Free Without Looking Back by Tabitha Suzuma Page B

thinking. It still felt like they had just arrived: the farmhouse was only beginning to feel comfortable and their bedrooms like proper bedrooms. It seemed crazy that they had gone to all this trouble making the place nice, only to have to leave it again. And who knew when, if ever, they would be allowed to come back? If Maman had her way . . .
    Millie stretched her arm across the table to rustleDad’s newspaper. ‘Oh, Dad, please can we stay . . .?’ she said, in a voice that had already accepted defeat but wanted to have a go anyway.
    ‘Yeah,’ Max chipped in. ‘School breaks up in three weeks. Can’t we just stay here for the summer?’
    Dad glanced up sharply. ‘Would you like to?’
    Max looked taken aback. ‘What?’
    ‘Stay,’ Dad said. ‘I dunno – an extra week perhaps . . .’
    ‘Really?’ Millie clapped her hands, her eyes bright.
    ‘Are you serious, Dad?’ Max looked disbelieving.
    Dad shrugged. ‘Why not? Missing the last bit of school won’t hurt—’
    ‘We can’t,’ Louis said.
    They all looked at him. ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because . . .’ He floundered for a moment. ‘Because we still have school, Max. I have two tests next week, and if I miss them I’ll get zero. And because you have football practice and Millie has art club and I have dance classes and I can’t miss them two weeks in a row—’
    ‘Oh, I might have guessed!’ Max rolled his eyes dramatically. ‘This is just because you’re worried if you miss your precious
ballet
lesson you won’t be top of the class any more—’
    ‘It’s got nothing to do with that!’ Louis suddenlyshouted. ‘You know very well that Maman’s not going to let us stay here for another whole week!’
    ‘Stop being such a baby!’
    ‘It’s called being realistic!’
    ‘OK, calm down, everyone,’ Dad said, folding the paper. ‘Let me speak to Mum and see what she says. I’m sure your teacher will understand if I write you a note, Louis. And wouldn’t it be good to spend a few more days in the farmhouse now that we’ve worked so hard at getting it nice?’
    ‘Oh yay!’ Millie cried. ‘Thank you, Daddy, thank you, Daddy, thank you, Daddy!’
    Max shot Louis a look across the table. It was a look that said,
Don’t you even
dare
try and protest
. And Louis felt that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. The feeling that something wasn’t right.
    That afternoon they had a very windy lakeside picnic and then Dad hired a bike from the village shop and they all went cycling. On the way home they picked up some DVDs and ate pizza in the living room in front of the TV. Halfway through the film, Dad came in, a big smile on his face. ‘I’ve spoken to Mum and managed to persuade her. She’s going to let the school know and so we’re all set for another week.’
    Millie turned round with her mouth open. ‘Is Maman on the phone? I want to speak to her!’
    ‘Not now, Millie,’ Dad replied. ‘She’s very busy at the moment.’
    That night, after Dad had sent them upstairs, Max lay fully clothed on his bed, playing with his GameBoy, while Louis kicked off his jeans and tried to throw them into the hamper on the other side of the room. Max suddenly said, ‘Why are you being so funny about staying here another week? Don’t you like this place or something?’ He didn’t look up from his GameBoy, but Louis could tell he wasn’t really paying that much attention to the game.
    ‘Of course I like it here,’ Louis said, pulling off his socks and sending them the same way as his jeans. ‘I just think it’s a bit strange, that’s all.’
    There was a silence. Then Max said, ‘Yeah. Me too.’
    Louis looked at him sharply, taken by surprise. Well, this
was
a revelation. Could it be that Max was feeling the same sense of unease at the way Dad had spoken to them about extending their holiday? The forced flippancy about missing school; the way his eyes had shied away . . .?
    ‘What d’you mean?’ Louis asked, cross-legged on his bed