Secrets Read online

  Eighteen

  India

  DEAR KITTY

  I set my alarm for five so I could creep back to my room long before anyone was up. Treasure was asleep. I think she was having another bad dream because she kept twitching and groaning. I patted her shoulders gently and she sighed and turned over onto her tummy.

  ‘That’s it, Treasure. No more bad dreams,’ I whispered, and then I went down the attic steps.

  I was feeling thirsty so I slipped downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of milk. Someone was sitting there in the dark! I screamed.

  ‘Hey, hey, sh! It’s me, India.’

  ‘Dad? What are you doing? Why are you in the dark?’

  I switched the light on. Dad blinked at me, his face contorted. His eyes were red, his hair tousled, his pyjamas unbuttoned. He smelt bad too, of drink and sick.

  ‘Switch that light off, for God’s sake,’ said Dad.

  ‘You should go to bed, Dad. You look awful.’

  ‘I feel bloody awful,’ said Dad. ‘And I can’t sleep.’

  I felt in the fridge, trying to find the right bottle.

  ‘Would you like a glass of milk, Dad?’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ said Dad. He yawned and scratched. ‘India, you didn’t scream earlier on, did you? I thought I heard something—’

  ‘No, Dad,’ I said, sipping milk as nonchalantly as I could.

  ‘Oh well, it was probably a cat yowling.’ Dad paused. ‘I think I made a bit of a prat of myself at teatime, didn’t I?’ he said into the dark.

  ‘You weren’t very well,’ I said kindly.

  Dad sighed. ‘You can say that again.’ His voice was muffled. My heart started beating faster. He might have been crying.

  ‘Dad?’ I felt my way towards him.

  ‘Oh India, I’m in such a mess,’ said Dad. ‘It’s all going to come out soon. What am I going to do?’

  ‘Have you told Mum?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Have you talked things over with Wanda?’

  ‘What? No, it’s time that silly girl was packed off back to Australia.’

  The milk went sour in my mouth. How could he be so callous?

  ‘I think you’re hateful to poor Wanda. You’ve just used her.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, India, you don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Well I don’t want to talk about anything with you,’ I said, and I left him there, sitting in the dark.

  I went back to my own bed but I couldn’t sleep. When I went back downstairs for breakfast I was relieved that Dad had already left for work. Mum had gone too. It was just Wanda and me. We switched on the portable television and watched the news. Treasure was the third item. She was ‘the Latimer Estate girl who is still missing. A thirty-three-year-old man, believed to be a neighbour, is currently helping police with their enquiries.’

  ‘My God, that’s so close it’s scary,’ said Wanda. ‘That poor little kid. I wonder if they’ll ever find her.’

  ‘Don’t talk as if she’s dead!’

  ‘It’s obvious the police think this guy’s murdered her or they wouldn’t have arrested him.’

  ‘He’s not arrested, he’s simply helping the police. I’m sure they’ll let him go soon.’

  I kept seeing poor Mumbly Michael shaking his head and sticking out his tongue. I felt so bad about him. I knew Treasure was right. We had to do something to help him.

  School was buzzing with it all when Wanda dropped me off.

  ‘There, India, satisfied?’ said Alice, hands on her hips. ‘You were getting all shirty with us only the other day, telling us how sweet and lovely everyone is down at the Latimer Estate – and now here’s this sweet and lovely rapist and murderer making the news.’

  ‘Rapist? Murderer? What are you on about? There’s no proof that any crime at all has been committed. The only real crime is that everyone is jumping to stupid conclusions.’

  I said it so furiously that Alice took a step backwards.

  ‘There’s no need to get so het up, India,’ said Maria, putting her arm round Alice.

  I glared at them both contemptuously, wondering how I could ever have hung round them, desperate to be their friend. I stalked on, concentrating on my real friend.

  I’m writing this in an English lesson. We’re supposed to be plotting out some stupid story about secrets. I have far more exciting secret plans! I’m soooo looking forward to this evening. I’ll fix Treasure a real feast. I’ll snaffle a big carton of ice-cream out of the freezer and maybe a chocolate cake too. I’ll take my tin of beads and coloured threads and we’ll make each other special friendship bracelets.

  I’ve got a real present for Treasure too. I’m going to give her the beautiful Italian marble notebook Mum bought me back from Milan. I’d been planning to write my diary in it when this book is finished, but I want to give it to Treasure instead, for her diary.

  I’ll take this diary up to the attic too and share it with her. I thought maybe I could write a little passage in her diary and she could write in mine. We will share everything . . .

  It’s all over. Over. Over. Over.

  I was writing all those special secret plans in my diary when Mrs Hedges the school secretary came into the classroom and whispered to Mrs Gibbs. Then they both stared at me.

  ‘India, will you go with Mrs Hedges to Mrs Blandford’s office, please,’ said Mrs Gibbs.

  I shut my diary up with a snap and stuck it in my schoolbag quick. I wondered why on earth I had to see Mrs Blandford. She’s the headteacher. The only reason you’re ever sent to see her is if you’re in serious trouble. Everyone was staring at me now.

  I put my schoolbag over my shoulder and walked out of the classroom after Mrs Hedges.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ I asked her.

  ‘I’m not sure, dear. This lady came into the school asking if we had any pupils called India. She needs to talk to you.’

  I wondered if something awful had happened to Mum or Dad. Maybe I was being punished for writing that I’d like to be an orphan. It suddenly seemed a very sad, scary idea.

  I knocked on Mrs Blandford’s door and went in.

  There was Treasure’s nan! She was wearing a smart black suit with a pink jumper but she had no make-up on at all and her hair was pulled back in a straggly ponytail. Her face looked pulled tight too.

  Mrs Blandford was leaning forward, her elbows on her desk, her hands making a little arch, fingertips just touching.

  ‘Right, India, come and sit down.’

  I did as I was told, looking worriedly at Nan.

  ‘Where’s my Treasure?’ she said, going straight for it.

  ‘Now then, Mrs . . .?’ said Mrs Blandford.

  ‘I told you, I’m Rita Mitchell, Treasure’s nan.’

  ‘And you know India?’

  Nan sighed impatiently. ‘Yes, I said.’ She looked at me. ‘India?’

  ‘Hello, Nan,’ I said weakly.

  ‘And you know this lady’s granddaughter, Treasure, too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Mrs Blandford’s fingers did a little tap, tap, tap against each other.

  ‘Do you know where Treasure is now, India?’ said Mrs Blandford.

  I didn’t know what to do, what to say. It was all so complicated.

  ‘Treasure’s all right, Nan, I promise,’ I said.

  ‘So where is she then?’ said Nan. ‘Is she at your home? I know you live at Parkfield – but which road? I’ve been all over the place, looking for you. Come on, India, tell me your address.’

  I swallowed. I knew how badly Treasure wanted to be with Nan but if she went back now she’d still be trapped by Terry. I wanted to keep her safe in the secret attic. I could look after her. Nan hadn’t been much use in protecting her from Terry.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ said Nan, standing up and seizing me by the shoulders.

  ‘Please, Mrs Mitchell! Sit down! Le