by Judi Curtin
‘Who lives here?’ asked Alice.
‘A man and his wife,’ I said. ‘They only moved here last week. I’ve never met them before. They’re Polish.’
‘Leave this to me, then,’ said Alice. ‘I’m good at sign language.’
‘Maybe they speak English,’ I said, but before Alice could answer, the door was open and the man was standing looking at us.
‘Did……you……lose……a……cat?’ asked Alice in a very slow and very loud voice.
Then before the man could reply, Alice put on a sad face, and started miaowing softly.
The man folded his arms, and stared at Alice like she was crazy. She didn’t seem to notice.
‘CAT…LOST,’ she shouted so loudly that the man had to take a step backwards.
Then he shouted back at her.
‘Cat!’ he said. ‘I…like…cat. Is…my… favourite … food. Yum … Yum!’
I gasped.
How could I keep Domino away from this mad, cat-eating man?
Suddenly the man started to laugh.
‘I am making a joke,’ he said. ‘I am not deaf. I can speak English. I do not eat cats. I have not lost a cat. Do you want anything else?’
I giggled.
‘No, thanks,’ I said.
Then I grabbed a very red-faced Alice and we ran all the way back out on to the street.
‘How was I supposed to know?’ asked Alice, but I was too busy laughing to answer her.
That night I sneaked Domino in to my bedroom, and she slept curled up on the end of my bed. When she was next to me, the whole Marcus thing didn’t seem so bad.
Chapter twenty-two
First thing in the morning, I sneaked Domino out through my bedroom window. She didn’t want to go. I knew how she felt – I would have liked to stay curled up in my bed too.
Marcus didn’t talk to me at all during the first three classes. He just sat there looking pale and scary.
When break-time came, everyone else got up and left the classroom. I couldn’t take it any more.
‘I’m sorry, Marcus,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry that you haven’t studied for your exams. I’m sorry you’re all mixed up. I’m—’
He put up his hand to stop me.
‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to know.’
‘Fine,’ I said impatiently. ‘I’ve forgotten it already. Now excuse me, please, I want to go and meet my friends.’
I pushed past him, and as I did so, one of my arms brushed against his side.
Suddenly Marcus moaned. Then he doubled over, kind of crumpling down on to the chair he’d just been sitting on.
I felt a sudden flare of anger.
What was he on?
I’d barely touched him.
Surely he didn’t expect me to believe that I’d hurt him?
He always acts so tough, so how could brushing past him actually hurt?
But why wasn’t he saying anything?
And why was his face even paler than ever – almost as white as the white-board at the top of the classroom?
‘I’m so sorry, Marcus,’ I said. ‘I didn’t mean. I—’
Marcus shook his head.
‘It’s not you. You didn’t do anything.’
‘Then why …?’ I didn’t know how to finish.
Marcus stood up, holding his side. He gave a funny smile that made him look even sadder than before.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It’ll be better before too long.’
‘What will be better?’
‘This,’ he said, and as he spoke he lifted up the side of his shirt.
Now it was my turn to sit down quickly. There was a gross black and blue bruise all down one side of Marcus’s body. Even looking at it gave me a funny pain in my own side. My head went all woozy, and I felt like I was going to faint.
‘What … what happened?’ I asked as soon as I felt brave enough to talk.
‘My dad,’ Marcus said quietly. ‘He … he …’
‘He what?’
‘Well it was my own fault really,’ said Marcus. ‘I should have known not to go bothering him when he was tired. He’s always worse then. He’s …’
He stopped talking, and tucked his shirt back into his trousers. I was glad not to be looking at the gross bruises any more, but I couldn’t forget them just because they were now hidden by Marcus’s not-very-clean school shirt.
‘You have to tell someone,’ I said. ‘You have to tell the police. Or a doctor. Or a teacher, or someone. There has to be someone you can tell.’
Marcus shrugged.
‘Why would I want to tell?’
‘So they could help you, of course.’
Marcus shook his head.
‘If they knew about this, they wouldn’t let me live with Dad any more.’
‘Wouldn’t that be a good thing? If he … I mean … if he …’, I stopped and pointed at Marcus’s side.
‘Dad’s all I’ve got. I haven’t got any other family. If I don’t live with Dad, I’d have to go to a foster home or something, and I so wouldn’t want to do that.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
He shrugged again.
‘Nothing. If I don’t annoy him, this kind of thing won’t happen again. If I do really well in my Christmas tests, Dad will be pleased, and he’ll leave me alone all through the holidays.’
I gulped.
‘So you’re really going to go through with it? You’re really going to steal the exam papers?’
He nodded.
‘I have to. I don’t have any other choice.’ Before I could think of an answer, he continued, ‘And you’re going to help me.’
And as I looked at him standing there, pale and tired and sick-looking, there was only one possible thing I could say.
‘OK,’ I whispered, and it was settled.
Chapter twenty-three
This was the scariest thing that had ever happened to me.
This was scarier than when Alice and Hazel sneaked out from summer camp.
It was even scarier than when Alice and I got lost in the forest in France.
Why had I agreed to help Marcus?
But what would happen to him if I didn’t help him?
And what would happen to me if I did?
* * *
At lunch-time, I found myself sitting in the secretary’s office. The plan was that I was supposed to pretend to be sick. I didn’t have to pretend though – I really felt like I was going to throw up any second.
‘You poor little scrap,’ the secretary said. ‘It’s so awful when you don’t feel well, isn’t it.’
I nodded, too nervous to be cross with her for speaking to me like I was five.
‘Now here’s the phone,’ she continued. ‘Just give your mum a quick call, and she can come and pick you up and take you home to your own lovely, warm bed.’
Marcus had thought of everything, and he had told me exactly what to do next. I took the phone from the secretary, and I dialled my own mobile number. I knew that my mobile phone was switched off in my pocket, but even so, I was half afraid it was going to ring.
I handed the phone back to the secretary.
‘It’s busy,’ I said.
She smiled at me.
‘Oh dear. Is your mum a bit of a chatterbox? You can try again in a few minutes. You just sit there and relax.’
Sit there and relax?
I was in the middle of the worst thing I’d ever done in my whole life, and she expected me to relax?
The secretary returned to her work, and I sat there, trying not to throw up all over her office.
Behind the secretary, I could see a set of shelves lined with stacks of pages.
Suddenly I understood the true horror of what I had agreed to do. My hands started to shake so much I had to sit on them to try to make them stop.
My parents would never, ever forgive me if they ever heard about this.
And I wouldn’t blame them.
Even Alice,
who often did bad stuff, would never forgive me for this.
I was just about to do a very, very bad thing.
Maybe I should stand up, tell the secretary I felt better and walk out of the room?
Suddenly I remembered Marcus’s pale face, and the dark, black bruise on his side.
What would I tell him if I changed my mind?
And what would he tell his father when he failed his Christmas exams?
And what would his father do to him?
I tried to breathe deeply to calm myself down, but it didn’t work. I could hear funny gasping noises, and it took me a few seconds to realise that they were coming from my own mouth.
The secretary looked up.
‘You poor little—’, she began, but she didn’t finish her sentence.
Just then there was loads of shouting in the corridor outside the door.
‘What on earth is that noise?’ said the secretary. ‘It sounds like the school is falling down.’
I knew what the noise was, but I wasn’t about to tell the secretary. I knew that it was Marcus and one of his friends, deliberately making noise, creating a distraction.
The noise got louder, and there was a huge crash, as if someone had been pushed into a wall.
The secretary jumped to her feet, opened the door and looked out.
‘Oh my goodness, it’s a fight,’ she said. ‘Stop it right now, you bold boys!’
Then she stepped outside into the corridor and I watched in horror as the door closed softly behind her.
This was my chance.
Whether I liked it or not.
I stood up, wondering if my legs would be strong enough to hold me up. I tip-toed past the secretary’s desk, to the shelves. There, just as Marcus had predicted, were neat piles of exam papers. The row nearest to me was labelled ‘First Year’. Then each stack was labelled by subject. I glanced over my shoulder. The door was still closed, but from outside I could hear grunts and moans and funny bumping noises.
It was now or never.
Never felt like the best option. I ran back to where I had been sitting, sat down and closed my eyes. I wasn’t brave enough. I would never be brave enough to do something like this.
Suddenly the picture of Marcus’s bruised side flashed into my mind again. Right now, he was outside the secretary’s door, probably picking up more bruises, just so he wouldn’t get into more trouble with his dad. He was depending on me, and it wasn’t fair to let him down.
I took a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to steady myself. Then I stood up again, and walked over to the piles of exam papers. Taking another deep breath, I reached out and grabbed one sheet from the top of each pile in the first year row. Then I raced back to my seat and stuffed the pages into my schoolbag.
Just as I was fastening the clasps on my bag, the door opened and the secretary came in. She was all hot and nervous-looking.
‘Well, I’m glad that’s all over,’ she said. ‘It’s lucky the principal came along when she did. What on earth were those silly boys thinking of, starting a fight right outside my office door?’
I don’t think she expected me to answer this, so I didn’t.
Then she continued.
‘And you, you poor little girl. I hope those bold boys didn’t frighten you?’
I was very frightened, but not because of the fight, so again I didn’t reply.
She reached for the phone.
‘Here, dear,’ she said. ‘You can try to ring your mother again.’
I shook my head.
‘Actually I feel a bit better now,’ I said. ‘Maybe I just needed a little rest. I think I might go back to class now.’
She looked surprised.
‘Are you sure?’ she said.
I nodded, trying to look healthy.
‘Sure, I’m sure. Whatever it was is better now. I’m fine, really.’
She smiled at me.
‘If you’re sure. But remember, if you feel sick again, just drop in and let me know.’
Then, feeling really, really bad, I stood up and opened the door.
There was no one outside in the corridor.
‘Er, where are the boys who were fighting?’ I asked the secretary.
‘Oh, you poor little thing,’ she said. ‘Are you afraid to go out there? Are you afraid you’re going to meet those boys?’
No. Actually I want to meet them, so I can give one of them this bundle of exam papers that I’ve just stolen from your office.
Before I could think of a good reply, she spoke again.
‘You don’t have to worry about them. They’re gone to Mrs Kingston’s office, and I expect they’re going to be there for a very long time.’
So now I had to wander around the school for the afternoon with a set of stolen exam papers in my bag.
Great.
* * *
Marcus didn’t show up for any classes after lunch. After school was over, I hung around Mrs Kingston’s office for a while, hoping that he would appear. He didn’t though, and I was too afraid to ask anyone if they’d seen him.
I knew Mum would soon be sending out a search party for me, so I set off for home. My school-bag felt heavier than it ever had before. It pulled down on my shoulders like there was an elephant inside. I half-felt that the papers were going to burn a hole right through the bag, and that soon I would be walking along in a huge cloud of smoke.
Mum was in the kitchen when I got home.
‘Hi, love,’ she said. ‘Did you have a nice day?’
I felt like running over to her and telling her everything, but how could I do that?
So I just muttered, ‘Fine, thanks,’ and went to my room before she could protest.
Once I was safely in my bedroom, I opened my bag, took out the exam papers and put them on my desk.
A new thought came to me.
Should I look at the papers?
After all, I’d taken the risk and stolen them, so why shouldn’t I read them, and get fantastic marks in my exams?
And then, all of a sudden, I realised once again what a very, very bad thing I had done.
I grabbed the papers, and shoved them under my mattress.
Then I ran out of the room, slamming the door behind me.
I went out to the garage, picked up Domino and hugged her. She was as soft and warm and cuddly as ever, but it was no good. Even hugging Domino couldn’t make me forget what I had done.
Chapter twenty-four
I had terrible nightmares that night. All night long I dreamed I was being chased by teachers waving bundles of exam papers at me, and screaming that I was a cheat.
In my dreams that night, even Domino didn’t love me any more.
In the morning Mum came and shook my arm to wake me up.
‘I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it,’ I shouted.
Mum laughed.
‘Didn’t do what? Did you do something bad in your dreams? Do we need to take your phone from you to punish you?’
I opened my eyes and closed them again quickly when I saw Mum smiling down at me. If my parents ever discovered what I had done, they wouldn’t just take my phone. They’d take my phone, and anything else they thought might make me happy, and they’d make a huge bonfire of them. Then they’d ground me for a few thousand years.
Mum laughed again.
‘Come on, sleepyhead. Forget your dreams. It’s time to get up for school.’
I shook my head.
‘I can’t get up, Mum. I’m sick.’
Mum leaned over me and looked closely at me.
‘You know, Megan, you do look sick,’ she said. ‘Maybe you should stay at home today.’
Mum never, ever falls for it when I pretend to be sick. Only thing is, I wasn’t pretending. I really did feel sick. I felt sicker than I ever had before. Even the thought of going to school made me feel all weak and shaky.
Mum rubbed my forehead.
‘You go back to sleep for a while, and later on I’ll bring you a nice warm
drink.’
Then she suddenly looked worried.
‘Oh, but what about your exams?’ she said. ‘You know they’re on next week, don’t you?’
Of course I knew the exams were next week. After all, the papers were stacked up under my mattress.
I sighed.
‘I’ll just have to work extra-hard at the weekend,’ I said.
Mum smiled.
‘I know you will. You’re a good girl, Megan. Dad and I are so proud of you.’
Then she went out of the room, and I turned my face into my pillow and cried myself back to sleep.
* * *
I woke up to a beeping sound – my mobile phone. I looked at the time. It was half-past ten, break-time at school. There was a text from Alice.
Called 4 U. Ur mum said U R sick. Hope not 2 bad.
I texted back.
Thanks.
I couldn’t manage to say any more.
Just as I sent the message, my phone beeped again. This time the message was from Marcus. The sight of his name flashing up on my phone gave me a pain in my stomach. I opened the message. It was very short.
Where R U?
I felt like throwing my precious phone out the window. I didn’t though. I knew I had to reply.
Am at home. Very sick.
I typed with shaking hands.
Seconds after I had sent the message, Marcus’s reply came.
B at skool on Monday. Or else…
Or else what?
I didn’t like to think what he meant, but I knew it wasn’t anything nice.
Even though I was in my own bed, in my own house, I felt like I wasn’t safe any more.
Just then Rosie came in. She jumped on to my bed, and then crawled in under the covers.
‘Will I cuddle you until you’re all better?’ she asked.
I felt like crying.
Why couldn’t life be simple any more?
All the cuddles in the world couldn’t make me better.
Then Mum came in.
‘Megan, if you’re sick, maybe you should turn your phone off,’ she said.
For once she was right. If I left my phone on, I might get another text from Marcus, and I so didn’t want that. So I switched off my phone and put it on the floor next to my bed.