The Secret Page 13
She stood by the bed, looking down at the money in his hand. ‘We could have some chips, I suppose,’ she conceded, at last.
‘You have them. You have them all.’
‘Don’t be silly. We’ll have them with the chicken. Presently. When I had a little rest.’ She lay beside him on Mum’s bed, and closed her eyes.
‘Nicky. . . .’
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry I kept the money.’
‘It’s all right.’
‘I’m not going to do anything like that, ever again.’
‘All right, all right, you don’t have to go on about it.’
‘Nicky.’
‘I’m having a rest!’
‘Can I just say one thing?’
‘All right then, just one thing.’
‘. . . What will it be like in the children’s home?’
‘Quite good, I expect.’
‘You said it would be horrible.’
‘No I didn’t. I never said it would be horrible. I said Mum thought it was horrible. . . . That was a long time ago, it’s different in children’s homes now. I expect.’
‘You said I wouldn’t like it.’
‘Well I changed my mind. I expect you will like it very much, and so will I.’
‘Nicky. . . .?’
‘What now?’
‘Will we be in the same children’s home, you and me?’
‘Of course.’
‘Suppose they put us in a different one to each other?’
‘I won’t let them.’
‘Do you promise?’
‘Yes. . . . Can I go to sleep now?’ She was still for a while, then fidgetty. ‘Roy. . . .?’
‘What?’
‘I can’t go to sleep. It’s funny, isn’t it, I’m so tired and I can’t go to sleep! It’s like I’m still running, and I keep on seeing buses and things, in my head. Don’t you think that’s funny?’ She climbed off the bed and went to the window. Bedraggled and grubby from the day’s adventures, together the children looked out at a threatening world.
Nicky did fall asleep later though, right in the middle of the meal. They were eating it out of their laps, because Nicky was too tired to sit up to the table properly, and Nicky fell asleep on the sofa, with one chip halfway to her mouth. Her head lolled awkwardly, and the food slid from her lap, to make yet another greasy stain on the shabby carpet.
Nicky’s head dropped to Roy’s shoulder. She was heavy against him, and he wriggled sideways, easing her head right down on to the sofa. He stood up, his chips in his hands, and looked at Nicky lying there; fast asleep, worn out with looking for him. Her head was still at an awkward angle. Unaccustomed to bothering about someone else’s comfort, Roy pondered a moment, unsure what to do. Then he went upstairs and fetched a pillow from Nicky’s bed. He lifted her head quite gently, and put the pillow underneath, and stood back to see if she looked more comfortable now. She shivered suddenly, in her sleep, and Roy went upstairs again to fetch a blanket. He lifted Nicky’s feet on to the sofa, and covered her with the blanket. The clothes she wore were the same ones she had worn in the rain, and still damp, and Roy wasn’t sure if he ought to try to get any of them off. But he didn’t want to wake her, and anyway she wasn’t shivering any more, so perhaps she was warm enough now.
He tucked the blanket round her, and it felt good doing that.
He finished his supper at the table, and went back to tuck the blanket round Nicky again, and it felt good.
He went upstairs, and changed into his pyjamas and got into bed. Then he got out again and went downstairs to see if Nicky was still covered up. He pulled the blanket a tiny bit higher round her shoulders, and tucked it under her a bit more.
And he felt good!
She came into his room, early in the morning. ‘Wake up! I want to talk to you.’
But Roy didn’t want to wake up. It was nice being asleep, and he was having nice dreams for once. ‘Leave me!’ he grumbled.
‘I’m all stiff,’ said Nicky, cheerfully. ‘And I’ve got all bruises. Look at my bruises, Roy!’
‘I think I’ve got bruises too. All down my leg.’
‘Let’s look at each other’s bruises, and see who’s got the biggest.’
‘Later,’ said Roy.
‘Now!’ said Nicky.
‘It was a bad idea to go to that station,’ said Roy into his pillow. ‘I don’t ever want to go to that station again. ‘I don’t ever want to go to any station again.’
‘I know, I know. . . . This idea is not about a station!’
Roy turned over, and opened his eyes. ‘What idea?’ he said, suspiciously.
‘Oh good! You’ve properly woke up!’
‘What idea?’
‘My new one. That I thought of in the night.’
‘What did you think of in the night?’ said Roy, not at all sure he wanted to hear the answer.
‘We-e-ll, you know Sonia—’
‘What about Sonia?’
‘You know what she said. The other day.’
‘No,’ said Roy. ‘What?’
‘About Southbourne. Where Mum is. Sonia said it is quite near to Easthaven!’
‘So?’
‘So we’re going to Easthaven! All of us. Tomorrow!’
He began to see what she was getting at, and there was a nasty sinking feeling, in his stomach. ‘I know what you’re going to say.’
‘What? What am I going to say?’
‘You’re going to say we have to run away from the outing, and go to Southbourne to find Mum.’
‘Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’
‘I don’t want to do it,’ said Roy.
‘I thought you’d say that.’
‘I don’t want to do any more of your good ideas. I don’t like your good ideas!’
‘Do you want to go in the children’s home then?’
‘I thought we decided it yesterday. I thought it was going to be all right. You said it would be all right.’
‘I changed my mind again. I think it’s going to be horrible after all, and you won’t like it one little bit.’
He had thought it was settled. He even didn’t mind too much, yesterday, about the children’s home. Now Nicky was frightening him, and muddling him, and turning everything upside down again. ‘I don’t want to do your ideas! I don’t want to get in trouble! I don’t want to get lost!’
‘I won’t let you get lost. I’ll look after you, I promise.’
‘I don’t want to get in trouble, then.’
‘Well you won’t get in trouble! Tell me how you can get in trouble. We won’t go on any trains again. We won’t go on any stations.’
‘Mr Nelson will be angry with us. And Mrs Blake.’
‘Mum will make that all right when we find her. Everything will come right, when we find Mum. Everything . . . I think so, anyway.’
‘I don’t like your ideas, though. They don’t work properly. . . . All right, what will we do then, when we get to Southbourne?’
‘Well, look for Mum, of course, to stop her getting in trouble. Though I’m not sure she still deserves it, for staying away so long.’
‘We can’t do it anyway,’ said Roy, suddenly.
‘Why not?’
‘Because you aren’t going on the outing. Don’t you remember? You beat up Gary, don’t you remember, Nicky? So Mr Nelson said you couldn’t go.’
‘That’s nothing,’ said Nicky. ‘You don’t think I would let a little thing like that stop me, do you? I’ll ask Mr Nelson to change his mind. Mr Nelson is a kind headmaster, I think he will give me another chance.’
‘All right, I know something else! What about the letter Mr Nelson wrote? He’ll expect Mum to answer the letter. He’ll expect Mum to come to school. Today.’
‘I’ll think of a story.’
‘And Mr Nelson won’t like it because we bunked off school yesterday.’
‘I’ll tell him I was ill. No – I’ll tell him Mum was ill. And you.’<
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‘You’re always telling people Mum is ill. They won’t believe it, if you keep on saying it so many times.’
‘Can you think of a better story then? See? You can’t! Anyway, I already said it to Mrs Williams. I said you and Mum both got the ’flu. It’s a very good excuse indeed. I think so, anyway. I’m going to say you and Mum are ill, and I stayed home to look after you, so there!’
Roy was silent, twisting his fingers.
‘So what about tomorrow? Are you coming with me, like I said?’
‘I suppose I shall have to.’
‘Don’t strain yourself to sound enthusiastic!’
He turned away from her, struggling with his apprehension.
‘You will be pleased this time, Roy. Everything will go right this time, I just know. . . . You don’t believe me, do you?’
Roy shrugged.
‘And there’s one more good thing for you,’ said Nicky, ‘you will have to stay home from school today.’
‘What!’
‘You will have to stay home from school. To make it real about the ’flu.’
‘I don’t want to!’ he wailed.
‘What’s the matter, I thought you’d be pleased! You don’t like school, you know you don’t!’
‘It’s lonely by myself.’ He had felt so good when he awoke, and now he felt miserable again.
‘Well, get busy at something,’ said Nicky. ‘To make the time go by.’
‘I don’t want to get busy. I don’t want to stay home from school. You always make me do things I don’t like.’
‘Oh, bad luck!’ Her harshness brought the tears to his eyes, and his shoulders began to quiver. ‘Cheer up, Roy,’ she said in a softer tone. ‘I will look after you, you know. I won’t let anything bad happen to you this time. It will be good this time, you’ll see. I just know!’
‘How are we going to get there though, Nicky? The bit from Easthaven to Southbourne. How are we going to get there?’ Surely she would see now that her plan was hard, and mad, and impossible!
‘I think it might be near enough to walk,’ said Nicky.
11
Will he or won’t he?
NICKY WENT STRAIGHT into school and up to Mr Nelson’s office. ‘Good morning, Mr Nelson, how is your arthritis today?’
‘Good morning, Nicky. Bad, thank you very much.’
‘And your other things, that I forget what they’re called?’
‘How about coming to the point?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Well?’
‘Will you let me off, Sir? Please!’
‘Isn’t your mother coming to see me today?’
‘She can’t, actually, she’s ill.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘She’s got the ’flu. It’s a special ’flu you have in July. Roy’s got it as well. That’s why I was away yesterday, Sir – I had to look after them both. It was very hard work, and I had to walk about a lot, and I had to go and get their medicine, and it was a very long way because the first chemist didn’t have it. And the second chemist didn’t have it neither. And I got a blister on my foot, so now you and me are the same as each other!’
‘And I’m supposed to let you off because we’ve both got gammy legs?’
‘No, Sir, not that.’
‘Go on, I’m listening.’
‘Well, Sir, it was me done the wrong things on Friday, wasn’t it?’
‘Indeed it was.’
‘So it’s not fair if Roy has to be punished.’
‘How is Roy going to be punished?’
‘Mum says Roy can’t go on the outing if I don’t.’
‘Oh, Nicky, really!’
‘I know what you’re thinking, Sir. You’re thinking about I make a baby of him, but it’s not that. It’s about he’s not well, and I got to keep an eye on him.’
‘Are you sure he’s well enough to go anyway?’
‘Oh yes, Sir, he’s at home today, but he will be well enough to go tomorrow, the doctor said. And the doctor said it will do him so much good to go to the seaside. But he can’t go unless I do.’
‘H’m!’
Mr Nelson did not know what to make of this tarradiddle about the ’flu you get in July. The stories children offered were not always strictly true, but who had the right to judge that? And Mr Nelson was glad of any excuse, really, to give Nicky another chance.
‘I’ll tell you what.’
‘Yes, Sir?’
‘Suppose you were to be perfect for a whole day? I’m only supposing, mind, I don’t imagine for a moment you can really do it!’
‘Want to bet?’
‘I don’t mean ordinary good, I mean extra specially good.’
‘I shall be like a angel!’ said Nicky, with a joyous face.
‘Gary and Sanjay will have to have the same chance, of course.’
‘That’s all right, Mr Nelson, I don’t mind,’ said Nicky, generously. ‘I don’t mind how many creeps go on the outing, as long as me and Roy can go.’
In Assembly, Mr Nelson talked to the school about going to Easthaven. They had been looking forward to it, he knew, and so had all the teachers, and now the great day had nearly come! The weather forecast was hopeful, he was glad to tell them, in spite of yesterday’s rain, but they must all remember their warm clothes, just in case, and their packed lunches, of course.
Just one serious thing he had to say, and they must all listen to it very carefully. Some of them didn’t go to the seaside very often, he knew – perhaps some of them had never been before. So they might not know that you have to treat the sea with respect. There could be dangers; they must all be quite sure to stay with their teachers and their groups, and not wander. Then everyone could have a happy day, and come back safely.
In the classroom, Nicky turned the pages of the big atlas. ‘Come on, Nicky,’ said Mr Hunt. ‘Maths time!’
‘In a minute.’
‘Now!’ said Mr Hunt.
‘Oh yes, Sir, yes, Sir!’ Nicky scuttled back to her seat. She had nearly found what she was looking for, and she had to leave it in order to be perfect! She began to work ostentatiously, hunching over her book, and screwing up her face to show how hard she was concentrating. ‘Have you noticed how good I’m being, Sir?’
‘Was I supposed to?’
‘Yes. Will you tell Mr Nelson I’m being good?’
‘Oh I don’t know about that,’ said Mr Hunt. ‘Mr Nelson wouldn’t be specially interested, would he? Do you really think Mr Nelson would be interested?’
‘Oh, Sir!’ said Nicky. ‘You’re teasing me.’
‘We should have outings more often,’ said Mr Hunt, marking Nicky’s work.
‘Can I look at the atlas now, Sir?’ said Nicky.
‘Why the sudden passion for maps?’
‘I want to see where we’re going, tomorrow.’
‘Where the rest of us are going, you mean. Where you may be going, I understand, if you can manage to achieve the impossible.’
‘Oh, Sir!’
She opened the heavy book, and found the map of England. There it was, there it was – Easthaven! . . . And there it was! Almost touching! Only a titchy-witchy centimetre away. You could walk that easy, just like she said to Roy. A brilliant idea began to form, in her mind.
‘You look happy,’ said Mr Hunt.
‘I’m extremely happy,’ said Nicky.
‘Is the sea really dangerous, Sir, like Mr Nelson said?’ said Joycelyn.
‘No, no,’ said Mr Hunt. ‘Mr Nelson just said that for fun. Just to fill up the Assembly time.’
‘Oh, Sir!’
‘Anyway, what does it matter? A few lost, a few drowned, what’s the difference?’ That was Miss Powell’s joke, not his, but Mr Hunt was often too lazy to make up his own jokes.
‘You don’t mean it, Sir!’
‘Every word of it. . . . Come on – playtime! Books away, chop, chop!’
‘You didn’t tell us yet. Why the sea is dangerous.’
By now the whole class knew about the second chance Nicky had been given, and the terms of it, and some of the boys thought it might be fun to tease her a bit. And safe, today, since she couldn’t do anything back.
‘Pity if we got to have you in the coach, after all!’
‘Get lost!’ said Nicky.
‘Pity if we got to listen to you singing!’
‘Yeah, give us all a pain!’
‘Make the driver crash!’
‘I can sing if I want to, so bad luck!’
Marcus came close, and pushed his heavy face near to hers, and blew down her neck.
‘Push off!’
Marcus danced about, taunting her. ‘Come on then, make me, make me!’ He got behind her and blew again.
‘Leave me!’
Good – she was getting angry. They all began blowing then, as many as could get close enough; until Mrs Blake, on duty that morning, came striding on her spindly legs and shooed them off.
‘I didn’t hit them,’ Nicky pointed out.
‘Well done!’ said Mrs Blake, who had also heard about the second chance.
‘Did you notice, Mrs Blake, I didn’t hit any of them!’
‘Yes, I did notice. Well done!’
‘Will you tell Mr Nelson?’
‘I shouldn’t be a bit surprised.’
Nicky sat on the steps, feeling very pleased with herself. Two good reports, anyway. But ordinary good wasn’t enough, Mr Nelson said, it had to be extra specially good to count. What could she find to do, that was extra specially good? Helping the teachers would count like that, wouldn’t it?
After eating the school dinner for which she had not paid, Nicky lurked outside the staff room. Miss Powell emerged soon, carrying a pile of books. ‘Shall I carry them for you, Miss?’ said Nicky.
‘What are you doing in school?’ snapped Miss Powell. ‘You’re supposed to be in the playground.’
‘I want to help,’ said Nicky.
‘OUT!’ said Miss Powell, who had heard about the second chance but wasn’t interested.
‘Can’t I ask in the staff room,’ said Nicky, ‘if anyone wants me to help?’
‘There’s only Mr Hunt in the staff room.’
‘Where are the other teachers?’
‘For heaven’s sake, how should I know? In their classrooms, I suppose.’