Sunita’s Secret

by Narinder Dhami

  ‘Have you noticed how lots of the other kids are a bit down?’ Zara remarked, reading my mind. ‘I don’t think they wanted it to be Celina at all.’

  ‘I hope they don’t stop doing the good deeds,’ I said anxiously. I wanted that to go on, even if Celina did get all the credit.

  ‘People are still doing them, from what I’ve heard,’ replied Zara. ‘But who knows? Celina might put them off from now on.’

  Henry came out of the hall with the rest of our class.

  ‘Thanks for leaving me behind to listen to that rubbish,’ he grumbled. He took one look at my face. ‘Sunita, are you all right?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘Fine.’ I gave him a shaky smile. ‘That’s it. It’s all over now.’

  But it wasn’t over.

  Things calmed down at school for the rest of the week. Celina was still being praised to the skies by Mrs Bright at every opportunity, but she’d had her fifteen minutes of fame. I hoped that I would get over it and move on.

  But somehow I couldn’t. At school, Celina’s smug face made me feel sick. At home, I was trying to be normal because I didn’t want to tell Mum what had happened. I would, later, when things were less raw, less wounding, and our lives were firmly back on track. At the moment my life seemed to have collapsed again. All I could do was wait. Time passes. Things change.

  If I hadn’t met Celina in Best Burgers that weekend, who knows what might have happened? But I did meet her. Mum had given me permission to go to the pictures on Saturday afternoon with Zara and Henry. Afterwards we went to the burger bar so that I could walk home with Mum after her shift ended. Zara, Henry and I were sitting at a table near the door. I wanted to be as far away from Mum as possible, because every time I glanced up these days, she seemed to be watching me anxiously. I didn’t want her to be anxious. I wanted her to be happy.

  We were eating fries and discussing the film, when Celina and her dad came in. I stopped eating and pushed the fries away. They suddenly tasted like poison in my mouth.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ Zara said, not at all quietly. ‘The mayoral family lowering themselves to eat with the common people.’

  The burger bar was busy, and people were recognizing both the mayor and Celina. Celina loved it. She posed just inside the doorway in her fluffy white coat, pretending to read the neon menu above the counter, but in reality lapping up the stares and whispers of the admiring audience. Which, of course, did not include Henry, Zara and me.

  ‘What do you want, sweetheart?’ her father asked. ‘Have whatever you like.’

  Celina frowned prettily and made her selection. Her dad went off to the counter. He didn’t go to Mum’s till, which I was glad about.

  Celina, meanwhile, looked around the room for an empty table. Then she saw us.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ she said, staring down her perfect pointy nose in our direction. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

  ‘Yes, fancy,’ Zara retorted. ‘Goodbye.’

  Celina’s lip curled into a slight sneer. ‘I don’t actually want to talk to you, you know. I was just being polite.’

  ‘Doing your good deed for the day?’ Henry asked, an innocent look on his face.

  ‘Yes, why not?’ Celina raised her arched eyebrows. ‘Something you lot would know very little about.’

  ‘We know a good deal more than you,’ Zara snapped. ‘Secret good deeds is something we know a lot about.’

  Celina did not flinch. But a very, very slight flush of pink tinged the tips of her ears.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said with a shrug. ‘But maybe you’ll be interested to know that Mrs Bright has told me I’m going to be presented with the Coppergate Cup.’

  ‘The Coppergate Cup?’ Zara and Henry repeated simultaneously. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s a silver trophy that’s awarded to a pupil for outstanding achievement,’ Celina replied loftily. ‘There’s going to be a special assembly next week, and my mum and dad are invited. And the local newspapers.’

  I felt my stomach tying itself in knots.

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ Zara looked extremely scornful. ‘Who’s won this cup before then, and what for?’

  Celina looked lost for words for a moment. ‘Oh, who cares?’ she said impatiently. ‘I’m going to win it, and that’s all that matters.’

  ‘Sounds to me like Mrs Bright has just dreamed up this so-called Coppergate Cup to get some more publicity for the school,’ Zara guessed. ‘That’s what I reckon.’

  ‘I’m afraid you’re confusing me with someone who gives a damn what you think.’ Celina yawned delicately behind her hand. ‘Excuse me.’

  She joined her father, who was carrying a loaded tray to a table not far off.

  ‘The Coppergate Cup!’ Zara said with deep disgust. ‘What a load of old nonsense.’

  ‘It should be Sunita who gets it, if anybody does,’ Henry added.

  I was watching Celina and her father. Little things hit me like darts of deep, stinging pain. The way he put his arm round her shoulders. The way he put salt on her fries, ketchup on her burger. The way he listened to what she was saying. The pride in his eyes.

  I missed my dad.

  A great wave of emotion shuddered through me. Not misery. This time it was rage. I was angry, furious. Celina had everything. I had almost nothing, and she’d come along and stolen a huge piece of what I did have.

  I had tried to do the right thing, tried to be good. I had been so determined that I would show everyone I was a decent person, despite what Dad had done. And where had it got me? Nowhere, that’s where.

  One way or another, I decided, Celina would have to pay.

  The Year 7 corridor was deserted. Everyone was in lessons except me. I had managed to get out of our English literature class by pretending I desperately needed the toilet. I didn’t. I had something else in mind.

  I walked towards the lockers. I knew which one was Celina’s. It had stickers of a boy band she liked on the metal door.

  I stopped, looked around, made sure I was alone. Then I reached out and turned the handle.

  It was locked. I frowned, knowing that a few weeks ago, when I’d returned her bracelet, Celina’s locker had been broken. Maybe Mrs Bright had had it fixed for her golden girl. But that wouldn’t stop me.

  I took an envelope out of my pocket. I knew the letter inside by heart.

  CELINA,

  THERE ARE PEOPLE IN THIS SCHOOL WHO KNOW THAT THE IDEA FOR THE SECRET GOOD DEEDS WASN’T YOURS. SO WHY DON’T YOU JUST OWN UP?

  It had taken me a long time to write. My first attempts had been full of bitterness and resentment. But I’d forced myself to be calmer and cooler. If everything came out into the open, I didn’t want to weaken my case by being spiteful. I’d written the letter in capitals so that Celina would not recognize my handwriting.

  I slid the letter through the gap between the hinges, where the door met the edge of the locker. The envelope was just about slim enough to fit, although one white corner still poked through the gap. I left it there and hurried away as I heard footsteps.

  My English class was working on a comprehension exercise in silence, while Mrs Holland sat at the front, marking books. I slipped quietly into the room and into my seat. Zara and Henry immediately looked up. Ten seconds later, each of them passed me a note. They both read: Are you OK?

  I shrugged and bent my head over my work. The two of them had been watching me closely all morning, never taking their eyes off me when Celina was around. I hadn’t told them about the letter. But maybe, now, things would start to happen …

  ‘You sure you’re all right, Sunita?’ Henry asked me anxiously as we went to the lockers to dump our books after morning lessons.

  ‘Stop asking me that!’ I snapped. ‘I’m sick of it. Read my lips. Yes, I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be?’

  ‘Why should you be?’ Zara retorted. ‘Answer me that.’

  ‘You don’t look right, Sunita,’ said Henry slowly. ‘You look – kind of like you’re b
urning up inside.’

  ‘What, like a volcano?’ I asked sarcastically. I was staring over Henry’s shoulder at Celina. She was standing near her locker, chatting to Danielle. She hadn’t opened it yet. ‘Do you think I’m going to explode and boil over?’

  ‘Yes, sort of,’ Henry replied solemnly, brow furrowed.

  ‘It was Saturday, wasn’t it?’ Her head on one side, Zara stared closely at me. ‘Seeing Celina with her dad.’

  ‘Oh, please.’ I sighed, trying not to show that I was shaken by Zara’s perception. ‘That’s just a load of nonsense. Now, can we please change the subject?’

  ‘Mrs Bright says the Coppergate Cup’s being delivered today,’ Celina announced in ringing, bell-like tones. She was supposedly talking to Danielle, but everyone in the crowded corridor could hear her as clearly as if she had a megaphone. ‘I’m going to her office at lunch time, so I can see it.’

  ‘Ha!’ Zara said with deep satisfaction. ‘I knew that so-called Coppergate Cup didn’t exist until now. It’s just Mrs Bright’s way of getting a bit more publicity for the school.’

  I did not reply and pretended to be busy sorting my books. Celina’s locker key was in her hand. Now it was in the lock, and she was turning it.

  ‘The special assembly’s on Friday,’ Celina went on loudly. ‘My mum and dad are really looking forward to it. My dad says he’s going to buy me a present, anything I want …’

  ‘You’ve got everything you want,’ Danielle said jealously.

  I couldn’t breathe as Celina laughed and began rooting in her locker. She emerged a minute or two later, holding a stack of books. No envelope.

  ‘Let’s go and meet Clo and Jyoti,’ she said.

  I watched as Celina and Danielle walked off, chatting and smiling. It was obvious that Celina hadn’t seen my letter, or she wouldn’t be acting so normally. What had happened to it?

  Zara and Henry were still unpacking their bags, so I wandered casually down the corridor. I wondered if the envelope had fallen out before Celina noticed it, and slipped underneath the lockers.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Zara enquired.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Kneeling down and staring underneath the lockers is nothing?’ Zara raised her eyebrows. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I told you,’ I snapped, ‘nothing.’ I got to my feet and dusted off my ribbed tights. Maybe the letter had fallen inside the locker, and been covered by books. Yes, that was a more likely explanation.

  At least I thought so, until I happened to glance at the bin next to the lockers. There wasn’t much in it so the tiny pieces of paper were quite noticeable. Even though they were small, I could still make out that a note written in capital letters had been torn up.

  With trembling fingers, I picked up a few shreds and pieced them together. It was my note. And there was the envelope underneath, still intact.

  I clutched the bits of paper tightly, crumpling them up in my fist. What had I thought would happen? Had I expected Celina to faint dead away in the corridor like a Victorian lady with the vapours? Did I think she would run screaming and crying to Mrs Bright to confess all?

  No, she’d done exactly what I ought to have guessed she would do. Ripped up the note and carried on swanning around the school, boasting about the Coppergate Cup. I felt sick. How could I have been so stupid? I dropped the pieces of paper and watched them float down, back into the bin.

  The letter hadn’t worked. So now I had to bring out the big guns.

  And suddenly, out of the blue, something Zara had said weeks before swam into my mind.

  I don’t think I’ve mentioned Mrs Shulman yet. Mrs Shulman is my history teacher, and she is possibly the scariest teacher in the school, although she’s shorter than I am. She has black hair, combed back and clipped off her face. Not one hair ever dares to break free. She has piercing brown eyes and a tongue as sharp as a knife.

  If there’s one thing Mrs Shulman hates, it’s people not handing in their homework on time. A few weeks ago, Layla Bishop left an essay at home, and she practically had to be carried out of the classroom and given mouth-to-mouth resuscitation by the time Mrs Shulman had finished with her.

  We had work on the Crusades to hand in this afternoon. I knew what I wanted to do, but I didn’t know how I was going to do it. However, it all became delightfully simple when, after lunch, Celina left her bag with Chloe while she went to see Mrs Bright and the Coppergate Cup. Chloe was distracted by one of the Year 9 boys, a very good-looking one, and when she went across the playground to flirt with him, leaving the bags behind, I seized my chance.

  ‘Secret bad deeds,’ I murmured to myself as I opened Celina’s bag and neatly extracted her history essay. ‘They’re not as much fun as secret good deeds, but who cares?’ And this would be the first of many …

  I slipped Celina’s essay into my bag. I had my back to the rest of the playground so nobody could see me. Then I wandered innocently away. No one challenged me. Chloe was flirting too hard to notice. All I had to do now was sit back in history, the first lesson after lunch, and watch Celina get destroyed by Mrs Shulman.

  ‘Where have you been hiding?’ Zara asked, looking disgruntled. She and Henry had just appeared, after I’d given them the slip fifteen minutes earlier.

  ‘You’re being very secretive, Sunita,’ Henry added gently.

  ‘Am I?’ I asked.

  ‘You know you are,’ Zara retorted.

  ‘Oh, well, you know me,’ I said flippantly. ‘I’m good at doing secret things. Oops, no, I forgot. That’s Celina, isn’t it?’

  Zara and Henry were looking at me strangely, but I didn’t care. Celina might be the golden girl now, but her image would be well and truly tarnished by the time I’d finished with her.

  No one dared be late for Mrs Shulman’s lesson. In the bad old days, when Mr Arora shambled in to take the afternoon register a minute or two before the bell, we’d all be lurking by the door, hopping anxiously from foot to foot, terrified that we’d be delayed.

  Today was no different. We were lined up in a neat, orderly and silent line outside the classroom door before we heard Mrs Shulman’s stiletto heels clicking down the corridor towards us.

  ‘Inside, please,’ she ordered us, sweeping into the room first. She barely reached Jack Browning’s shoulder, but he was just as scared of her as the rest of us.

  We marched in like a well-drilled troop of soldiers.

  ‘Kavita, collect up the homework essays, please,’ Mrs Shulman ordered briskly, cleaning the whiteboard with one flick of her wrist.

  Smiling to myself, I took out my own essay and placed it neatly on the table in front of me. I watched Celina open her bag. Now wait for the fireworks.

  Can you imagine my amazement, my utter horror, as Celina took out her essay and handed it to Kavita? My eyes almost fell out of my head. How???

  Mrs Shulman was telling us which page of our textbook to look at. I wasn’t listening. I was slowly, painfully, working it out.

  I turned to confront Zara and Henry. They were both staring defiantly at me.

  ‘It was you!’ I hissed. ‘You took Celina’s essay out of my bag and put it back!’

  ‘Of course,’ Zara retorted. ‘You don’t think we’re going to let you get into trouble just because of Celina, do you?’

  ‘We were watching you from the other side of the playground,’ Henry added. ‘We saw what you did.’

  ‘It wasn’t me who would have got into trouble!’ I whispered furiously. ‘It would have been Celina, if you two hadn’t interfered!’

  ‘And were you going to stop there?’ Henry enquired.

  I was forced to drop my gaze. ‘It’s none of your business,’ I muttered.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Zara said crisply. ‘Henry and I are your friends, and we’re not going to stand by and watch you get into serious trouble. Let it go, Sunita.’

  I opened my mouth to voice an angry reply, until I saw Mrs Shulman bearing down on us, her eyes flashing a warning.<
br />
  ‘If you don’t mind,’ she said silkily, ‘we would very much like to begin the lesson.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I mumbled. I bent over my book, ignoring Zara and Henry. I was going to pay Celina back, whatever they said. They couldn’t stop me.

  But they did stop me. By mutual consent, Zara and Henry had ganged up to keep me under surveillance like a pair of detectives. I couldn’t move without one of them being right behind me. That was how it was for the rest of the afternoon.

  ‘You can’t keep doing this,’ I said sulkily as we sat on the bus after school. They’d made me so mad, it was the first time I’d spoken to them since the history lesson. ‘You can’t stop me from getting to Celina eventually.’

  ‘You underestimate us,’ Zara said with a grin. ‘Give it up, Sunita. You can’t win.’

  ‘You’d feel happier if you just tried to forget about Celina,’ Henry said wistfully. ‘Wouldn’t you?’

  I ignored them and flounced off the bus. Now I’d fallen out with my friends. No one understood. No one cared how I felt, I told myself self-pityingly.

  The twins were watching TV and Mum was in the kitchen when I got home. She was arranging some pink lilies in a vase.

  ‘Aren’t they lovely?’ she said happily. ‘Mr Chan gave them to me.’

  ‘That’s nice.’ I slumped into a chair and dropped my bag on the floor.

  ‘I’ve been asked to do a few extra shifts over the next few weeks.’ Mum turned back to the lilies and began to tweak them into place. ‘Mrs Brodie said she’ll mind the twins. It means I’ll have some extra money for Christmas presents. Is there something you’d like?’

  My dad.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I haven’t really thought about it.’ And for Celina to get what’s coming to her.

  ‘And I’ve made an appointment to visit the college,’ Mum went on. She sounded so joyful, my heart ached. I wanted to put my head on her shoulder and howl like I did when I was four. But I didn’t. ‘It’s the same day as the twins’ Nativity play at school. It’s a shame you can’t come, Sunita. Debbie’s an angel and Davey’s a sheep. He’s not very happy about it because he wanted to be one of the Wise Men.’ She stood the vase of lilies in the middle of the table. ‘When are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’