62 Mr White

62 Mr White Sir?' said Alan, looking nervously at the screen. 'Is everything OK?' 'You call that an interrogation?' said the person on screen in an angry, surprisingly high voice. 'I-I-I've only just started.' 'Useless! If you want a job done properly, you've got to do it yourself!' 'You're Mr White,' said Peanut. 'Indeed,' said the silhouette, turning slightly to face her. And you are Pernilla Anne Jones.' 'Peanut!' she said, automatically. 'How do you know my name? And what have you done with my friends?' 'Your friends? Oh yes, the tall boy with the hair, the

annoying little girl and the scruffy mutt. They are currently enjoying my hospitality, just like you.' He laughed. 'Would you like to see them?' Peanut nodded. The screen cut to a shot of Rockwell in a cell just like the one Peanut was in. He was sitting on a chair with his head in his hands, rocking slowly back and forth. Five seconds later, it cut to another cell, but this time Peanut could see Doodle standing on his hind legs, his paws on the door, barking loudly. The final shot really upset Peanut. Her little sister was curled up on the cold concrete bench in her cell, quietly singing to herself. She could just about make out the words 'Twinkle, twinkle, little star... How I wonder what you are...' A tear ran down Peanut's cheek. And Mr Markmaker?' 'He has been moved to an even more comfortable location.' The screen cut to a shot of Mr M in a cell that was half the size of the others. He was sitting perfectly still on the chair, staring straight at the huge type printed on the wall. Poor man, thought Peanut. Maybe this was the final straw for him. 'What are you going to do with us, you monster?' Peanut wiped the tears from her eyes but could not hide the anger in her voice. 'That depends on whether you cooperate,' sneered Mr White.

'What do you want?' 'I want to know how you got from London to Chroma. It must have either been through a portal, in which case I want to know exactly where that portal is, or... you used another method.' Peanut shook her head. 'Why do you care so much?' 'Well, young lady, we can't have just anybody waltzing in here with their illegal drawing apparatus, directly disobeying my laws, can we? Where would that leave us?' 'In a much happier place!' shouted Peanut. 'Maybe it would leave us all with a much happier world!' 'Why on earth do you think the world would be happier with more creativity in it? The sooner people realise that a planet devoid of art means a more ordered, controlled and calm existence, the better.' 'Existence!' said Peanut. 'You do know that there is a difference

between merely existing and actually living, don't you?' 'OK, you're boring me now, young lady. I'm going to ask again. How. Did. You. Get. Here? Did you have help?' He pulled the brim of his hat down even further over his eyes. 'From your father, for example.' Peanut felt the blood drain from her face. ' My father? What have you done to him? Where is he?' 'Oh bravo, Miss Jones. An Oscar-worthy performance. But enough with the pretending. Why don't you just tell me where he is right now, to avoid my having to use a more... painful method of extraction. ' Er, what do you mean?' Peanut was confused. 'You know full well where he is. He's here. In the Spire. In a cell somewhere. Don't toy with me, young lady!' snapped Mr White. ' Yes, he was imprisoned here, but he's not any more, as I think you know. He... disappeared a few days ago. Disappeared?' Peanut felt as if her legs were going to buckle. 'What do you mean, "disappeared"?' Mr White seemed thrown by this reaction. ' So, you really don't know where he is?' Peanut shook her head. Mr White then started laughing a terrible, high-pitched laugh. He sounded like a hyena who had sucked all the helium out of a balloon.

'Oh dear, oh dear.' Mr White dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief. 'Here was I, hoping that you would be able to tell me how he escaped, but it seems we're both in the dark as far as your father's whereabouts are concerned. Suddenly, Peanut's surprise and confusion turned to anger. She realised that she was right back where she'd started not knowing where her dad was. And it was all because of this man, who had put him in prison in the first place. She took a deep breath and began to gather her thoughts. 'So, if your father didn't help you,' sneered Mr White, 'how did you get here?' Peanut glared at him and didn't say a word. I see. It's the silent treatment, is it? OK. Have it your own way.' Mr White picked up a folder from the desk in front of him and held it up to the camera. 'It would be much easier if you just told us. It would save us a lot of paperwork. And paper doesn't grow on trees, you know!' Peanut's eyes widened. Something niggled in her memory, just out of reach. Alan!' barked Mr White. 'Make sure she's thoroughly searched before you leave her to think about what she's done. I don't trust this girl.' Searched? Peanut looked around the room. She took a deep breath. Could she escape if

she was quick? She had to take the risk. It was now or never. In a flash, she ripped the makeshift pocket from her dungarees and grabbed Little Tail. As soon as he saw it, Mr White gasped. 'Is that...? No! It can't be!' As quickly as she could, Peanut drew a rectangle on the wall next to her, but before she could sketch a door handle, Alan was upon her. He grabbed her wrist, pulling the pencil towards him. Peanut did her best to wrestle it back. 'CAREFUL!' bellowed Mr White from the TV screen. But it was too late. Alan suddenly let go of Peanut's arm, and the pencil flew out of her hand. They both watched as it soared through the air in slow motion towards the window and, to Peanut's horror, sailed between the bars and out into the night sky. ' Noooooooooo!' screamed Peanut. 'Noooooooooo!' screamed Mr White. Alan looked up at the TV screen in panic, sweat on his brow. Peanut was breathing hard.