The Little Secret (2 page)

Jane said, “Wait — we can't just walk out. We have to take the dirty plates back to the kitchen.”

Staffa was surprised. “Really? Don't the servants clear the tables?”

Unfortunately, everyone else around the table heard this.

One of the boys — a very nasty boy named Damian Budge — shouted, “Where d'you think you are — Hogwarts?”

Staffa's pale, chilly blue eyes were serious. “You must be patient with me. I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh, I'm such a posh cow!” squeaked Damian.

Jane said, “Leave her alone.”

“Why d'you care? Are you her boyfriend, or something?”

“It's not her fault she's different,” Jane said, scowling at him. “Leave her alone, Budge. She's not doing you any harm.”

She stood up, took the plates back to the kitchen and almost dragged Staffa out to the playground.

“Thanks for defending me,” Staffa said.

“That's okay. But maybe you should try to be a bit less — I mean, not so…” Jane was struggling for the right words.

Staffa smiled. “It's the way I speak, isn't it? Don't worry, I won't be offended. I can see how kind you are, Jane.” Her peaky, china-doll face radiated happiness. “I think you're exactly the friend I've been looking for!”

For the rest of that day, Staffa did not take her eyes off Jane. It is very uncomfortable to be stared at by a person who is right beside you. Every time Jane looked up, there were Staffa's pale eyes, inches from her own. She gave Jane secret smiles, as if the two of them were suddenly the best friends in the world. But Jane was not sure she wanted to be Staffa's best friend. The smiling and the staring were creepy, and she was relieved when it was time to go home.

Jane found her brothers in the crowd around the big gate, cheerfully hitting each other with their backpacks. Mike and Phil were identical twins of eight years old, always easy to spot because of their mops of shaggy white-blond hair.

“Come on,” she said. “Let's get out of here.” She almost ran through the gate.

“Slow down!” shouted Phil.

Out in the street, Mike tugged at Jane's sleeve. “Why's SHE coming with us?”

Jane turned around, and there was Staffa, right behind her. She suddenly looked particularly small — hardly bigger than the twins — and rather scarily delicate. Jane stopped being annoyed. She couldn't shout at someone who looked as if she could be blown away like a leaf.

She took a deep breath. “Look, Staffa, you've driven me mad all day, and now you're stalking me. Why?”

“I thought I'd walk home with you,” Staffa said.

“Don't you have a home of your own?”

“It's a long way away.” For a moment, Staffa looked sad. “My mother and I are staying in King's Lumpton.” This was the larger town nearby, where there were shops and a weekly market. “Mother won't be back yet. And it's dull to go back to an empty house.”

Jane felt sorry for her. “D'you want to come over to my house, then?”

Staffa smiled. “I'd love to.”

THE BOY GARDEN

Staffa and Jane walked in silence. Staffa was still smiling. Jane was uncomfortable. She had blurted out the invitation before she had time to think about it, and she wished there had been time to prepare her family. The house was such a dump. A posh, tidy sort of girl like Staffa would probably be horrified.

“I should warn you,” she said, “it's a bit of a mess.”

“My dear Jane,” Staffa said. “I'm sure I shall find your home perfectly delightful.”

They fell back into silence. Mike and Phil ran ahead, kicking their backpacks like dusty soccer balls.

Jane's family lived in a shabby house, surrounded by shabby fields, at the very edge of the village. You reached it by walking along a lane where there were no houses. As they turned down this lane, Staffa became chatty.

“I'm really very sorry about mistaking you for a boy.” She linked arms with Jane. “But why do your parents make you wear boys' clothes?”

“Because I've got six brothers,” Jane said.

“Six!” Staffa was intensely interested.

“I'm the only girl. There isn't any money for girls' clothes. I have to wear the boys' hand-me-downs.”

“Poor you,” Staffa said. “That's not fair. If you were the only boy in a family of girls, they wouldn't send you to school in a dress.”

This was a good point, and it made Jane laugh. “What about you?” she asked, liking Staffa more. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“One brother,” Staffa said.

“Older or younger?”

“Much older.” Staffa didn't seem to want to talk about him, but Jane was too curious to stop.

“Is he traveling with you?”

“No. He had to go on army exercises.”

“So he's a soldier?”

“No, he's a student. But never mind about him — he's boring.” Staffa smiled. “I want to hear about every single one of your brothers. Will I meet them all today?”

“You won't meet Martin,” Jane said. “He's the oldest. He's nineteen, and away at college. It's great when he's at home, because he's got a car. Does your brother have a car?”

“Yes, of course.” Staffa was starting to sound a little cross. “Go on — tell me about the others.”

Jane said, “After Martin there's Dan, who's seventeen. He's in high school. And then there's Jon, who's fifteen. My clothes mostly come down from Jon. They always have patches on the knees.”

Staffa asked, “Where do they go to school?”

“They're at the high school in King's Lumpton. That's where I'm going in September.” Jane glanced doubtfully at Staffa — so small and strange, so unfitted for life at a large secondary school. “I suppose you'll be going there too.”

Staffa shook her head. “Mother and I will be gone by then.”

“Oh.” Jane couldn't quite bring herself to say it was a pity. She went on quickly, “Anyway, after Jon there's me, and after me there's the twins. And last of all there's little Ted. He's only one and a half.”

Staffa half closed her eyes, and murmured, “Martin, Dan, Jon, You, Mike and Phil, little Ted.”

“Yes, well done. It takes most people ages to sort us out.”

“And do any of them have red hair, like yours?”

“Not like mine.” Jane's long hair (which she hated, though her mother thought it beautiful) was a deep, dark red. “The others are brown or blond. Little Ted's is sort of orange, like a marmalade-colored cat.”

“Oh, Jane, I was so lucky to find you!” Staffa sighed. “I've never had a best friend before.”

“Hang on!” This was going too fast. Jane wasn't even sure she liked Staffa. “We can't be best friends yet — it takes time.”

“You obviously need a female friend,” Staffa said. “Those two silly girls in your class can't possibly satisfy a mind like yours.”

They reached the front gate of Jane's house. “Well, here it is,” she said. “Welcome to Pike Lane Farm. It's not really a farm — we only have the yard and the paddock. My mom calls it the Boy Garden. She says it's like a bear garden, only noisier.”

“What's a bear garden?”

“I don't really know. I think it's just any place that's full of wild beasts.”

Staffa chuckled. Her pointed little face sharpened with interest. She looked at the shabby house. She looked at the front yard, which was full of bikes and homemade wooden ramps. She looked at the old, serious horse who stood by the paddock fence.

“The horse is called Leonard,” Jane said. “Even the animals here are boys.”

The front door was open. The jerseys and backpacks of the twins lay in a heap on the doormat. Jane kicked the heap aside and led Staffa to the kitchen. As usual, the place was a cheerful mess.

Jane's mother was sitting at the kitchen table, feeding little Ted. Jane tried to imagine how they might look to someone posh. Mom's tracksuit was old and baggy. Her hair was tied back with a pair of tights. Little Ted's sweet, pudgy face was covered with stripes of purple marker. He shouted when he saw Jane, and banged his wooden hammer on the tray of his high chair.

Jane laughed. She kissed the top of his head. His marmalade-colored hair was blobbed with tomato sauce. “What've you done to your face, Mr. Silly?”

“He somehow got hold of a purple pen,” Jane's mom said. “I turned my back for one moment, and the next thing I knew he was covered with it. It won't wash off, so we'd better get used to it.”

Jane looked back at Staffa, wondering if she was shocked by this sordid scene. Staffa was certainly surprised, but she was also smiling. For the first time that day, she looked like a real child. Jane saw that she loved the Boy Garden, and had another moment of liking her.

“Mom,” she said, “this is Staffa. She's come to play, if that's okay.”

Mom smiled. “'Course it's okay — you know I'm always glad to see another girl. Hi, Staffa.”

“How do you do, Mrs. Hughes,” said Staffa. “It's very nice to meet you.”

“Janey, get some toast and chocolate cookies, just for yourself and Staffa. I'll feed the rabble when little Ted's finished.”

Staffa ate her toast next to little Ted. She watched him with fascination. He smacked her face with his fat wet hand, but she only laughed. Little Ted kindly offered her his soggy crusts, and she pretended to eat them. Every now and then, she said shyly to Mom, “He's so sweet!”

The peace did not last for long. Mike and Phil ran into the kitchen, shouting for juice and cookies. The front door slammed. Dan and Jon came in from their school. They were both taller than Mom, with deep voices you could feel in the floor. The room was suddenly bursting with people. Jane was worried that Staffa would feel overwhelmed, but she was still smiling. She was not at all shy with the big boys, and she jumped up eagerly when Dan suggested they should go out into the backyard.

The sunny afternoon was beginning to fade. There was a pleasant breeze. Mike and Phil practiced skateboarding on the long concrete path. Dan and Jon raced up and down the homemade ramps on their bikes. Jane offered to lend Staffa Phil's bike, not really thinking she would accept — but Staffa surprised her by flinging herself at it and charging up the ramps like a red velvet whirlwind. Jane leapt on her own bike (outgrown by Jon) and charged after her.

They had a great time racing girls against boys. Staffa was no longer shy, and not at all delicate. She yelled orders, she threw clumps of dirt at the boys, she invented daring and dangerous challenges. Dan and Jon thought Staffa was hilarious. The two teams battled for possession of the garden hose. The boys won, and sprayed Staffa and Jane with cold water.

By the end of the afternoon, Jane had laughed and screamed so much that her stomach muscles ached. She was soaked with water and streaked with dirt. One of Staffa's velvet sleeves was torn. They lay down on the rough grass, gasping for breath. The sun was lower down in the sky now. Little Ted, playing in his sandbox by the back door, cast a long, spidery shadow.

Staffa sighed. “It's getting late. I'd better go home.”

They sat up, giggling again at the state of their clothes.

Jane asked, “How will you get there? My dad's got the car, so we can't give you a lift, and there aren't any buses.”

“Don't worry, I'll call our driver.”

“Your what?”

Staffa stood up, brushing dirt from her dress. “Our driver. He waits for me after school.”

Once again, she was cool and solemn. She fetched her satchel. She thanked Mom for a lovely afternoon. She kissed little Ted — adding sand to the dirt on her dress. From her satchel she took a flashy cellphone. She pressed a single button and made one short call.

Jane walked with her down the long lane. They were dreamily silent for a minute, until Staffa said, “Jane, I haven't had so much fun in years.”

“You sound like my grandma.”

“Seriously, it's been a wonderful afternoon. The whole day has been wonderful.”

A huge, shining black car had stopped at the end of the lane. It was the kind of car that the Queen rides in when she doesn't want anyone to see her. The back windows were dark. A driver sat very still in the front seat. He (or she) wore a peaked cap, pulled very low. In spite of the warm weather, he (or she) was muffled in miles and miles of black scarf.

Staffa squeezed Jane's hand. “I don't need to look for a best friend anymore. I've found you.”