Sunita’s Secret

by Narinder Dhami

  ‘Sunita, thank you for waiting,’ Mr Arora said, slumping down in his chair. The caffeine obviously hadn’t kicked in yet. ‘The reason I wanted to talk to you is to check that you’re all right. I’m worried about you because I’ve noticed that everyone seems to have found out about your – er – background.’

  I stared at him. I didn’t think he’d noticed anything. ‘Yes, sir.’

  Maybe I sounded just a teensy bit disbelieving, because he looked slightly sheepish.

  ‘To be honest, I didn’t actually notice myself …’ Mr Arora cleared his throat. ‘I was told, by my nieces. I think you’ve met them. Geena, Amber and Jazz …’

  He took a huge gulp of coffee and blinked several times. I waited for him to prop his eyelids open with his fingers, but even he seemed to feel that would be a step too far. ‘Well, anyway, I just wanted to make sure that things weren’t too difficult for you. Obviously this wasn’t what we were expecting, but I’m sure that things will settle down if we give it time, and that you’ll be accepted at Coppergate on your own merits.’

  I hesitated. I wondered whether to tell on Celina and Jack, who were making my life miserable and would certainly continue to do so. But Mr Arora looked so exhausted, I just didn’t want to add to his problems. Anyway, it would be telling tales.

  ‘I’m all right, sir.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Mr Arora’s face contorted this way and that as he tried to stifle a yawn. ‘And remember, you can always come to me if you need any help.’

  I escaped. I just managed to catch the last school bus, which was lucky because I had no way of letting Mum know I would be late. My tiny, sleek, silver mobile phone was a thing of the past.

  I was so late, I took the short cut, even though I didn’t much enjoy walking past those big, posh houses. They reminded me too much of what we’d lost. As I hurried along the pavement, I saw Chloe Maynard come out of one of them. Her house had landscaped gardens, a large, separate granny annexe at the side and two double garages. She didn’t see me. She crossed the road and went up the driveway of the opposite house, her skinny hipbones jutting sideways out of her designer jeans. Her crop top showed off her flat stomach, so flat it was almost inside out, and she carried a denim jacket, even though it was freezing.

  The house opposite was bigger and more luxurious in every way, with a sweeping, paved drive. There was a silver Mercedes parked outside the front door. Chloe knocked, and Celina Patel opened it. I could not stop myself staring.

  Celina wore a denim miniskirt, high-heeled black boots and a fluffy, white fake-fur jacket. I think it was fake. She was followed outside by a man, tall and well-built, in a dark grey suit. I supposed it was Celina’s dad, although he wasn’t wearing his mayoral robes and gold chain. They were joined by a glamorous, sophisticated woman in a pink sari and pointed shoes, the exact same colour. She wore a lot of diamond jewellery.

  My footsteps had unconsciously slowed as I watched. But then Celina saw me. She immediately whispered to her mum and dad, who stared at me openly and curiously. Blushing, I walked faster as they all climbed into the Mercedes. Celina’s dad held the door open for her and patted her shoulder as she got in. A moment later the car swept past me.

  I felt angry. Celina’s mum, the school governor, had possibly given away my secret to Celina. She shouldn’t have done that. I felt jealous. Celina wasn’t one of the nicest people in the world (what an understatement), but her dad loved her, and he was there for her. I felt sad. My dad loved me, but he wasn’t here.

  But that only made me more determined. I was going to stay at Coppergate and find proper friends and shut Celina and Jack up by making people forget what my dad had done, and like me for myself.

  I changed my mind, though, when Mr Arora’s wallet went missing.

  I had made it through to Friday afternoon, the end of the first week. I was proud of myself. I had fought the continual attempts of Celina and her gang of drama queens to needle me. And I think people were beginning to get used to me, just a little. All right, some of them were still making pointed comments about fugitives and thieves and jail when I passed by. But I thought I could cope …

  I hadn’t made any friends, though. No one except Zara and Henry showed any interest in getting to know me at all. Although I was still telling both of them to leave me alone, secretly I was beginning to get used to them hanging around. After all, some days I wouldn’t have spoken to anyone except teachers, if I hadn’t had Zara and Henry to argue with. I did start to wonder if I should just give in and be mates with them.

  And then …

  ‘Where’s my wallet?’ Mr Arora had wandered into the classroom after lunch, dropped the register on his desk and slumped in his seat. Now he sat up as if he’d been shot in the back. ‘I left it right here.’

  Everyone glanced up, including me. Mr Arora, looking more wide-awake than I’d seen him so far, began to rifle through the haphazard and chaotic contents of his desk. Bits of paper went flying, followed by paperclips, folders and small lumps of Blu-tac.

  ‘It was here,’ he wailed. ‘And now it’s gone.’

  I didn’t notice immediately that some of the class were staring at me. Then, slowly, I became aware of people looking. Jack, Celina, Jyoti, Danielle and Chloe, of course, but others too. Whispering, nodding, pointing … I felt the colour drain from my face. Surely, surely they couldn’t be so stupid as to think I would steal something? Because my dad was a thief, why did that mean I was one too? I wanted to shout my innocence out loud, but my throat had closed up.

  ‘Are you sure you left it there, sir?’ Zara said suddenly. ‘Maybe it’s in the staff room.’

  ‘Or maybe somebody took it,’ Celina remarked casually.

  There was a murmur of agreement and all eyes were on me. I felt as if someone had stabbed me in the heart.

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ Zara said loudly, glaring at Celina. ‘I don’t think anyone in this class would take something that belonged to Mr Arora.’

  I couldn’t believe that she was standing up for me after the way I’d pushed her aside.

  ‘I’ll help you look, sir,’ said Henry. Pink in the face, he was already out of his chair and lumbering to the front of the room before Mr Arora could say anything.

  ‘Careful!’ shrieked Celina as Henry brushed past her table, knocking books and papers and everything else to the floor.

  ‘Ow!’ yelled Jack as Chloe’s make-up bag landed on his toe.

  ‘Be careful,’ Mr Arora said nervously as Henry began pulling at piles of folders and exercise books. As the whole lot cascaded to the ground, half the class shot out of their seats to help. Not me. I was rigid in my chair. Thoughts rushed through my head at the speed of sound. Would this happen every time something went missing? I couldn’t stand it. I would have to leave. I would tell Mum tonight that I had to start over somewhere else—

  ‘Sir,’ Zara called over the noise. ‘Are you sure you didn’t put the wallet in your pocket?’

  Mr Arora thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. Then a sheepish smile spread across his face. He pulled out a black leather wallet and waved it in the air.

  ‘Well done, Zara,’ he said with a sigh of relief. ‘My wife would have killed me if I’d lost all my money.’

  I was saved. But I couldn’t stop shaking. I still felt sick as the bell pealed out for afternoon lessons. I might have guessed that Celina and Jack and their friends would make the most of the situation, but everyone in the class thought I might have taken Mr Arora’s wallet; thought that I might be a thief, although I’d never actually stolen anything in my life.

  Not everyone, though. I swallowed down the hard lump in my throat, and turned to Zara.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘What for?’ Zara picked up her bag as the other kids milled over to the door.

  ‘Sticking up for me.’ I swallowed again. ‘You didn’t have to.’

  Zara shrugged. ‘I knew you didn’t do it,’ she replied. ‘I’d have done the same for anyon
e who was innocent.’

  Innocent. What a lovely word. So much better than guilty.

  ‘You couldn’t know that,’ I said curiously.

  Zara snorted with derision. ‘Of course I knew,’ she scoffed. ‘You’d have to be stupid to do that. And you’re not stupid. Annoying yes, stupid no.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said again.

  Henry was pushing his way against the tide of the crowd towards us.

  ‘Are you all right, Sunita?’ he asked anxiously.

  Someone else who thought I was innocent. I smiled at him.

  ‘I’m fine.’ It was so comforting to have people who were on my side. I knew I might regret it later, but right there and then I made an instant decision, and pushed away all thoughts of consequences. ‘You know what? Let’s all three of us sit together this afternoon.’ I looked at Zara. ‘OK with you?’

  Zara frowned, her head on one side. ‘Does this mean we’re all friends then?’ she asked tartly, as Henry beamed. ‘You do know that three is a very awkward number.’

  ‘For a business arrangement, maybe,’ I replied. ‘But not if you’re real friends.’

  Henry looked thrilled, and even Zara’s eyes lit up. Maybe they weren’t the friends I would have chosen. No maybe about it: they definitely weren’t the friends I would have chosen. But they were the friends I’d got. And you know, friend is an even more beautiful word than innocent.

  I was singing to myself as I walked home from the bus stop after school. When was the last time I’d felt even a tiny bit happy? Months ago. I couldn’t remember.

  Henry, Zara and I had sat together on the bus. It was a bit of a squeeze because Henry took up so much room, but we managed. Celina and her witches, and Jack, of course, were ready with their insults, but it didn’t matter. I’d forgotten how it felt to be one of a group instead of on your own. The solid bulk of Henry on one side of me and the sparky presence of Zara on the other were surprisingly comforting.

  As I walked towards our house, I was surprised to see Mum dart out through Mr Chan’s garden gate next door. She glanced fearfully up and down the road and then ducked down onto her hands and knees. She seemed to be clearing something from Mr Chan’s hedge.

  ‘Mum, what are you doing?’ I asked, coming up behind her.

  Mum gave a little scream and leaped to her feet. I was even more surprised to see the twins charge out through Mr Chan’s gate and launch themselves at me. They held bunches of red, gold and yellow leaves in their mittened hands.

  ‘Sunita!’ Davey roared, head-butting me in the tummy. ‘Look! We’ve been cleaning up Mr Chan’s garden!’

  ‘We’ve picked up all the litter stuck in Mrs Brodie’s hedge,’ Debbie added. ‘And the other neighbours too.’

  I glanced at Mum, who slowly turned pink. ‘Have you tidied the whole street?’ I asked, amused.

  ‘Well, I was just cleaning all the leaves and litter out of our own front garden,’ Mum said defensively. ‘And you know how frail Mr Chan is. I thought we could give him a hand.’

  ‘So you’ve spoken to him?’ I asked, my eyes wide.

  Mum looked slightly sheepish. ‘No, it’s his day for the community centre. He doesn’t get back till five.’

  ‘And Mrs Brodie?’

  Mum stared down at her feet like a naughty schoolgirl. ‘I think she’s gone away for the weekend,’ she mumbled. ‘I saw her getting in her car with a suitcase.’

  I couldn’t help smiling. ‘So you thought you’d sneak around doing good deeds while the neighbours were away. Who do you think you are, Superman?’

  The twins hooted with laughter.

  ‘No, Supermum,’ Debbie giggled.

  ‘Mum, you need a costume to be a proper superhero,’ Davey declared. ‘I’ll lend you my Spiderman suit.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Mum. ‘But don’t you think it might be a bit big for me?’

  Debbie and Davey clutched at each other, helpless with giggles. It was good to see.

  Too quickly, we were under siege again.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Mum whispered, her face changing. ‘Here comes that woman who lives next door to Mrs Brodie. Inside, kids, right away.’

  We didn’t know the names of our other neighbours, although we knew them all by sight. It helped when you were desperate to avoid them. As the woman hurried up the road, pushing her baby in a buggy, we dumped the black sacks of rubbish in the bin and disappeared indoors.

  ‘I know we’re going to have to get used to meeting people sometime,’ Mum said to me as the twins charged into the living room to argue over the TV remote control. ‘But I just don’t feel ready for it yet.’

  I didn’t know what to say. I still hadn’t told Mum that our secret was out at school. I couldn’t decide which was worse – being on tenterhooks in case anyone found out who you were, or having to put up with hurtful comments from people who did know. It was a tough one.

  ‘How’s school?’ Mum asked me, almost reading my mind. I followed her into the kitchen, glad she had her back to me.

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Have you made any friends?’

  This, at least, I could answer truthfully.

  ‘Yes, two. Zara and Henry.’

  ‘A boy?’ Mum said teasingly. ‘Is he good-looking?’

  ‘You’re joking!’ I replied. ‘But he seems nice.’

  Mum still had her back to me as she filled the kettle at the sink.

  ‘Sunita, the police came today.’

  ‘What?’ My stomach began to churn. ‘Why? They haven’t found—?’

  ‘No. Not that.’ Mum turned round to face me. ‘They knew it was your birthday and wanted to see if your dad had been in touch.’ She bit her lip. ‘They took the card away. I’m sorry, Sunita.’

  ‘They shouldn’t have done that,’ I said in a wobbly voice. ‘It was mine.’

  ‘They promised you’d get it back,’ said Mum, stroking my hair from my face.

  ‘Mum?’ I’d never voiced this fear openly before, but it seemed the right moment to bring it up. ‘What if Dad never comes home?’

  ‘I’ve thought about that too.’ Mum sighed deeply. ‘I suppose we have to get on and make ourselves a new life without him.’ She tried to smile, but I could see a faint glimmer of tears in her eyes. ‘Listen to me, pretending to be all brave, when I can’t even bring myself to say hello to the neighbours.’

  ‘You are brave,’ I said. ‘And the neighbours will love you when they realize you’ve been doing all these nice things for them.’

  Mum didn’t look very convinced and, as usual, we spent the whole weekend in the house. This was partly to avoid meeting anyone, but also because we didn’t have any money to do anything else. Being cooped up in a small space for two days and three nights with Debbie and Davey was a horrifying experience. We did make a mad dash to the park on Saturday evening as it was getting dark, just so the twins could run around yelling and hitting each other with twigs. But other than that we stayed inside. Monday morning, and I almost couldn’t wait to get to school. But Mum was looking pale and wrecked, and I wanted to cheer her up.

  ‘Listen, you two monkeys.’ I cornered Davey and Debbie on the landing while Mum was downstairs making breakfast. ‘We’re going to do something nice for Mum today before we go to school. A lovely, secret surprise, just like she’s been doing for the neighbours.’

  ‘Ooh, what?’ Debbie demanded.

  ‘We’re going to tidy your pit of a bedroom,’ I replied, trying to push the door open wider, but a red felt-tip pen was stuck underneath, wedging the door in position.

  Davey’s face fell. ‘That’s not a lovely surprise,’ he scoffed.

  ‘Yes, it is.’ I kicked the felt-tip pen away, grabbed one arm each and pulled them into the room. ‘Mum will be ever so pleased. Trust me.’

  ‘But tidying up is really hard, and we’re only little,’ Debbie said glumly.

  I gazed hopelessly around the room, which was not much bigger than mine. Nothing which should be put away had been put away
. The floor was heaped with clothes, books, pens, toys and bits of jigsaw. The wardrobe doors were open and more clothes were spilling out. Even the bunk beds were covered with stuff.

  ‘How did you two get to sleep last night?’ I asked.

  ‘I just lay on top of it,’ replied Davey.

  I groaned. ‘OK, listen to me,’ I said sternly. ‘We’re going to tidy up, just like Mary Poppins and Michael and Jane do in the film.’

  ‘You mean we click our fingers and everything will tidy up like magic?’ asked Debbie, her eyes wide.

  ‘No, I’ve got a much better idea,’ I said. ‘We’ll pick everything up. Debbie, you collect the clothes, and, Davey, you put the toys away.’

  ‘How is that better than magic?’ Davey grumbled, kicking at a battered fire engine.

  ‘Because Mum will know that we worked hard to help her,’ I said sternly. ‘And she’ll be proud of us. Isn’t that better than doing everything by magic?’

  ‘No,’ muttered the twins sulkily.

  ‘All right, I’ll give you each a KitKat,’ I offered.

  ‘Four-finger, not two-finger,’ Debbie bargained.

  ‘Done,’ I agreed. ‘But don’t say anything to Mum. It’s meant to be a surprise.’

  The twins did keep quiet, amazingly, and Mum didn’t guess what we were up to, so when I went off to school that morning, I was smiling. Mum would find out later, when she got back from taking the twins to school, that their room was tidy for once. I imagined her opening the door and seeing what we’d done. I could picture the look of delight on her face. It was a good feeling. I decided there and then that every day I’d do something secret to make Mum smile.

  Just for a change, I took a different route to the bus stop. Well, not just for the change. I didn’t want to walk past the big houses and run the risk of bumping into Celina and Chloe on their way to the bus, which would certainly wipe the smile off my face. Today I was happy. I wanted to keep hold of the feeling for as long as I could.