Secrets (9 page)

Eight

India

DEAREST KITTY

You'll never ever guess what! I have this incredible new best friend, Treasure. She is so lovely – absolutely ice-cream cool and yet
sooooo
kind to me. She just rode up on her bike and started chatting to me like we'd been friends for ever.

I was a bit scared she might be sending me up, but she was truly friendly and invited me back for tea practically straightaway, no big deal at all, she didn't even need to ask her grandma first.

Treasure's grandma looks incredible, long blond curly hair and bright blue eyes and shiny pink lipstick. She was wearing a tight pink top, black trousers and pink high heels when I first met her. She cooked us tea:
egg
and bacon and baked beans and tomato and fried bread for Treasure and me, two eggs and four rashers and extra baked beans and tomato and practically a whole fried loaf for Willie, just baked beans and tomato for Patsy because she has to watch her figure for her future showbiz career, just toast for Loretta because she was going out with her girlfriends and she'd have a pizza later, and runny egg and soldiers for little baby Britney.

Nan served up all these different meals without fussing. She just had a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea herself, because she said she didn't like to eat too much before a class. I wondered if she was some kind of teacher, though she certainly doesn't
look
like one. Then she went and got changed. She came back into the kitchen looking AMAZING in this little white flared skirt with a matching fringed bolero trimmed with gold, and white crocodile cowboy boots.

She winked at me. ‘I'm just dashing down to Tesco to do my shopping,' she said. Then she roared with laughter. ‘Your
face
, sweetheart! No, this is my work outfit. I teach line dancing.'

‘Mum's been the South-East area champion two years running,' Patsy said proudly.

‘Patsy's won all sorts of trophies and medals and stuff too, and Loretta used to dance and all, before she had Britney. And Willie's brilliant at disco dancing. I'm the only one who's got two left feet,' said Treasure.

‘I'm useless at dancing. I hate school discos, I never know what to do,' I said.

I hate the clothes you're supposed to wear too. Moya Upton clothes.

I
loved
it that Treasure and all her family liked my school uniform. Mum always winces whenever she sees it. Maybe it's just the way I look in it.

I know just what Mum would say about Treasure's grandma in her cowboy clothes. Still
I
think she looked lovely, and she smelled lovely too, all powdery and perfume. She kissed everyone goodbye, even me.

‘You come round any time you fancy, India, my lovie,' she said. ‘And you're welcome to stay as long as you like, but I think you'd better phone home first, just to let your mum know where you are.'

She offered me her mobile. It had its own little white and gold cover to match her outfit. I said truthfully that my mum wouldn't be home herself. Still, it looked like it was time for me to go. And I had to find out what on earth had happened to Wanda.

She was home – and in tears. She leapt at me the minute I let myself in the front door.

‘Where have you
been
, India? I didn't know what to do. I've driven round and round looking for you. I've phoned your dad. He's on his way back from work.'

‘You didn't phone Mum, did you?'

‘Not yet. I was wondering if I ought to have phoned the
police
. I was sure you'd gone missing.'

‘
You
were the one who went missing,' I insisted, staring her straight in the eyes. She'd been crying so much her eyes were pink, like a white rabbit. Did she care about me that much?

‘What do you mean?' she said, flustered.

‘You weren't there when I came out of school. I waited and waited.'

‘I was there the usual time. Well, I might have been a
minute
late. The traffic was really bad.'

‘A minute! Do you think I'm daft, Wanda? I've got a watch. I waited
fifteen
minutes.'

‘Don't tell your father that, please!' Wanda begged.

She didn't really mind about me one bit. She was just scared she was going to get into trouble and maybe lose her job.

‘It's true though, isn't it?' I said.

‘Maybe I was five minutes late – but I'm sure it couldn't have been more than that. I fell asleep. I wasn't even on my bed, I was sitting at the kitchen table and I just nodded off. Mrs Winslow just
left
me there. Can you imagine anyone so mean? She just doesn't like me. No-one likes me.'

Wanda started crying again. I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. I put my arms round her.

‘Don't cry, Wanda. It's OK. Look,
I
like you.'

‘Your mother hates me. She said the most terrible things to me last night. She says I'm totally useless—'

‘She thinks I'm useless too, she thinks everyone is. Never mind her. Look, my dad likes you.'

‘Does he? Does he
really
? What has he said?'

Wanda was suddenly peering eagerly at me out of her long dark hair, tears still rolling down her cheeks. I felt hurt. She didn't seem to care one way or the other when I said
I
liked her.

I took my arms away. ‘Oh, I don't know. I'm not sure he's actually
said
anything – but of course he likes you.' She looked so pathetically pleased I couldn't help adding spitefully, ‘He's liked
all
our au pairs.'

That made her droop again.

‘But maybe I won't tell him you were at
least
fifteen minutes late,' I said.

Wanda looked hopeful.

‘I promise I won't do it to you again, India. I was just so
tired
. I'm not sleeping properly at night. It's awful, I just toss and turn.'

She did look tired out. The dark smudges under her eyes weren't just her eye make-up.

‘Yeah, OK, I'll make out I just waited a minute or two, right? Only maybe you can do something for me in return?'

‘You mean chocolate? OK,' said Wanda eagerly.

‘No, I mean a bit more than chocolate, actually. Look, it's a little bit mad your coming to meet me after school all the time. It's so babyish. And you've got other things to do – like sleep.'

‘India, I slept
once
.'

‘So why don't we have an arrangement? I'll come home from school by myself. I promise I'll always be home long before Dad or Mum gets back. OK?'

‘No, of course it's not OK! What are you up to, India? Where did you go today?'

‘Well . . . this odd guy was waiting outside the school and he asked if I wanted to go off and buy some sweets with him—' I burst out laughing at the
expression
on Wanda's face. ‘
Joke
, Wanda!'

‘You
didn't
go off with any guy?'

‘Of course not! No, I went and played round at my friend's place.' The word ‘friend' tasted like honey on my tongue.

‘You've got a
friend
, India?'

I felt insulted but I needed Wanda on my side so I didn't over-react.

‘Tell me all about her,' Wanda said. She fixed me a cup of hot chocolate with extra whipped cream on top. I was still full from Rita's scrummy fry-up but I can't ever resist hot chocolate. Wanda said she didn't fancy one herself, she was feeling a bit queasy. She kept me company while I licked and sipped and told her all about Treasure.

I didn't tell her the
truth
of course. Wanda isn't snobby like Mum and Dad but she might get a bit fussed if she knew I had a friend on the Latimer Estate. I called Treasure by her own favourite name Tiffany and I pretended she was in my class at school. I said she had a fantastic grandma – I turned her into an ex-ballet dancer who now works in the arts. I am very skilled at lying when I want to be.

Wanda is lousy at it. Dad arrived home in a right state but when he saw me he hugged me tight as tight, even picking me up and whirling me round like he did when I was little. It was so great to have him back being
Dad
again. I felt I could whirl right up to the ceiling and revolve around the trendy lily light-fittings all by myself.

But then Dad sat me down and turned to Wanda. He asked her why the whatsit she hadn't met me from school. Wanda blushed a painful meat-red and said she'd only been a little bit late, maybe a minute, but it was obvious she was fibbing. I had to butt in quickly and tell Dad it was all my fault – I'd gone dashing off with this new friend of mine and it had been very thoughtless of me and I wouldn't ever worry poor Wanda again.

‘Never mind Wanda. You're not to worry
me
, oh Special Exotic Continent,' Dad said – another pet name he hasn't used for
ages
.

Then we had the most beautiful time together, Dad and Wanda and me. We watched children's telly, Dad imitating half the people until we were in stitches. Then Dad said he was peckish and didn't want to wait for dinner so he went out for a pizza –
each!

Wanda only ate a weeny slice of hers so I ate the rest, gobbling quickly in case Mum came home early and created a drama about my mega-calorie consumption. But she came home even later than usual, long after I'd gone to bed, because there was some boring crisis about her new baby range (the weeniest little brushed denim black-and-white striped dungarees with black sweatshirts and black pull-on booties and little black fleece jackets with hoods. I wanted Mum to give me an outfit for my old teddy Edwina but she raised her eyebrows and sighed as if it was hugely embarrassing having a great lump of a daughter still playing with
teddies
so I didn't pursue it and Edwina's
still
in her bobbly pink cardi and a droopy yellow dress that clashes with her fur).

It was great that Mum was late because
Dad
came to tuck me up when I went to bed. He was still in his lovely good mood. He gave me a kiss on each ear and one on my nose. He kissed Edwina's one ear and nose too. Then he cuddled us both and said, ‘Night night, Sleep tight, Don't let the
bears
bite' and he made Edwina attack me with her little sewn smile.

It's just like the old days. I'm
sooooo
happy. Dad still loves me lots and lots. Wanda and I have our special secret pact. And
I've got a best friend!

It's
not
like the old days. Something's going on between Dad and Wanda! I woke up early this morning. I heard Mum slamming the front door. She always goes really early, fitting in a jog before work. I lay in bed having a happy doze with Edwina. I heard Wanda going downstairs, her teddy-bear slippers going
slop-slop
. She started talking to Dad down in the kitchen. I couldn't hear a word they were saying but I could tell something was wrong. Wanda's voice went
drone drone drone
and then Dad's voice went
buzz buzz buzz
.

I wondered if Wanda had decided to come clean with Dad and tell him the truth about last night. I shot downstairs in my pyjamas to see if I could salvage the situation. They both jumped when they saw me. Wanda was in
her
pyjamas too, well, her vest-top and shorts with a Little Miss Happiness motif. Wanda
looked
like Little Miss Total Gloom and Despair, her eyes brimming with tears.

‘Please don't be cross with Wanda, Dad. It's all my fault,' I said.

Dad stared at me. Wanda stared at me. I realized they didn't have a clue what I was talking about. They seemed to be discussing something else entirely. It was so weird. Dad was angry and Wanda was upset but I think they were holding hands! They sprang apart the moment they saw me so I can't be sure, but whenever I replay that scene in my head I see their hands, Dad's big pink fingers clasping Wanda's white fists.

Which means . . .

I don't want to think about it. Dad and
Wanda
? He doesn't even like her, I know he doesn't.

He doesn't seem to like me either now. He told me to go upstairs and put some clothes on at once yet there was Wanda in her night things showing heaps more of herself than me. However, I tried very hard indeed not to let it get me down. I am determined not to care about Dad any more. I don't care about Wanda either. They can have as many secrets as they want. I've got
my
secret, my special new friend Treasure.

I told Wanda on the way to school that I was going to come home by myself, just as we'd arranged. She nodded vaguely. It was as if she was plugged into an invisible Walkman, listening to something playing over and over inside her head.

It was not a good day at school. I was last to be
picked
for Netball which was totally humiliating. I didn't have anyone to sit with at lunchtime and I'd finished my book (
Zlata's Diary
– but she's not a patch on Anne) so I simply stared into space, pretending I was perfectly content with my own company.

Then in Circle Time we started this discussion about delinquency. Maria and Alice and some of the others were going on and on about yobs on tough estates and how they stole stuff to feed their drug habits and set fire to dustbins and beat up old ladies. I sat there, feeling my face flame as fiery as my hair. Mrs Gibbs said I was uncharacteristically quiet. Did I not have a view on delinquency? So I gave them my view – a panoramic one.

I gave an impassioned speech about Class and Opportunity and the so-called Welfare State (I didn't quite know what I
meant
but it sounded good). Then I talked about the Latimer Estate and how there were lovely, kind, funny, gentle, hospitable people living there,
not
like some posh-nob people who prided themselves on their manners.

There was total silence when I stopped speaking. I found I was panting, as if I'd just run a race. Mrs Gibbs was breathing a little heavily too. ‘Well, that's certainly one point of view, India,' she said. ‘Does anyone want to take issue with anything India's said?'