Free Mimi by John Newman Page B

made!”
    So I drank my soup. Granny and Grandad just sat and watched me. It isn’t easy to drink soup when you are being watched. When I slurped it seemed very loud, and soup kept dribbling down my chin. Granny handed me a napkin. I just wished they would behave normally and fuss about. The silence seemed to stretch on and on like an elastic band until I was sure that it would snap. I could even hear a door closing next door. It was weird.
    “How was school?” asked Grandad in the end.
    “OK,” I answered, and then it was silent again.
    So I was really glad when my phone beeped. Granny and Grandad jumped.
    “Is that Sally?” said Granny before I could even get the phone out of my pocket.
    But it wasn’t. It was Orla. I heard bt Sal. B der in an hr.
    “Read it out,” said Granny.
    “Only if you want to,” added Grandad.
    Well, I didn’t mind. “It’s from Orla. She’s heard about Sally and she’s coming over in an hour. I don’t know why.”
    “Oh, is that all,” said Granny, sounding disappointed.
    “It’s nice of her,” said Grandad. “You know who your friends are when you have troubles.” He squeezed my shoulder.
    Then the key turned in the front door and we all jumped up. It was Dad and Aunt B. and Aunt M. They didn’t look very cheerful.
    Dad slumped onto a chair. “Hi, Mimi,” he said, and held out his hand to me. I went over to him and he curled his arm around me and gave me a little hug, and I can’t explain why but that made me feel like crying again. But I didn’t this time. Aunt M. was talking.
    “So I spoke to Tara Sinclair, Sally’s friend, and she gave me the names of some of her other friends, and I’ve spoken to them too and Sally hasn’t been in touch with any of them. They had no idea where she might be, but I gave them my number and if they hear anything they’ll be in touch straightaway. It seems she has turned off her phone, or maybe the battery is dead. Is it time we called the police?”
    I could feel Dad stiffening when she said that.
    “I think we should, Paul,” said Aunt B.
    I remember when the policeman came to our house after Mammy had been run over. He had his cap in his hand and he looked really uncomfortable. I didn’t know why he was there. I thought maybe Conor had done something wrong, but Dad just went white and stood back to let the policeman come in. Then he said he had some very bad news about Poppy, and Dad just sort of fell into the armchair and covered his face with his hands and cried, “No, no.” Then the policeman put his hand on Dad’s shoulder and said that there had been an accident — and that was the worst day of my life.
    “I don’t want you to tell the policeman,” I whimpered.
    “I think we have to,” said Dad.
    “Just wait,” I cried. And I pulled out of his arm and ran out of the room and up the stairs and into Sally’s room.
    Suddenly I knew what I had to do. I knew my sister, and I knew what she would do! So I pulled up her mattress, and without taking one bit of care I pulled out her diary. Then I sat on the floor and flicked through it to the last page of writing, and I was right.

Dear Mimi,

I just knew you were the spy! And I was right wasn’t I?
    “How did she guess?” I asked the diary out loud, but of course I got no answer.
    So now you know my terrible secret and I suppose you hate me too.
    “No, I don’t!” I told the diary.
    I’m a thief. I steal stuff from nice lovely kind Mrs. Lemon of all people. I don’t even know why I do it. Since Mammy died I sometimes feel so bad and then I take something and that makes me feel better for a while, but then I feel worse than ever and I will surely end up in jail and that will serve me right.
    But at least I don’t read other people’s diaries, Mimi. Ha!
    “It’s not as bad as stealing!” I said crossly, because I did feel bad about it but I wasn’t going to admit it to Sally. Not that she could hear me.
    I’m just teasing you, Mimi! You are my favorite