‘Get back!’ the driver roared, his face red with fury as fifteen people tried to squeeze through the open doors at once. ‘Get back, I say!’
I stood just behind a little group of four girls, waiting my turn. I didn’t mean to listen to what they were saying, but it was impossible not to. I imagine people three streets away could hear them perfectly.
‘Oh, my God! You are just s-o-o-o lucky, Celina Patel!’ one of them, the curly-haired redhead, shrieked at the top of her voice. ‘I absolutely and totally hate you!’
The girl called Celina shrugged and laughed. She was pretty. Her glossy, dead straight, dark hair was cut short at the front so that it hugged her cheekbones, and then it flipped out at the sides. Quite unusually for an Indian girl, she had green eyes. Everything about her looked expensive. The thin gold hoops in her ears, the leather designer bag, the Nike trainers which I recognized as a limited edition.
‘Some of us have it and some of us don’t, I guess, Danielle,’ she said in a mock-American drawl. ‘I was just lucky my birthday was during half-term.’
‘Yes, but Florida!’ Danielle wailed enviously as we shuffled closer to the bus. ‘My mum and dad took me to Alton Towers for my birthday surprise last year. How gross is that?’
The other three girls squealed piercingly with horror.
‘Don’t you dare tell the story of how your brother was sick when you went on Nemesis,’ Celina giggled, flicking her flippy hair over her shoulders.
‘What story?’ asked the tiny doll-like blonde, wearing too much make-up, who was standing next to her.
Celina rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘Honestly, Chloe, you so don’t want to hear that story.’
‘Oh, I do,’ Chloe insisted. She looked as if she could barely lift her eyelashes under the weight of mascara. ‘Tell me.’
‘If you tell that story again, I’ll be sick myself, I swear,’ the fourth girl said melodramatically, putting her hand over her mouth. She was tall and slim, but not as pretty as Celina.
‘Don’t listen then, Jyoti.’ Danielle turned to Chloe. ‘Well, I was on Nemesis with my mum and Adam, and he felt really sick. But he had nothing to be sick in, of course. Except—’
Celina and Jyoti both screamed and put their hands over their ears.
‘What?’ Chloe asked eagerly.
‘Let’s just say my mum’s Chanel handbag has never been the same since,’ Danielle giggled.
‘OK.’ Chloe looked puzzled. ‘So what happened?’
Celina, Jyoti and Danielle squealed with laughter.
‘Oh, Chloe, you’re such a no-brain.’ Celina flapped her hand dismissively at Chloe, showing off her manicured nails painted with pale pink, sparkly gloss. ‘Don’t you get it?’
Chloe frowned, concentrating hard. ‘Dani’s brother was sick on Nemesis, but I still don’t see what her mum’s handbag has to do with it— Oh!’ She clapped her hands to her face. ‘That’s disgusting! What did you tell me that for?’
‘I think she’s finally got it,’ Celina said. ‘Clo, you’re never going to make Prime Minister.’
‘I don’t want to be Prime Minister,’ replied Chloe, playing with her silver necklace. ‘But I’d love to be on Big Brother.’
Chloe was obviously a complete airhead, and her friends didn’t seem a whole lot better. But, standing silently behind them, I was envious. They had each other, and they belonged. It had been that way for me, once, with Kareena, Lucy, Rekha and Daisy. Being on my own felt cold and lonely.
We moved closer to the bus. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, the girl called Celina swung round and looked me straight in the face. She took me by surprise so I didn’t smile at her or say hello. Neither did she. She stared at me for a second or two, then turned back to her friends.
I don’t know why, but my heart was thumping like a drum after that. I got myself onto the bus, and sat as far away from them as I could.
‘Hey!’
I almost leaped out of the open window in fright as someone behind me yelled out at the top of their voice.
‘Hey, Williams!’
I sagged with relief as I realized that the boy in the seat behind wasn’t talking to me. I could just see him out of the corner of my eye. He had dark hair, stiff with gel, which stood up in short spikes all over his head. He was good-looking, and oh, did he know it. That type. He was staring over my head at a plump boy waddling down the aisle between the seats. This one was not good-looking.
‘Have you paid for two seats, Williams?’ he went on. Everyone around me sniggered.
‘N-no, Jack,’ the boy stammered, looking up nervously from beneath his pudding-bowl fringe.
‘You’d better stand then, fatso,’ Jack said. There was that supremely confident edge to his voice which only really good-looking boys ever have. ‘Why should your big butt take up two seats?’
The boy tried to smile, didn’t succeed and obediently stood there, chewing his lip. I stared out of the grimy window as we moved off and the plump boy lurched from side to side. That was so not going to happen to me. There was no way I was going to end up a victim.
I had been told to go straight to the school office when I arrived. It was a relief. The enormous playground was crammed with pupils chattering away; it brought home to me the fact that I didn’t know a single soul. The school wasn’t warm and welcoming either. It was a modern, angular building, made of glass and steel, and every door looked the same. I walked right around the whole building twice, looking vainly for the school office. I didn’t like to ask.
As I rounded a corner of the building for the fourth time, starting to feel all hot and bothered, I bumped straight into three girls. Beautiful and glamorous, even in the hideous blue and brown uniform, they looked like Bollywood film stars – big dark eyes, glossy hair and lots of attitude. I stared at them, open-mouthed.
‘Hello-o-o?’ said one, rather crossly. ‘How about an apology here? You know, I’m sorry for bumping into you – something along those lines?’
‘Jazz!’ The oldest girl elbowed her in the ribs, then swiftly looked me up and down. ‘You’re new, aren’t you?’
I nodded dumbly, wondering if all the girls in the school were going to be as gorgeous and sophisticated and confident as these three, and Celina and her friends.
‘Don’t tell me’ – the third girl, tall and with the longest legs I’d ever seen, smiled at me – ‘you’re looking for the office, right?’ She pointed high above my head. I looked up and saw a large sign that read SCHOOL OFFICE with an arrow pointing to a nearby door.
‘Thank you,’ I said shyly.
‘They really ought to move that sign down about two metres,’ the girl called Jazz grumbled. ‘It’s way too high for most of us normal-sized people. Only vertically abnormal people like Amber can see it.’
Amber raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Don’t mind my sister,’ she said. ‘She’s even grumpier than usual because she’s sleep-deprived. Our uncle and aunt, who live next door to us, have just had a baby.’
‘Babies!’ Jazz groaned. ‘Babies are so over-rated. All they do is eat, sleep, poo and wake innocent people in the night with their howling. Change bedrooms with me, Geena?’
‘No chance,’ the oldest girl retorted.
‘Amber?’
‘I’ll see you in court first.’
I would have liked to know more, but the three girls moved away, still arguing. I watched them go, feeling a little sad that they were all older than me and so wouldn’t be in my class. But it was wonderful to have a conversation like a normal person. They were the first Coppergate pupils I’d spoken to so far. And, most important of all, they had showed no sign of recognizing me.
Mrs Bright, the headteacher, was like the school, modern and angular and streamlined, with a precisely cut blonde bob sawn off with perfect symmetry all around her face and a spotless cream tweed suit. I was shown into her office, which was the size of a large classroom, by the secretary, Mrs Capstick, and I think it took me at least five awkward minute
s to walk from the door to Mrs Bright’s desk. She sat watching me from start to finish with a piercing blue gaze that did nothing to put me at ease. When I eventually reached her desk, I half expected a trapdoor to open in the floor and send me plunging into a dark dungeon.
‘Sunita.’ Her face did soften a little then. ‘Welcome to Coppergate School. We’re very pleased to have you with us.’
She spoke very smoothly, and smiled, but I got the impression she wasn’t that pleased. Mum had told me that Mrs Bright was new to the school herself. She’d only started a few months ago, and she probably had big plans to make her mark there. I felt I was a small but annoying spanner in her works. Or maybe I was being over-sensitive. It’s hard for me to be sure these days.
‘You’re in class Seven B,’ she went on briskly, not waiting for me to speak, which was lucky because I couldn’t think of anything to say. ‘Your class teacher is Mr Arora. He’s also head of the lower school, so if you have any problems settling in, go straight to him.’
She cleared her throat. ‘Mr Arora, of course, knows all about—’ She paused.
I waited with interest. How would she refer to what had happened?
‘The unfortunate incident with your father,’ she went on smoothly. ‘But only the senior teachers have been told. We have kept it on a strictly need-to-know basis.’
I felt I was expected to say something here, so I said the safest thing I could think of, which was ‘Thank you’.
Mrs Bright nodded and smiled. ‘Off you go then,’ she said, quite kindly this time. ‘Just remember that you’re lucky to have a place at Coppergate. It’s a wonderful school.’
Her tone implied And I’m going to make it even better.
I wondered if I should curtsy my way out of the room, but decided it probably wasn’t necessary. A few moments later I was back out in the playground, having been given directions to my classroom by Mrs Capstick. It seemed to involve a lot of stairs and right turns. I hoped I could find it.
By now I was breathing a little more easily. My worst fear, that everyone would recognize me straight away, hadn’t happened. That alone made me feel better.
Trying to remember what Mrs Capstick had told me, I made my way over to the lower school entrance. Celina Patel and her friends were leaning against the wall, chatting, and Chloe was staring into a make-up mirror, brushing on yet more lip gloss.
Celina saw me and waved in a friendly way. I was so shocked, I didn’t wave back. I looked over my shoulder. She couldn’t really be waving at me …
‘Yes, you.’ Celina laughed and pointed at me. ‘Hi there. You’re new, aren’t you?’
‘What’s your name?’ asked the other Indian girl. I’d forgotten her name. Jyoti, I thought.
‘Which class are you in?’ That was Danielle.
‘What’s your favourite lip gloss?’ asked Chloe, still squinting at herself in the tiny mirror.
I felt overwhelmed by their interest. Should I be friendly or not? It took me two seconds to make up my mind.
‘Sunita.’ I smiled at them. ‘I’m in Mr Arora’s class.’
‘Oh, fab!’ Celina looked pleased. ‘The same as us. You can sit at our table if you like.’
‘I can?’ This was wildly unbelievable. How wonderful. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s a funny time to start a new school, just after half-term,’ Danielle said curiously, after they had all introduced themselves.
I’d already worked out what I was going to say. ‘Well, we were moving house and it took longer than we expected. I should have started at the beginning of term really.’
They looked sympathetic.
‘Oh, it’s horrible coming to a new school, isn’t it?’ said Chloe, who was now brushing her hair. ‘I remember when I started at Coppergate in September, I had a big spot on my nose the first day. I felt terrible.’
‘Really?’ I said, secretly thinking that if that was the worst that had ever happened to her, wasn’t she the lucky one?
‘She kept her hand over her face all day, and Mr Arora told her off because he couldn’t hear what she was saying,’ Danielle said with a grin.
We laughed. Cautiously, I began to feel my way towards being – well, maybe not happy, but comfortable. I was with people who liked me, or at least were going to give me a chance to see if they liked me. Maybe I could belong here, after all.
‘Oh!’ A loud shriek from Celina made us all jump.
‘What is it, Cee?’ Chloe enquired, putting her mirror away.
‘I remember now!’ Celina was staring at me triumphantly, her kitten-green eyes narrowing. I felt a flicker of fear pass through me. ‘I thought I’d seen you before. You’re the girl whose dad stole all that money!’
Of course, we didn’t know Dad was stealing money. Even Mum didn’t know.
Dad was an accountant. He never read books, he wasn’t interested in stories, but he could do maths like lightning in his head. My favourite thing when I was little was to sit on his knee and ask him impossible sums. ‘Dad, what’s 4,678 times 91?’ Dad would work it out in his head, and then I would check it on the calculator. He was never wrong. Anyway, that’s how I remember it.
We lived in a nice but ordinary sort of house, and Mum didn’t have to work, which was lucky because the twins were a full-time job from the day they were born. But then a few years ago Dad was made a partner in his firm. Suddenly we seemed to have lots of money. We moved to a bigger house with six bedrooms and a conservatory and a swimming pool in the garden, and Mum got her own BMW to sit on the huge drive next to Dad’s Mercedes. We had a cleaner, a gardener and an au pair. Dad even talked about sending me to a private school, but I didn’t want to leave my friends.
By the time everything came crashing down around our ears, Dad had already disappeared. The first we knew, Mum got a phone call from one of the other partners, Mr Deol. He told Mum that Dad had been stealing their clients’ money from the firm for the last three years. Thousands, he said.
Then the police arrived, but Dad had already packed his things and gone. He didn’t tell me where he was going. He didn’t tell Mum. We still don’t know where he is, or even if he’s alive.
I don’t have to describe how we felt. Can you imagine? Maybe you can’t. Nobody can really understand until it happens to them. I can hardly believe it myself. I loved my dad, I still love my dad. But what he did makes me feel sick and angry inside.
The newspapers wouldn’t have been so interested if the firm’s clients hadn’t included a reasonably famous pop singer, and a sort-of-well-known actress who took her clothes off in films a lot. The next day Dad was all over the national papers, and so were we. Somehow the press had got hold of the photo of us that Dad kept on his desk at work. I don’t know how.
Mum was in shock, but she did her best to keep everything going. There wasn’t much she could do, though. We had to sell the big house and the two cars and everything else except what we needed to survive. Mum paid as much money as she could back to the firm. We didn’t know the reasonably famous rock star and the sort-of-well-known actress who removed her clothes regularly, but some of the other clients whom Dad stole from were family friends. Used to be, anyway.
After ten terrible months we just about had enough money left to buy a little house, miles away from where it happened, and try to start again.
That didn’t seem likely now.
Chloe, Danielle and Jyoti were staring from me to Celina with huge eyes.
‘What do you mean, Cee?’ Danielle asked, looking confused.
‘What money?’ Jyoti wanted to know.
I don’t know why, but I felt quite calm. I met Celina’s smug, green-eyed gaze head-on. She had known who I was all along, I think. She’d recognized me in the bus queue. But she’d kept the knowledge to herself so that she could make a big impression when she chose to reveal it.
‘You know.’ Celina shrugged her slim shoulders elegantly. ‘That accountant guy who stole money from Guy Kingsmith and Kara LePage.’ She put her
head on one side, looking at me as if I’d just crawled out of the sewers. ‘She’s his daughter.’
‘Oh, my God!’ Jyoti and Danielle screamed in unison while Chloe looked blank and said plaintively, ‘I still don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Heads were starting to turn around us, and people were looking. I realized then that keeping in the background wasn’t going to be an option any more. New meek and mild Sunita wasn’t going to be any help at all. Only old Sunita could get me out of this situation with any dignity.
‘Yeah, well done.’ I shrugged, managing to look almost as casual as Celina. ‘You win first prize.’
‘Oh!’ Chloe clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘I remember now. Your dad stole loads of money!’
‘Brilliant.’ I gave her a slow handclap. ‘That loud, creaking sound I just heard must have been your brain finally getting into gear.’
‘Don’t talk to Chloe like that,’ Celina said sharply. She raised her voice so that everyone around us could hear perfectly. ‘Her dad’s not a dirty thief.’
‘Oh dear,’ I said in a mocking tone. ‘Does that mean you don’t want to sit with me in class, after all? I’m utterly heartbroken.’
Without giving them a chance to reply, I turned and strolled off through the whispering crowd. Their eyes were out on stalks. I marched into school, not knowing where I was going, not caring. Then, when I was out of sight of everyone, my knees finally gave way and I slumped against a wall. I was shivering violently. What I had been dreading had actually happened. Now I had to deal with it. Not for the first time, I thought how unfair it was that my dad had done something wrong and the rest of the family had to suffer for it …
The morning bell shrilled out right above my head, jarring my nerves even more. Taking a deep breath, telling myself to stay calm, I set myself the task of finding my way to the Year 7 classrooms.
I found 7B more by luck than anything else, having had to walk around half the school and brave the stares and whispered comments of the people I met along the way. Someone called out something, I didn’t hear what, and everyone around me sniggered. I was a kind of celebrity, I thought grimly. How amusing.
Sunita’s Secret Page 2
