Secrets (18 page)

There was a phone in the kitchen. I dialled 141 so the call couldn't be traced and then punched in Nan's
number.
It was answered at the first ring. It wasn't Nan.

It was Terry!

‘Hello?' he said into my ear. ‘Hello, hello? Who's that? Look if it's one of you journalists playing silly beggars I've
told
you, we've got an exclusive with another paper.'

There was another voice telling Terry to hand the phone over – maybe a policeman? Than I heard Nan!

‘Shut up! It could be Treasure. Let me speak to her! Treasure? Is it you, darling? Are you all right? Where
are
you?'

‘I'm hiding, Nan!' I whispered, and then I put the phone down quick in case someone else snatched it.

My throat was dry. I poured myself a glass of water. My hands were so shaky I spilt half of it down my front. I wandered round the huge kitchen seeing little bug-eyed Treasures in every shiny surface. What would Nan think of a kitchen like this! The fridge had all sorts of fancy food but I didn't dare help myself. The larder was easier. I had a handful of raisins, a licked finger of sugar, and then I got started on a packet of cornflakes. They made me cough. Then I started wheezing. I put my hands on my tight chest and told myself to take it e-a-s-y – but then I saw a dark shape through the mottled glass of the kitchen door, and the sound of a key in the lock!

I ran like the wind, out of the kitchen, up the two flights of stairs, up the attic ladder and through the trapdoor. I lay on the floor of the attic, gasping. Blood
drummed
in my head. It was so loud I couldn't hear properly. Oh God, there were footsteps! Coming along the landing, getting nearer and nearer.

‘Come out!' someone called. An oldish voice. ‘I heard you! I'll call the police!'

I lay there, my hand over my mouth. I heard the ladder creaking. They were coming up after me!

I reached out and found the light switch. I flicked it off quickly and lay still in the dark. I hate not being able to see but it meant
they
wouldn't be able to see me if they stuck their head through the trapdoor.

It was opening! I clamped my lips together, in agony.

‘Are you in there? It's not you, is it, India?'

I waited for her to work out where the light switch was.

‘India?' she said again, but with less conviction. She sighed – and then went back down the ladder, pausing to put the trapdoor back in place. I heard her down on the landing, muttering to herself.

I waited until I heard distant hoovering. I sat up, wheezing, and switched the light back on. I kept telling myself that it was OK, she hadn't found me. But I couldn't stop feeling scared.

I'm still scared. If only India would come back! I need my inhaler. I can't breathe. It's getting worse.

Footsteps. India? But what if it's the cleaning lady? I'd better switch the light off quick.

* * *

I tried to switch the light back on but the light bulb's broken! I'm in the dark. I'm so scared. I'm trying to write this but I can't see what I'm doing.

The footsteps went away ages ago. Where's India? It must be so late now. Maybe it's night-time already?

I want Nan. Did she hear me? Does she know I'm all right? But I'm not all right. I'm getting so scared. I can't breathe.
Ican'tbreatheIcan'tbreatheIcan'tbreathe
.

Sixteen

India

DEAR KITTY

I bet I've kept you on tenterhooks!

I screamed as Treasure fell apart in my arms.

‘Treasure!'

‘I'm here – I – can't – breathe!'

I felt my way towards her. I'd been holding the clothes doll she'd made for company! The real Treasure was huddled up in a corner of the black attic. She clutched hold of me.

‘Have – you – got – my—'

‘Your inhaler? No, I
tried
. I've been everywhere. But it's OK, Treasure, I'll help you breathe.'

Treasure sucked in a breath and then said something very rude. I didn't think she was being fair. I'd
tried
so hard. But I held her and straightened her shoulders in the dark and after a bit she stopped wheezing so much. She started telling me about going downstairs and nearly being caught by Mrs Winslow – I
told
her not to come out the attic! – and the light bulb going and how she panicked in the dark and then passed out. I felt she might just have gone to sleep but I didn't like to contradict her.

I gave her the bag of presents and told her to feel each one and see if she could tell what it is while I nipped downstairs and tried to find a new light bulb. She didn't want me to go and leave her alone in the dark again.

‘I'll just be a minute, I promise,' I said – but I got waylaid.

Wanda was in her bedroom, so I helped myself to all sorts of stuff in the kitchen, including a 100 watt light bulb. I shoved everything on a tray and started carrying it upstairs. But Dad suddenly came bursting through the front door, home from work a good hour early.

‘How's my little girl then?' he called up the stairs after me. He sounded friendly for once but there was something odd about his voice. It was thicker, as if he was getting a cold.

‘Hi, Dad,' I said, and carried on up the stairs.

‘Hey, hey! Come and give your old dad a kiss then!'

I tried blowing him one, balancing the tray against my chest.

‘I want a proper hello hug!' Dad insisted, bounding
up
the stairs after me. He tripped and went, ‘Whoopsie,' sounding foolish.

He wasn't getting a cold. He was drunk. It was obvious when he caught me up. He smelt awful and his eyes were bleary and bloodshot. What was he
doing
, drinking at work?

I gave his cheek a hasty kiss and tried to edge round him.

‘Come here, India. You love your old dad no matter what, don't you, darling?'

‘Yes Dad,' I said – though I'm not sure I do now.

He tried to hug me and the tray tipped.

‘Careful, Dad, please.'

‘What's all this then?' said Dad, stirring all the food with his forefinger. He wagged it at me.

‘Naughty, naughty! I thought your sainted stick-thin mother had put you on a diet?'

‘It's just a little snack for when I'm doing my homework.'

‘Won't the light bulb taste a bit crunchy?' said Dad, roaring with laughter at his own feeble joke.

‘Oh ha ha, Dad. Please. Let me go and get on with my homework,' I said.

Dad tagged after me all the way to my room.

‘Dad! Look, you can't come in here, it's private,' I said desperately.

‘I've got to fix your light bulb, darling. Can't have my little sweetheart electrocuting herself.' Dad switched on my bedroom light and stared stupidly at the three glowing bulbs. He tried to snap his fingers.
‘Abracadabra!
Fixed already!'

‘No, Dad, the light bulb's for – for school. I've got to take it for Science tomorrow.'

Thank goodness that diverted him.

‘That bloody school. They charge a small fortune – no, no, a
huge
fortune – in fees, and now they want your old dad to fork out for light bulbs!' He started a long rant about my school and how he didn't have any money at
all
. He even got out his wallet and flapped it in my face to show me it was empty.

He was getting really angry. It was as if my real dad had been abducted by aliens and they'd sent this mad mean replicant dad in his place.

‘Dad, you're
scaring
me.'

He blinked at me. His face screwed up. ‘No,
I'm
the one who's scared,' he said. ‘I'm in such a mess.'

‘Oh, Dad. It's Wanda, isn't it?' I whispered.

‘Wanda?' said Dad. ‘What's Wanda got to do with it? What's she been saying to you?'

‘Nothing! Don't talk about her like that, Dad, please.'

‘I'll talk about her how I want,' said Dad, his voice thickening. ‘It's my house, isn't it?' He missed a beat. ‘Well, no, tell a lie, it's not my house at all. It's your mother's house, it's
her
name on the mortgage. How about that to make a man feel small? Still, just as well, I suppose, given the circumstances.'

I didn't know what he was talking about. His voice tailed off as he lost his thread. He shook his head and then belched.

‘You're drunk, Dad.'

‘Good! Well, I intend to get drunker,' he said. He turned on his heel and lurched down the landing.

I listened to him going downstairs, wondering if he'd miss his footing and fall headlong. I wanted him to.

I don't know how much Wanda heard. She came scurrying along to my room right away.

‘What's your dad doing home from work so early?'

I shrugged. ‘Don't ask me. He shouldn't have been driving home. He's drunk.'

‘Oh dear.' Wanda looked stricken. ‘I'd better go to him.'

‘I'd leave him alone if I were you. He's in a foul mood,' I said.

Wanda took no notice. She went downstairs – and I risked rushing
up
the steps to the attic, balancing the tray. Treasure was in a state again, but when I'd got the new light bulb screwed in – jolly difficult in the pitch dark – she calmed down. She had a long drink of orange juice and then started picking at one of my special sandwiches, banana, cream cheese and honey. She poked the bits of banana out and licked the honey.

‘Eat it properly, Treasure!' I said.

I munched my own sandwich with appropriate appreciation. I ended up eating most of Treasure's too.

‘Why were you so
long
, India?'

‘My dad got hold of me. He's drunk. He's so
disgusting
.'

‘You mean he's been down the pub?'

‘I don't know. He has these secret bottles of whisky. He keeps one in his desk here. Maybe he's got one in his desk at work too. I hate the smell of him when he's been drinking whisky.'

‘I hate the smell too. And the way it makes them so mean. Terry would always go for me when he'd had a few whiskies,' said Treasure, rubbing her forehead.

‘He hit you other times?'

‘Lots! One time he thought I was sneering at him for something and he got his hand round my throat and I thought he was going to kill me. He said it was just a joke to teach me a lesson but he left bruise marks all round my neck and Mum had to keep me off school. He bought me a stupid big bear with wobbly eyes and a little heart saying “
MAKE FRIENDS
” after. He tried to get round me, pretending to
be
the bear, talking in this stupid growly voice. I just sat stone-faced and Mum said I was a hard-hearted little cow and couldn't I see Terry was doing his best to make it up to me.'

‘That's so mean of your mum!'

‘She's like that. She can't seem to help it. She'd forgive him anything just because he's her bloke. He could cut my throat and she'd go, “Oh, Treasure, don't bleed to death, you mean cow, now you'll get Terry into trouble with the cops.” Hey, wouldn't it be incredible if the cops thought Terry had done away with me now! We could phone up anonymously and say we're sure Treasure Mitchell's dead and it's all down to her dodgy stepdad, last seen chasing her down an alleyway in Latimer!' Treasure was chortling
with
laughter in spite of her wheezy chest. Then she saw my face.

‘What is it? He
hasn't
been arrested, has he?'

‘He hasn't – but Michael has.'

‘Michael? What do you mean? Which Michael?'

‘The funny one with the mum, next door to your Nan.'

‘Old Mumbly Michael! Goodness, what's he done? He wouldn't hurt a fly.'

‘They think he's hurt you.'

‘
What?
Are they nuts? Why
Michael
? He helped me hide from Terry. Oh God. Maybe someone saw me with Michael? Oh, India, what are we going to do? His mum will be going spare. Michael won't even understand. This is so awful!'

‘I know – but I'm sure they'll let him go after they've questioned him.'

‘What if they don't?' Treasure took hold of my arm. ‘Do you think I ought to give myself up?'

‘No! No, you mustn't, of course you mustn't.'

‘Why did it all have to go so wrong? I was so happy at Nan's,' Treasure wailed.

I couldn't help feeling wounded. Why couldn't she be happy
here
? I'd tried so hard to make her welcome and comfort her and give her treats. I didn't say a word but Treasure saw my face.

‘I'm sorry, India,' she said. ‘You've been so lovely to me. I'm ever so grateful, honestly. It's just that I wish I could go
home
. I can't ever be safe with Nan while Terry's around. He's going to get me eventually, I just
know
he is and I don't know what to
do
!' Treasure punched the floorboards violently.