Sunita’s Secret

by Narinder Dhami

  I picked up my bag and sauntered away, followed by Zara and Henry.

  ‘There they go,’ Celina called spitefully after us. ‘Losers United.’

  Zara spun round slowly. ‘Celina,’ she said in a dangerously quiet voice, ‘have you ever considered how lucky you were to get that bracelet back yesterday?’

  Celina stared blankly at her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, if it wasn’t any of your friends who found it and put it in your locker, then who was it?’ Zara went on silkily. ‘Maybe you should start being nicer to everyone. If someone can do a secret good deed for you, they might also do a secret bad deed. If you annoy them, I mean.’

  Celina looked quite startled. With a wide smile, Zara turned and hurried after Henry and me.

  ‘That shook her up a bit, didn’t it?’ Zara said with satisfaction. ‘She might think twice about being so vile from now on.’

  ‘I think I’ve just seen that flying pig you mentioned earlier,’ I said with a grin. I felt elated. It’s a great word. I don’t think I’d ever felt so elated in my whole life. I’d walked away from Celina and her insults, I’d turned the other cheek and not let her get to me. It felt so good.

  What happened next was something I wasn’t expecting. We went into school when the bell rang. I was sitting in the cloakroom trying to re-tie my trainers, but I’d managed to tangle one of my laces into a complicated knot. Zara and Henry had gone on into class ahead of me, and so had almost everyone else. The corridor was quiet, so I couldn’t help overhearing voices. I recognized them as Layla Bishop and Kavita Sharma, who were in my class.

  ‘That stupid idiot, Jack Browning!’ Layla fumed. She added a few more choice and unrepeatable words. ‘Look at my maths book. The cover’s torn right across.’

  ‘How did it happen?’ asked Kavita.

  ‘He wanted me to show him last night’s homework, and I wouldn’t.’ I heard Layla wrench open her locker, throw the book into it and slam it violently shut. ‘He tried to grab the book off me, and he tore it …’

  Their footsteps receded into the distance, Layla still grumbling.

  I don’t know why I did what I did.

  I came out of the cloakroom, and the corridor was deserted. I went over to Layla’s locker and opened it. The maths book with the torn cover lay on top.

  I had a glue pen in my bag. I took it out and stuck the two halves of the cover neatly together. Then I popped the book back into Layla’s locker and went into class.

  ‘Where have you been all this time?’ Zara pounced on me instantly. ‘And what are you smiling about?’

  I was saved from a reply because at that moment Mr Arora stumbled in sleepily to take the register. I couldn’t really understand why I’d repaired Layla’s book for her. She’d never been particularly nice to me, although she’d never been nasty either. It just made me feel great to do something secret, something good …

  And it didn’t stop there either. Now that my eyes were opened, there were lots of secret good deeds that could be done around the school. Tidying lockers. Returning lost property. Cleaning graffiti off tables. Repairing damaged files, folders, books, papers, equipment, PE kit. Leaving a couple of sweets in the locker of someone who was having a bad day. My eyes were dazzled by all the small, secret things I could do to make people, including myself, feel better. By the end of the day I had five or six little secrets to feel good about.

  ‘This is so weird,’ Layla Bishop muttered as she stood by her locker, holding her maths book. A few doors down, I grinned to myself. ‘Am I going mad, Kavita?’

  ‘No, the cover was definitely ripped,’ Kavita asserted. ‘I told you that at lunch time.’

  ‘I know. I’ve spent all afternoon wondering who repaired it.’ Layla peered more closely at the book. ‘They’ve done a good job too.’

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was Zara, accompanied by Henry.

  ‘Ready to go?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure,’ I replied. I followed Zara and Henry out, leaving Layla and Kavita staring at the maths book with puzzled faces.

  ‘Right.’ Zara grabbed my arm as we walked out into the playground. ‘What have you been up to?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said, attempting surprise mixed with innocence.

  ‘Don’t give me that.’ Zara stared aggressively at me. ‘I know someone repaired Layla Bishop’s maths book. And Callum McKenna in Seven D said he found a bag of sweets in his locker.’

  ‘Is he the boy who set fire to his sleeve in chemistry class?’ Henry asked with interest.

  ‘The very same,’ Zara replied. She eyeballed me sternly. ‘I’ve been keeping my eyes and ears open today, Sunita Anand. I know you’ve been flitting around Coppergate like a good fairy, waving your magic wand and doing good deeds.’

  I sighed. ‘All right. It was me, I admit it.’

  Henry grinned.

  ‘But why?’ Zara wailed.

  ‘Surely you know the answer to that by now?’ I replied.

  ‘All right,’ Zara snapped. ‘I don’t mind you doing secret good deeds for me and Henry. It’s all these other idiots I object to. I mean, I overheard Danny Armitage saying that someone had washed his muddy football and put it back in his locker. How stupid is that?’

  I stared at Zara. ‘I didn’t wash any football.’

  ‘Er – that was me,’ Henry said sheepishly.

  I burst out laughing as Zara spun round to face him.

  ‘You as well!’ she spluttered. ‘Well, that’s too much, it really is! You can both stop this nonsense right now!’

  ‘But we enjoy it,’ Henry and I said together, and we beamed at each other.

  ‘Oh, now I’ve heard everything!’ Zara snorted, stomping off towards the bus stop.

  ‘She’ll come round,’ said Henry with a grin.

  ‘And even if she doesn’t, we’re not going to stop, are we?’ I asked.

  ‘No way!’ Henry replied. ‘I’ve already got three lined up for tomorrow.’

  I was feeling so joyful that it seemed things couldn’t get any better. I was wrong. As I marched up the street towards our house, singing to myself, I saw Mum and the twins walking towards me from the opposite direction. This was more than unusual. It was unheard of. They were usually home an hour or more before me.

  ‘Sunita!’ Davey waved at me. ‘We’ve been to Megan’s house for tea!’

  ‘You have?’ My eyes went instantly to Mum’s face. She looked happier and less tense than I’d seen her in a long while. ‘Did you have a good time?’

  ‘Lovely,’ Mum replied. I could see she meant it. ‘And the twins were very good, for once.’

  ‘We’re always good,’ Debbie said indignantly.

  ‘Of course you are,’ I agreed.

  Debbie nudged Davey viciously in the side with her elbow. ‘Race you to the front door!’ she yelled. ‘Last one there is a big fat pig!’

  ‘Jan was so kind,’ Mum went on as the twins flung open the gate and disappeared into our garden. ‘She didn’t ask me about your dad at all. I’d forgotten how nice it feels just to sit and chat like a normal person.’

  ‘We are normal people,’ I said firmly. ‘Well, except for Davey and Debbie maybe.’

  Mum laughed. But the smile was soon wiped off her face when we heard Davey yell, ‘Mum, there’s something funny on our doormat!’

  Mum and I both broke into a run, heading for our gate. Davey and Debbie were crouched over a small cardboard box on the mat. It wasn’t taped down. The flaps were loose. There was no address on it.

  ‘What do you think it is, Sunita?’ Mum whispered. I knew she was thinking the same thing as me: that it might be something to do with Dad.

  ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ I said. ‘Stand back, kids.’

  I peeled back the flaps and looked inside. The box held a large, round cake tin with a picture of Edinburgh Castle on the lid.

  ‘I don’t think it’s an unexploded bomb,’ I remarked, taking the lid off. We co
uld smell ginger and lemon and walnuts. We all peered into the tin. There sat a large, golden-brown cake.

  ‘Oh, my goodness,’ Mum breathed. ‘Who on earth has left that there?’

  ‘It’s got to be one of the neighbours,’ I said. ‘Mrs Brodie? She must have guessed it was you who’s been doing all those good deeds.’

  ‘How kind.’ Mum’s eyes were a bit teary again.

  ‘Mum, don’t start crying,’ I said, smiling to stop myself doing exactly the same thing.

  I’d realized something amazing. That while doing secret good deeds made you feel great, having someone secretly do something kind and generous for you was just as wonderful.

  ‘Everyone in Year Seven is talking about us,’ Henry informed me with satisfaction. ‘But, of course, they don’t know it’s us.’

  It was lunch time, the end of the week. Despite Zara’s sarcastic jibes, Henry and I had continued to do secret good deeds for our fellow Year 7 pupils every single day. At first it seemed as if no one had noticed. But gradually we’d heard people start asking their friends if they knew anything about the lost property returned to them, the possessions cleaned or repaired, the hidden treats in their tidied lockers. As Henry and I did more and more good deeds, more and more people became interested and intrigued, and, suddenly, everyone was talking about it. Yesterday I’d overheard Layla Bishop, Kavita Sharma and Bronagh Kelly discussing who could be responsible. But no one had any idea it was me and Henry.

  ‘I love doing the good deeds,’ Henry went on, beaming with delight. ‘It’s the best thing ever.’

  ‘By the way, how are you getting on with your mum?’ I asked. Reports from the Williams household had been good too, for the last few days.

  ‘Loads better,’ Henry replied enthusiastically. ‘I do things for her all the time. This morning I put all the washing in the machine before she got up.’

  ‘Great.’ I looked closely at Henry. I thought he looked just a tiny bit lighter than a couple of weeks ago. He seemed to have lost one of his chins. But maybe it was all in my mind, so I said nothing.

  ‘Sunita, I forgot to tell you something,’ Henry went on, looking at me a bit anxiously. ‘Do you remember last week when Mr Arora sent me to the office with a note?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Why, is it important?’

  Henry shook his head. ‘Not really. It was just that – well, you know Dean Ashton in Year Nine?’

  ‘No.’ I groaned. ‘Henry, will you please get to the point?’

  ‘Dean’s got those flash Predator football boots like David Beckham—’

  ‘Henry!’ I pretended to grab him around the throat.

  ‘OK, OK.’ Henry fended me off. ‘Well, when I was on my way to the office, I saw his boots lying in the Year Nine cloakroom. I knew they were his because they had his name in …’ He stared guiltily at me. ‘So I put them back in his locker. Just in case they got lost or stolen. I know we were only supposed to be doing the secret good deeds for Year Seven, but—’

  ‘Well, I’m shocked.’ I stared sternly at him. ‘I shall certainly never speak to you again.’

  ‘Oh.’ Henry smiled at me. ‘For a minute there I thought you were serious.’

  ‘I actually think it’s a great idea,’ I went on eagerly. ‘Why shouldn’t we branch out into the rest of the school?’

  Henry frowned thoughtfully. ‘No one notices us around the Year Seven corridor, but it would be different in the upper school. Still, I reckon we could do it.’

  ‘Let’s,’ I agreed. ‘Even if it only winds Zara up, that’ll be something!’

  ‘Talking of Zara, she’s been a long time, hasn’t she?’ Henry glanced at his watch. ‘I thought she was only popping inside to get her chewing gum.’

  ‘Really?’ I said disbelievingly. ‘I think it’s time we sorted out Madame Zara once and for all.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Henry followed me as I headed into school, keeping a sharp lookout for any roving teachers.

  ‘Well, someone’s been keeping my locker tidy all week,’ I replied. ‘And if it’s not you—’

  ‘It isn’t,’ Henry broke in.

  ‘Then there’s only one other person it can be.’ I stopped at the corner and peered round the wall into the Year 7 corridor. ‘Aha! Caught red-handed!’

  Zara had her head inside Henry’s locker. She was tidying manically, screwing up bits of rubbish and tossing them into the wastepaper basket at her side. She was so intent on her work, she didn’t hear us walk up behind her.

  ‘Having fun?’ I asked.

  Zara almost leaped out of her skin. She blushed redder than I’d ever seen her blush before.

  ‘Thanks, Zara.’ Henry beamed as he peered into his locker. ‘It looks great.’

  ‘Don’t thank me,’ Zara snapped. ‘I only did it because it was so messy, it was getting on my nerves.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Henry chuckled. ‘You’re just as much into the good deeds as me and Sunita. You don’t want to admit it, that’s all.’

  ‘Maybe you should try it out at home, Zara,’ I remarked. ‘It’s doing wonders for Henry and his mum.’

  Zara did not reply but, if anything, she turned even redder.

  ‘You already have!’ I gasped in amazement.

  ‘Tell all,’ Henry demanded.

  ‘Why do you two have to make such a big deal out of everything?’ Zara muttered. ‘All right, I did some stuff around the house for my mum. So what?’

  ‘Was she pleased?’ Henry asked eagerly.

  Zara sniffed. ‘She didn’t even notice!’ she snapped. ‘Well, that’s not surprising really, considering the madhouse we live in.’ And she turned away as if she wanted the conversation to end right there.

  ‘But she did notice eventually?’ I persisted.

  Zara nodded impatiently.

  ‘And was she pleased?’ Henry asked again.

  Realizing we weren’t about to let her off the hook, Zara lowered her eyes. ‘She cried,’ she admitted, looking more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen her look before.

  Henry and I were both silent. I couldn’t imagine that Zara was the easiest person to live with, and from the few things she’d said before, and what we’d seen when her parents picked her up that day, I knew that life at her home wasn’t great. Now she seemed just a little ashamed of how she’d been behaving before, and I wondered if this could be a tiny turning point.

  ‘Well, now that we’ve all finished polishing our haloes, we’d better go outside before a teacher catches us,’ Zara snapped, stomping off down the corridor.

  Henry and I followed. I wondered if there could be anything more amazing than sarcastic and prickly Zara getting into the secret good deeds. But there was.

  We were in the classroom after lunch, waiting for Mr Arora. Like he always did, Jack Browning was taking 50p bets on how late Mr Arora would be for registration. Sometimes he was only a minute or two before the bell for lessons, and he had to take the register at breakneck speed. Celina was painting Chloe’s nails. Danielle and Jyoti were flicking through magazines. Zara, Henry and I were chatting.

  Suddenly a great shriek rent the air.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Celina snapped, just catching the bottle of nail varnish before it tipped over. ‘What did you do that for, Kavita?’

  Kavita Sharma was standing by her chair in the middle of the classroom, her face flushed. She was clutching an MP3 player to her chest.

  ‘Someone’s fixed it!’ she spluttered.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Layla Bishop asked.

  ‘My MP3 player!’ Kavita waved it at her. ‘It wasn’t working so I left it in my bag – and now it’s working! Someone repaired it!’

  ‘Like my maths book,’ added Layla.

  ‘The mystery do-gooder strikes again,’ said one of the boys, Charles Bolton. There was a buzz of excited chatter as everyone began talking and speculating at once.

  ‘Well done, Sunita,’ Henry whispered in my ear. ‘I didn’t know you were a techno kid.
’

  ‘It wasn’t me,’ I whispered back. ‘I thought it was you.’

  Henry shook his head. We both turned and looked at Zara.

  ‘Oh, get real,’ Zara snorted. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’

  I clapped my hand to my mouth. ‘Oh!’

  ‘What is it, Sunita?’ Henry asked.

  ‘Don’t you see?’ My voice was trembling so much, I could hardly get the words out at all. ‘If it wasn’t one of us, then it must have been someone else.’

  Zara and Henry looked blank.

  ‘Brilliantly deduced, Sherlock,’ Zara said. ‘Here, have a medal.’

  ‘No, no, no!’ I whispered. ‘Don’t you understand? It means that other people have begun doing secret good deeds too! Henry, Zara, I think we’ve started something …’

  ‘So what’s the story with all these secret good deeds?’

  I stopped in my tracks. I tiptoed into the Year 7 cloakroom, and flattened myself against the wall out of sight. I didn’t make a habit of listening to teachers’ conversations. But this I had to hear.

  ‘The kids in my Spanish classes haven’t stopped talking about it for the last week,’ Mr Hernandez went on. ‘And my Year Eight form think it’s the best thing since sliced bread. I haven’t seen them so excited since I tripped and head-butted the whiteboard.’

  ‘I know,’ replied Mr Lucas. ‘My Year Tens don’t think it’s cool to get excited about anything, but this has really got them going.’

  ‘Have you noticed that there’s a different atmosphere around the school these days?’ Mr Hernandez went on. ‘It’s happier, somehow.’

  ‘Well, anything that keeps the kids happy makes our lives easier,’ Mr Lucas said. ‘Shame they can’t start doing secret good deeds for the teachers …’

  Their voices died away down the corridor.

  ‘Your wish is my command,’ I murmured. I stepped out of my hiding place and hurried towards our classroom. It was the end of the day, and most people had already left. Zara and Henry were waiting for me out in the playground, but there was something important I had to do first …

  The last two and a half weeks had been mental. I was right. Henry, Zara and I weren’t the only ones doing the good deeds now. More and more Year 7 kids were joining in every day. So Henry and I had begun spreading our secret good deeds around the school. The first thing I did was to leave a pretty mauve gel pen, which I’d only used once, in Amber Dhillon’s locker.