Secrets Read online

  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.

  ‘Don’t! They might hear. And you’ll hurt yourself, silly. And start up your asthma.’

  ‘How am I going to manage without my inhaler?’

  ‘You’ll manage fine.’

  ‘It was so scary when I was up here in the dark. I couldn’t breathe at all.’

  ‘But you’re OK now.’

  ‘I’m wheezing.’

  ‘Only a little tiny bit. You just need to sit up straight and unclench.’ I gently pulled at her fingers, smoothing them out. ‘Unclench all of you. Now. Relax. Reeelaaax.’

  Treasure gig