League sounded pretty old. But why, then, had neither I nor the Green Man ever heard of it? My keen mind reasoned that something was going on. But what?
"Well, I'm not a cowardly banker. And I'd be careful how you say that, you could give people the wrong impression about you."
"Pah!" the Prior replied. "Soon we shall be the masters of the world's financial markets. We shall control the stock markets! And you, little girl, will be dead. Brother Peter, you will take her out to the canal and drown her. Tie her hands and feet and tie that piece of scrap metal to her feet."
There was a pause, during which I hoped Brother Peter would not be there. Then one of the robed figures, a small man, spoke,
"Okay," Brother Peter said softly, nodding.
"And then, brothers, we shall go to the stock exchange. All is prepared! We shall be victorious!"
I still knew very little of their plan.
"What are you going to do?" I asked, hoping that the prior was in a talkative mood.
"Since you will shortly be food for fishes, my dear Grey Girl, I see no reason not to tell you. Using the latest technology we shall take control of the computers of the London Stock Exchange in Paternoster Square. Every transaction will be in our hands. In seconds we shall make billions of pounds. We shall be the arbiters of Britain's financial destiny! And you will be drowned."
"That's hardly fair!" I protested.
"No, it isn't fair. Brother Peter, take her out and drown her. Your costume's very fitting, Girl in Grey - this time curiosity will very definitely kill the cat!"
"Come on!" Brother Peter growled as he pulled me to my feet and hustled me out of the tower stump. "You don't want to be late for supper with the fishes!"
My arms were tied behind my back, and I wondered how in the world I was going to get out of this one.
"I don't like fishes!" I cried.
"Yeah? Well, they'll like you, I bet."
Things did NOT look good.

Roses are Blue, 7.

As Scruff dived under a pew and wriggled along so that she would not be too visible, I ran down the north aisle of the church. Of course I worried about Scruff, even though after all the years she'd spent at boarding school she could be very resourceful. But she's my little sister, and I suppose it's just natural for me to worry about her.
What's worse, I'm about the only person who IS worried about her these days. We kind of lost touch with the rest of our family after Dad remarried. Dad was an only child, and his parents died when Scruff and I were quite small. Mum was American, and her family over there disapproved enormously of the Peroxide Peril. I don't blame them, but I wish I had more family who spoke to me.
As blue-robed figures fanned out through the church, I took a flying leap towards the roof. My grey-gloved hands caught a rafter, and I swung myself up, into the roof structure of the aisle.
I had been surprised at how dust-free the lower part of the church was. Now I knew where all the dust was, and I didn't like it. I tried not to breathe it in, since I knew that would result in a gigantic sneeze that would tell everyone where I was, and probably get me shot into the bargain. I don't like being shot, it tends to spoil a girl's day.
Looking down, I saw the members of the League of the Blue Rose moving down the church. To my relief and disgust, there were not looking under the pews. Relief because Scruff had hidden under one, disgust because I had made all this effort getting up into dust central away from them. I should have gone under a pew.
As the men moved beneath me, I held my breath. I didn't want to do anything to alert them to my presence.
I dropped back to the floor once they were past, my soft shoes making no noise at all. Moving from pew to pew like a shadow, I headed towards the east end.
There was the Prior. He watched the men leave the sanctuary and move into the halls beside the building. I watched him.
Suddenly someone grabbed me from behind. I turned - it was one of the 'brothers'.

"I have her!" he cried. I struggled, but then someone pointed a gun at me.
"Ah," the Prior said, satisfaction in his voice as he moved towards me, "we have you now."
And he was right. They had me!

Roses are Blue, 6.

Scruff and I stepped into the now disused church. It was a huge space, impressively built and clearly designed for all the glories of the old Catholic Apostolic liturgy. Right now it was empty, and the lamps that hung in the sanctuary were dark. They had not burned for a long time. It was an evocative space - but Scruff and I weren't there as sightseers.
Scruff looked funny in my spare costume. The suit fitted her snugly, but the fact that she wasn't wearing the boots or gloves made her look... well, untidy. But that's part of what I like about her, it makes her sort of appealing.
We tip-toed through the darkness of one of the aisles, watching out for any other intruders. This was definitely the church in Little Venice, it had to be.
"But then there were halls and vestries as well as the sanctuary. We were about to turn around when a door towards the East end opened and a robed figure stepped out.
His robe was blue, a dark blue in a beautiful fabric. And on the front of the robe there was embroidered an electric-blue rose. I had been right! What was more, this was being used as a base by the mysterious League of the Blue Rose.
"Father, the girl got away with the papers," I heard the older man from the flat speak. He followed the robed gentleman from the vestry or whatever it was.
"That is most unfortunate, brother Roland. If she has those papers she will know enough to be able to guess at our next move. And that means you must get them back and kill her."
"Father, she is the Girl in Grey. No-one knows where she lives or who she is."
"And the other girl?"
"An untidy teenager, no-one important."
"Brother Roland, I decide who is and who is not important. That is why I am the Prior and you are not. That teenager is obviously an agent of the Girl in Grey. Both of them must die."
"Finding them will be difficult, Father."
I smiled. If only they knew how close we were to them.
"Father!"
Clarence barged in, obviously flustered.
"Brother Clarence! What happened?"
"I pushed the teenager off the balcony. I don't know about the Girl in Grey."
Scruff, who had sat herself down, stretched and yawned. She spends far too much time in the evenings online.

"She's here!" Roland cried.
"Brother?"
"Brother Clarence shouted 'Little Venice Church' as I ran away. What person who knows London wouldn't recognise here!"
"Search the building!" the Prior cried, "She must be found!"
"Scruff," I said urgently, "hide. They think you're dead. I'll go somewhere else."
"But..."
"You're a bright girl. You'll think of something."
And with those words, I ran.

Roses are Blue, 5.

I jumped to my feet and ran to the edge of the balcony, knowing that I would be too late to save my sister. But as I reached the edge of the balcony I heard, not a sickening thud, but a loud splash.
Looking down below I saw a swimming pool, and I sighed with relief. Scruff surfaced, spluttering. I laughed.
"Hang on!" I called. Stuffing the papers I had taken from the members of the League of the Blue Rose, I hurried down to the poolside.

When I got there Scruff was out of the water, dripping on the paving slabs and shivering. She was sopping wet - but alive.
"Scruff! I thought you were going to die!"
"So did I. I didn't know about the pool," her teeth were chattering.
"Come on," I took her hand. She followed me to the car. I opened the boot and took a towel out.
"You can try to dry yourself with this," I said. "Then we'll go home."
"No! We have to follow them! You heard what he said, 'Little Venice church. That's where they're going!"
"Okay," I laughed. "There's a spare one of my costumes in the boot."
We drove to a secluded spot where Scruff could get changed without the possibility of anyone seeing. She looked kind of odd in a Girl in Grey outfit - she's not really the right shape for it, and she could not get into the gloves and boots. The close-fitting cowl was designed for my bobbed hair, not her waist-length black curls, so she left the cowl down, mostly hidden by her long hair.
Thus almost dressed, Scruff jumped back into the car and I drove off towards Little Venice.
Little Venice is the part of London that surrounds the canal basins of Paddington. The banks of the canals are lined with solid, respectable type villas, while narrowboats ply the canals themselves. It's kind of nice really, and Scruff and I ought to go there more often. We once both got soaked to the skin there in a thunderstorm. We might as well have jumped in the canal!
There was only one church that the League of the Blue Rose could have meant, THE Little Venice church. A marellous Victorian gothic structure of red brick and white stone, with a stump of a tower to one side, it was the Catholic Apostolic Church. It faces the canal, and has been disused for years.

We parked around the corner, despite the fact that Scruff had no shoes on. I wish she wouldn't go out without them, but Scruff is... well, she's Scruff.
Although there were lights on in the clergy house to one side of the great gothic facade, we were able to get over the gate and into the porch beside the tower stump without difficulty. The tools in my belt had the door open in seconds, and we stepped inside.
I had expected dust and decay. Instead the building was beautifully clean. Scruff entered after me, her bare feet silent on the tiled floor.
"Where to?" she whispered as I closed the door.
"Follow me."
We tip-toed into the church, not knowing what we would find.

Roses are Blue, 4.

I stood in the darkened room, very conscious that someone was holding a gun to my back. That sort of thing tends to make a girl think very clearly if she isn't the panicking sort. And I'm not the panicking sort.
"Why are you here?" the man behind me demanded.
"Because the owner of this flat was murdered earlier this evening. Someone left a blue rose on his body, exactly like thwo other murders in other parts of Europe. I wanted to know why he was killed, and I thought I might find the answer here."
"Instead of which, you are going to die here, and your body will be found on Hampstead Heath."
"Someone might hear the shot."
"All the flats in this wing of the building are empty, my dear. And no-one will hear a silenced gun."
"So why did you kill him?"
"Because he was a traitor," the man in front of me answered. I saw now that he was wearing a tiny blue rose badge in his lapel. "Petersfield became scared and threated to sell us out. He failed. The League of the Blue Rose cannot be stopped!"
"Indeed, Clarence," the man who had a gun pressed to my spine added. "We CANNOT be stopped. The whole world, my dear, will fall under our influence, and there is not a thing you can do to stop us."
Right now, I reflected, that was probably true. After all, having the muzzle of a pistol pressed to your spine is rather limiting. One move, and he'd shoot me. If I wasn't killed outright I'd be badly wounded.
"So you're going to rule the world?"
"It is our destiny!"
Suddenly the door of the flat flew open. I heard a scream, piercing and wonderfully familiar.
I felt the gun move, and I moved too. I tore the pistol from the man's hand and socked him in the face with a powerful punch.
"Thanks," I said to Scruff, who was standing in the doorway. "How did you follow me?"
"In the boot of your car. I figured you might need me." She looked fine, incredibly untidy, barefoot, and holding a revolver.
I turned to Clarence.
"The League of the Blue Rose, huh? And you want to rule the world. You're not the first to try, and you won't be the last to fail. So cheer up. After all, I am kind of cute, and Scruff's really rather nice too. So you're being held up by two pretty girls."
"We'll tell you nothing!" Clarence said. He seemed a nice young man really, not terribly bright, though.
Just the sort who accidentally give something away.
"Clarence," the older man, who was nursing a split lip, warned, "say nothing."
"You're not giving the orders any more, I am." I took the papers from Clarence. We stepped out onto the balcony. In the darkness my grey suit rendered me all but invisible.
"You will not defeat us!" the older man warned.
"I already have, haven't I?"
"Never!"
The older man threw himself at me. Taken by surprise, my smaller form was knocked onto the tiles of the balcony.
"Run!" Clarence cried, struggling with Scruff to keep her gun off the older man. "Little Venice church!"
The older man bolted. Scruff struggled with Clarence, but he was larger and stronger than her, and at last he knocked her backwards.
Scruff stumbled. I cried out as I saw her hit the low wall of the balcony.
Too late. Clarence pushed her, and she tumbled backwards, into space, with a scream.

Roses are blue, 4.

[I'm back. The Indian Embassy finally agreed to let Scruff into the country.]
Dressed in my grey costume, I sat in my streamlined, high-powered grey car, headed for what had been Carl Petersfield's address. It had been a nice day for the four of us, and I wished the Green Man hadn't had to go. Scruff really missed Ms. Madison too, but Scruff doesn't say things like that. They annoy each other too.
Suckling Mansions was a huge 1930s building, the sort that has a huge garage and uniformed doormen in top hats, where you feel the staff are doing you a huge favour just letting you in.
Well, they weren't letting me in. I was getting in up the fire escape at the back. All that climbing means my suit has to be pretty hard-wearing. Fire escapes tend to be rough metal.
I reached the back window of Carl Petersfield's flat and had it open in seconds. I slipped inside and looked around myself. Even in the dark the place dripped luxury. The home of an unmarried millionaire. Dad's place was never this tidy - he had two daughters around the place, and one of them was Scruff. The other one liked to leave books all over the place. We were wonderfully untidy, but Dad loved us, and we loved him. This place was different, everything had a place, and everything was in its place.
All the better for me to search the place. I moved silently into the study.
Suddenly I heard a key turn in the lock. I ducked behind the desk and waited.
The door opened, and a torch flashed in the darkness. That told me at once who I had to deal with. The management and the police would have turned the lights on. Someone else had come here looking for something. But that person had a key. It could only mean one thing - whoever this was was connected with Petersfield's murder!
The person moved across the carpet and knelt down in front of a small safe. I watched as the person inserted a key into the lock of the safe and opened it. The intruder began to search through the safe. He pulled out some papers and a small box, then turned to the door.
I sprang from behind the desk and landed in the doorway, whip held ready.
"Well! You shouldn't be in here!" I said.
The man stared at me in surprise.
"Who...?"
"For obvious reasons, they call me the Girl in Grey."
"You have no idea who you are dealing with!"
Someone stuck a gun in my back and I slowly raised my hands.
I had assumed there was only one of them, and now I realised how wrong I had been.

Roses are Blue, 3.

[Still me, I'm afraid. Sis is arguing with the Indian embassy]
The Green Man looked approvingly at my computer screen, then back at me.
"Well, Scruff, you may not be as well-dressed as Ms. Madison, but you're just as handy."
"Thanks," I smiled back. "You're very nice. No wonder Sis likes you."
"Three murders, three blue roses. Grey!"
Sis hurried in. Of course she wasn't dressed in her grey costume, but in a blouse and skirt.
"What is it? Soot hasn't been fed yet, and if he isn't he'll be difficult."
"Scruff's found two other identical murders, both of investment bankers."
"Oh! Are you going to look into it?" she asked.
"No, I'm afraid I have to deal with a drug-running operation in Nassau. Can you take this job?"
"I'd love to," Sis said with a smile. I noticed Ms. Madison scowl slightly.
There was a loud meow from the kitchen, and Sis laughed.
"Come on, Green Man, I need a hand with Soot."
I was left with Ms. Madison.
"Lynette, you're not so keen on my sister, are you?" I asked.
"I'm just not sure her getting... romantically involved with the Green Man is a good idea, Scruff. Your sister's a bright, attractive, resourceful girl. I like her as a person. But... I think she might be setting herself up for disappointment."
"Don't try to reason with her."
"And what is it about your arm? I've never seen it without a bandage."
"It's an allergy."
"Just there?"
"Or something." I resorted to being evasive.
"Ms. Madison! These two young ladies need to do some crime fighting. Come on!"
I noticed some of Sis's lipstick on his mouth and smiled.
"'Bye," I said cheerily.
"Goodbye, Scruff."
"'Bye!" Sis called. Her lipstick was smeared and there was a rather dreamy look in her eyes.
When the Green Man and Ms. Madison were gone I allowed myself a laugh.
"Sis! You do look funny! But Lynette tells me he's not your boyfriend."
"Lynette's in denial. Like you with that arm of yours."
"Sis! I'm not going to tell everyone the real reason!"
"Then let's get to work. Where did Carl Petersfirld live?"
"104 Suckling Mansions."
"Great. I'll ru over there and break in. You hold the fort here and look after the cats."
She dashed off. I sat back on the sofa and picked up Shah, one of Sis's cats.
"Hi, Shah, how's tricks?"

And Sis, I knew, was going into the jaws of death.

Roses are Blue, 2.

[Scruff here again. Sis is away right now, trying to get us visas to India. You you've got me]

The four of us, me, Sis, the Green Man and Ms. Madison were standing in the street, looking at the dead man. Typical, I thought, a quiet evening out, and we managed to find a cafe that was about to have a murder committed outside. Give me the local chippie any day. No-one ever got murdered there.
"There's nothing we can do," the Green Man said. "Just find out who he was."
I acted at once. I don't like being overlooked, but looking like I do, it happens a lot. So I hurried up to the body and kneeled down next to it. I checked his pulse. There wasn't one. Still, I have a first aid certificate - it was an optional course at school and I'd been feeling bored when it was on.
While checking for signs of life I spotted a tailor's tab inside the man's obviously hand-made suit. Carl Petersfield.
"He's dead," I announced.
"You're not a nurse or a doctor!" someone in the crowd responded.
"She's a trained first aider," Sis replied. Good old Sis, always sticking up for me. I hurried back to her side. Sis shook her head, a smile on her face.
"Scruff, you left your shoes under the table."
"Well, I didn't have time to put them on! He's dead, but his name was Carl Petersfield."
Sis laughed.
"You checked the tailor's tab in his suit! Scruff, you're brilliant. Does anyone feel like finishing the meal?"
"We paid for it," Ms. Madison pointed out.
"Then we finish it off."
"And then back to my place," Sis said. "It's closest."
We finished our dinner and then the four of us walked back to Sis's flat. There we were greeted by eight of the cats.
"I'll give them their biscuits," Sis said. "Scruff, get that computer working. Unless the Green Man knows anything about Carl Petersfield and blue roses."
"I'm afraid I don't, Grey Girlie."
"Then it's up to Scruff and her internet skills."
I pulled off my sweater, which I had been wearing over my t-shirt and sat down at the computer.
"Scruff," Ms. Madison said, "why is your right arm still bandaged?"
"Accident. Which is NOT what killed Carl Petersfield."
"You're being evasive."
"Ms. Madison," Sis warned, "you're not her sister."
I quickly typed in Petersfield's name.
He was a rich man, head of the London and Eastern Investment Bank and a collector of rare books.
Then I typed in 'blue rose murder'.
There were two newspaper stories, one from Sweden and one from Poland. Two investment bankers shot dead in the street and a blue rose dumped on the body.
There was a pattern!"

Roses are Blue, 1.

[Scruff here. Sis let me write the introduction to this story]
Sis and the Green Man had a date. So while they were sitting together at a table, whispering sweet nothings to each other, I was sitting with Ms. Madison. Unfortunately we don't have so much in common as I'd like, but we have enough in common to get on.
"... Scruff, you really ought to learn how to dress properly," she was saying to me. "Those clothes just make you look... dreadful. Like you get all your things second-hand from a charity shop."
"I do," I replied. "Look, my stepmother stole my inheritance. Anyhow, I don't care how I look."
"Which is why you didn't brush your hair this morning. Scruff, you're a mess."
"And I don't care. Ask Sis. She'll tell you I keep my clothes in a pile on my bedroom floor."

"Scruff! What are we going to do with you?"
"That's for Sis. Unless she and your boss get married."
"Oooh! Now you're needling me!"
"I know. I went to a girls' broarding-school, remember?"
"I forgot. You don't look the type."
"I didn't feel the type either. Sis went to the same school, but she did A-levels and went to university. How's Emily doing?"
"Still black and smoky. She frightened the milkman yesterday."
"So why does she have to stay at your place?"
"The Green Man has guests. She was only trying to help me."
"But she forgot she looks scary. Hey, this is a nice cafe."
"Your sister's choice. Do you come here often?"
"A salad bar? I prefer fish and chips. So do the cats."
"The fifteen cats. How do you cope?"
"They let us live in the place with them. It was Midnight's birthday yesterday, so we had a cake."
Yes, it was another evening in London. The Green Man and Sis on a date, Ms. Madison and me playfully needling one another. We weren't looking for crime, but rime turned up anyhow.
There was the sound of gunfire outside. Sis and the Green Man jumped up and ran outside. Ms. Madison followed them and I, not really wanting to be left on my own, ran after her.
A small crowd had gathered in the street outside. There was a man in grey suit lying on the pavement, and he was very obviously dead.
And lying on top of his body was a single blue rose.

The Outsider Test, – Conclusion.

The adventure over, the four of us, myself, Scruff, the Outsider and Ms. Madison, were in my flat, having turfed the cats off the various places where we wanted to sit (or, in some cases, lie). I was in my big leather armchair (which looks even bigger when I'm in it), Scuff was on the hearth-rug, Ms. Madison was in a smaller arm-chair, and the Outsider was lying on a small sofa, still very much black and smoky, with glowing red eyes.

"So, what are you going to do now?" I asked as I sipped my tea. The Outsider shook her head.
"I suppose I'm stuck like this. I could go on fighting crime..."
"Lynette," Scruff said, "doesn't your boss know about things like this?"
"Things like what Scruff?"
"Like strange Indian cults, for one thing. And occult stuff. I know there's a lot on the internet, but most of it's rubbish."
"Only most?" Ms. Madison joked. "Seriously, I'll ask him. In the mean time, I'm sure he'll be able to look after a small black, smoky girl with glowing red eyes. If you don't mind my asking, how old are you?"
"Thirteen."
"Young enough. And dietary requirements?"
"Food."
"I'd guessed that already, Outsider! What else are you going to need?"
"A bed. And a bath. In fact I'm going to take one now." she jumped up and ran off to the bathroom, from where I heard the sound of running water.

"She's sweet," Scruff said. "Which is kind of funny for a girl who chops heads off."
"Scruff!" Ms. Madison objected. "Well, do you want me to wait until the Outsider's had her bath?"
"If you're going to take her anywhere tonight. Otherwise I'll put her up in the spare room here," I answered. "Ms. Madison, I know we don't see eye-to-eye on everything, but I want to get Emily back the way she used to be. So PLEASE talk to the Green Man about her."
"Don't worry, I will," Ms. Madison ruffled my golden bob. "And I like you really."
"But she doesn't think you're the Green Man's girlfriend," Scruff added. Ms. Madison and I laughed. Scruff laughed too.
I hoped we would be able to find some way to restore Emily. She was right, being black and smoky with glowing red eyes does rather shut a girl out of society. And she ought to know.

But until she was restored, she would remain that mysterious avenger of evil, THE OUTSIDER.


Next time: The Girl in Grey battles against the mysterious League of the Blue Rose!

The Outsider Test, 14. By the Sword

The Outsider and Ramdit Ghul crossed swords. But I knew from the beginning that this was going to be no ordinary sword fight. Suddenly Ghul crouched, and an invisible force threw the Outsider clean through the shop window. Mr. Ghul followed, leaping through the shattered shop-front, into the street.
The Outsider’s blade met his. Scruff, Miss Madison and I ran to the window to encourage the Outsider.
"Come on, Outsider!" Scruff cheered, "You can do it! Take his head off!"
"Scruff!" Ms. Madison exclaimed, "you bloodthirsty girl!"
"But that's what she does, she beheads bad guys."
"That's no excuse!"
In the street the strange sword-fight continued, the tall, dangerous Indian prince and the small, smoky being called the Outsider. Both were good, and neither was above using other tactics. Ghul tried to squash the Outsider with a car, but she tossed it aside.
"You can't win, Emily! I made you what you are, I trained you, I am better than you!"
"Arrogant so-and-so," Ms. Madison said, offended.
"I suppose it's absolute power," Scruff mused. "Go on, Outsider!"
Ghul lunged at the Outsider, but she turned his blade aside and lunged back, cutting his arm. The evil prince cried out in pain.
"You wretched English girl! I'll enjoy killing you!"
"You won't get the chance!"
The Outsider whirled aside like a flurry of black smoke, her red eyes blazing.
"That's it!" Scruff yelled. Ms. Madison shook her head.
"Don't blame me," I told her. "I'm her sister, not her mother. And she went to boarding school."
Scruff let out a piercing whistle as the Outsider slashed Ghul again.
"Yeah! Second blood to the Outsider!"
"Boarding school," Ms. Madison agreed.
Ghul fought like a tiger, but the Outsider fought like a FEMALE tiger, which is a whole lot fiercer. Ghul was driven back despite his ferocity.
"I'll give you my power!" he cried. The Outsider laughed out loud at that.
"Too late, Ghul! I'll give you what you gave my parents!"
The black, smoky sword slashed out, and then Ghul's head, still wearing a surprised expression, was lying on the pavement while his body slid to the ground.
"Paid in full," the Outsider said as she wiped her sword on the fallen body.
"Did you bring a car?" I asked Ms. Madison. "Because I don't fancy taking her home on the tube."
"I'll get it," she replied.

The Outsider Test, 13. Freedom!

The Outsider and I were locked in a cell in the cellar of a shop in Whitechapel. But not for long.
The lock yielded easily to my lock pick, and the guard outside was taken completely by surprise. My kick knocked him out at once.
My cowl and gloves lay with the Outsider’s weapons on a small table. As she armed herself I put on the rest of my costume.
“The cell’s lined with a material that inhibits my powers,” the Outsider explained. “But since it inhibits Ghul’s powers too, it isn’t used anywhere else.”
We ran for the cellar stairs. The Outsider knocked the only guard there flying - great work for a girl who’s smaller than me.
The door at the top was locked, but that did not seem to stop the Outsider. She simply smahed it to matchwood.
The guard at the top of the stairs drew his sword, but the Outsider had hers ready too. Their swords clashed, and I watched the battle, unable to interfere.
The guard was good, but the Outsider was better. She fought like an expert, and although the blade looked as smoky and semi-incorporeal as she did, from the sound it made on the guard’s sword it was obviously genuine steel.
Suddenly she slipped under the guard’s sword and hit him in the stomach. He doubed up in pain, and she wiped her dagger on his coat.
“Outsider!” I objected. “You can’t go around killing people!”
“Why not? Now follow me!”
I followed the Outsider down the hall towards the shop. I heard a scream from the shop, and I recognised it. It was Scruff!
“Outsider! My sister’s in there!”
The Outsider burst through the door into the shop and faced Ramdit Ghul, her red eyes glowing with an intensity I had not seen before.
Scruff and Ms. Madison were pinned to the wall, and obviously very scared. Ms. Madison stared in surprise at the Outsider.
“Ghul! I’m here!”
The force that held Scruff and Ms. Madison was released, and both slid gratefully to the floor.
“Scruff!” I leaped across the shop to help her. She smiled.
“Sis! What happened?”
“I escaped. What about you two?’
“We were coming to rescue you.”
“Who’s that?” Ms. Madison asked, looking at the Outsider.
“That’s the Outsider. She’s... connected with Mr. Ghul.”
“Emily,” Ramdit Ghul smiled at the Outsider. “What do you want?”
“Freedom from you. You said you saved my life, but I’ve begun to doubt that. I think you had my parents killed. Why?”
“I needed you, Emily. You were the perfect subject for the process that made you what you are. My forefathers searched for centuries for the right girl, and there you were. But of course your missionary parents would not think of giving you to a pagan prince such as myself, so I had to resort to less... legal means. And you were a good subject. You took to the training well, I was able to change your form so that you no longer look like Emily Fairbairn. And now you are mine.”
“Not any more.” I saw the sword in her hand. Suddenly Ramdit Ghul drew a sword from under his cloak.
“And so one of us will die, Emily!”
“Yes,” she agreed, putting up her weapon.
They were about to fight to the death!

The Outsider Test, 12. The Outsider's Tale

(I'm back)
I came to slowly. Someone was shaking me.
"Oh, you shouldn't have!" she sobbed. "You shouldn't have!"
I groaned and opened my eyes. I looked up into the Outsider's swirling, semi-transparent face. She was kneeling on the floor beside me, apparently concerned about me, although it was impossible to see any emotion in her featureless face.
"Hi. Are we prisoners?"
"Yes. You shouldn't have..."
"I saw you in trouble... Oh! My mask!"
I had been unmasked, and my gloves had been removed. Other than that I was still wearing my outfit from the fancy-dress party. I had been dumped on the floor, although there was a bed in the cell.
From the dampness of the cell I deduced that we were in a cellar not far from the River. Just me and the Outsider, cellmates.
"How are you?" she asked. The concern in her voice did not show in those glowing red eyes of hers.
"My head hurts. How about you?'
Oh, me," she stood up and drew her black cloak around herself before sitting down again. "I'm still black and smoky, with glowing red eyes. You don't know what's going on, do you?"
"All I saw was a gang of armed men trying to kidnap you. I don't like kidnapping."
"Even when I'm the victim?"
"I don't really care who the victim is, Outsider. But I am kind of surprised they could catch you."
"They know me better than you do. Better than anyone living does. We're in the cellar of an old shop in Whitechapel, a shop that belongs to a man called Mr. Ramdit Ghul."
"We're back in Whitechapel? I probably know this street."
"You probably do, Grey Girl. But we're locked in. And Mr. Ghul intends to take me back to India."
"To India?" I was surprised. She didn't sound Indian.
"Yes. Look, my name is Emily Fairbairn. I was born in Oxford, and my parents became missionaries to India. As soon as I was old enough I joined them out there, working in a remote area. But four years ago we were attacked by local fanatics. My parents were killed, and I was brought to the palace of Ramdit Ghul, a local prince and a reputed holy man. I hoped Ghul would let me go, but he didn't. He told me that I would be in terrible danger if I ever left the palace without his guards, and I believed him. You do when you're small. He treated me like his own daughter, and I thought he was being generous to an orphan. I was wrong.
"Ghul trained me in mystic, arcane rituals that he and his family had guarded for centuries. Using his occult powers he transformed me from an ordinary kid into the Outsider, the strange creature you see now. I learned how to render myself invisible, and Ghul used his powers to make my body... Like this," I heard her sob. At once I caught the Outsider in my arms.
"Outsider!"
"I... was such a pretty little girl! And now I look like this! I'm all alone!"
"You're not. I'm here too. So why are you here?"
"Ghul... Ghul decided to test me. He took me to England disguised as a Muslim girl, covered from head to toe in black. Apparently someone from his organisation had robbed him and fled to England, thinking that Ghul's magic could not pursue him. Ghul told me that I was to be an assassin for his sect, destroying their enemies. He armed me with a sword, a crossbow and daggers. He said a gun would be too noisy. Ghul ordered me to destroy a blackmailer, and I did what he told me. He said he'd change me back into... me again. But when I got back he told me that it was impossible, and I'd have to spend the rest of my life like this. So I ran away. I tried to continue a campaign against blackmailers, but Ghul's men found me and brought me here."
Ghul sounded distinctly evil, I thought. That meant we had to escape and defeat him.
But how? If he really did have occult powers - and the Outsider was proof of that - he could be almost invincible.
Except that the Outsider had occult powers too.
I took a small device from inside the costume's tail and began to work on the lock.