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the aircraft’s fake bomb? Something left behind by mistake? Or was it deliberate? Any other clues? She checked every pocket. On the inside, hidden away, she found another zipped pocket. Unzipping it, she felt inside.

      ‘Look!’ A flat watch in the shape of a bird. A copy-watch. One of those cheap fakes of famous brands. The ex- No 108 must have been the greatest Loser of all time.

      ‘We’re looking for a lost bird-lover who likes chocolate. Should be simple.’

      Christopher laughed. ‘Who wears navy shorts and climbing boots, like millions of others.’ He peered at the half photo. ‘With not-very-hairy legs.’

      Zoe took the watch. ‘Kea birds are the local thieves. They pinch everything that isn’t locked up. You’ll meet a few up the track. Bird smugglers try to get them out to sell for high prices overseas.’

      Quickly Zoe slipped the kea watch and photo into her pocket, suggesting she’d keep them until the end of the track.

      Was Zoe trying to hurry them along or was she covering up something about the kea watch? Would she know from her list who was on the earlier trip? Or would another guide have taken them?

      ‘D’you know who was 108 before me?’ asked Amy.

      ‘Have to check the list back at the hotel.’ Zoë tightened the re-sewn straps on Amy’s backpack and changed the subject. ‘The bad news is you carry your own gear. The good news is you don’t need much. The huts have drying rooms.’

      ’What luxury! Take that out.’ Mum pointed to the ‘Crash’ computer game.’ You’ll see it again in four days.

      Here, put my spare battery in your pack Amy.’

      Mum and Dad had to carry their cameras and sound equipment too. Plane passengers and The Loser might leave things behind, but Dad always double checked his gear. Sometimes he triple-checked.

      Around the hall, people were re-packing. Extra clothes could be left behind in name-tagged cases. These would be flown to the hotel at the end of the Track.

      ‘Ready?’ Mum weight-tested her pack.

      ‘Careful of Claud,’ fussed Dad. Claud was his best camera. ‘Don’t get it wet.’

      Usually, the twins flew in after their parents finished their work. But this trip was to be different. Christopher had forgotten how much Dad fussed when on a big job.

      ‘Here, a freebie. ‘ Zoe offered a cap ‘Explore with Dr Al. Each trek, we have a celebrity walking with us. Fans come just to walk with the celebrity.’

      ‘If a celebrity is someone famous,’ Christopher put the bright blue cap on, back to front, ‘can I get an autograph signed ... on my cap?’

      ‘Why not? Ask Dr Al. Last year a rugby fan got Big Jon to autograph his neck.’

      ‘Unreal, ‘ Christopher wondered if it had hurt. Pens were sharp. ‘ Big Jon was on our plane .’

      ‘Really?’ Zoe looked surprised. ‘ He has so many fans. One fan even tattooed Jon’s face on his shoulder. It wrinkled when he flexed his arm muscles.’

      ‘Slip these in your bag.’ Mum gave Christopher two birthday candles. They were number shaped. ‘They won’t make much difference to the weight.’

      ‘Who’s turning seven?’

      ‘Seventy. Day after tomorrow. Dr Al. Hide them. He’s coming this way now.’

      Smiling, the tall, thin man shook hands with their parents. Dad said,’ These are our twins.’

      Dr Al peered at Amy’s name tag. ‘ Hi. We’ve both got an A in our names.

      His face had lived-in wrinkles. His body moved easily. ‘Amy? There was a famous woman flyer called Amy Johnson . She flew around the world. Were you named after her?’ His eyes twinkled.

      ‘I don’t think so.’ Amy shook her head. Christopher Columbus was a famous explorer but her brother wasn’t named after him either. Names were your parents’ fault.

      When she turned twenty-one, Amy might change her name. You could pay money and choose a new name. Aunty Viv said it cost about fifty dollars. It just depended how she felt about being Amy then. Perhaps she might become Stormy Night or Sherlock-ina or something more interesting. At school, there was a girl called Sahara. Having a desert named after you was ace.

      ‘Dr Al, my name’s Stan, ‘ interrupted the man with the yellow and orange striped leggings. Stan was pushy. Immediately you knew he was going to say something about his own name. And he did.

      ‘Stanley was a famous explorer in Africa,’ said Stan, tugging at Dr Al’s arm.

      ‘True,’ said Dr Al. For a famous person, he listened a lot. But unless you walked away from Stan, you had to listen.

      Dr Al stood listening politely to Stan rave on about himself, himself and himself until Zoe rescued him. She was checking on people’s packs and personalities. Guides were paid to be friends, even to bores like Stan.

      ‘Warm gear which dries quickly is good.’ Zoe changed the subject.

      ‘Cotton T-shirts get wet and you get cold. Wool dries quickly.’

      ‘I’ve got cotton T shirts too,’ said Stan eagerly. ‘As well as my yellow leggings.’

      ‘What a dork!’ thought Amy.

      Stan stroked his chin which needed a shave. ‘Designer stubble will keep me warm too. Whiskers don’t weigh much.’ Stan looked at Amy expecting her to laugh. Amy realised Stan thought he’d made a joke.

      Then, as Stan counted his money into his bum bag, he dropped his passport. The pages fluttered open.

      Christopher picked it up.’ Here you are,’ The pages had opened at the photograph.

      As usual, Christopher glanced at the picture. Then he took another look. It was not Stan’s photo in the passport! The face was much rounder and had a thick beard and glasses.

      ‘Thanks.’ Quickly Stan zipped the passport into his bum bag.

      ‘That was yours, wasn’t it?’ asked Christopher quickly.

      ‘Of course,’ Stan gave him a strange look. ‘Luckily we won’t need papers for the next four days. Or money. Away from everything.’

      Was he pretending to be someone else?

      Christopher decided to watch Stan very closely.

      And who was the Loser who had owned the map with the crosses?

      As they walked, Amy was determined to check out those spots.

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