Free Secrets by Nick Sharratt Page B

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.
    â€˜Yeah, OK, I’ll make out I just waited a minute or two, right? Only maybe you can do something for me in return?’
    â€˜You mean chocolate? OK,’ said Wanda eagerly.
    â€˜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.’
    â€˜India, I slept
once
.’
    â€˜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?’
    â€˜No, of course it’s not OK! What are you up to, India? Where did you go today?’
    â€˜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!’
    â€˜You
didn’t
go off with any guy?’
    â€˜Of course not! No, I went and played round at my friend’s place.’ The word ‘friend’ tasted like honey on my tongue.
    â€˜You’ve got a
friend
, India?’
    I felt insulted but I needed Wanda on my side so I didn’t over-react.
    â€˜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.
    â€˜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