Part 9 - The Barbecue

 "Got your allergy medication?" Benedict Cumberbatch asked James as we all poured out of the bus.

 "Yep," James replied, "No horse is going to stop me now!"

 "Don't stop me now... " Benedict sang, "Don't stop me -"

 "Cos I'm havin' a good time," James interjected, "Havin' a good time!"

 "I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky!" I added.

 "Like a tiger," Hanien continued.

 "Defying the laws of gravityyy," Annisa practically yodelled the last syllable.

 "I am a racing car," James began to wiggle his hips back and forth, "passing by!"

 "Like Lady Godiva!" Benedict shouted.

 "I'm gonna go, go, go," we all rumbled, "There's no stopping me!"

 We proceeded to hum to the end of the first chorus before filing into a long line against the wooden fenced elipse that ran down the centre of the flatter field. James and Benedict followed a couple of other adults into the office block at the beginning of the field. I could feel the wind cut my cheek with its chilling claw but I shrugged off the discomfort and smiled with every muscle in my face. Around me, I could see my happiness mirrored in all my friends' faces - Annisa, Hanien, Eliphia, Tom and Isaac - and I was almost certain we'd all burst from sheer joy.

 "It's going to be a great week." Eliphia had voiced what we were all thinking.

 "That it is," I agreed, "That it is."

 It's a good thing the site was so empty when we arrived because less than half an hour later, the field was cluttered with at least twenty tents that all bore our school emblem (a laptop that was a television on one side and a book made out of the other). The tents were roughly the same size and could hold eight people - two in each compartment. The idea was two teachers and six pupils in one tent. In my tent, the teachers were James and Michael Fassbender and the pupils were Annisa, Hanien, Eliphia, Isaac, Tom and I. In the tent next to us were Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Fletcher from McFly and some pupils from their classes.

 Divvying up rooms, we realised that Tom, James and I had had fairly similar experiences camping. We had similar habits of unpacking and I was interested to hear some of Tom's theories as to how to light a sleeping compartment to enable some reading before bed. Obviously - and regrettably - I couldn't share a sleeping compartment with James, so Tom and I took the one on the right closest to the front door if you were looking in from outside. To compensate for the out-of-balance girl to boy ratio, Annisa and Isaac volunteered to take the compartment beside Tom and I, leaving Hanien and Eliphia in the compartment next to James and Michael.

 As we unpacked, James, Michael, Tom and I taught those not from the UK some of our nation's great pub anthems. This of course meant 'Chelsea Dagger' by The Fratellis.

 "Do-do-do, do-do-do, do-do-do do-do do-do!" James warbled.

 "Do-do-do, do-do-do, dae-do do de-do," Michael replied.

 "Dum-de-dum, dum-de-dum, dum-de-dum de-dum de-dum," Tom continued.

 "Dum-de-dum, dum-de-dum, de-dum dum de," I hummed.

 "Dum!" we all finished.

  "That's the whole song?" Annisa asked, incredulous.

 "Well, that's the chorus," James admitted, "But that's the general gist of it. Come on, then."

 And so we all do-do-doed to the end of our unpacking and I have to say, it really did make the process feel faster.  Once we were finished, we donned our fleece-lined waterproof jackets and emerged into the outdoors. I could barely see anything at first because the wind whipped my hair into my face and my hair is long ... I mean really, really long. Eliphia offered me a bobble to hold it back and mercifully my vision was restored just in time to see James do a Bugs Bunny impression.

 "What's for dinner?" Isaac asked eagerly.

 "Probably a barbecue," Michael shrugged.

 "But it's freezing out here!" Isaac had stopped walking and seemed shocked into paralysis by news of the night's dining.

 "Yeah," James nodded, " The fire from it's supposed to heat you up!"

 Isaac shuddered but started walking again.

 "Where are we going?" Hanien asked.

 "To get food to barbecue," James replied.

 "How?" Annisa asked, "We don't have any cars and I don't see any shops around anywhere."

 "We have bikes," Michael replied and began to barrel towards the bus.

 Underneath the bus was a deep compartment that spanned the entire area of the bus floor. James produced a key from his pocket, twisted it in a lock in the centre of the compartment door and flung the door open. Mounds of bikes lay haphazardly like an overgrown CD collection on the linoleum floor of the compartment.

 James and Michael hauled out eight bikes, all of varying sizes, placing them in front of us. Mine was the deep blue of Ravenclaw house from Harry Potter. I swung my leg over the crossbar and dragged the pedal up. Michael shoved the door back into place and James handed out helmets to everyone.

 "Ready?" James called over his shoulder as he mounted the bike.

 "Ready," we replied.

  We began slowly but were soon  thundering along the dust-strewn country path towards the main road. Once reached, the road swept us along its tarmac with minimal effort on our part and our attention could be focussed on staying out of the occasional car that trundled past us. The wind whooped around my ears and I could see the shirts off everyone in front of me flapping in the wind. James's black tracksuit jacket was practically a parachute it was so filled with air.

 When we reached the supermarket, we decided to split into pairs to shop for food. James went with Eliphia, Michael went with Annisa, Hanien went with Isaac and I went with Tom.

 "Nee-aow!" Tom screeched as he oversteered the trolley into the dairy aisle, "Vroom vroom-vroom vroom vroom-vroom vroom."

 "Yum, dairy," I smiled, "I love cheese!"

 "Hey, I have an awkward question," Tom murmured, studying the cheeses, "Do all four of you girls love James?"

 My brain stuttered to a halt and my stomach leapt a few inches into the air. I'd never really talked about anything 'James' related out loud. I honestly didn't have an answer ready at all. I mean, who asks someone if they're in life with someone nineteen years older than them with whom they're on a camping trip?

 "I um ... I don't know," I muttered, "I mean, he's incredible but, how am I supposed to know?"

 "They say a crush is live when it persists for four months."

 "It's been over ten but I don't know whether that means anything. Please don't tell him, though," I whispered.

 "Of course not." Tom nodded and picked a wedge of Edam from the shelf. "I wouldn't do that, I promise."

 Tom and I made a quick round of the supermarket, filling our trolley with all manner of cheese, pasta sauces and instant meal cheesy pasta. We reunited with everyone at the checkout and I had to hide behind Tom or risk James spot me blushing every time I looked his way. Eventually, we were all ready and soon atop our bikes riding back to the campsite for our barbecue.

Part 8 - I Spy

By the next Monday morning, the bags were packed, the bus was hired and the consent forms were signed. James had sent us all to bed early the night before and roused us at six-thirty am. I was lucky enough to hear him coming, which meant I avoided being awoken by the metal of his key pressed against my back, which was the fate awaiting about half of our class. Annisa's scream, in particular was probably what aroused me from sleep. I had no idea one human could make such a high-pitched sound.
James seemed to find our reactions hilarious and practically skipped along the corridor to the kitchen, laughing with glee. Hanien, Eliphia, Annisa and I trudged along with the rest of the class and poured into the living room, kitchen and bathroom. I was halfway through my cornflakes - the four of us were sat on a set of two two-seater couches that directly faced each other - when James approached and hopped onto the back of the couch opposite me. This was the one on which Eliphia and Hanien sat.

 "Excited?" he asked with a grin.

 "Yeah," Annisa replied, "But Joanne's been warning me about the weather."

 "I don't think it's too bad." James cocked his head to the side. "I mean, there are a couple of light showers a day and there's one day with a very heavy shower. Temperatures are around seven degrees, I think. But we'll do lots of exercise and go cycling and walking so I'm sure we'll be warm enough."

 "Wait, where are we cycling?" I asked.

 "Kirroughtree. You know, the one with the taster loop and the really smooth stane?" James seemed surprised that I knew what he was talking about.

 "Stane?" Hanien raised an eyebrow.

 "It's a forestry commission thing, I think," James explained. "There are seven stanes - stones, I mean - and the idea is to go all around Scotland cycling the different tracks and getting pictures with the different stanes."

 "The one at Glentress has Klingon engraved on it!" I exclaimed, remembering that James was a trekkie.

 "Oh yeah, on the way up to Betty Blue!" James nodded. "Betty Blue's one of the tracks. Blue means moderate difficulty and Betty, well, it could just have easily have been Billy Blue. Okay, I'm going to go check on some other people. Still sure about Cream o' Galloway?"

 We nodded that we were and relaxed into the couches.

 "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ... T!" James declared. He was sat in front of us on the bus but kept twisting around to talk to us. We were on the left side of the bus, very near the front. I sat at the window seat directly behind whoever was next to James and Hanien was beside me, directly behind James. Behind me was Annisa and behind Hanien was Eliphia.
 "Tree!" Eliphia exclaimed.
 "Nope," James grinned, "I'm not that obvious!"
 "Tyres?" Hanien suggested.
 James shook his head and giggled.
 "Oh, wow!" came a shout from beside James.
 "I recognise that voice," Annisa murmured.
 "I just saw Peter Capaldi's 'Doctor Who' costume!" the voice continued.
 "Oh," I realised, "Essex accent. Whovian. Letter 'T'. Hi, Tom!"
 James nodded. "You got it!"
 "So... " Eliphia giggled, "The thing beginning with 'T' was Tom Fletcher ... Of McFly?"
 "Yep." James nodded.
 "What?" Tom whirled round to face us.
 "Oh we're playing 'I Spy'," I explained, "He's got a cool coat hasn't he?"
 "What - Oh Capaldi?" Tom replied, "Yeah, he's going to be a very 'cool' Doctor."
 "Ironic given that the last one taught kids that cool is not cool," James added.
 "Yes, well, I guess you need variety," Tom concluded, "So 'I Spy'? Okay, um, I spy with my little eye, something beginning with R.S."
 That stumped us. All five of us slumped into our chairs and tried not to look at the smug expression on Tom's face. After a while, we drifted slightly and began to ramble on about X-Men.
 "What's ironic," James chuckled, "Is that in the 'X-Men: Evolution' cartoons, Wolverine is Australian! And I could understand if they had an American actor and didn't make him do an Australian accent but they already had an Aussie actor! Why on Earth did he not keep his accent?!"
 "You almost always change your accent and that's because it's important to the plot of the story. Wolverine was supposed to seem really gloomy and to be honest when I watched the cartoons I always had trouble believing he was as temperamental as he was meant to be because he was always saying things like 'dingo'," I noted.
 "So you're saying that Hugh Jackman played Wolverine as American because Australians are too much fun?" Tom summarised.
 "Yep."
 Suddenly, the bus swerved and I spotted a small car dodging around haphazardly in across the lanes of the motorway and heard the bus driver cursing at it under his breath. The bus thundered onto the hard shoulder and juddered as the driver struggled to right it. Once we were back on course, Tom - that's kid Tom, not Tom from McFly - leaned over across the aisle towards me and tapped my arm.
 "Rumble strip," he mumbled.
 "Yep!" Tom - the one from McFly - shouted, "You've got it!"
 "Okay, I'll go next," Isaac, who was sat next to kid-Tom announced, "I spy with my little eye ... Did that sign say Wigtown?"
 "Oh!" James exclaimed, "So it did! We're here!"
 The bus trundled onto a gravelly farm path and soon led us onto a flat field of grass. The field was dotted with tents and a few fences. In its centre was a narrow ring of fences that enclosed a few skinny trees and at the boundary to our right was where a more immediate threat than crazy canonist extremists was waiting for James: three horses.

Part 7 - School Trip

 I think it was during a Maths lesson in our second week at the Internet School that James got the first call. He'd decided after that first day to try to get in contact with the police. I think it's safe to say, in fact, that we four all thought it was the police calling him. He'd been going through some differential equations and had seemed to be nodding off as he delivered his lesson. He's never as interested in Maths as he is in Drama or History, for example, but he normally still manages to entertain us with body language and facial expressions.
 "So, you, um, multiply the coefficient by... " he had yawned, " ... the power. Then take one off the power."
 He had blinked rapidly and tried to rouse himself. Then the jangling sound of his 'Don't Stop Me Now' ringtone had begun to emanate from his pocket and he'd excused himself from the room. We could hear him muttering something into the phone very quickly and very quietly and all four of us tensed visibly.
 "Is he okay?" Tom asked me.
 "I don't know," I replied distractedly, "I was up early this morning and he was just pacing around the living room yelling about cannons."
 "Cannons or canon?" Tom frowned.
 "I would have thought canon but he's become a little unpredictable recently and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he was debating the failings of pre-Dreadnought war ships with himself," I murmured.
 James re-entered the room and ushered in one of the members of One Direction - we had music next - urging them to take the maths lesson. He signalled for the four of us to come with him. By now the class was used to this and we'd come up with the more comprehensive cover story that we were involved in a fanfiction project. I shrugged at Tom and followed Annisa, Eliphia and Hanien out of the class.
 This time James took us back to our common room and sat us down in the kitchen.
 "I did something stupid," he began, "I made a rash decision and I regret it now but it can't be undone. I got on Facebook, got accepted into my own fan group and sent Paul a private message. I told him I couldn't do as he asked but that I was not giving up. I ... arranged to meet him. That's who the call was from. He was confirming the time and place."
 "Where are you going to meet him?" Hanien asked.
 "Cream 'O' Galloway Park," James replied, "It's public enough that he can't harm me but spread out enough that we can talk without people overhearing us. Do you know it, Joanne?"
 "Yeah," I replied, "It's my favourite play-park all time! What do you need us for, then?"
 "Well, it's quite hard to get time off here but Benedict suggested we all take a school trip to go camping. I guess I just wanted to give you warning. I think the classes are going to dissolve and mix with one another so it should be easy for me to get away. I want to know if any of you would like to come with me. It could be potentially dangerous and I personally don't think it's a good idea but for Eliphia and Joanne especially, whose friends have been kidnapped, I thought I owed you all to at least ask. You've all been so helpful over the past few weeks, I had to at least give you the choice. And, I have to admit, I'm significantly frightened by the prospect of going alone." James held his head aloft to show he was not afraid of admitting his fear.
 I glanced at Eliphia, who had been a member of the James McAvoy Fan Club when I joined and had therefore known Jan and Tara for longer. Her hands were set in fists and she was rubbing her knuckles with her thumb. Annisa and Hanien seemed similarly determined. I took a deep breath and stood from my seat at the kitchen table. I found the others also now on their feet and joined them in circling round the side of the table to where James was now also in the process of standing. We stood in a semi-circle in front of him and wrapped him into a hug.
 "So that's a yes, then?" he croaked as he emerged from the huddle, seemingly willing back tears.
 "Absolutely," Eliphia whispered.
 Annisa, Hanien and I nodded our assent and James nodded back.
 "Okay," James raised his voice back to normal level, or even slightly above, "Any ideas for a campsite, Joanne? I reckon there would be some objections to wild camping from all the girls."
 "Hey, you'd object too if you couldn't pee standing up. Anyway, I know one near Dumfries. It's quite close to Wigtown. Oh... wait... "
 "What?" James raised an eyebrow.
 "There may be a slight problem," I murmured, "Just how allergic are you to horses?"

Part 6 - The Goofy-goobers ROCK

 Our music teachers - all nine of them - arrived a little early to the classroom. James was still in the midst of a geography lesson about the different types of rock that exist in the world. Well, the lesson had descended into somewhat of a singsong. Someone had suggested that one of the most prominent types of rock in Britain in the seventies was 'punk rock' and James had immediately responded by blurting out a few verses of the Ramones song, 'Sheena is a Punk Rocker'. This had led through Joan Jett's rendition of 'I Love Rock 'n' Roll' and Elvis Presley's 'Jailhouse Rock', all the way to 'Goofy-goobers Rock', which was sung at the climax moment of the Spongebob Squarepants movie.
 "I'm a goofy-goober, ROCK, you're a goofy-goober, ROCK, we're all goofy-goobers, ROCK, goofy-goofy-goofy-goober, ROCK!" James had his eyes lying shut and was head-banging as he sang.
 He noticed Tom Fletcher of McFly mouthing the words from the doorway and giggled.
 "Sorry about that. I'll, uh, just be getting going now." James chuckled.
 "No, no, not at all." Dougie Poynter shook his head. "Wrap up in your own time."
 James nodded and clapped his hands together then realised he had very little to say. He nodded again, shot the four of us - Hanien, Annisa, Eliphia and I - a pointed glance and trotted out of the room, nearly skipping.
 The members of the two groups shuffled in and lined up along the front wall of the room. They looked awkwardly between each other and eventually it was the curly-haired one from One Direction who began to speak. The one that went out with Taylor Swift ... Harry Styles! That's his name. He began to outline the music course that we'd be undertaking this year and I'll give him that he was very enthusiastic about it. In fact, I'd probably have been sufficiently interested if I hadn't been constantly comparing him to the musical delights of James singing songs from beloved children's movies.
 Since there were five tables and nine teachers, it was decided to split the teachers between tables. We were assigned Tom Fletcher and Liam Payne.
 "So, any questions?" Tom asked.
 "Do you like Chameleon Circuit?" I asked, "You know, the Trock band."
 "The what?" Liam spluttered.
 "Trock. Time Lord rock," Tom explained, "My sister is best friends with the man who invented it and I'm a massive Whovian so yes I am very excited by Trock."
 "Wait," Annisa murmured, "Is that Doctor Who music?"
 "Absolutely," put in Isaac. He and Tom, at the head of the table, could barely contain their laughter at Liam's bemused expression. "Actually, Annisa, Chameleon Circuit is that band that was on in the bus. Remember, the one me and Joanne started singing along to?"
 Annisa nodded and Liam still looked befuddled so we continued on to more traditional ground.
 "Do you know any of our stuff?" Tom asked, gesturing to himself and Liam.
 Tom and I both replied that we'd been big fans of McFly since childhood but weren't so well acquainted with One Direction. This seemed satisfactory to both of them and the teachers began to discuss what we were about to start work on.
 "Basically, we're making an album," Tom explained, "We need people taking on all the different roles. Liam and I will be producing. All the music is going to come from you. Okay, two people to sing and play rhythm guitar, someone to play lead guitar, someone to play drums, someone to play bass and sing backing vocals and someone to play keyboard and sing backing vocals."
 A few minutes of deliberating and we had our band.

 I was nervous suggesting myself to play lead guitar but I reckon keeping my voice out of the spotlight was a viable way of not seeming conceited. Plus, I had a year to improve the skills I'd been growing to fairly little extent over a year of guitar classes and I had Tom Fletcher to help me do it. To be honest, this really was helping take our minds off whatever James was planning.
 My mind, however, was sucked back to the subject of James when he appeared like a spectre in the hallway towards the end of the lesson. He cleared his throat and we excused ourselves from the class on the grounds that there were 'a few things left to take care of' in the matter of resolving our 'row'. Of course, James actually needed an update on if we'd managed to make contact with Jan or Tara yet but it seemed a good idea to stick to our cover story.
 He led us back to the same office room we'd been in earlier and we all took our places at the table. This time, James had carried in a chair which he placed at the edge of the table and sat himself down on. He tapped his foot on the ground for a few moments then agitatedly cleared his throat and set his hands face down on the table's surface.
 "So, Eliphia, Joanne, any contact with Jan or Tara?" James muttered.
 "Well... " I glanced at Eliphia as I started to update him, "...  we commented on something they posted in your fan club on the open day and we didn't get any reply but, an account called P. Z. Proseguard. We remembered that Paul's initials are P. Z. and Proseguard is a combination of the words 'prosetic' and 'guardians'."
 "What did he say?" James squeaked.
 Eliphia answered, "He said to message him. Which we did. On private messaging he told us that he was in fact Paul and he revealed to us what he wanted."
 "Why didn't he make his demands known before?" James wondered.
 "He wanted to communicate to you, James, directly. Of course by this point we'd explained that we were at the Internet School so he realised he could reach you through us," Eliphia explained, "What he wanted was for the school to immediately shut down. He said in exchange, Jan and Tara would be returned."
 "Or else?" James prompted.
 "Or else he would keep them locked up and they'd know for the rest of their lives that their idol, James McAvoy, had abandoned them," I finished.
 James crossed his arms on the table and lay his head in the diamond created. He made a groaning sound and we could actually see him quivering in frustration. We each lay a hand on his balled up fists which formed a sort of canal gate that let his hair flow through in tufts. We patted him in consolation and he raised himself up to full height in the chair.
 "We are not letting this school close. We are not letting him hurt Jan and Tara," James declared.
 "But what can we possibly do?" Annisa asked.
 "I don't know yet. I only know that those are two things we can definitely not do. What about Twitter, Annisa, Hanien?" James turned to each of them, both on either sides of the table. "Anything to report about Paul's companion?"
 "Nothing much," Annisa reported, "Just normal, mundane status updates. What we did find was the Prosetic Guardians main Twitter account. There are a couple of admins and one of them mentioned something about Mogul Ziemkoll."
 "Who's Mogul?" Eliphia asked.
 "It's a term for somebody important, the leader of something," Hanien explained, "We think Paul may be a Mogul in the Prosetic movement."
 "Okay... " James ruffled his hair. "What kind of accounts did you make? Did you make contact with anyone on Twitter?"
 "The accounts are kind of like Paul's on Facebook," Hanien explained, "I am H-Canon. Annisa is H-Guard. We didn't talk to anyone but we favourited a couple of that account's tweets and got followed by some of its followers."
 "Okay." James shuddered in a breath. "Well done, very well done. And thank you, all four of you."
 James gestured for us to stand up and gather around him. He wrapped his arms around all of us and his head sank into a massive group hug. As he ushered us out to go ahead of him to P.E., his voice was starting to crack and I could see his jaw set in an attempt to hold back tears. He did well and when he appeared in the P.E. hall ten minutes later in an X-Men t-shirt, he was as cheery and charming as ever, I even heard him slip out a few lines of the goofy-goobers rock as he surveyed our badminton games around the hall.

Part 5 - Our Mission

We were led to a quiet room with grey walls, four plastic chairs and a lone wooden table. On one wall, to our right when we entered, was a rectangular whiteboard which stretched from almost one side of the room to the other. It displayed a few notes in squiggly handwriting that I didn't even attempt to read.
"What is this place?" Hanien asked.
"This is where all the magic happens, somewhat literally," James explained, "What we need to do now is going to involve a much more electronic means. Joanne, Eliphia, get your phones out and get on Facebook. Hanien and Annisa we need you two to get on Twitter and create anonymous accounts. We're going to have these accounts follow the account of someone Paul was sighted talking to by a journalist. They won't tell us where that was yet but I reckon we can make a start at finding out."
 James gestured for us to sit down and we positioned ourselves around the table in the same way we had when we'd been in the classroom. James rolled up the sleeves of his pale turquoise shirt and ran his hands through his hair, which was fairly floppy from this gesture having been repeated many times. He leaned forward and placed his palms on the table, his fingers gripping the table's edges. He exhaled through closed lips which caused his entire mouth to vibrate.
 "Look, this is difficult for me. We've been told that Paul has affiliation with an extremist group known as the Prosetic Guardians. They're an extreme canonist group that strongly disagree with fanfiction and any over-analysis of literature. They believe that engagement and speculation is to sully a piece of someone's work, no matter the medium. They believe that it is not the place of the reader or audience to apply their own ideas to the work of somebody else. They want to abolish the study of literature in schools, ban sites that support fanfiction and break up book clubs. They want people to read books and discuss the ideas put forward by the writer only with the writer.
 "I don't agree with this. I never will. It goes against all the values of creativity, imagination and involvement that this school tries so hard to embody. But I just can't imagine Paul doing this. He was such a happy boy. He loved talking about all things Marvel. I just can't think what might have pushed him to this. To tell the truth, I'm worried it was me." James traced a semi-circle on the floor with the big toe on his right foot. "He wanted to talk to me about more than his social life that day. I don't know what but I've never told anyone that, not even Benedict and Michael. It sounded serious. He sounded really angry and desperate but I just kept promising I'd talk to him about it after the open day was over but he was just getting angrier and angrier and calling me an egoist, which, I guess, was totally accurate at the time. All he would say was that he had a big decision to make. I can only assume that the decision was whether or not to join the Guardians."
 James folded at the waist and his head sank down to the surface of the table.
 Eliphia patted his tense wrist. "We're on it, James."
 He drew in a breath and nodded. "Okay. I'll catch up with you all towards the end of Music because that's my free period and its lunch next. I need you to be discreet about this. If anyone asks where you were... I don't know... maybe you all had a fight and I was helping you resolve it?"
 "What could we be fighting over?" I wondered.
 "James," Hanien answered automatically.
 "What?" James faced her. "Did you want something?"
 "No." Hanien shook her head. "We could be fighting over you."
 James puffed his shoulders. "Huh. I've never had people fight over me. I could get used to this."
 I flicked his knuckle with my fingernail. "Focus... "
 "Yes, okay." James shook his head. "Okay, let's go to English. Oh, and nobody breathes a word about Paul Ziemkoll to Ian McEwan."

 Ian McEwan's English class was, to me at least, exhilarating. I could have listened to him all day as he talked about themes and symbolism and how to manipulate an audience into crying their eyes dry over the tragic death of a fictional character. I certainly trusted his advice on the subject, given that I'd never spoken to anyone who'd read or seen 'Atonement' that hadn't been screaming their throats raw at Briony by the end. In fact, on multiple occasions in his 2012 novel 'Sweet Tooth', I'd been so shocked that I'd actually gasped sharply like a surprised cartoon character. I did not, however, take all that many notes. I found myself at the end of his opening speech with my pen poised over an English jotter like I'd been frozen in an iceberg at the beginning of the lesson. My wrist had fallen limp and my eyes stung from forgetting to blink.
 "Any questions?" he asked cheerily.
 As it happened, I did have one. "When you were describing Briony's love of writing at the beginning of 'Atonement', did you ever worry you were very similar in some respects to her?"
 "Actually," he mused, "I think James McAvoy has a great theory on that one. Briony is the centre of her Universe and will never emerge from the little bubble she lives in. I can promise myself that this is not who I am, because I just asked you all if she had any questions and Briony would never have thought of doing that."
 A couple of people asked questions about historical accuracy and the casting of Benedict Cumberbatch as Paul Marshall, whose features were described as 'slightly out of place' or something like that. Eliphia, Hanien, Annisa and I found ourselves fidgeting and rhythmically tapping on the desk. I felt guilty, given that these English classes were most of the reason I'd applied to the Internet School in the first place. Still, James was relying on us to act normal so I took a deep breath and scribbled down what I could remember of what Ian had been saying.

Part 4 - History Lesson

 There were two rooms of beds - one for boys, one for girls. I was in bed nine, Annisa in bed ten, Hanien in bed eleven and Eliphia bed twelve. I tried to sleep that night, honestly, I did but I was too distracted by the electronic welcome pack James had issued us on his way to his own bedroom, which was even further along the hallways. There was an iPod like device that was connected onto Wi-Fi with a personalised password that we'd listed in our forms. The extra services, the school services, were incredible. There were syllabuses and activities and trivia games and maps and free books from the Writer teachers, free music from the Musician and free movies from the Actor teachers. I was awake until at least one in the morning before I finally convinced myself to try to sleep.
 Even so, I found myself bubbling over with anticipation on the morning of our first lessons. I woke at around seven, with classes starting at half past eight. I roused Annisa, Hanien and Eliphia, who were equally excitable. Then we were off on our quest for breakfast. We found James in navy pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt at a table in the kitchen, munching on a bowl of 'Frosties'.
 "Ah, morning," he gargled through the milk, "I was going to wake everyone at quarter past."
 "I don't think we're the only ones awake," Eliphia noted, "I think we were just the only ones who actually got up."
 "Right, well, cereal's in the cupboard, milk's in the fridge, bread's in the cupboard under the chopping board and the toaster, well, I guess you can see the toaster." James gestured to his left at the sleek cuboid of metal with rounded edges that we all presumed was the toaster.
 I fixed myself some cornflakes and eyed the bookshelf in the living room through the kitchen's doorway as I ate.
 "What kind of books you got?" I asked between spoonfuls.
 "Erm, some teenage stuff and some adult stuff. The teenage stuff is mostly adventure, fantasy and sci-fi. The adult stuff is where you'll find all the romance, thrillers and mysteries. Get something down while you eat if you want," James offered.
 "Maybe once I'm more used to the morning routine. A book will just distract me and I don't want to be late on the first - Eliphia how can you be finished already?!"
 She was not the only one. Hanien had also finished her breakfast and Annisa wasn't far off.
 "Oh, come on," I sighed, "I know I eat slowly but just come on."
 James patted me on the back and announced he was going to go and wake up the rest of the class. Hanien and Annisa stayed with me while I finished but Eliphia said she took a while to get ready in the morning so she left to go get started. I gobbled up my cereal fast enough to almost choke me and hurried off to the bathrooms to beat the queues which were soon to crop up once James woke everyone else. Once we were dressed in casual clothes and our uniform cloaks, the whole class gathered in the living room to be briefed on how the classes would work.
 "Obviously you're all of different ages," James began, "but we've talked to the teachers from your old schools and we know exactly how to continue with the education of each one of you. The fandom classes will be focussed mainly on media studies and analysing some of the most adventure-filled, action-packed books around, such as Divergent, The Hunger Games and the Gone series. Also, Narnia. I love that part. Today, the classes go History, English, Geography, Music, Tech, Computing and P.E. English will be taught by Ian McEwan and Music will be taught by a group job-share, yes, you heard that right, between McFly and One Direction."
 There were a series of whoops and groans, in equal measure. Me, I was almost exploding at the fact that I would be taught music by McFly, whom I'd listed as my favourite band. One Direction, however, I was as yet undecided about. I tried to keep an open mind and hope they weren't as rigid as they appeared on TV. James declared that he was done and led us all out of the common room and onto the main circuit of corridors. These led us onto an ornate balcony that ringed around a high-ceilinged hall with stained glass of BBC television shows. There were digital noticeboards blinking all over the walls and more of those displays I'd seen on the way to the common room.
 The classroom we stopped in was nothing special. Well, it did have a giant poster with the picture from James's staff ID card on it. Other than the decoration, though, there was little to distinguish it from a regular classroom. James gestured for us to take a seat at the blocks of desks around the room. There were five groups of three two-person tables. They were arranged with the long edges of two of the tables lined up together and the final table had its long edge lined up against the join, like a Lego brink stabilising the structure.
 Annisa, Hanien, Eliphia and I sat at the one nearest James's desk. I swear we weren't sucking up. Honestly, the other tables were just flooded with people before we even finished the conversation we'd been having on the way there. The table was at the left of the room and was joined to James's desk which joined to the wall on its right edge. I sat in the chair near the computer end of his desk, which put me in a snug corner between the wall, the desk and Annisa, who was on my right. Across from me was Eliphia, who was nearest to where James was perched on the edge of his desk and next to her on her left was Hanien. Isaac sat at the end of the table that faced the front, on the left side which put him perpendicular to Annisa. Beside him was a boy called Tom who turned out to be from Motherwell, which is a town near where I live.
 James slid the cap off the lens of the projector on the left hand side of his desk and a slideshow sprang onto the wall.
 "So," he began, "Before we start History today, I'm going to explain how your Digi-packs, those are the things that look like phones, work. There is a scoring system based on the number of hours you spend studying and the results you get in your exams. You can use the points to win prizes such as free books, episodes of television shows, films. This is also where you're going to store the character we're going to make up throughout the year."
 We all examined the Digi-packs and entered the names of the characters we'd come up with into an app that James said he, Michael and Benedict had designed. I'd asked James the night before to change the name of my character, since I'd been inspired by Karim Gecko and now wanted to set my character in the past and 'Martha' isn't exactly a traditional name. He said that was okay.
 "Obviously everyone's going to be studying different aspects of history but I'm going to try to get round everybody today and find out how I can help you. I'll start with you, Eliphia." James swivelled off the desk and was suddenly standing over Eliphia.
 He got around us fairly quickly and in plenty of time to get started on his imperialism through the ages.
 Pointing to a large area of turquoise on a map of twelfth century Europe, he declared, "This was the great Angevin Empire. On his mother's side, that's Eleanor of Aquitaine, Richard the Lionheart was entitled to the Duchies of Aquitaine and Gascony. The Duchy of Normandy came from his father, Henry II, as did the Kingdom of England and the Lordship of Ireland. Wales and Scotland were vaguely under his control but not officially in the Empire. The counties included in the Angevin Empire were Anjou, Poitou, Maine, Touriane, Saintonge, Marche, Périgord, Limousin, Nantes, and Quercy."
 With each county name he smacked the projector screen with his index finger for emphasis. An arrow would simultaneously slide into place behind where he was pointing and name the county.
 He grinned. "D'you like my slideshow. I spent most of yesterday on it."
 "Yes, James," we chorused.
 He giggled and asked if anyone knew anything about the Angevin Empire.
 "I know that Richard the Lionheart didn't speak English very well," I offered, "Ironic isn't it?"
 "Yes." James nodded. "Actually, I saw a book about him on your 'recently read' list. Be careful what you take from it though. Historical fiction is not always to be trusted."
 I nodded.
 The bell was due to go soon so James had us all tidy up our History jotters. Somebody called him from outside the classroom and he jogged out to find where the voice had come from. When he returned, his face was dark and troubled. He motioned to the doorway and said Ian McEwan would be there soon to teach us English. Before he left, he gestured for Eliphia, Annisa, Hanien and I to follow him. I broke off a conversation with Tom about Harry Potter and trotted out just behind them.
 "What's wrong, James?" Annisa asked, the worry in her voice underlining how all of us felt.
 "Nope," James mumbled, "Not here. Come with me. Now."

Part 3 - Hide 'n' Seek

 I have never sat in a chair as comfortable as the armchair I sprawled in while I counted to fifty, a slow fifty. James left for a while to go take care of what he called 'some bureaucratic gobbledygook' and I imagine he was surprised to come back and find us all crouching under tables and behind wardrobes, wrapped up in the most exciting game of hide 'n' seek ever. I smiled to myself as I lay on the couch with my eyes screwed shut, my hands behind my head. I knew this place would be good.
 "Ready or not, here I come!" I called, just as I spotted James stroll through the door.
 He giggled and gestured for me to continue. "You want any help?"
 "I don't know if I'm allowed," I murmured, "Okay, how about after I find the first person and therefore we know who will be het next, you help me?"
 "Sure," James nodded.
 I peeled off to my left and sauntered down the first hallway. I was fairly certain that that was where I'd heard everybody thunder off to when I'd first started counting. The hallways were more like tunnels, with bright spots of light poking out of concave doors that led off of them. The first hallway I paced down was the most unsettling. I'm not bad with the dark, but it was just so silent. Silence is what comes before the storm and also what comes immediately before I begin to panic. Ironically, I also freak out at sudden loud noises. I wished I had enrolled James in the search so at least I'd have him beside me to listen to.
 I crept into one of the rooms, caught between ridding myself of the silence and making too much noise to be able to hear any mouth-breathers that might be giving away their hiding places. This room was a laundry room by the looks of things. There were three washing machines, three tumble dryers and three clothes-horses lining the room and the paper was a very bright yellow. I checked all nine of these items before realising that immediately behind the door, which had opened inwards to the right, was a stocky wooden wardrobe.
 I cracked open the door of the wardrobe and thrust my hand in, waving it back and forth among the waterproof jackets and waterproof trousers. My hand quickly happened upon the warmth of a body and I let out a sigh of relief as I cried out my victory.
 "Ha! Found you! You're het," I smiled.
 "Het?" came a feminine voice from within with an Asian accent, though I couldn't place it any more than that.
 "Yeah, like, you're counting next?"
 "Oh, right, you mean 'it'?" The girl emerged clumsily from the wardrobe.
 "I guess. Sorry, I guess that must be a slang thing. So where are you from then? What's your name?"
 "I'm Hanien." The girl and I shook hands. "I'm from Dubai. I'm a humongous fan of James's. He's brilliant."
 "Cool. I'm Joanne. I'm from Scotland."
 "Yeah, you're the girl who went first with the characters?"
 "Yeah. Oh, I just remembered, James said he'd help find the rest of the class after I found the first one."
 "Let's go get him?"
 I nodded and jogged back out of the laundry room. I swooped back along the hallway and sprang into the main room, which I guess was the living room. James was lying on one of the couches reading a newspaper, with a can of Irn Bru in his hand.
 "Found one?" he asked after swallowing a large swig.
 "Yep. Can we have a hand please?" I motioned to Hanien.
 "Course." James flipped off of the couch and skidded over to us. "I think you should check under the beds."
 We found four people in a kitchen room and another five in what appeared to be a storage unit, judging by the junk it housed. They in turn also found more people and by the time we reached the bedrooms, we had amassed a company of twenty pupils. The first nine of those remaining were under the beds, one of which was Isaac. The last pupil left, I realised, was Annisa.
 James crossed to one of the beds, bed '10', and slumped down on it, resting his chin on his hand, which in turn was rested on his knee The beds were mahogany four-posters with surfaces equivalent to the area of the bed raised about six feet above it, like a bunkbed without the top bunk.
 "Hmm," he murmured, "That's pretty much where everyone normally -"
 A large groaning sound came from above James's head.
 "What the hell was that?" a Welsh girl's voice exclaimed. I think her name was Cara.
 James's eyes slid upwards and he raised his eyebrows towards the flat surface above him. He swung out from the bed and placed his feet on its surface, gripping the flat surface above with both hands.
 "Oh, wow," he muttered, "Well done! How on Earth did you get up here?!"
 We craned our necks upwards and sure enough, there was Annisa lying flat on her belly on the top surface of the bed. James clapped her on the back and offered her a hand to help her back down. She swung her legs off the edge and James helped her guide her feet to the mattress. James looked out at the assembled group of students and clapped his hands together.

 "Right. Time for dinner."

 For dinner, we all marched out to the school's six canteen halls. We split up according to culinary choices, each canteen being assigned to a particular continent's food; there didn't seem much point including a section for Antarctica. James declared that he had a 'hankering' for risotto and I always make a point of inspecting the green pesto sauce of any restaurant I eat at so I caught a hold of Annisa and Hanien and we three headed off to the European hall, a respectful distance behind James. We didn't want to look like we were staking him.

  In the end, it didn't matter, because James beckoned for us to sit with him, Benedict Cumberbatch and Michael Fassbender. The ordering systems were electronic and used touch screens built into the surface of the table. I scrolled through the lists of Italian dishes and quickly found what I was looking for. The girl across from me, Eliphia, had been one of the people found under the beds in the game. Hanien sat next to her and Annisa sat next to me. At Annisa's right sat James and across from him was Michael. Benedict sat at the head of the table like a content King.

 "So what do you all want to do when you grow up?" Michael asked.

 "Oh, oh, oh!" James flapped his hands. "Let me try and remember from the forms. Okay, Joanne, you want to be a writer. I know that. Eliphia is going to be a fashion designer and Annisa... chemist isn't it?"

 "Yeah"

 "And where's Hanien?"

 "She's at the bathroom," Eliphia explained.

 "So writing." Michael turned to me. "What kind of things do you write."
 "A couple of novels and some fanfiction."
 Benedict's alarm was plainly evident. "What kind of fanfiction?"
 "Nothing like that, honest," I promised. Benedict's fans do have a notorious reputation for... intense fanfiction.
 "Who's the English teacher for your class, James?" Michael asked.
 "Actually, I'm really quite happy. It's Ian McEwan this year. Remember, the guy who wrote 'Atonement'?" James urged Michael on seeing his blank expression.
 "Oh." Benedict lowered his head.
 "What?" James's alarm seeped slightly out of him.
 "Paul Ziemkoll was in his class last year," Benedict whispered, but loud enough that we heard him.
 "Oh," James replied.
 "Oh," echoed Michael.
 "Who's Paul Ziemkoll?" Hanien, who was now back from the bathroom, asked.
 "Oops." James gulped. "Well, you might as well know. There was this conference day near the end of last year where the school opened its doors and fans could join us for the entire day. There were two women in particular, Jan and Tara, who were big fans of, well, me. And as for Paul... I'd become like a mentor to him. He'd be consulting me on all the work he produced and talking to me about personal things too. Anyway, I was talking to Tara and Jan all day because who wouldn't want to talk to someone who complimented everything you did? Paul had some serious problems at the time. I think the girl he fancied had just started going out with his best friend and there had been a huge fight, a physical one, and Paul had been alienated from all his friends. Anyway, I didn't see him all day until the very end when he appeared with two knives from the kitchens, one in each hand. He pressed the tip of one to Tara's back and the other to Jan's and he nearly killed them. Eventually we convinced him to put the knives down but at dinner he was gone and so were Jan and Tara."
 "How could they be gone?" Eliphia was aghast.
 "We don't know," Michael replied solemnly, "but the police and some journalists have some leads."
 "Kind of like 'State of Play'," I observed.
 "Yes." James pointed energetically at me. "Yes, precisely like 'State of Play'. The best Sergeant Chewy's and Cal McAffrey's and Della Smith's are on the case. I promise. I even met some of them. It's just hide 'n' seek. They'll find him."
 "Actually," Benedict put in, "there are even rumours that they established contact with Jan and Tara over Facebook-"
 "No way!" I cried, "Oh my God, Eliphia, you're that Eliphia, aren't you. And Jan, it's Jan Warren isn't it. And Tara. Oh my God. We have to get on Facebook!"
 Eliphia already had her phone out and was tapping at the keypad.
 "What, what, what?" James's eyes seemed to be whirling.
 "Your Facebook Fan Club. Jan created it. Tara practically lives in it."
 "Last thing Tara posted was a status about finally meeting James, a month and a half ago," Eliphia murmured, "That's highly unusual for Tara. She's normally never off Twitter."
 "What about Jan?" James asked urgently.
 "Something about how she felt kind of bad for stealing James away from that student," Eliphia sighed.
 James looked distraught and opened his mouth to say something but had to stop because the food arrived just as he was about to speak. It hurtled down in miniature versions of the carts on rollercoasters, along a swooping track of four parallel bars that led all around the canteen hall. The hall itself was packed with students and the walls were wooden panelled like the hall of a Plantagenet or Tudor monarch. The benches we sat on were cushioned with plush green upholstery that dipped every few inches to a pale green button in the fabric. The excitement the hall contained was easily comparable to the raucous cheering in the court of Henry VIII, at least enough to overwhelm all talk of kidnapping. The rest of the meal was typical of a pleasant night out among friends, which I guess meant that that's what all seven of us were. We were friends.