Sunita’s Secret

by Narinder Dhami

  Instead of the short cut, I followed the road round, into a street of big, old Victorian houses. At the corner, though, I came to a dead stop. The red door of a house not far from me had just opened. Henry came out.

  I didn’t know he lived here, I thought.

  Henry didn’t see me. I was just about to call his name, when a woman appeared on the doorstep. Henry’s mum? But she was tiny, bony, bird-like. She was hardly taller than I was.

  ‘Now do try to choose the healthy option for lunch, Henry.’ Mrs Williams began fiddling with Henry’s hair and brushing fluff from his coat. Henry stood there obediently. I watched, fascinated. He had his back to me, but I could see that his shoulders were rigid with tension. ‘And we’ll have a nice salad for tea tonight.’

  At this moment the blue front door of the next house opened, and another completely unexpected ingredient was thrown into the dramatic mix. Jack Browning came out. He looked handsome and stylish even in uniform, his tie knotted loosely around his neck, white shirt collar open.

  ‘Hi, Mrs Williams,’ he called, raising a hand. ‘Hiya, Henry.’

  My jaw dropped. Jack’s open, honest smile and friendly manner was staggering, considering I knew very well how he treated Henry at school.

  ‘Good morning, Jack.’ Mrs Williams beamed at him and gave him a little wave. Did she really not know what he was like?

  Jack sauntered down the path and out onto the street. He saw me straight away and, as he walked past, he tried to barge into my shoulder. But I’d already guessed his intention, and stepped aside.

  ‘Hey, loser,’ he said out of the corner of his mouth, and strolled away with a grin.

  ‘Sunita!’

  Henry had come to the gate and was waving at me. His mum was right behind him, checking me over with sharp blue eyes and an over-bright smile. She was even tinier close up. I was sure I could probably fit my hands around her waist.

  ‘Mum, this is my friend Sunita,’ said Henry. He sounded quite proud, which touched me a little.

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Sunita.’ Mrs Williams gave me her dainty hand, a collection of bones and rings, to shake. ‘What a pretty girl you are. Lovely and slim too. I expect you always choose the healthy lunch option at school, don’t you?’

  ‘Mum!’ Henry groaned, flushing bright red. ‘We’ve got to go. We’ll be late.’

  I didn’t get a chance to say anything to Mrs Williams before Henry hustled me away, down the street. We were silent for a moment or two. My head was swimming with so many questions, but where did I start?

  ‘I didn’t know you lived next door to Jack Browning, Henry.’ That seemed like quite a good place to begin.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ Henry said with a heavy sigh.

  ‘Your mum seems—’ I stopped. Nice didn’t seem the right word. ‘Well, she seems to worry about you a lot.’

  ‘Yes.’ Henry sighed even harder. He stopped abruptly and pointed at a newsagent’s shop across the street. ‘I just have to pop in there for a minute. I won’t be long.’

  I stood there waiting. For some reason I felt vaguely worried about Henry, although I couldn’t really say why. When he came back, he was carrying a plastic bag.

  ‘Do you want something?’ he asked, opening the bag wide so that I could see into it. It was full of chocolate bars and crisps.

  I shook my head.

  Henry took out a Flake and ate it in four bites before we’d walked to the end of the street.

  ‘How did you get on with that English homework?’ he asked, starting on a bag of Doritos.

  We talked about homework all the way to the bus stop, while Henry ate his way through half the contents of the carrier bag. We’d missed the first bus, and had to wait for the second. By the time we got to school, Henry only had half a packet of Rolos left.

  Zara was waiting for us in the playground.

  ‘You two are a bit late,’ Zara remarked. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’ Without ceremony she leaned over, took the Rolos from Henry and helped herself to one.

  ‘I would have offered them to you,’ Henry protested, the tips of his ears turning pink.

  Zara shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to take the risk,’ she replied, handing the packet back to him. ‘So, what did you two do at the weekend?’

  It was possibly the worst question she could have come up with.

  Immediately I felt and looked rather flustered. ‘Nothing much,’ I mumbled. ‘Nothing at all.’

  Zara pounced like a cat on a mouse. ‘Now why should such a simple question cause you so much anxiety?’ she said thoughtfully.

  ‘Zara!’ Henry muttered, looking embarrassed.

  ‘I’m not anxious,’ I said with as much dignity as I could scrape together. ‘We just didn’t do anything much, that’s all.’

  ‘Surely you’re not all lurking at home because you’re scared to go out after what your dad did?’ Zara went on, raising her eyebrows.

  I felt angry with her for hitting the nail on the head so accurately. ‘You don’t know what it’s like,’ I snapped. ‘People can be so horrible. We just want to be left alone.’

  ‘Well, I think you should stand up for yourselves,’ Zara said robustly. ‘After all, you and your mum and your brother and sister haven’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘It’s not as easy as that,’ I muttered.

  ‘Can you – well – I mean, do you have any idea where your dad might be?’ asked Henry haltingly.

  I hesitated. I wasn’t at all sure that I wanted to talk about my dad, even to my new friends.

  ‘Don’t answer if you don’t want to,’ Henry added, seeing the look on my face.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said, making a snap decision. ‘We don’t know where he is. Neither do the police.’

  ‘What was he like?’ Zara said curiously.

  ‘He’s not dead!’ I snapped.

  ‘Sorry.’ For once, Zara didn’t take offence. ‘What is he like?’

  I thought for a moment. ‘He’s kind,’ I said. ‘Funny. He’d do anything to make us laugh. He looked after us.’ I didn’t say it, but I knew that a big part of why Dad took the money was for us, the family. That didn’t make it right, but it was the way things were.

  ‘He sounds nice,’ Henry remarked, popping a Rolo into his mouth.

  Zara took the packet of sweets from him again, and offered me one.

  ‘How old are your brother and sister, and what are their names?’

  I was grateful to her for changing the subject. I told them a bit about the twins, which made them laugh.

  ‘Have you two got any brothers and sisters?’ I asked.

  Henry looked suddenly gloomy as he shook his head. ‘Just me.’

  Zara’s face closed in on itself as she replied, ‘Two younger brothers and two younger sisters.’

  I was astonished. ‘You’ve got four brothers and sisters?’ I said. She’d never mentioned them.

  ‘Sure.’ Zara shrugged. ‘My parents had me, and then they wanted to see if they could have a baby with a normal face. So they had four more. Luckily, none of them have got a birthmark.’

  I knew Zara well enough by now to understand that she sometimes said things just to shock. But this time I was shocked.

  ‘You don’t mean that.’

  ‘Oh, I do,’ Zara replied calmly. ‘They’re ashamed of me, my mum and dad.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ I looked to Henry to back me up, but he was staring down at his trainers.

  ‘They are,’ Zara insisted. ‘I overheard them talking once, and my mum said she wished I didn’t have the birthmark.’ Her voice quivered very slightly.

  ‘But what did you expect her to say?’ I asked, puzzled. ‘That she was pleased you had it?’

  Zara stuck her bottom lip out rebelliously. ‘It shouldn’t matter,’ she snapped. ‘It shouldn’t make any difference.’

  ‘I bet it doesn’t,’ I argued. ‘I’m sure your mum and dad love you just the same.’

  ‘So why do they k
eep telling me I can have laser treatment to get rid of it when I’m older?’ Zara demanded.

  I rolled my eyes in annoyance. ‘They’re just trying to be helpful,’ I replied. ‘But you’re so damn prickly, it’s like trying to help a hedgehog!’ I did not add that it would be just like Zara not to have the treatment, so she could irritate everybody all the more.

  Zara pulled a face at me, and I decided it was better to shut up. I did feel angry with her, though. She was lucky enough to have her mum and dad around, and all she could worry about was something I was sure wasn’t true.

  ‘My mum’s ashamed of me.’

  Henry spoke in such a low voice, we only just caught the words.

  ‘Why?’ Zara asked bluntly. ‘Because you’re fat?’

  ‘I’m not really fat,’ Henry began earnestly. ‘I’m just big-boned—’

  ‘Henry, your bones would have to be the size of a dinosaur’s, in that case,’ Zara broke in. ‘Face it, you’re fat.’

  ‘Zara!’ I exclaimed in horror.

  ‘Well, he is,’ Zara retorted. ‘And you know why? He eats too much. Chocolate every morning, and chips every day for lunch.’

  ‘I’m sure your mum’s not ashamed of you, Henry.’ I glared pointedly at Zara to shut her up. ‘From what I saw today, I think she’s just worried about you.’

  ‘She is ashamed,’ Henry insisted glumly. ‘She wishes I was like Jack Browning.’

  ‘He lives next door to you, doesn’t he?’ Zara raised her eyebrows. ‘Doesn’t she know what he’s really like?’

  Henry shook his head. ‘Mum thinks he’s great,’ he mumbled. ‘She’s always going on about him.’

  ‘You mean you haven’t even told her that he bullies you?’ I asked.

  ‘You should put her straight,’ said Zara tartly.

  Henry didn’t look that convinced. ‘And you know what?’ he went on gloomily, ‘Mum wants me to go to Fat Camp next summer.’

  ‘Fat Camp?’ Zara frowned. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s for kids to lose weight.’ Henry sighed, a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his supposedly bigger-than-average bones. ‘They make you diet and run around and exercise.’

  ‘It sounds just what you need—’ Zara began, but stopped when I elbowed her discreetly in the ribs.

  ‘Look, tell your mum you really don’t want to go,’ I said helpfully. ‘She won’t force you.’

  Henry looked unconvinced. ‘She will. She wants me to be skinny just like her.’

  I looked from one to the other in silence. And I thought I had problems with my parents. I was sure I had the worst deal of the three of us – although I’m not boasting about it – but I felt sorry for Zara and Henry. Are there any normal parents, anywhere?

  ‘Well, you know what you have to do to get on better with your mum,’ Zara said briskly. ‘Stop eating junk, run around a bit more and lose some weight.’

  ‘And what are you going to do to get on better with yours?’ snapped Henry, quite rudely, for him.

  Zara’s eyes darkened, and she drew her brows down.

  ‘Can we check that maths homework together?’ I broke in hastily as she opened her mouth. ‘I’m not sure I did mine right.’

  Zara started muttering under her breath, but she did open her bag. So did Henry. With a silent sigh of relief, I did the same. My friends were turning out to be a bit more complicated than I’d been expecting.

  I was surprised to see a folded piece of paper sitting on top of my books inside my bag. I picked it up, opened it out.

  Sunita, whatever happens with your dad, we’ll be OK, the note read. I just wanted you to know that. Have a good day at school, Mum xxx. She’d drawn a smiley face at the bottom.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Zara asked, flipping through her maths book. ‘You look like you’re going to cry.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ I so wanted to believe Mum, but it was difficult. I was glad she was trying, though. If we were going to do this at all, we had to do it together.

  Henry, Zara and I were deep into comparing the answers to our sums, when shrill screams from nearby interrupted us.

  ‘Ooh, it’s gorgeous, Celina!’

  ‘Can I try it on?’

  ‘Oh!’ Zara said grumpily, covering her ears. ‘Screaming drama queen alert.’

  Celina, surrounded by her gang of shrieking harpies, threw us a superior stare. She was holding out one of her slim wrists so that her friends could admire the heavy silver bracelet of linked, cut-out hearts she was wearing. Flashes of pinpoint sparkles glinted off it in the pale autumn sunshine like laser beams.

  ‘Those aren’t real diamonds?’ breathed Danielle reverently.

  Celina shrugged. ‘They’re only tiny,’ she said. ‘You need a microscope to see them.’

  ‘But diamonds!’ Danielle groaned.

  ‘Ooh, look!’ Chloe squealed. ‘There’s one set in each of the hearts. It’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Celina Patel, if you aren’t just the luckiest girl alive,’ Jyoti said with deep envy. ‘I thought your mum wouldn’t allow you to wear it to school.’

  Celina winked at them. ‘She doesn’t know,’ she explained smugly. ‘I sneaked out with it when she was in the shower this morning.’

  ‘Oh no,’ I muttered, putting my head in my hands. ‘Please, please, please don’t let Celina lose that bracelet or I’ll be arrested.’ I was half joking for Henry and Zara’s benefit, but I was serious too. The memory of Mr Arora’s wallet was still fresh in my mind.

  ‘Yes, the mayor would make sure you were given life imprisonment,’ Zara added with a grin.

  Celina didn’t hear what she said, but she saw us smiling. Maybe what she did next was because she couldn’t stand the sight. Anyway, sliding the admittedly beautiful bracelet up and down her wrist with her other hand, she turned to face me.

  ‘My dad says he knows where your dad is,’ she called casually.

  If she wanted to stop me smiling, she succeeded. If she wanted to jolt me up, she did, like an electric shock. I jumped to my feet, overturning my maths book into a puddle. Henry rushed to fish it out, while I fronted Celina.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I demanded.

  Celina shrugged, half smiling. Her favourite thing, I was beginning to realize, was playing people like instruments. Starting soft and quiet and adagio, and then winding them up for a big crescendo.

  ‘Well, he doesn’t know, as such,’ she purred. ‘But he can guess.’

  ‘And what does he guess?’

  ‘Let’s see …’ Celina tapped her chin with one pearly pink fingernail, enjoying making me sweat. ‘My dad says that there’s only one place any sensible person would choose. Any sensible Indian person. And that’s India.’

  I took a deep breath as I remembered the birthday card. I had to fight to keep my face from betraying the fact that it was possible Celina’s dad was right.

  ‘I mean, it’s the perfect place to lose yourself if you’re on the run, isn’t it?’ Celina went on. ‘After all, there are over a billion people there …’

  She stopped as she caught the expression on my face. I knew I looked guilty, despite my best efforts.

  Celina broke into peals of giggles. ‘Ooh, you know something, don’t you, Sunita?’ she declared. ‘My dad’s right. He is in India, isn’t he?’

  Her friends started to laugh.

  ‘You should go to the police, Cee,’ said Danielle.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Jyoti agreed with a snigger. ‘There might be a reward!’

  ‘Sunita, let’s go in,’ Zara said urgently as the bell rang.

  ‘Here’s your maths book,’ Henry added, holding it out to me.

  I ignored them, fixing my burning gaze on Celina. I knew she was half joking to wind me up, and I knew the police were already considering India as one of Dad’s hiding places. But I had truly had enough.

  ‘I’ll talk to my dad tonight,’ Celina said, flipping her hair back. ‘Maybe he should go to the police and suggest it. After all, it would be
the right thing to do—’

  She didn’t get any further. I flew at her and gave her a shove.

  ‘Mind my bracelet!’ Celina screamed as she staggered backwards.

  ‘Yes, mind her bracelet!’ the witches chorused. They gasped with horror as Celina didn’t manage to regain her balance, but carried on falling, falling, falling until she landed smack on her bottom in a puddle.

  ‘This is not good enough, Sunita.’ Mrs Bright speared me with her blue-eyed stare as I stood silent but unrepentant in front of her. ‘Whatever Celina Patel is alleged to have said, I cannot condone this kind of behaviour.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered. But, you know, I wasn’t.

  Mrs Bright was not deceived. ‘I would normally expect Mr Arora to deal with incidents like this,’ she went on frostily, ‘but in the circumstances I felt it was better to speak to you myself.’ She didn’t say what those circumstances were, so I didn’t know whether it was because Mr Arora was too sleep-deprived to punish me properly, or whether my crime of attacking the mayor’s daughter was so heinous, only Mrs Bright could handle it.

  ‘I understand that it must be very frustrating for you that the news about your father has leaked out,’ Mrs Bright went on, and she did look more sympathetic. ‘But now that it has, it’s up to you how you deal with it.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Bright.’ I knew she was right. I’d let my feelings get the better of me, and now Celina would never leave me alone.

  ‘Look on this as a character-building exercise, Sunita,’ Mrs Bright urged. She got up from her chair, walked round the desk and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘If you can get through this, you’ll learn a valuable lesson in life.’

  I nodded. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again, and this time I sounded a bit more sincere.

  Mrs Bright looked satisfied. ‘You will write a one-thousand-word essay entitled Why Violence Is Never the Solution to a Problem, and hand it in to Mr Arora tomorrow.’

  ‘Is that it?’ I blurted out – then I could have kicked myself. ‘I mean, all right.’ I’d been expecting detentions for a week. After all, Celina had screamed loud enough to wake the dead.