Secrets and Dreams

by Jean Ure

  Fawn said, “What?” in a tone that didn’t strike me as particularly encouraging.

  An unworthy thought flitted through my brain. Suppose I didn’t say anything? Maybe Rachel would decide she didn’t like it at St With’s and would ask Auntie Helen if she could go somewhere else. It’s no good pretending I wasn’t tempted. Life would be so much easier without Rachel!

  “Did you want something?” said Fawn.

  I opened my mouth – and then promptly shut it again. Fawn wasn’t used to anyone challenging her. Not even Chantelle. She was going to be so angry! I could just hear her.

  If you’d rather be friends with Daffy than with us, feel free!

  And then what would I do?

  “Speak!” said Fawn.

  I was on the point of backing down. Again. It was only the sight of Rachel, sitting at a table on the far side of the refectory, sadly eating her teatime bread and jam all by herself, that gave me the courage to go on. I took a breath.

  “Can I talk to you about Rachel?” The words came spluttering out.

  Fawn raised her eyebrows. “Daffy?” she said. “What about her?”

  Already there was a hint of irritation in her voice.

  “Please, please, invite her to the wrap party!”

  “Why on earth would I do that?” said Fawn. She sounded genuinely surprised. That I should dare to ask!

  “Yes, why should she?” said Chantelle.

  Dodie and Tabs had both stopped eating. I could see their eyes darting to and fro across the table, from me to Fawn and back again.

  “Well?” said Fawn.

  I swallowed. Not bread and jam, but a lump in my throat.

  “She’s so unhappy and I think she’s been punished enough!”

  The eyes flicked back to Fawn. Even Chantelle was looking at her, waiting to see how she would react.

  “I’m not punishing her,” said Fawn. “I just don’t want anything to do with her. You can, if you want. No one’s stopping you; it’s your choice. Her or us. Up to you to decide.”

  My heart sank.

  “It’s not her fault,” I said.

  “Oh, will you just stop saying that?” Fawn thumped on the table with her fist. Heads all round turned to stare. “It’s all I ever hear … It’s not her fault, she can’t help it. I don’t care about her not being able to help it. I just care that she let us down.”

  “And why can’t she help it, anyway?” said Tabs.

  “Don’t.” Fawn jabbed a finger in the direction of Tabs’s face. Tabs recoiled, hastily. “Don’t ask! I don’t want to know. Just drop it, OK? She makes me so angry, I can’t tell you!”

  “Don’t need to tell us,” said Chantelle. “We can see for ourselves.”

  Fawn turned a furious gaze upon her. “Are you saying it doesn’t make you angry? All that work we did, and all for nothing?”

  “I was angry at the time,” said Chantelle. “I guess I’ve kind of got over it, now.”

  Fawn stared, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was her best friend, turning against her?

  “Are you saying we ought to just forget about it?”

  Chantelle shrugged.

  “Just invite her along like nothing ever happened?”

  “We can’t go on ignoring her for ever,” pleaded Dodie.

  Fawn spun round. “Why not?”

  “Well, because it … it wouldn’t be kind!”

  “Kind?” Fawn spluttered. “I don’t feel like being kind! She doesn’t deserve anyone being kind. Look, just shut up about her! I’ve had enough.”

  Chantelle caught my eye and pulled a face like, What can you do? I had this feeling that if it weren’t for Fawn, the others might be ready to forgive and forget, as my gran would say. But Fawn is one of those people, the more she feels under attack, the more she digs her heels in. She wasn’t ever going to budge. I suddenly had this vision of her mum and dad turning up on Friday in their massive great people carrier and the five of us joyfully bundling into it, leaving Rachel to make her solitary way home. Back to that dark, spooky flat, and the creepy old grandmother lurking in the corner like a spider in its web.

  I’d never be able to enjoy myself! I’d be thinking of Rachel the whole time. Determinedly, I crammed my last piece of bread and jam into my mouth and pushed back my chair. There was only one thing for it. I’d tried tackling Fawn and it hadn’t worked. Now it was up to me. As Fawn had said, it was my choice.

  “Her or us. Up to you to decide.”

  There wasn’t really any decision to be made. Sometimes it’s just blindingly obvious what you have to do. I had to tell Rachel that I wasn’t going to the wrap party after all. I’d make some excuse, like it was all a bit too grand, what with Fawn’s dad being some big-shot businessman and her mum having her photo taken at Ascot in a big stupid hat with feathers all over it. I’d tell her I wasn’t used to that sort of thing, which of course I wasn’t. It would have been interesting, and Mum would have loved to hear about it, but on the other hand it would only upset Dad, so maybe just as well if I wasn’t there. I’d probably make an idiot of myself, anyway. Me and my overweening confidence. I’d be bound to open my mouth and say something stupid.

  Quickly, before my resolve could falter, I swore this sacred oath: You will tell Rachel you are not going. Instead, I decided, I would invite her back for a sleepover. Apart from anything else, I owed her. And maybe, if I could just stop brooding over all the fun that I was missing, I would even quite enjoy it. What was more important was that Rachel would enjoy it. I would make sure that she did!

  It wasn’t till almost suppertime that I saw her. She’d disappeared immediately after tea and I hadn’t been able to look for her, as I’d promised Dodie I’d help put the finishing touches to the mask she’d made for my part as Bottom. We were on our way back to the common room for the last fifteen minutes before the supper bell when Rachel appeared. I was about to drag her off, saying I wanted to ask her something, when to my surprise Fawn suddenly elbowed her way past me.

  “Daffy,” she said, “we need to talk.”

  I could see Rachel flinch. She obviously thought Fawn was going to have a go at her. I have to say that I did too.

  “Listen,” said Fawn, “you know we’re having a wrap party on Friday, after the performance?”

  Rachel nodded, nervously.

  “I’ve been trying to think of a way to include you, cos it would be so much nicer if we were all in it. I know you don’t want to act, but I was wondering … I don’t suppose you could do the introduction for us? Just say a few words? It wouldn’t be acting! Look, I’ve written something down. Shall I read it to you? The Daisies are proud to present a scene from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream recreated by Fawn Grainger, who plays the part of Titania. Oberon is played by Chantelle Adebayo, Bottom by Zoe Bird, and Moth and Mustard Seed by Tabitha Rose and Dodie Wang. We hope you will enjoy it.”

  There was a pause.

  “What do you think?” said Fawn. “We’d be ever so grateful!”

  I prayed, silently. Please, Rachel, please say yes!

  The others were all watching; they seemed as anxious as I was. The last thing I had ever expected was that Fawn would have a change of heart. Chantelle caught my eye and pulled an anguished face. I think we both knew that if Rachel said No, that would be an end of it as far as Fawn was concerned.

  I saw Dodie gnawing on her bottom lip and Tabs with her fingers crossed. Please, Rachel, please!

  “It would make such a difference,” said Fawn. “You don’t even have to learn it, if you don’t want to. You could just read it, if that makes things easier.”

  A shy beam spread itself across Rachel’s face.

  “I can learn it,” she said.

  “Really? Oh, that is brilliant!”

  There are times when you can’t help but admire Fawn. She was making it sound as if having Rachel do the introduction was the one thing that had been missing. The one thing we were desperately in need of
.

  “Now all you have to do,” she said, “is get permission to come with us on Friday.”

  “She’ll come,” I said. I would make sure of it!

  Our Shakespeare scene went really well. So well that even Fawn didn’t have any complaints. We weren’t supposed to be in competition with the others, so we didn’t officially win or get a prize or anything like that, but everyone seemed to agree that ours was THE BEST. People kept coming up and congratulating us. Elinor Gaynes, one of the prefects, said it was the most polished performance she had seen.

  “Almost professional!”

  Miss Seymour added that it had been an excellent idea to have Rachel perform the introduction. “A very nice touch.”

  Fawn basked, and Rachel positively glowed. She spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening with this great soppy smile on her face. I hadn’t seen her so happy in a long time.

  The wrap party was fun, even if I did keep looking at Fawn’s mum and seeing her in her big feathery hat, which made me want to giggle. It was most probably nerves on account of me being sat next to Fawn’s dad, who is a bit scary. He has this deep booming voice and this big jutting jaw. The sort of man that is always being interviewed on television as Someone Important. Try as I might, I couldn’t imagine him and my dad together. They wouldn’t have anything to talk about, except maybe golf, which was something Dad had recently taken up. Rachel, on the other hand, found loads to say. She was sitting opposite and they had this long chatty conversation all about newts and toads and tadpoles. I was impressed! I asked her afterwards how she knew about such things and she said, “We used to have a pond in the garden.”

  “Not where you are now?” I said.

  “Where we were before,” said Rachel.

  I was hoping she would tell me a bit more, but she obviously wasn’t ready yet, and I knew I mustn’t push her.

  It was almost half-past nine when we arrived back at school after the wrap party. Dad was there to collect us both and bring Rachel back to spend the night. Actually, she spent two nights, and in some ways it was even more fun than the wrap party – about which Mum was bursting with curiosity. She couldn’t wait to hear all the details, like what sort of restaurant we’d gone to, and what we’d eaten, and what Fawn’s parents were like.

  “But best keep it between us,” she said, when I told her about Fawn’s dad being a big-shot businessman and her mum being photographed at Ascot. “Our little secret!”

  “Why’s that?” whispered Rachel, as we went up to my room.

  “It’s cos Dad has this thing about St With’s being full of rich people,” I said. “He thought they might look down on me, or something.”

  “Like Auntie Helen,” said Rachel. “She was scared I wouldn’t fit in.”

  “But you have,” I said.

  Rachel looked at me, eagerly. “Do you really think so?”

  I said, “Absolutely! Fawn was so pleased you did the introduction for us.”

  “I enjoyed it,” said Rachel. And then, rather shyly, she added, “Maybe next term, if we have to do more acting, I might be able to take part.”

  “That would be great,” I said.

  We were getting there!

  We’re almost at the end of Year Eight now. Rachel is still called Daffy, by everyone except me. Dodie asked her, once, if she’d rather we called her Rachel, or even Ray, but Rachel said no, she liked being Daffy.

  “I know it was cos of my yellow dress that you all hated, but I’ve kind of got used to it.”

  Fawn said, “You always wanted to have a nickname.”

  “She wanted us all to have nicknames,” said Tabs. “I remember, on her very first day, she wanted you to be Baby.”

  Dodie giggled. “And she wanted Zoe to be Albatross!”

  “I never,” protested Rachel. “That was your idea! I wanted her to be Robin.”

  “We all thought you were totally loopy,” said Tabs.

  Sometimes, even now, they think that Rachel is a bit odd. It’s just that nobody minds any more. As Chantelle recently said, “She may be weird, but she is still One of Us.”

  It’s all she ever wanted. I continue to wait patiently for her to tell me about her life before she came to St With’s, which I’m sure she will one day. When she trusts me enough. Danny, meanwhile, is quite forgotten. We never talk about him, and I have never let on that I know the truth. That is something I won’t ever do.

  Rachel hasn’t found herself a real flesh-and-blood boyfriend yet, but then I haven’t found myself one, either. We don’t worry about it; there are too many other things going on in our lives. Not that we have given up on the idea. I have introduced Rachel to gorgeous Jez, and we both agree that if we should happen to bump into him in an Oxfam shop, it would be something to put in our diaries.

  “Not,” says Rachel, “that we can really expect it.”

  I am glad she is learning to be realistic where boys are concerned – no more actors! – but I point out that we can always dream. Rachel enthusiastically seconds this.

  “There is no harm in just dreaming.”

  “So long as we know that it’s just dreaming.”

  “Which we do,” says Rachel.

  So then we smile at each other and go back to sighing over my poster of Jez. In the meantime, we’d both happily settle for just ordinary regular sorts of boyfriends, such as other people have. All I can say is, we live in hope!

  Click on the covers below to read more fantastic stories from Jean Ure:

  Also by Jean Ure

  Star Crazy Me

  Hunky Dory

  Gone Missing

  Over the Moon

  Boys Beware

  Sugar and Spice

  Is Anybody There? Seeing Is Believing

  Secret Meeting

  Family Fan Club

  Passion Flower

  Shrinking Violet

  Boys on the Brain

  Becky Bananas: This Is Your Life!

  Fruit and Nutcase

  The Secret Life of Sally Tomato

  Frankie Foster series

  Frankie Foster: Fizzypop

  Frankie Foster: Pick ’n’ Mix

  Frankie Foster – Freaks Out!

  Special three-in-one editions

  The Tutti-Frutti Collection

  The Flower Power Collection

  The Friends Forever Collection

  And for younger readers

  Dazzling Danny

  Daisy May

  Monster in the Mirror

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