Aunt Leona took a breath. ‘Look, I'll try ringing Celia again, OK? I'll do it now – I'll leave a message for her; I'll make up some reason why I haven't been to the hospital. Don't worry, Sadie, it'll all be OK. Only whatever you do, you can't let anyone know.’
I hung up slowly, the conversation spinning in my brain. And wondered what Mum would think when Aunt Leona rang instead of turning up.
I felt so stupid. I could have put on my Aunt Leona voice and left a message for Mum days ago. I hadn't even thought of that. Mum would never have been suspicious at all.
But now she was.
Lizard Eyes
The next morning, Mrs Dumont sent her breakfast back twice because my ‘aunt’ hadn't done her eggs to perfection. By the time she started saying things like, ‘I've never stayed in a place with such appalling service!’ Mr and Mrs Chambers were glaring at her. They were the only guests left in the dining room by then, and had made a special point the day before of telling me how much they'd enjoyed the Coast Path.
‘I'm sorry – I'll take them back again,’ I said, gritting my teeth.
‘Oh, don't bother!’ Mrs Dumont put her hands on the plate so I couldn't take it away. ‘We've wasted enough time on this.’
Mr Dumont hadn't said a word all this time. He was busy keeping his head down, eating his imperfect eggs.
After all that I was almost late to school. I ran into the courtyard just after the first bell went, with everyone drifting into the school in a river of blue uniforms. I pressed into the crowd, breathing hard.
‘Sadie, could I see you for a moment?’ Vampira stepped out of her office the moment I walked in.
My blood turned to splinters of ice. Oh God, I should have known the Battleship wouldn't let it drop! I looked quickly around for Hannah and Tara, but didn't see them. Not that they could have helped me anyway.
Swallowing, I followed Vampira into her office. Mrs Clark gave me a bottomless look as I passed, like, This is it for you, kiddo.
‘Have a seat.’ Vampira closed the door behind me, and motioned to one of the blue-cushioned chairs in front of her desk. I sat stiffly, and tried to unclench my hands.
She sat across from me, her eyes dark and probing. ‘Sadie, I'd like you to have a look at this.’
Just as I had expected, she handed me my maths paper from yesterday. The Battleship had marked it in red, lines slashing across two of the problems. I licked my lips, staring down at it like I had never seen it before.
‘Is this your own work?’
My mind raced. What had the Battleship told her? I nodded quickly. ‘Yes, miss. I mean, my friend Hannah helped me a bit, but—’
‘I've spoken to Hannah,’ she broke in. ‘I had a word with both her and Tara Bishop yesterday. Hannah tells me that she and Tara do their work together, and that you often copy off them when you think they're not looking.’
Dryness swept my mouth. ‘She – she said what?’
Vampira looked back at me impassively. ‘That you copy off her and Tara. And that she's often tried to stop you, but you won't listen to her.’
I stared at her. I couldn't say anything. The lying cow!
She sat back in her chair, crossing her legs. ‘Mrs Shipton tells me that your work has improved rather dramatically, these last two weeks.’
Flames sizzled my face. I stared at her desk, not lifting my eyes. She had a little vase of dried flowers on it, and a shiny black stapler. Don't tell Mum. Oh, please don't tell Mum.
‘Your other teachers say the same thing.’
I struggled to get the words out. ‘I— I've just been really trying, that's all. Applying myself more.’
Her voice sounded almost gentle. ‘Sadie, when you cheat you're only hurting yourself, you know.’
Well, why are you so bothered, then? I looked down at my shoes, and didn't say anything.
Vampira turned brisk again. ‘We're also very concerned about your attendance since your mum went into hospital. You've been late to school twice, late back from lunch eight times, and absent once.’
My head snapped up. ‘But my aunt rang to tell you about that!’
‘Only about your absence and one of your latenesses. The rest were unexcused.’ Vampira shook her head. ‘Now, I know it's almost the end of term, Sadie, but we're still very concerned, especially with your mum ill.’
I licked my lips, wondering what she was getting at.
And then she got to it. ‘I need to meet up with your aunt to have a chat.’
The floor dropped away from beneath my chair. Vampira's eyes were as motionless as a lizard's. ‘We tried to ring her yesterday, and then again this morning, but we haven't been able to reach her.’
‘No, she— she had to go to Dartmouth yesterday, I think. Um, and maybe again today.’
Something like an actual emotion flickered behind her eyes. ‘Sadie, is everything all right at home?’
‘Yes, everything's great! I mean, I've been worried about my mum, but – but yeah, everything's fine.’
She gazed at me for a long moment, and then picked up an envelope from a plastic tray on her desk. ‘Give this to your aunt for me. Tell her it's urgent that I see her before the end of term on Friday.’
In slow motion, I watched my hand close around it. ‘I will, but – but she's really busy—’
‘Tell her that I must see her. I'll come to her if there's a problem,’ said Vampira firmly.
No Offence
Our first class that day was English, with Mrs Green going on and on about Chaucer and The Canterbury Tales. I sat as far away from Hannah and Tara as I could, staring down at my book. The words churned on the page like bile. Mrs Green might have been babbling away in Latin for all I knew.
After the bell rang, Hannah and Tara caught up with me in the hallway.
‘Sadie, did Vampira talk to you?’ Hannah's eyes were wide and worried.
I kept striding down the hallway, and didn't answer.
They hurried to keep up with me. Hannah's throat moved as she swallowed. ‘Um – what did you tell her?’
‘Nothing,’ I said coldly. ‘So don't worry, the two of you are fine.’
Relief flooded Hannah's face. ‘Oh, Sadie, thanks! You're a star, you really are.’
‘Whatever.’ I clutched the strap to my rucksack so tightly that my fingers throbbed. We went through the doors into the courtyard, heading towards the science block. I walked faster, but they didn't take the hint.
Hannah peered at me as we pressed through a group of Year Tens. ‘You're not angry at us, are you?’
‘Oh no, I'm thrilled! What do you think?’ My voice shook.
She coloured. ‘Sadie, I'm sorry, but – well, there was no point in all of us getting into trouble, was there? And you're more used to it than we are. No one expects you to do well.’
I stopped in my tracks and stared at her, and she smiled uncertainly. ‘I mean . . . well, no offence.’
‘Sadie, we're really sorry,’ burst out Tara. ‘We weren't trying to stitch you up—’
‘No, it just sort of happened, right? Because we're such good friends, and I'm so thick anyway!’ I pushed away from them and ran to our next class. When I got there, I sat in the back, holding a book open in front of me and ignoring them when they came in.
It wasn't too hard, since they seemed to be avoiding me, too.
Sort of Déjà-Vuey
I couldn't go home at lunch with Vampira on the prowl. I couldn't do anything except hide out in the girls’ loos and cry. I went to the ones beside the gym because no one ever goes there at lunch, and just hugged myself and sobbed.
OK, fine – Hannah and I had never been fantastic friends, but at least I had thought we were friends. How could she do this to me, how? And now because of it, Vampira was going to come to my house. She'd know I'd been left on my own; I'd be taken into care. And Mum—
I gasped and leaned against one of the cold ceramic sinks, rubbing my eyes with a sodden wad of loo roll.
‘Um . . .
hi.’
I looked up. Milly stood in the doorway, looking as stricken as if she had caught me with no clothes on.
‘What are you doing here?’ I swiped at my face, throwing the loo paper in the bin.
She shrugged. ‘Going to the loo?’
‘Well, go on, don't let me stop you!’
Milly didn't move. ‘This is sort of déjà-vuey, though, isn't it? I mean, last time you said you had been crying in the loo, and now here you are . . .’ She trailed off. ‘Sorry. Just trying to make it into a joke.’
‘Yes, it's just so extremely funny.’ My eyes started leaking again, and I leaned into one of the cubicles to grab some more loo roll.
‘Um, look . . . do you want to tell me what's wrong?’
‘Why would I?’ I blew my nose. In the mirror, my eyes looked like an albino rabbit's squinting back at me.
Milly shrugged. ‘I don't know. Why not? A problem halved, and all that.’
Maybe she had a point. I sighed and looked down, staring at the cracks on the tiles. They made a sort of snowflake pattern. ‘Milly . . . have you ever heard of Guillain-Barré Syndrome?’
She frowned, her grey eyes thoughtful. ‘No, what's that?’
So I told her, all of it. Her eyes widened when I got to the part about Aunt Leona leaving.
‘You are joking.’
‘Yeah, I wish.’
‘So what did you do?’ She leaned against one of the sinks, staring at me.
I took a breath. ‘I've been running Grace's on my own. That's why I've been late so often. And now Vampira wants to meet Aunt Leona, and—’
‘Hang on.’ Milly looked staggered. ‘You've been running a B&B on your own?’
‘Yeah.’
‘For, like, two weeks now.’
‘Yeah.’
‘But that's amazing.’
I sighed. ‘Milly, it's no big deal. You just make breakfast and make up their beds. Anyone could do it. It's just not getting caught.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Anyone could not bloody do it. I couldn't do it to save my life. God, I can't even make toast! And your aunt couldn't do it, could she?’
‘Yeah, but she's useless,’ I muttered.
‘Well, you're certainly not.’
I stared at her, and she grinned. ‘I mean, if I were stranded on a desert island, you'd be, like, the perfect person to have along. I bet you could make a shelter, and figure out a way to trap food, and—’
‘I just couldn't get good marks,’ I broke in.
‘Who needs good marks on a desert island? This is real life.’
I held a towel from the dispenser under the cold tap, and wiped my face. ‘Well, in real life I'll be taken into care unless I figure out a way to put Vampira off the scent. And Mum . . .’ I swallowed, and couldn't finish.
Milly nodded. ‘Don't worry, we'll figure something out.’
I looked at her. ‘We?’
She smiled. ‘Of course, we. We can't let you get taken into care; what if there's a desert island that needs sorting?’
I've Been Practising
So Milly came home from school with me that afternoon. I saw Hannah and the others staring as we walked down the front steps together, and I looked away, my jaw tightening. Milly didn't seem to notice, or didn't let on if she did.
‘Oh, you live on this street!’ She slowed down, looking at the sign for the beach and then up at the houses. ‘Lucky you. It's like going back in time.’
‘That's ours.’ I pointed to Grace's.
‘Really? God, I'd love to live in a place like that! You could pretend you were a princess or something.’
‘I love it,’ I said shyly. ‘It was the house my dad grew up in.’
I didn't have to say he was dead. Everyone in my year already knew. Usually people's faces froze over if I mentioned him, like, Oh no! What do we do now? But Milly just nodded.
‘That must be really nice. Like having a link with him all the time.’
My cheeks flushed. ‘That's just how I feel.’ Then I felt incredibly embarrassed, talking like that, and I didn't say anything else as we climbed up the drive.
‘I'll have to make up the beds before we can talk,’ I said as I put my key in the lock. ‘They didn't get done at lunchtime.’
Milly followed me in, shutting the door behind her. ‘That's OK; maybe I'll learn a useful skill.’
We went through the corridor and into the lounge. Marcus was there as usual, clicking away at the computer with a lock of his brown hair sticking up. I introduced him and Milly to each other.
‘Cool website,’ said Milly, looking over his shoulder.
He made a face. ‘I have to sort out the reservations bit again . . . she made me take the old one off.’
I rolled my eyes. Yes, that's me, evil thwarter of small boys’ websites. ‘Whatever. We're going up to finish the rooms.’
A smirk crossed Marcus's face. ‘What for?’
‘What for? Er, because the beds need making up.’ He just sat there, looking smug, and suddenly it twigged. ‘You've already done them!’
His face reddened as he grinned. ‘I've been practising.’
‘Come on, show me!’ We all ran to my room, and I ripped the covers off. Taking a deep breath, Marcus slowly, laboriously, made up the bed. And it wasn't perfect when he finished – there were a few little lumps and bumps here and there – but it was definitely a made-up bed.
‘You did it!’
And even though it would have been seriously nice if he had figured this out two weeks ago, it was still pretty wonderful that he had finally got it, and I gave him a hug before I could stop myself.
He squirmed away, grimacing like I had the Black Death. ‘ Sa-die . . . get off!’
Not Bad, Sherlock
Dear Miss Harris,
I am sorry to tell you that Sadie has been caught cheating recently, which appears to be an ongoing problem. I'm also concerned about her attendance of late. Please can you give me a ring as soon as possible to arrange a meeting so that we can discuss these issues before the end of term, and see whether there are any problems that we can help you to resolve.
Sincerely,
Samantha Bodley
Head of Year Nine, Drake Secondary School
‘So,’ said Milly, taking a swig of Coke. ‘Points in our favour: you can imitate your aunt's voice, which is completely amazing, and Marcus can do the rooms by himself now, so you don't need to come home at lunch any more.’
Marcus smiled, and helped himself to a biscuit. We were all sitting out in the garden later that afternoon, with Vampira's letter on the wooden table between us. The sun beat down, warming the faded wood of the patio furniture as the raspy shriek of seagulls called around us.
I pushed my glass of Coke in a circle, following the ring of condensation. ‘I thought of just ringing to say I couldn't make it – you know, as Aunt Leona. But Vampira said she'd come here if Aunt Leona didn't go in.’
‘Let me think . . .’ Milly leaned back in her deck chair, staring up at the silvery branches of our birch tree. I nibbled on a biscuit as I watched her.
‘Right,’ she said finally. ‘Here's what you do. Today's Wednesday, so ring them up tomorrow, maybe from school somewhere if you can find a place to hide, and make an appointment for Aunt Leona to see Vampira on Friday. Then, on Friday, you don't go to school – you stay home, and ring them up as Leona again and say . . . oh, hang on, that wouldn't work.’
‘What?’ I hooked my ankles around the chair legs as I leaned forward. A salty breeze rustled past, lifting the hot air.
Milly shook her head. ‘Well, I was going to say that you'd ring them up and say you're taking dear little Sadie up to Scotland for the summer, so sorry, you can't make the meeting, goodbye. Then it's the end of term, and that would be that. But I think you need an actual adult involved, somehow. Someone they can look at and say, Ah-ha! Someone responsible!’
‘My mum!’ said Marcus, sitting up.
I made a face at him. ‘Marcus
. . . how?’
He shrugged his narrow shoulders. ‘I don't know. She could take a note in, or something. She wouldn't have to know what's in it.’
Milly and I looked at each other. ‘Actually . . .’ I said.
Milly tapped the table. ‘Hang on, hang on – if she didn't say anything, if she just dropped it off and left—’
‘Then they'd think she was Aunt Leona!’ The words bumbled over each other in my excitement. ‘Especially if we put it in a sealed envelope, so that they didn't open it and ask questions straight away – Marcus could tell her that all she has to do is walk in and drop it off at Reception, that they're expecting it!’
Milly nodded slowly, her eyes shining. ‘Not bad, Sherlock,’ she said.
Locked in Hell
I was almost too scared to go and see Mum again, now that she was asking about Aunt Leona . . . but I had to. I couldn't just leave her lying there, all alone. That afternoon I walked into her room like a rabbit heading into a trap – and then relaxed when I saw that thankfully, thankfully, Tricia wasn't there.
‘Hi, Mum.’ I sat down next to her. Her brown eyes moved over to mine. They looked dull, like unpolished wood, and I swallowed.
‘How – how are you feeling?’
No response. Not a flicker, not a flutter.
I fiddled with a shell bracelet that Dad had given me. ‘School's almost finished for the term. Just two more days.’
Her gaze drifted to the window. And suddenly I realized how much she had managed to say to me without saying a word, this last week or so. Because now she was gone.
My voice cracked. ‘Um . . . Aunt Leona says that when I'm out of school, I can help out more at Grace's . . .’ I trailed off. Mum was still looking away, not moving, not smiling, not anything.
‘Mum, I'll— I'll be right back.’ I gripped her hand for a second, and then rushed out of the room.
I found Brenda at the nurse's station, filling out a form. She looked up when she saw me. ‘Sadie, what's wrong?’
‘It's Mum, she—’ I struggled to speak.
She leaped up like a greyhound about to burst from the gate. ‘What? Is the ventilator still working?’
Breakfast at Sadie's Page 10