Also by Marianne Musgrove
The Worry Tree
Lucy the Good
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Don’t Breathe a Word
ePub ISBN 9781742744001
Kindle ISBN 9781742744018
The creation and development of this book was made possible through Arts SA and the Richard Llewellyn Arts and Disability Trust.
A Random House book
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney NSW 2060
www.randomhouse.com.au
First published by Random House Australia in 2009
Copyright © Marianne Musgrove 2009
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia.
Addresses for companies within the Random House Group can be found at www.randomhouse.com.au/offices.
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Musgrove, Marianne.
Don’t breathe a word.
For children.
ISBN 978 1 74166 296 2 (pbk).
A823.4
Cover illustration and design by Cheryl Orsini
CONTENTS
Cover
Also by Marianne Musgrove
Title Page
Copyright
Imprint Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1: The Thing
Chapter 2: Balloon Tennis
Chapter 3: White Fluffy Clouds
Chapter 4: The Thin End of the Wedge
Chapter 5: Fizzy and Whizzy
Chapter 6: Only a Kid
Chapter 7: Pirate
Chapter 8: Seven Exclamation Marks
Chapter 9: Do Not Operate Heavy Machinery
Chapter 10: Mentactacle
Chapter 11: Werewolves and Alpaca Poo
Chapter 12: Flatfins
Chapter 13: Very Dangerous Animals
Chapter 14: Gallivanting Around
Chapter 15: Going Pear-Shaped
Chapter 16: Sacred Vow
Chapter 17: All My Fault
Chapter 18: Abracadabra!
Chapter 19: Busted
Chapter 20: I Forbid You
Chapter 21: Keeping Grandpa Occupied
Chapter 22: So Stupid
Chapter 23: No Time for stupid Phobias
Chapter 24: The Girl in the Well
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Dedicated to Mum, Dad, Michelle
and Eliza-Jade
Tahlia said we couldn’t tell anyone. Not ever. Not Annie, not Mahesh, not Mahesh’s mum, not the doctor, not my teacher. We couldn’t even tell Lydia.
‘Especially not Lydia,’ said Tahlia. ‘You can never breathe a word of it. You know what’s at stake.’ She grabbed me by the arm and hauled me into my bedroom. ‘Get your lucky doorknob.’
‘Bossy boots,’ I muttered, reaching under my pillow. The doorknob was made of glass. It had heaps of facets that made it look like a big diamond. I called it lucky because the day I found it, I’d been walking in the park with Mum. It was one of the few memories I had of her.
‘Repeat after me,’ said Tahlia. ‘I, Mackenzie Elizabeth Carew.’
I spat on the doorknob and held it against my heart. ‘I, Mackenzie Elizabeth Carew.’
‘Do solemnly swear never to communicate anything about what happened tonight. Go on, Kenzie, say it.’
I said it.
‘And the rest.’
I closed my eyes and said the sacred words,
‘May my nose fall off and my hair turn blue,
May I fall in a tub full of alpaca poo.’
Tahlia nodded. ‘We have some major thinking to do.’
Two days earlier.
‘Something’s blocking it,’ I said, giving the front door an extra shove. ‘Something heavy.’
‘Let me try,’ said Tahlia, pulling me away. ‘You probably didn’t turn the key properly.’
I rolled my eyes and gestured for her to have a go. She was in such a mood today. Earlier, she’d told me off for letting on we were sisters in front of her dance-class friends. She said I’d done it deliberately. Okay, maybe I did accidentally-on-purpose drop by the studio and call her ‘sis’. Really loudly. Anyway, we were sisters, whether she liked it or not.
She gave the door a good push. ‘That’s weird,’ she said. ‘It really is stuck.’
‘See!’
I peered through the window. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. ‘Tahlia! Look!’
She came over to see for herself. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘Quick! Go round the back and climb in through the bathroom window.’
‘Around the back? Please, Tahlia, can’t you do it? I’d have to, y’know, go past the Thing.’ I drew back, trying to blot it out of my mind.
‘What thing?’ asked Tahlia. ‘Oh, the Thing. Can’t you just shut your eyes or something? I’m too big to fit through the window. Kenzie, please, before it’s too late.’
I glanced through the window again. ‘All right,’ I said, taking a deep breath. ‘I’ll do it.’
The Thing was this massive round water tank down the side of our house. Let’s just say I didn’t like water very much. Big amounts, anyway. A glass of water was okay. Or a dripping tap. What I couldn’t cope with were ponds, pools or big tanks full of the stuff. I took my lucky doorknob out of my pocket, gave it a quick kiss and ran for it, keeping my eyes on the ground.
It wasn’t hard to break in. As Tahlia said, Grandpa’s idea of security was to invite the burglar in for a cup of tea and a game of backgammon. I balanced a bucket on top of the wheelie bin, climbed up onto that, and pushed hard on the window until it opened. When I got inside, I ran, dodging a fallen ladder and some jars of food scattered on the kitchen lino.
I found him in the hallway, lying on the ground, just as I’d seen him from the window. ‘Pirate!’ I cried. That was what we called Grandpa. He had a sunken chest, you see. Sunken chest. Treasure chest. Pirate. Get it? He was stretched out on his back, his body pressed up against the front door. No wonder we couldn’t open it. His face was grey like my school uniform and a red bump had risen on his forehead like a little hill. I felt as if someone had plopped my heart in a bucket and lowered it into a deep dark well. It reminded me of the worst time of my life, when I was little.
‘Don’t be dead, don’t be dead, don’t be dead,’ I said. If something happened to Grandpa, what on earth would Tahlia and I do? I had one hundred and fourteen wishes saved up from saying ‘jinx’ with Annie. Maybe I was too old to believe in wishes. Just the same, I spent them all on making Grandpa alive.
His skin felt funny when I checked his pulse, like crocodile skin, only spongy. Then I heard a voice. ‘Good Lord,�
� it said. ‘Give the old boy a break and stop prodding his vocal cords.’
‘Grandpa!’ I cried. ‘You’re alive!’
‘Yes, Kenzie, I’m quite alive. Just having a little nap.’
There was banging on the window. Tahlia’s face was pressed against the glass, her one blue and one green eye wide with fear. I gave her the thumbs up, then went and opened the back door for her.
Grandpa told us he’d gone up the ladder to change the battery in the smoke alarm. ‘Woke up on the floor with a sore head and a bung leg,’ he said. ‘Figured I’d better sit tight in case I’d broken a bone. After a time, I got a bit peckish, so I ate whatever I could reach on the bottom shelf of the fridge. Those gherkins really are quite tasty. And the corn relish isn’t bad either.’ Grandpa paused. ‘Though to be perfectly honest, girls, the minced garlic wasn’t much chop.’
We laughed, feeling relieved and sick and happy all at once.
‘How did you get into the hallway?’ asked Tahlia.
‘Got bored so I decided I’d better call someone,’ he said. ‘Must’ve tripped on the way, banged me noggin and passed out.’
But if Grandpa had dragged himself along the floor, how could he have tripped? And why was he changing the batteries when the smoke alarm didn’t take batteries? Grandpa knew that. He was the one who’d hardwired the alarm to the electrics. The fright from the fall must have confused him. That was all. What other explanation could there be?
Once we knew Grandpa was okay, we were able to enjoy the ambulance ride. At the hospital, I blew up a surgical glove, tied a knot in the end and played balloon tennis with Tahlia while Grandpa had some X-rays taken. It was nice to hang out with her. Since she’d started Year Nine, it was as if the old Tahlia had been replaced by an alien I called Hormonal Tahlia (not to her face, of course). Hormonal Tahlia went out a lot, chucked mentactacles (spectacular mentals) and wore blue and green contact lenses even though there was nothing wrong with her eyesight. She thought they made her look mysterious, but all they seemed to do was make her stop noticing me.
Puffed out from balloon tennis, I lay down on Grandpa’s bed. Tahlia joined me so we were top and tail. There she lay, all tall and slim. And there I lay, short with no waist, a bit like a potato with legs. Tahlia’s long dark hair flowed out silkily on the pillow. It always did what it was told. I had short reddish hair that might have done what it was told, only I couldn’t be bothered to tell it to do anything.
Tahlia tried balancing the balloon on her finger. ‘You know what, Kenz? That was pretty cool how you went past the water tank and everything. You were a bit of a legend.’
‘Yeah?’ I said. ‘I was so stressed out.’
‘That’s what I mean,’ said Tahlia. ‘I was stressing out, you were stressing out, and you still went ahead and did it.’
I smiled, but only on the inside. I didn’t want Tahlia to think I had a big head.
‘Kenzie,’ she said, batting the balloon in my direction, ‘why did you come to the dance studio today?’
I sighed. ‘It’s a free country,’ I said. ‘I’m allowed.’
‘No need to get defensive. I’m not having a go. I just wondered if you came for a reason.’
I hit the balloon upwards, to see if I could make it touch the ceiling.
‘It’s nothing important,’ I said.
‘You can tell me, you know.’
I really wanted to share with her about the fight I’d had with Annie. How my so-called best friend wanted us to sit with Regan and Tegan from now on. How I so didn’t want to do that. I mean, seriously, hang out with the Egans? Annie said we needed to be in a group since we were starting high school next year. She said she was joining the Egans whether I did or not.
I wanted to tell Tahlia these things, but right at that moment a social worker came into our cubicle carrying an official-type folder. She said her name was Rosie. She had dyed red hair and braces on her teeth even though she was heaps old for them – maybe twenty-five. I asked her about them and she said she was one of seven children and her parents could only afford for the three eldest kids to have their teeth fixed. The youngest four had to wait till they were grown-ups so they could pay for them themselves. ‘The joys of being the youngest child,’ she said. ‘You tend to get ripped off.’
‘Tell me about it,’ I said.
‘Oi,’ said Tahlia, giving me a sisterly whack.
Rosie pulled the curtain around to give us some privacy. ‘FruChoc?’ she offered, holding out a packet. I took one but Tahlia didn’t. She was on a diet (again), trying to lose weight for her dance concert. As if she needed to.
‘How are you girls feeling about today?’ asked Rosie. ‘I’m sure you didn’t imagine the school holidays would begin so dramatically.’
‘Well –’ I began.
‘Why do you want to know?’ interrupted Tahlia.
Rosie smiled. ‘The nurse mentioned you girls are on your own.’
‘I can look after Kenzie perfectly well,’ said Tahlia. ‘No need to fill out any forms about us.’
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I don’t need looking after. I am eleven. Anyway, Grandpa’s been our guardian ever since Mum and Dad died.’
Tahlia gave me a ‘shut up’ look. Jeez, what was her problem? A minute ago, she was all relaxed and understanding, but now that Rosie was here, Hormonal Tahlia was back.
‘I’m sorry about your parents,’ said Rosie.
‘Why are you sorry?’ asked Tahlia. ‘You didn’t do it. People are always saying how sorry they are when they had nothing to do with it.’ She jumped off the bed and checked out a poster on fungal infections.
‘You’re right,’ said Rosie. ‘I guess what I meant was, I’m sorry you had to go through losing your parents.’
I was starting to feel like I was being lowered into that well again. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ I said.
Rosie flipped open her folder. ‘How about we talk about your grandfather instead? The doctor says he may need to stay overnight for observation. Nothing to worry about. It’s just a precaution. Is there any other adult who could look after you?’
Tahlia gave me a warning look, only I couldn’t figure out what she was warning me about. I wondered who we could ask. Annie’s mum? Not after the fight with Annie today. My teacher, Mr Goodfellow? He and Grandpa were members of the Polar Bear club, a group that swam in the sea every day of the year, no matter what the temperature. But no, not after he told me to redo my history project. I’d seriously gone off Mr Goodfellow. There was Mahesh’s mum, I supposed. The Banerjees lived just down the street from us. But that was a ridiculous idea. Why would I even think of Mahesh and his family? They were nice and everything. I mean, there was nothing wrong with Mahesh’s mum. Or Mahesh. Not that I liked him or anything.
‘There’s always Lydia,’ I said.
Tahlia gave me a sharp poke in the back. ‘Shut up, moron!’ she hissed.
I poked her back, which caused Tahlia to pinch me, which caused me to thump her, which caused Tahlia to put me in a headlock.
Before an all-out wrestling match broke out, Rosie interrupted us. ‘Who’s Lydia?’ she asked.
Lydia was our twenty-six-year-old half-sister. Mum only meant to have one kid, but then she got married again. She called Tahlia her ‘pleasant surprise’. I called Tahlia my ‘unpleasant surprise’ (but only when I was a good five metres away, with a quick escape route). I was a deliberate non-surprise. Mum thought Tahlia should have a friend to play with, so she had me.
‘What’s happened?’ said Lydia, as soon as she heard my voice. ‘I can tell something’s wrong.’
‘Everything’s fine,’ I said, holding Tahlia’s mobile away from my ear. ‘It’s just that Grandpa fell off a ladder.’
‘He’s had a fall? Where? How? Is he all right? You’d better call an ambulance. No, wait. I’d better do that. You keep him calm.’
‘Lydia –’ I began.
‘I said, keep calm! And don’t give him fluids! Or food! He migh
t need an operation.’
‘Lyd–’
‘And don’t move him! He might have broken his spinal cord. Keep him as still as possible.’
‘Lydia!’ I shouted. ‘We’re already at the hospital. I called an ambulance and they took us to St Bridget’s.’
‘You’re at St Bridget’s Hospital?’
‘Yes.’
There was silence for a moment. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so? I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.’
About forty minutes later, Lydia’s enormous orange maternity dress came striding up the corridor. Lydia was inside it. (It would’ve looked pretty silly if Lydia’s dress had turned up without her.) It occurred to me that my niece was in there. In a few weeks’ time, I’d be an aunt.
‘How are you, darling?’ she asked. Even though I’d seen her a couple of months ago, she hugged me as if we were long-lost relatives reunited on The Oprah Winfrey Show. ‘I had no idea Grandpa was so frail.’
‘He’s not frail,’ I said. ‘He’s …’
She went to hug Tahlia. Tahlia moved behind the bed. ‘Hi, Lyd,’ she said.
Lydia dropped her arms. ‘So tell me, what’s his status?’
‘They’re taking X-rays of his leg,’ I said, ‘to see if he’s broken anything. Plus, they’re scanning his head in a big machine thing.’
Lydia stared at me like I was talking gibberish. I’ve never been to Gibber but they obviously have a very weird, hard-to-understand language because she said, ‘I’d better go and speak to the doctor myself. Just to be sure everything’s all right.’
‘Everything is all right,’ I said.
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