‘I’m not sure Jemma should see it,’ she says. ‘It might upset her.’
‘She’s fourteen,’ says Dad. ‘I bet she’d be interested to see it, wouldn’t you, Jemma?’ He turns to me and back to Mum. ‘It’s not as if she hasn’t heard us all talk about it.’
I wish I could hug Dad.
Mum still looks uncertain. She glances from Dad to me and back again.
Please!
‘All right, then,’ says Mum. ‘Hopefully I’ll be back in time, but if not you’ll have to fill me in.’
When it starts, I’m disappointed that Sarah isn’t here – but Dad calls her, and she brings a basket of washing in with her to fold, and sits on the armchair.
Mum gets back just as they start showing Ryan’s case and she hurries in, still in her coat.
‘Put on two pounds,’ she sighs, and I hear the sofa creak as she sits down next to Dad.
‘Four weeks ago,’ the presenter says, ‘nineteen-year-old Ryan Blake was brutally stabbed to death in Walden Cross. The culprit and motive remain a mystery. Witnesses have helped to make the reconstruction that you are about to see.’
They show actors, including one I can clearly see is meant to be Ryan, drinking in a local pub, the Hare and Hound. Then Ryan and his friends leave and gradually split up until Ryan is left with one friend, who then heads off for home. Instead of going home himself, Ryan doubles back. No one knows why he did this. He heads down a side street, though they’re not sure which one he actually went down – and comes out somewhere behind the station.
That was where his body was found.
‘Did you see Ryan in Warduff Street or Mackenzie Avenue between 11 p.m. and midnight?’ the presenter asks. ‘A man in a black jacket was seen walking along Mackenzie Street just before 11 p.m. This man has not yet been identified. Are you that man or did you also see him that night?’
I try to think like Poirot. I’ve listened to loads of Agatha Christie audiobooks that Mum’s aunt gave me. I need to be observant – to have an eye for anything that might be a clue, even if it seems unlikely. Everyone is a suspect in Agatha Christie. Ryan’s friends seem like a dodgy bunch. Maybe the last friend he was with didn’t go home. Maybe he doubled back too. Perhaps Ryan had lied to him – or one of the others, or ripped them off. But there isn’t much to go on to work out a motive.
What about the man in the black jacket? Dan has a black jacket, but it’s a bit different to the one they showed.
Suddenly I remember Graeme – Ryan’s dad – sitting in our kitchen. His jacket looked like the one on the programme. Graeme? Is it possible? Could he have got so fed up with Ryan that he lost his temper and killed him? One of the crime books I listened to said most people are killed by members of their families. And in Agatha Christie it’s often the quiet ones you have to watch. But Graeme? Murder his own son? It’s easier to believe that Dan did it. I’ve seen what he can be like – even though no one else has.
I want to see Sarah’s reaction, but I’m facing the telly. I wish she’d say something.
‘Police say the alley behind the station is known to be used by drug dealers,’ the presenter continues, ‘but no drugs were found in Ryan’s blood.’ They mention that the knife used hasn’t been found and they give the number for people to call.
‘Right, Jemma,’ says Mum. For a moment I imagine her keying in the number and handing me the phone so I can tell them what Dan said. But of course, she’s just telling me that it’s time for me to go to bed.
Sarah wheels me out as Crimewatch moves on to a series of armed burglaries in Dartford.
8
‘Listen, pet, I’ve got something to tell you,’ Mum says the next evening.
I’m all ears – wondering if it’s to do with Crimewatch. No one’s mentioned it since yesterday and I’ve been waiting for news. Did anyone call the programme? Do the police have any new leads?
Then I wonder if it’s Jodi. Has she written again?
‘You remember I told you about Carlstone College?’ Mum says. ‘I’ve arranged for us to go up there next week.’
My mind whirls – this is so far from what I was thinking about. Carlstone College. When Mum talked about it before, she said I might go there when I’m older – not now. Has she changed her mind?
‘They have a communications expert coming,’ Mum tells me. ‘Professor Spalding. It’s a meeting for any interested families – even those whose children aren’t at the college. I can’t make any promises – but maybe he’ll be able to help you. And we can have a look around too, just to see what it’s like.’
A while ago they showed me this leaflet for Carlstone. Mum said they had amazing facilities and might be able to help me much more than the school I’m at. I liked the sound of the college. I thought I might really enjoy it and they do loads more subjects there. Then Mum told me it’s a three-hour drive from here. I’d have to live there, like at a boarding school.
Mum said if I went there she and Dad would come and visit, and I’d be able to come home some weekends and in the school holidays. I was so relieved the next day when Mum said she thought I was too young, and maybe some time in the future we’d all go and have a look at it. But I thought that meant in a couple of years – not a couple of months.
And what about Sarah? If she came with me it wouldn’t be so bad, but I bet people don’t get to take their own carers. And she wouldn’t want to be three hours away from Dan, would she?
I try to focus on what Mum is saying about the communications expert. Hopefully our visit really is just about seeing this professor. But I can’t stop thinking that it might be something more. The worry is gnawing at my brain, joining the other worries and the questions I can never ask.
I feel myself withdrawing like a tortoise into a shell. Mum’s still talking, but I’m no longer listening.
When Sarah comes to fetch me for dinner she looks at me for a moment and frowns.
‘What’s up, Jem?’
I don’t know how she can tell that something’s wrong, but she can and I’m glad. Maybe my limbs are even stiffer than usual when she moves me. I certainly feel stiffer. Everything aches.
‘I hope you’re not coming down with something,’ she continues.
She looks into my eyes for clues. I wish they could give her some. She feels my brow, inspects my arms, legs and chest for rashes. Then she gets the ear thermometer and takes my temperature. Hopefully once she’s sussed I’m not ill, she’ll work out how unhappy I am.
Sarah wheels me into the kitchen. Everyone else is already at the table, but the cutlery is missing. Finn has removed it and lined it all up neatly on the floor against the wall – a row of forks, then knives, then spoons.
Dad shakes his head at Finn and sighs as he picks them up, and there is a delay while he washes them in the sink. He isn’t angry. He understands Finn.
‘Something’s wrong with Jemma,’ Sarah tells Mum.
I watch Mum’s face. Will she make the connection and realise that what she said before has got me worried?
‘Are you hungry?’ Mum asks me. ‘Sorry dinner’s a bit late.’
I’m not hungry. And now I feel sick at the thought of eating.
Sarah shakes her head. ‘It’s more than that.’
Mum shrugs rather dismissively, and then I wonder if maybe she doesn’t want Sarah to know about her plans, because Sarah will lose her job if I’m sent away.
Once the cutlery is washed and dried, Sarah spoons food into my mouth. I find it hard to swallow. Olivia knocks her cup over – I’m not sure if it is accidental or on purpose, but water spreads in a pool across the table and Dad’s ‘Oh, Olivia’ is enough to start her wailing theatrically. Dad tells her to calm down, which brings on a full-blown tantrum. My head is pounding now.
Mum and Dad are both fussing over Olivia. I scream inside my head sometimes – making the kind of noise she’s making now, but of course no one ever knows.
Sarah aims another spoonful into my mouth. I cough and splutter. I can’t stop cough
ing. I need a drink. Sarah is distracted, looking at Olivia, and I start to panic. I feel like I can’t breathe. It is a moment before she sits me forward in my wheelchair and pats me on the back. She holds the straw to my lips and looks from me to Mum as Olivia finally stops shrieking. ‘I told you something was wrong. I think she’s going down with something. I’ll sleep in her room tonight.’
No one understands. When I’m worried and I just want reassurance I have no way of getting it. Then my worries just grow and grow. Mum and Dad assume it’s something physical because it so often is, but all I want is to be able to tell them how I feel . . .
‘Thanks, Sarah,’ says Mum. ‘There’s a nasty fluey bug going round. I hope it isn’t that.’
Later, Sarah’s getting me ready for bed when her mobile rings.
‘It’s Dan. We haven’t spoken all week. I’d better answer,’ she says apologetically, ‘or he might think I’m avoiding him.’
She says hello, and then puts the phone on loudspeaker and leaves it on the bed, crouching to take off my socks. I hear Dan’s voice, as clear as if he’s in the room.
‘How was the film, babe?’
Sarah has taken off one of my socks and started on the other one. She stops, bites her lip and leans towards the phone. ‘Great,’ she chirps.
‘Really? What was so great about it?’ he asks.
‘Why do you care?’ Sarah asks. ‘It’s not your kind of film – you said so yourself.’
‘Just asking,’ he says.
There’s a pause. ‘Sorry,’ says Sarah, ‘I can’t chat now. I’m getting Jemma ready for bed. She’s not too well. I’ll call you later and tell you all about it, OK?’
‘Sure – speak later. Love you, babe!’
Sarah puts her phone in her pocket, then laughs. ‘I’ll have to look up some reviews online,’ she tells me. ‘I don’t even know who’s in it!’
9
‘Come on, Finn!’ Mum calls cheerfully as we reach the gate of the park.
When I woke up this morning I had this weird floaty feeling, like nothing in my life is real. I am apparently neither ill nor well. It doesn’t surprise me that my body’s behaving weirdly. All these thoughts have got to get out somehow. Sarah and Mum keep taking my temperature. ‘A bit under the weather’ is how Mum described me. We often go to the park on Saturdays and she said some fresh air might do me good.
‘We’ll go and see the ducks first,’ Mum tells Finn and Olivia.
If I could roll my eyes, I would. I liked being taken to see the ducks when I was six, but right now I’ve got other things on my mind. If we have to be here, I was hoping we were going to the park café. It’s at the top of the hill and I know it’s not easy to push me up there, but from the top you get a view right over the park. I like the feeling of being so high – on top of the world, looking down. From my wheelchair I so often feel low down, looking up at things.
Olivia skips ahead, Sarah’s pushing me, and Mum’s cajoling Finn – who is walking slowly, flapping his hand in front of his face. I think he likes the patterns of light it makes. Soon we reach the pond and we stop by the barrier, near a clump of early daffodils. I watch Olivia throw corn at the nearest ducks as if she’s trying to murder one. I’m sure she just said, ‘Yeah! Got it!’
Mum pushes corn into Finn’s hand and helps him aim, but the corn just drops on to the path. He isn’t really interested and starts to pull away towards the playground.
‘OK, Finn, just a minute,’ Mum tells him.
Sarah’s phone beeps. I bet it’s Dan texting her. I see her peeping at it when Mum’s not looking. I wish she’d tell me what he said.
When we’re in the playground, Sarah wheels me on to the wheelchair-accessible roundabout and pushes the bar gently so it begins to move, before she gets on and stands with me.
‘Just a gentle spin today, hey, Jemma?’
This roundabout is here because of my mum; she campaigned for it for years and I was so happy when it arrived. I used to like going fast. It’s not often I get to do anything fast. I’m too old for it now, though, and especially not today when my head is already spinning. At least Sarah moves it slowly.
‘I’ll push!’ Olivia says, running up.
‘Gently, Olivia,’ Sarah tells her. But she’s pushing too fast so I’m whirling even faster than the thoughts in my head. I want to stop. I want to get off. Now.
‘Olivia! Slow down!’ Sarah yells. She leaps off and brings it to a halt.
Olivia rushes away towards the climbing frame.
‘Sorry, Jemma! Are you OK?’ Sarah asks, touching my shoulder as she pulls the wheelchair off. I feel giddy and breathless. I want to go home. Sarah’s phone beeps with another message.
She parks me next to a bench where we can watch Finn on the swing. She turns me carefully to make sure the low sun isn’t in my eyes. The swing squeaks noisily. Finn would happily swing for an hour, maybe two, if he was allowed.
Sarah takes out her phone again and reads the new message. I wonder if she managed to convince Dan that she really went to the cinema.
Olivia runs round, going on everything. She demands that Mum watches her on the monkey bars and then on the climbing wall. She’s good at climbing as well as dancing.
I might definitely be too old for playgrounds, but I’d rather be here, with Mum and Sarah and Olivia and Finn, than packed off to some college.
I’m well wrapped in a warm coat and have a blanket over my knees, but I’m starting to feel cold. The fresh air is doing me no good at all, which is no surprise to me. I feel weak and muzzy-headed. The squeaking of the swing is hurting my ears.
Sarah looks up from her phone. ‘You’re very pale, Jemma.’
She goes over to Mum and asks if she can take me home.
Mum comes and looks at me and nods at Sarah. ‘Yes, you guys go – we won’t be far behind.’
Sarah pushes me along the pavement, past the local shops, the newsagent’s and the barber’s.
‘Oh, look! See that man coming out of the bookie’s?’ says Sarah. ‘I know him – it’s Billy.’
I’ve heard Sarah call that shop the bookie’s, though I’m not actually sure what they sell. I don’t think it’s books.
‘Hi, Billy!’ Sarah calls, as the man walks towards us. The man has his head down, but his shoulders jolt and he looks up sharply, then stops and smiles at her.
‘Sarah!’ he says. ‘You all right?’
Sarah’s mentioned Billy – he’s a friend of Dan’s. She said Dan calls him ‘Billy No Brains’ which sounded mean to me. Sarah just thought it was funny. My head’s really aching now. I hope she’s not going to have a long chat with him.
‘This is Jemma,’ Sarah tells him. ‘Jemma, this is Billy.’
Billy comes round in front of me and smiles at me too. He has a big head and his smile’s so wide it seems to take up most of his face. But he’s a friend of Dan’s, so I’m sure he can’t be that nice really.
‘Hi, Jemma. How ya doing?’ says Billy. He looks up at Sarah. ‘Dan’s well smitten, you know. He don’t say much, but I can tell!’
Sarah laughs. ‘Really?’
Thanks, Billy, I think crossly. I don’t need him telling her that. Come on, Sarah. Let’s go.
‘He’s a good bloke, you know. Takes care of his mates. Look, I gotta be off,’ says Billy. ‘Nice to see you.’
Good.
‘I’ve got to get Jemma home too,’ says Sarah. ‘She’s not well.’
‘Say hi to Dan from me,’ says Billy. ‘Hope you feel better, Jemma.’
10
At last we’re home and I’m glad to be inside in the warm. My worries slip away and my head feels better. I enjoy a peaceful five minutes in the lounge before I hear a wailing sound from outside. Mum’s key is in the door and the wailing gets louder.
‘Come on, inside,’ Mum is telling Olivia. I hear Finn run past and up the stairs. I think he finds Olivia’s tantrums as painful as I do.
‘It wasn’t my fault! That boy pushed in
front of me!’ Olivia blubs.
‘You didn’t have to hit him, though, did you?’ Mum says.
Olivia has thrown herself on the floor and is kicking and screaming at the top of her voice, while Mum tries to calm her down. I wish I could yell and kick like that.
Mum and Olivia eventually go upstairs and the screaming becomes more distant.
By dinner time Olivia’s calmed down. I’m still not hungry, though. Sarah realises this when the food she’s spooning into my mouth just sits there and doesn’t go down.
‘Oh, Jem, you’re really not well, are you? I’ll take your temperature again.’
I don’t have a high temperature, which she soon finds out. After dinner, she leaves me in the lounge with Olivia and Finn. They are changed, ready for bed and watching TV in their dressing gowns. They look cosy and cute, curled up either end of the sofa. It’s 101 Dalmations and I’m half watching too, though I’m not really interested. We’ve seen it loads of times.
Someone’s at the front door and I hear Dad go to open it.
And I hear Dan’s voice.
He’s here again.
‘I was just passing and I wondered if I could have a quick word with Sarah,’ Dan says. ‘It won’t take long, I promise.’
I wish Dad would just tell him to clear off.
‘I’ll call her,’ Dad says.
Dad leaves Dan waiting in the hall and goes to look for Sarah. But of course Dan doesn’t stay there. I hear his breathing as he comes into the living room. I will him to leave me alone.
‘Hiya, Jemma,’ he says.
Olivia jumps and looks up from the telly. Finn’s eyes stay firmly fixed on the screen, as if he’s heard nothing.
‘What are you doing here?’ Olivia asks Dan.
‘Just popped in to see Sarah,’ Dan tells her.
‘You’re always popping in,’ Olivia comments. ‘Do you love her?’
I laugh. It comes out as a snort.
I’m curious to see how Dan reacts.
He doesn’t answer straight away.
Then, ‘Yes, I love her,’ he says. He says it like he actually means it.
I Have No Secrets Page 3