Katy Read online

  I hid it in my treasure box when I was in my room. I held my photos of Mum for a little and had another small weep, but then I put the box away. I just lay on my bed with my head buried in my pillow.

  I wished I could start the day all over again. I’d wake up in a sweet mood and be kind to everyone, even Elsie, and when Dad came home he’d put his arm round me and say he was really proud of me.

  I heard him come in downstairs. I stayed in my room. I wondered if he’d come up and see me. I planned to fling my arms round his neck and try to explain – but he stayed downstairs.

  ‘Well, see if I care,’ I said to myself. I did care dreadfully. I could go running down the stairs, of course, and tell him I was sorry. But I’d have to apologize to Izzie too, and I couldn’t bear to do that.

  So I stayed where I was, even though I could hear everyone in the kitchen, obviously starting lunch. Then when I did hear footsteps it was only Clover, bringing a tray of food for me.

  ‘It’s tomato soup and a cheese sandwich,’ she announced. ‘And Izzie’s made a giant chocolate Swiss roll too, but she says you don’t deserve a slice. I tried to smuggle you half of mine, but Izzie saw.’

  I said a very rude word to describe Izzie.

  ‘Hmm!’ said Clover, giggling.

  ‘Is she still going to stop me going swimming?’

  ‘I’ll try to get round Dad,’ said Clover. ‘Surely going without yummy Swiss roll is punishment enough?’

  ‘You sound like Dorry!’ I said.

  I ate my soup and sandwich and tried not to care that I didn’t have any cake. The children downstairs were quieter now, and I heard Dad’s voice talking and talking. I realized he was telling them a story. I felt horribly left out.

  Then at last, while the kids were rushing round grabbing old towels from the airing cupboard, Dad put his head round my door.

  ‘Ah. The child doing penance! Dear goodness, what am I going to do with you, Katy?’ he said.

  ‘Can’t I really come swimming, Dad?’ I asked.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Not this time,’ he said.

  ‘Just because I went to the wretched park! I thought you liked us going out and having fun,’ I wailed.

  ‘I do, but not when you’ve been expressly forbidden to go out. Surely you can see how silly that is. You can’t go waltzing off whenever you feel like it. It’s a very bad example to the others. You might be fine trotting all over the town, but imagine if little Elsie took it into her head to copy you and go out by herself.’

  ‘I wish she would,’ I mumbled.

  ‘That’s not funny. I’m tired of your silly attitude and your hostile remarks. That’s the main reason I’m not letting you come swimming. I can overlook your going to the park, but I’m not having you being so incredibly rude to poor Izzie.’

  ‘She’s rude to me,’ I said defiantly. ‘She’s forever nagging at me and telling me I’ve done things wrong.’

  ‘She’s got every right to tell you what to do. She’s your mother.’

  ‘No, she’s not!’ I shouted. ‘She’s only my horrible stepmother and I wish, wish, wish she wasn’t!’

  Dad shook his head at me and walked away. They all went swimming. They didn’t even say goodbye to me.

  I sprang up and thumped our bedroom wall in fury, but I just hurt my hand. I prowled round and round the room, muttering wretchedly to myself, and nearly tripped over the big coil of rope in the corner. Then I knelt down beside it, thinking about my tree in the secret garden. I felt instantly calmer.

  That was where I was going to go while they were all off enjoying themselves without me! I’d have just as good a time all by myself. I’d make myself a swing.

  I wound the rope round and round me in a business-like fashion and strode purposefully downstairs. I seized one of Izzie’s sharp kitchen knives in case I needed to cut the rope to the right size. I went out into the garden, down the lawn, past the apple tree to the special burrow under the hedge.

  It was hard to wriggle through while all bound up in rope, but I made it. I held the knife carefully, blade away from my body. I could be incredibly careful when necessary. Then I staggered to my feet in the secret garden.

  I felt better immediately. I liked being there by myself. I didn’t have to sort the littlies out and deal with Elsie. I didn’t even have to share with Clover. I could just be myself. I could make up anything I wanted. I could lie in solitary splendour under the willow or dance about the tangled flowers or climb my own huge tree.

  I peered up at the tree, holding the rope in both hands now. Yes, there was a long, straight, high branch which would be perfect. I just had to work out how to fashion my swing. I needed some sort of seat, didn’t I? I peered round hopefully, looking for a flattish log or a broken piece of fence, but could find nothing suitable. Still, if I were to let any of the others share my swing they might fidget on this sort of seat and end up with splinters in a very uncomfortable place.

  I wasn’t sure how to attach the rope safely to a seat anyway, and I didn’t have anything to drill holes. Dad had a box of household tools but he kept it locked, with the key in his own pocket. I knew, because I’d tried to borrow the odd screwdriver or pliers in my time.

  I decided my swing had better have a more elementary design. I could tie one end of the rope to the branch and then let it dangle. I could grasp it and swing backwards and forwards like Tarzan, King of the Apes. Oh yes! I felt myself flushing with excitement. It would be marvellous.

  The branch was quite high up of course. I’d have to hang on tightly. It would probably be too difficult and dangerous to let the littlies have a go. I couldn’t even trust Elsie not to let go and fall. This would be a swing reserved for Clover and Cecy and me.

  I wound the rope back round me and started climbing the tree. It was hard work trussed up like the Michelin Man, but I was good at climbing. I got to the biggest branch and straddled myself across it. I felt deliciously dizzy looking down. I was really high up. I was going to have the most fantastic swing. I realized it might be a bit tricky climbing back up again, but I knew how to climb a rope. I’d manage it, easy-peasy, but maybe Cecy would struggle. Clover definitely would.

  Well then, this was going to be a swing just for me. I wound the end of the rope round the branch and then set about tying a good firm knot. I knew it should be a reef knot, but couldn’t quite remember how to do it. Was it left over right or right over left? But how could you do a reef knot with just one end? I did the best I could, tying one knot, then another, and then another. I tugged hard and it held perfectly.

  I breathed out happily, my arms all goosebumps with anticipation. I edged back along the branch to the main trunk, hanging on to the rope. I climbed down just a little bit. My hands were slippy with sweat so I took turns wiping them one at a time on my jeans, then clasped the rope tightly in both hands – and pushed off.

  Ooooooh! I swung gloriously swiftly through the air, taking off as if I were flying, further and further, and then I jerked all the way back again in a fantastic swoosh. I went forwards, backwards, higher and higher, learning how to push with my knees and propel myself. It was such a wonderful feeling, soaring and swinging, as free as a bird. I remembered Mum pushing me on the swings in the park when I was very little.

  Look, Mum, I’m swinging again! Come and swing with me!

  And then suddenly I was jerked sideways, the rope horribly loose, and I screamed as I realized it had somehow come untied. I was flying through the air for real, tumbling over and over, and then I landed with a terrible bone-shaking thud.

  13

  I woke up and stared up above me in total confusion. The ceiling of my bedroom had disappeared. The entire roof of the house had blown away. I was staring up at blue and green and brown. My eyes were blurred, but after several blinks I sorted out these colours into sky and leaves and tree trunk.

  I gazed at them for several seconds, trying to make sense of my surroundings. I could hear something strange too. Something raspy a