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Authors: Nick Sharratt

BOOK: Secrets
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‘I wish I looked like Anne,' said India, stroking the photo. ‘Hasn't she got the most beautiful eyes ever? She looks so intelligent, don't you think?'

‘Yeah, but I don't like her hair much. Why did she have to curl it like that? I think she'd look much better with straight hair, and longer, past her shoulders. I wish I had long hair. You're lucky, India.' I pulled one of her fuzzy plaits.

‘I
hate
my hair. I'd much sooner have soft floppy hair like yours. I love the way your fringe goes. It looks cute.'

She patted it – and I winced automatically.

‘Oh, God, I'm sorry! Is your cut still sore?'

‘No, not really, not a bit.'

India gently parted my fringe and looked at the scar.

‘How could he, Treasure?' she whispered.

‘You should see what he's done to my mum. He broke her jaw, he knocked out two teeth, he punched her in the stomach when she was expecting little Gary—'

‘Then why on earth does she
stay
with him?' India asked, looking astonished.

‘Well . . . she loves him.'

‘You can't love someone who
punches
you.'

‘Yes you can, if you're stupid, like my mum. He goes all smarmy afterwards and he cries and swears it will never happen again. She's mad enough to believe it.'

‘I still don't get it,' said India, shaking her head. ‘No-one could believe him.'

India gets it now! This afternoon she came back with a PORTABLE TELEVISION!

‘Well, it seemed like a good idea. Wanda's out and Dad's asleep and Mum's gone to her workshop so no-one will ever know,' said India, out of breath from lugging it up the stairs.

‘You'll be carrying your entire
bedroom
up here soon,' I said. ‘Still, what a great idea!'

India switched it on and fiddled about until she got a programme.

‘Ah, the news,' I said. ‘Wonder if I'm on it, eh?'

I was joking – but I WAS!

There was a piece about a politician, then something about the countryside, all the usual boring stuff, but then suddenly there was a photo of
me
right above the newsreader's head.

‘It's me, India, look!'

‘That's not you!' said India, though they were reading my name out right that minute.

She didn't recognize me because it was an ages-old photo, from nearly two years ago when I was a little
kid.
We were on holiday at the seaside, Mum and me, and although I'm little I look bigger in the photo, all bouncy and smiley with my hair scooped up in silly little bunches. And there with his hand on my shoulder, giving me a hug, is Terry the Torturer. The horrible thing is, I'm looking up at him with this stupid grin on my face. We'd just met up with him and his kids and he was making this big fuss of my mum and me, taking us on all the rides at the funfair and treating us to pizzas and fish and chips and ice-cream. Every time he bought Kyle and Bethany any game or T-shirt or baseball cap he bought me one too. I fell for him just as heavily as Mum, even though I'm meant to be the bright one.

I
hate
that photo. The newsreader said that I'd been missing twenty-four hours. There's been a big police search but so far no-one has spotted me – though there are unconfirmed reports of my going off with some
man
.

‘I wouldn't go off with any man! Are they nuts?' I said.

‘It's just like when Anne and her family went into hiding. There were all these rumours that they'd gone here, there and everywhere. People swore they'd seen them.'

‘Sh! Look! Oh God!'

They were showing Nan's flat – but she was edged right into a corner. You could just see a strand of her fair hair and a bit of her shoulder as she sat on the arm of the sofa. My mum was right in the middle, holding
baby
Gary, with Terry beside her, his arm round them both. Mum was crying.
Terry
was crying too, his green eyes spilling tears.

‘We're so worried about our Treasure,' he said, straight to camera. His voice was husky with emotion. ‘Please come home, darling – if you can.'

Mum burst into fresh floods and Terry pulled her closer, all tender concern.

I wanted to
vomit
.

Fourteen

India

I CAN'T BELIEVE
that awful scary Terry could seem so heartbroken. He is brilliant at acting. It was so strange seeing Treasure's family on television. They interviewed a senior police officer who said they were becoming increasingly concerned for Treasure's safety. He urged the public to come forward if they had seen her. But no-one at all can see her – except me!

It's so extraordinary. All the police are out searching for her when all the time Treasure's safe and sound in my secret attic.

Well, she's
safe
. I'm not sure about sound. She isn't very well today. She's worrying about her nan so she's all tense and that makes her chest tight and she gets asthma. When it's bad she wheezes in-between words
as
if she's a little old lady. She needs her inhaler but she's lost her bag. There's a spare inhaler at her nan's though.

‘Can't you go and see her after school, India?' Treasure begged. ‘You could get her on her own and whisper where I am. She won't tell. You can trust my nan. And then she can slip you my spare inhaler.'

‘But what if Terry and your mum are still there? If they see me again they might start to get really suspicious. It's too risky.'

Treasure sighed wheezily. She sat all hunched up, her fists clenched as she fought for breath.

‘Try to relax, Treasure. Straighten your shoulders and take deep breaths.'

‘I –
can't
– breathe – you – nut,' she gasped.

I massaged her shoulders and back, talking to her all the time, telling her to breathe
in
and
out, in
and
out
—

‘Shut – up – you – berk,' said Treasure.

But it was helping! She was soon breathing almost normally.

‘How did you know what to do?'

‘I think maybe I saw some stuff on
Casualty
,' I admitted.

‘Do you want to be a nurse then?'

‘Well, I want to be a writer, like Anne. But I wouldn't mind being a doctor. No, a surgeon, I'd like that, cutting people open and doing complicated operations. I'm not a bit squeamish.'

‘Just as well when you have to empty my horrible bin,' said Treasure, shuddering.

‘I don't mind,' I said.

Well, it is pretty revolting actually, but I can manage. Wanda saw me coming out of the bathroom carrying the emptied bin and stared in astonishment.

‘Why have you got the bin and a
saucepan
lid?' she said.

‘It's . . . personal,' I said.

Wanda looked a little embarrassed.

‘Oh! I see,' she said, and disappeared into the bathroom herself.

I heard her being sick. I hoped she hadn't got some bug. I didn't want Treasure to get it. I told her when I nipped up the attic steps. Treasure looked at me as if I was stupid.

‘She could have a tummy bug,
or
she could be going to have a baby,' she said.

It was like an alarm bell going off inside my brain. I couldn't bear it. Treasure thought I was shaking my head because I didn't believe her.

‘I don't know, of course. It's just my mum threw up a lot when she was pregnant with Gary. India?' Treasure knelt down beside me.

‘She's been acting all worried for weeks. She hasn't been eating properly either. I think she
is
pregnant.'

‘But why are you getting so het up about it?'

‘I think it's my dad's baby!'

Treasure blinked at me. ‘Oh! I
see
.'

‘It's awful. He doesn't even like her much. He wants to get rid of her. But maybe now she's having his baby
he'll
change his mind? Maybe he'll go off with Wanda?'

‘I don't think he'll leave all this,' said Treasure, looking around to indicate our house. ‘Not unless Wanda is really, really gorgeous.'

‘She isn't,' I said sadly. I thought about my dad, my mum, Treasure's mum, Terry . . .

‘I hate grown ups,' I said bitterly. ‘You can't trust any of them.'

‘They're not all like that,' said Treasure. ‘You can trust my nan.'

She wheezed again.

‘Breathe, Treasure. Don't tighten up,' I said quickly. ‘Look, I'll phone her. How about that?'

‘Can't I phone her?' Treasure said eagerly.

‘Well, I could try and sneak you Mum or Dad's mobile. I'll do my best when I get back from school, OK?'

‘Don't go,' Treasure said, gripping my arm. ‘Stay here with me, India, please.'

‘I'd give anything to stay, you know I would, but I
can't
. Wanda drives me to school. I'll have to whizz off in a minute. Well, kind of
now
.' I tried very gently to unhook Treasure's hands.

‘It's so lonely up here,' she said. ‘Can't I come out during the day?'

‘It's a bit risky, Treasure.'

‘But your mum and dad will be out at work.'

‘Wanda will be here though. She does go out sometimes, shopping, or to a yoga class, but you'll never be
able
to guess when she'll be back. No, stay up here. I wish
I
could. You've got all the books and my drawing stuff – and you've got your lunch all waiting.'

I'd tried really hard with Treasure's lunch, making her cheese salad sandwiches and tuna and sweetcorn rolls with carrot sticks and tomatoes and a cherry yoghurt and a flapjack and an apple and a bottle of orange juice. I heard Mum's high-heeled boots tapping down the stairs so I shoved the lot into my schoolbag in the nick of time. Mum looked at me suspiciously, asking why I'd gone pink. She tutted when she saw the bag of brown rolls was open.

‘Have you been at those baps, India? How many have you eaten? You
know
you're only supposed to have muesli and fruit for breakfast. It's for your own good.' She went on at me, nag, nag, niggle, niggle, while she brewed her black coffee and nibbled a single slice of melon.

I was happy to let her think I was this great greedy pig but I wished Treasure might act a
little
pleased. She hadn't eaten her breakfast either, not one bite, though I'd tried hard to vary it, toast and honey, melon cocktail, a banana and a carton of milk.

‘Eat your breakfast, Treasure,' I said. ‘I've
got
to go now. I'll try hard to see your nan after school, I promise, and I'll come rushing back home as quick as quick after that. The day will just flash by, you'll see.'

Treasure nodded, but she was nibbling her lip anxiously. I gave her a quick hug. I didn't like leaving her, but what else could I do?

It was so strange to run downstairs and start off for school as if nothing had happened. I felt awkward with Wanda. I kept giving her tummy little glances as she drove me to school, imagining a tiny tadpole baby swimming about inside her. I wanted to know if it was really true but I went hot at the thought of asking her.

‘You're very quiet,' said Wanda, as she drew up outside school.

‘Yes, well, I've got things on my mind,' I said.

‘Me too,' said Wanda significantly. ‘Anyway, I'll pick you up usual time this afternoon. Don't worry, I won't be late.'

‘No! We've got our arrangement, don't you remember? I'm coming home by myself.'

‘I've changed my mind, India. It's not safe. That kid's still missing from the Latimer Estate. They think some man's abducted her.'

‘That's rubbish,' I said. ‘I bet she's just run away.'

‘Whatever,' said Wanda. ‘I'm still coming to pick you up.'

‘No, you're not,' I said. ‘I'm going to my friend Tiffany's house. And then her mum will drive me home. It's all arranged.'

‘Does your mother know?'

‘No. I don't want to tell her. You know what she's like.'

‘Yes,' said Wanda. ‘But I still think—'

‘Wanda, I've got to go, I'm
late
.'

I was out of the car and running into school before she could continue.

It was a trying day at school. Maria and Alice had some new joke together, nudging each other and giggling whenever they looked in my direction. I kept dropping the wretched ball in PE. The whole class groaned and went, ‘Surprise, surprise' when I came top in the Maths test. It was pizza for lunch but my slice was very small and burnt underneath.

I didn't really care about any of this. School suddenly seemed such a stupid trivial place. I hurtled across the playground the second the bell went for home-time just in case Wanda was thinking of collecting me after all. I was way down the road while the others had scarcely started straggling across the playground.

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