Secrets Read online

  I ran nearly the whole way to the Latimer Estate, rehearsing what I was going to say to Treasure’s nan. But I didn’t get the chance.

  There were two big television vans parked in the courtyard of Elm block and over by the dustbin shelter there was a crowd clustered in front of the television camera. Kids were running towards it, desperate to be on television too. I grabbed one little boy by his bony elbow.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Leave off! It’s the telly, innit. They’ve got the bloke.’

  ‘Which bloke?’

  ‘The one that murdered the girl, Treasure.’

  ‘She’s not murdered!’

  ‘Well, they haven’t found her body yet, but my mum says it’s only a matter of time. She says they should torture him until he says what he’s done with her.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘That nutter Michael Watkins. He’s the one that did it.’

  ‘Michael Watkins?’

  ‘You are thick. He lives next door to Treasure and her gran, Rita, and all that crowd.’

  Mumbly Michael!

  ‘He hasn’t done anything to Treasure!’

  ‘Yes, he has. The coppers came and arrested him. They did a search of his mum’s flat and all. There’s no trace of Treasure – yet. My mum reckons they should search the dustbins. She’ll be found soon, you wait.’

  He jerked his elbow free and ran towards the television crew. I ran after him, though my legs were so wobbly I nearly fell down.

  They couldn’t have arrested poor Mumbly Michael.

  They could.

  A journalist was talking solemnly straight to camera.

  ‘We understand that the police are still questioning this man, who is believed to be the next-door neighbour of Treasure Mitchell’s grandmother. There’s still no sign of the little girl herself but her family haven’t given up hope.’

  I wondered if this family were still staying with Nan in her flat. I skirted the crowd and dodged up the stairs, but when I got to the right landing I saw there were two police officers outside Nan’s flat, and two more outside Mumbly Michael’s.

  I felt so frightened I just bobbed back down the stairs, rushing too quickly in the dark. I missed my footing and went hurtling down four or five steps at once, landing with a terrible thump on my hands and knees, my schoolbag giving me another bash in the back for good measure. I knelt there, whispering all the swear words I know to try to stop myself crying. Then I picked myself up and limped down the rest of the stairs.

  The television crew was still filming, the camera panning the crowd. I kept my head well down and backed away. I ran until I was out of the Latimer Estate altogether, and then I hobbled along to the parade of shops. I went to the chemist’s. I had ten pounds in my school purse. I hoped it would be enough. I smiled at the lady behind the counter.

  ‘Can I have one of those asthma inhaler things, please?’

  ‘Have you got your prescription, dear?’

  Oh-oh.

  ‘No, I’ve been very stupid. I’ve lost it. Couldn’t you just give me the inhaler? I can pay, I’ve got my money.’

  ‘No dear, you have to have the prescription. You’ll have to go back to your doctor.’

  ‘I can’t. I haven’t got an appointment. I need the inhaler now. I’m going off to stay at a friend’s, you see, and I’m starting to go all wheezy.’

  I started to imitate Treasure having an attack. It was quite easy because I was still out of breath from all the running.

  ‘I’m sorry, we’re not allowed to sell any asthma products over the counter without a prescription,’ she said.

  ‘Look, can’t you give the inhaler to me now, and I’ll use it and calm down and go and see the doctor and get another prescription and bring it straight back to you, I promise.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid that’s just not possible.’ She was staring at me, starting to get suspicious. ‘Are you on your own? Is your mother outside in the car?’

  ‘Oh, never mind,’ I said, giving up and running out of the shop. I hoped the television and newspapers hadn’t said anything about Treasure being asthmatic. I decided to trail all the way into town to see if I could buy anything for asthma at the big Boots in the shopping centre. I thought I’d seem much less conspicuous in a crowded shop. I just hoped they had a different policy.

  They didn’t. They wouldn’t sell me an inhaler. They went through the whole we-need-a-prescription rigmarole. So I gave up and spent the ten pounds on treats for Treasure instead: blue sparkly nail varnish and cherry-flavoured lip gloss and butterfly slides and some chocolate – and I bought room freshener too and more tissues.

  It was getting horribly late now. I knew Treasure would be wondering where on earth I’d got to. I ran some of the way home but I was tired out and my knees were hurting badly so I wasn’t very fast.

  I wanted to rush straight up to Treasure but Wanda was waiting in the hall.

  ‘This isn’t good enough, India! Why didn’t you ring me from Tiffany’s house? I’ve been so worried.’

  ‘There’s no need to worry, Wanda.’

  Wanda was still looking at me strangely. ‘There’s something going on, India. You’re acting very oddly all of a sudden.’ She paused. ‘You didn’t slip back here at lunchtime, did you?’

  I felt my heart thump. I tried not to look anxious. ‘No. Why?’

  ‘Mrs Winslow seemed sure someone had been in the kitchen.’

  ‘Oh?’ I said, as if I wasn’t that interested. ‘Anyway, Wanda, I’d better go and get started on my homework, I’ve got heaps.’

  I raced upstairs and made a great show of slamming my bedroom door – and then I opened it again very cautiously, scooted along the landing, and up the stairs.

  I poked my head up into the attic. It was pitch black!

  ‘Treasure? What is it? What’s happened?’

  I felt for the light switch. I found it but the light didn’t come on.

  ‘Treasure?’

  Why wasn’t she answering me?

  I pulled myself up and felt my way in the darkness.

  ‘Treasure, please! It’s me, India. Where are you?’

  I found the armchair but it was empty. Then I nudged into something on the floor. I bent and felt clothes, a limp body, arms, legs. I shook her gently – and to my horror her arm came right off, dangling there in my hands!

  Fifteen

  Treasure

  IT’S BEEN THE longest day ever, ever, ever.

  I ate my breakfast. By ten o’clock I’d eaten my lunch too, just for something to do. Then I felt sick and started to worry what I would do if I was sick. I wasn’t sure how much that horrible wastebin would hold. And how could I be sick without making a noise? Wanda might hear, unless she was too busy being sick herself. Fancy India not guessing she’s pregnant. India seems so grown-up and she uses all these la-di-da long words but she’s like a little kid really. Our Patsy knows more than she does.

  I mustn’t think about Patsy. Or any of the family. I might start fussing and have an asthma attack. I’m still a bit wheezy. I’m trying to breathe slowly and calmly but when you think about breathing you forget how to do it properly. I can’t help wondering what will happen if I have a really bad asthma attack, like the time Mum had that terrible row with the neighbours when she lived with Big Bill. They set their dog on her and I screamed and then I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t catch my breath, I was just gasp gasp gasp. Mum had to get me to hospital quick. I always needed my inhaler after that.

  I need it now.

  I do so, so, so hope India goes to see Nan.

  I mustn’t think about Nan. I’ll think about . . . Anne Frank. I’ve read her whole diary now. It gets harder towards the end but you keep on reading because you care about her so much. You wonder what she’s going to do with Peter too, though he’s far too dull and boring for Anne.

  She never got the chance to meet anyone else. The diary doesn’t finish the way you want it to, with the war ending and Holland liberated