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doing it to pay her back, kind of thing. I wouldn’t want her thinking that! Cos honestly, I’m not.”
    Jem said it earnestly. I agreed. “You’re doing it cos you want to know. It’s your right.”
    â€œHow about asking your dad?” said Skye.
    Jem made a scoffing sound. “No use asking him. He’d just say, ask your mum. Then he’d go and tell her, and she’d get all hurt and stuff.”
    I was glad Jem didn’t want her mum to be hurt. But all the same, it was her right. There had to be some way she could find out.
    â€œThere’s got to be records,” I said.
    â€œBut where?”
    We both turned, instinctively, to Skye. She is a mine of information about all sorts of things, like if you want to know the capital of Peru or how far away the sun is from the earth. But Skye shrugged her shoulders and said she didn’t know.
    â€œIn some government office, maybe?”
    I made a face. That wasn’t any good. Government offices wouldn’t tell you anything; specially not if you were only eleven years old. There’d be bound to be some kind of law against it.
    â€œP’raps when you were adopted,” I said, “there’d have been papers or something?” I was a bit vague about what kind of papers, but it seems to me there are papers for pretty well everything. Dad always complains that he is drowning in them. He says, “Papers for this, papers for that… it’s a wonder there are any trees left standing.”
    â€œYou could always try looking,” I said.
    â€œI could.” Jem brightened. “I know where they’d be… in Mum and Dad’s desk. They keep everything in there, all locked away. The key’s in their dressing-table drawer. I can easily get it. It’s just a question of waiting for the right moment.”
    â€œYou mean like when your mum and dad aren’t there.” Skye had that look she sometimes gets, with her mouth all pursed, like she’s sucking on lemons. “This is starting to sound a bit off, if you ask me. It’s like you’re spying on them.”
    I said, “She’s not spying on them! She’s just trying to find out something she’s got every right to know, only she doesn’t want to hurt her mum.”
    â€œI wouldn’t read anything that’s private,” said Jem. “I’m only looking for stuff that’s about me.”
    Skye’s lips were still pursed. She can be so exasperating!
    â€œIf you won’t even let her look,” I said, “how is she supposed to find out?”
    â€œI’m not sure finding out is such a good idea,” said Skye.
    â€œBut it’s her right!”
    â€œIt’s my right,” said Jem.
    â€œIt’s all very well keeping on saying that, but suppose when you find out you wish you hadn’t?”
    Jem scrunched her face into a frown. “Why would I wish that?”
    â€œYou might find something you don’t like! People do,” said Skye. “They have these fantasies their mums are going to be celebs, or royalty, or something, and then they turn out to be… I don’t know! Something not very nice.”
    I said, “ Some people find their mums are celebs. Or their dads,” I added.
    In wondering tones, Jem said, “I never thought about my dad.”
    â€œYou can think about him later,” I told her. “The important thing is to find your mum.”
    â€œYou’re right!” She nodded. “I’ll find her first, then I can ask her about my dad.”
    I said, “Yes, cos she’ll be able to tell you who he was.”
    â€œMaybe,” said Skye.
    â€œMaybe not.”
    We both rounded on her. “Don’t be so negative!” I said.
    â€œIt’s not going to stop me,” said Jem. “I’m still going to do it, I don’t care what you say. I want to find out!”
    Jem and Skye were waiting