“Why did you kick him in the first place?”
His whole body tensed up. “He’s an idiot. He called me a spaz and said I was a midget.”
One or two kids at school have teased Charlie about his size before, and about the way he walks, but it’s never really bothered him. I had no idea who Finn was, but I felt like kicking him myself.
“Did you tell Mrs Conner?”
Charlie shook his head against my chest. “There’s no point. But if Finn says anything else, I’ll kick him again, or worse. I swear he’ll be sorry he ever messed with me in the first place.”
He was trying to big himself up, act the tough guy, but he’d probably never felt so small in his life.
“Hey, Charlie, who’s the best footballer in the world?”
I could almost feel him rolling his eyes.
“Messi, obviously.”
“And how tall is he?”
“Small,” he said.
“You just remember that, next time Finn, or anyone else, calls you names.”
I felt his body relax against mine and I pulled him even closer, holding him tight. A few moments later his breathing slowed and then a little while later he began to snore. It was like lying next to a tractor, or some kind of high-powered drill. I was still aware of Mum shouting, but her voice was muffled, as if it was coming from far away – muffled enough to pretend it was someone else’s mum shouting at someone else’s dad.
Charlie was still fast asleep and snoring when I woke up the next morning. I slipped out of bed and got dressed, anxious to see Dad, to make sure everything was okay. I was aching all over, as if I hadn’t slept properly for weeks. I ran downstairs and was about to go in the kitchen when I realized Mum was already in there on the phone. I pressed my ear right up against the door, holding my breath so she wouldn’t know I was listening.
“Oh, Hat, I just don’t know how we’re going to tell her,” she was saying. I realized she was talking to my aunt. “You know how hard she’s found it since her nan died and now this! It’s all been so sudden – getting in touch with him like that, completely out of the blue, asking him to meet up…”
My legs felt wobbly, as if they weren’t strong enough to take my weight. She was talking about Dad and Sharon, she had to be. I started to tremble all over.
“I really wish you were here, Hat,” said Mum, her voice breaking. “I wish I knew how to handle this but I feel completely out of my depth… I know, I know, Charlie will be fine; I’m really not worried about him, for once. But I honestly don’t think Maddie can cope with one more change.”
I turned and raced back upstairs, reaching around Charlie’s head and under my pillow for my ribbon. What did she mean? What was going on? What were they going to tell me? I held the ribbon up to my face, breathing in the satiny smell, trying to stop the awful churning in my stomach. Were Mum and Dad breaking up? Was Dad leaving us for Sharon? Is that what she was talking about? Was that the change?
The floor shifted beneath my feet – I could actually feel it move, as if an earthquake was happening right there in my room. I grabbed hold of my headboard, trying to steady myself. I was breathing too fast, short gasping breaths as the panic began to spiral out of control.
And then I did something I’d never done before, not even when Nan died. I unwrapped the ribbon from round my hand and slipped it into my bag.
Chapter 14
I could see Gemma waiting for me in the distance as I came up Banner Road, but I couldn’t face her, I was too upset. I didn’t know what to say anyway. I crossed the road to the other side and slipped in the side entrance. We’re not supposed to go in that way unless we have an early-morning job, like setting up for assembly, but it was easy enough to pretend I was with the other monitors.
Mum had still been talking to Aunty Hat when I’d come back down to leave for school. She mouthed something about breakfast, as if I was really going to sit down with her and have a slice of toast or a bowl of cereal. I couldn’t imagine ever eating breakfast again, not in a normal way, all of us sitting round the table together, not if Dad was leaving us to live with Sharon.
I hid in the girls’ toilet until registration, locking myself in a cubicle, my ribbon wrapped round my hand like a bandage. I felt massively guilty about bringing it to school, as if I’d broken some unspoken rule. Mum would go mad if she found out, but there was no way I could get through the day without it.
Kieran and Sally-Ann were already in the Blue Room when I got there. Sally-Ann was telling Vivian about her weekend, something to do with the hospital. She trailed off as I came in, holding her side and wincing as if she was in pain.
“Hello, Maddie,” said Vivian. “Do you want the pad?”
I took it from her without saying anything and sat at the far end of the table. Most of the session passed in a blur. Sally-Ann carried on telling Vivian about the hospital; how she’d been tested for a new batch of allergies. She went on and on, listing all the allergies she might or might not have, until suddenly Kieran slammed his fist down on the table.
“Just shut up, can’t you! Some people have serious illnesses, they even die! Who cares about whether you’ve got a stupid allergy to dust mites?”
“Well you can actually die from allergies too, if you must know!” said Sally-Ann. She stuck her chin out but her face was bright red and she was blinking back tears.
Vivian waited a moment and then she said, “Sometimes it must feel as if nothing else is as serious as what we’re going through ourselves.”
“Hang on,” said Kieran. “What are you saying? That an allergy to dust mites is as serious as someone dying?”
“No, of course not,” said Vivian. “I’m just aware that Sally-Ann’s allergies cause her a lot of anxiety, even though you might be going through something yourself that feels far more serious than that.”
Kieran sat there fuming. He was obviously thinking about his mum, not that he’d ever tell Vivian. He took a single stone out of his pocket and rolled it round and round between the palms of his hands as if he was trying to smooth away all the rough edges.
“So are you going to say sorry then or what?” said Sally-Ann, still blinking. “Maybe you should engage your brain before you start mouthing off.”
Kieran raised his eyes to look at her. “Why should I say sorry? Some things are more serious than a bunch of pathetic allergies. When you die it’s for ever. You don’t go to the hospital and have a few tests done or get a load of pills. You don’t get cured. I mean are you too thick to understand or what?”
Sally-Ann opened her mouth and closed it again.
“Perhaps it would be helpful for you to talk about this some more, Kieran?” said Vivian. “To tell us why you’re so angry.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” said Kieran, scraping his chair back and drawing himself up. “When someone dies it’s for ever, so how is talking about it going to help?”
He didn’t bother waiting for an answer; he kicked his chair halfway across the room and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
I had a sudden urge to run after him. To tell him I understood. That I was never going to see my nan again, that she was gone for ever. I needed my ribbon. I could almost feel it in my bag, my hands itching to reach for it, my breathing tight. Just one touch and I’d be able to cope.
“He’s so obnoxious,” said Sally-Ann, pushing her fringe out of her eyes. “It’s like he thinks he’s the only person who’s ever suffered.”
“Well I feel sorry for him,” I blurted out, surprising myself. “My nan died over six months ago and I still miss her every single day.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your nan, Maddie,” said Vivian. “Were you very close?”
“Very,” I said, staring down at the pad, a heavy feeling pressing down on my chest like a brick. “She was more like a mum to me than a nan.”
“Yeah, sorry about your nan,” said Sally-Ann, “but Kieran didn’t actually say his nan had died, or his granddad, or anyone else, did h
e? He just said when someone dies, as if he was trying to prove a point. He was just doing it to put me down.”
I glanced at Vivian, wondering if she knew about Kieran’s mum. How much had Mrs Palmer told her?
“Well I can’t tell you what Kieran meant exactly,” she said to Sally-Ann. “Perhaps he’ll explain to you himself on Thursday.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s time for you to go to your first class now, girls, but thank you for coming.”
Gemma was waiting for me by my locker.
“Why did you go in the side entrance?” she said. “Didn’t you see me waving by the gates? One minute you were there and then you’d disappeared and I’ve got so much to tell you.”
I stuck my head in my locker, pretending to be busy with my books. “I’m really sorry, I was dying for the loo and I couldn’t wait. So what’s the big news?”
“You’ll never guess,” she said, hopping from foot to foot. “I was in the newsagent’s looking for a birthday card for my mum and Nathan came in to buy a Coke. I mean what are the chances of that? Two weekends in a row! God, I hope he doesn’t think I’m stalking him or anything…”
“What happened? Did you speak to him this time?”
She shook her head. “No, but I smiled and I think he smiled back. Look I’ll show you exactly what he did and you tell me if you think it was a smile.” She pulled me round to face her and attempted to smile, her face twisting up on one side. “Well?”
I couldn’t help laughing, it was so funny. “I don’t know,” I said. “Are you sure he didn’t have toothache or something?”
“What do you mean? It was definitely a smile.” But she laughed as well, linking her arm through mine as we made our way down the corridor.
I tried to concentrate on what she was saying as she gabbled on about Nathan and rounders club and how she was definitely going to wear her glasses on Wednesday so she could see the ball. It was a relief to have something else to think about for a few minutes, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the anxiety about Mum and Dad rowing and the phone call to Aunty Hat squashed down for very long.
In English we had to discuss and then write about the holes that Stanley and the other boys at Camp Green Lake were made to dig every day as part of their punishment. The camp is in the middle of a desert and the boys are forced to dig in the heat of the midday sun until they’re literally collapsing with exhaustion.
I only managed to write a paragraph and when I read it through it didn’t even make sense. Mum’s words kept going round and round my head. I honestly don’t think Maddie can cope with one more change. I honestly don’t think Maddie can cope with one more change. Nan used to say I was better at coping than I gave myself credit for, but that was only because she was there to look after me, to cheer me on.
When we’d finished, Miss Owen asked us to think about the holes in Stanley’s life before he came to the camp, how he didn’t have any friends, for example. She said for homework she wanted us to write about a hole in our own lives. Either something really serious like a bereavement or moving country – or something we’d all experienced, like leaving our friends behind when we moved from primary school to secondary.
I turned round to look at Kieran, to see how he’d react, but he wasn’t there. The place where he usually sat was empty.
“I have no idea what I’m going to write about,” I said to Gemma as we trailed out of class. “I wish she wouldn’t give us such personal homework.”
“Well I’m not doing it at all,” said Gemma sharply.
“What do you mean?” Gemma always did her homework, even when she was off sick. “You have to write something or you’ll get a detention.”
“I don’t care. She can give me a hundred detentions; I’m still not doing it.”
“But why, Gem? Why don’t you want to do it?”
“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, Maddie,” she snapped, her eyes brimming with tears, and she took off down the corridor before I could say anything else.
We had history, second lesson. I tried passing Gemma a note, to ask what was wrong, but Mr Bassington started to hand back our English Civil War projects, walking up and down the aisle, commenting on each one in turn. Gemma had done really well – she got 89%, the highest in the class – but mine didn’t even have a mark on it, it just said Incomplete.
“You’ve made a good enough start, Maddie,” said Mr Bassington in front of everyone, “but I was expecting so much more.”
“Bassington was a bit harsh,” said Gemma later. We were in the canteen supposedly having lunch but I was so wound up I couldn’t eat a thing. “Are you upset about it?”
I shrugged. “Not really. I knew I hadn’t done enough.”
“Even so, he didn’t have to single you out like that,” she said. “Hey, do you want to look at my project? I mean, don’t copy it or anything, but you could definitely use it for ideas.”
I glanced up at her, surprised. Maybe she felt bad about earlier? She hadn’t mentioned it again. She was acting like it never happened.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind, after all the work you put into it?”
“Of course not! We’re friends, aren’t we?” She pulled her project out of her bag and handed it to me. “Just don’t make it obvious. I really love history, but I know some people find it boring.”
“No, I do like history, you know I do. It’s not that, Gemma, it’s just…” She was being so nice, offering me her project…suddenly I wanted to tell her. I should’ve told her ages ago, as soon as Mrs Palmer asked to see me that day. She was my best friend. She’d never judge me or be mean. The only person she was ever mean about was Kieran, and that was only because he was mean to me.
I reached down into my bag, feeling for my ribbon. It helped me just to know it was there, giving me that extra bit of courage I needed. “It’s just…I…um…I haven’t been coping very well since my nan died. I know it’s been months and months and everyone thinks I should be over it by now, but I feel anxious all the time, like something bad’s going to happen…”
She leaned forward, nodding, encouraging me to carry on.
“So anyway, I’ve been finding it really hard to cope. You should’ve seen my mid-term assessments, my grades were rubbish. That’s why I have to go to the Blue Room every Monday and Thursday…”
“What do you mean? For extra lessons?”
“No, not exactly.” My face started to heat up. “They’re these special sessions run by a counsellor called Vivian. I go there to talk about any worries I might have, stuff like that…”
Gemma took a sip of juice, her eyes never leaving my face. “I wish you’d told me all this before. I feel so stupid. You haven’t said anything about your nan, not since you first came back to school, and I’ve been going on and on about Nathan and rounders club and my new haircut…”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know.”
She was quiet for a moment and then she grabbed hold of my hand. “Listen, I’ve got an idea. I know it won’t stop you missing your nan or anything, but why don’t you come back to mine after school? I’ll help you finish your history project and then you can help me to get better at rounders. We’ll practise in the garden. My dad’s got a cricket bat and I’m sure I’ve got a tennis ball stashed away somewhere.”
I took another big breath, smiling. It was just like Stanley and his new friend at Camp Green Lake, Zero. He teaches Zero how to read and, in return, Zero helps him to dig his hole every day. Vivian was right about scary situations and taking the plunge. I had no idea if it was having my ribbon with me that was helping me, or my sessions with Vivian, but now I’d finally started to open up to Gemma I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long.
“Okay,” I said, still smiling. “I’ll have to ring my mum, but I’m sure she’ll say it’s fine.”
We went back to mine in the end. Mum had to go somewhere straight after work and she needed me home for Charlie. I was relieved in a way. If Gemma
was there Mum wouldn’t be able to start telling me about this big change, whatever it was. I knew it would have to come out eventually, and a part of me wanted to know, but Mum was right – the way I was feeling at the moment, I wasn’t sure I could cope with things changing again.
It was the first time Gemma had been round for ages, since before Nan died. I thought it might feel awkward at first but as we walked out of school and down Banner Road, chatting about the history project, and Nathan, and how she was going to get him to notice her at rounders, it felt completely natural, just like it used to. We cut through the cemetery and were almost level with Nan’s gravestone when I noticed Kieran. He was sitting on my bench with his knees up and his head down.
I took hold of Gemma’s arm and steered her round a different way. I didn’t want her to start asking a load of questions about why he was there. I’d not seen him in school all day – he must’ve bunked off straight after Vivian’s session and the row with Sally-Ann. I wondered whether he’d get into trouble; whether anyone cared if he was in school or not.
I hadn’t been lying when I said I felt sorry for him. It was almost as if he could disappear down a great big hole and no one would even notice he’d gone.
Rounders practice in the garden was fun. We used an empty plastic bottle for a bat and an old tennis ball and I bowled while Charlie stood behind Gemma as the backstop. Every time she missed, Charlie put his hand over his eyes groaning. I don’t think he could believe how bad she was. In the end he ran in to get another bottle and stood next to her to demonstrate.
“You have to keep your eye on the ball,” he said, “and start moving your arm back as soon as the ball leaves the bowler’s hand. Watch me, okay? Come on, Maddie, bowl the ball.”
Charlie’s eyes never left the ball as he stood there, his legs so skinny it was difficult to see how they were holding him up. He drew his arm back and whacked the ball with all his strength straight over the fence and into our neighbour’s garden.
“That’s how you do it,” he said, looking quite pleased with himself. “I’ll go round and get it back and then you can have another go.”
Tangled Secrets Page 10
