A Game For All The Family by Sophie Hannah Read Free Book Online

devoid of all emotion. There’s a new brittleness to her voice that makes me want to howl and smash my fists against the wall. I’m scared that if I can’t think of a way to get through to her in the next twenty seconds, I might lose her forever.
    “If I let you stay home, will you tell me what’s wrong? I’ve got no plans for the day. We can talk it all through— really talk.”
    Ellen snaps her laptop shut. “Way to make me want to rush to school,” she says. “Have you considered a career in truancy prevention? Oh, sorry, you don’t want a career, do you?” She pushes past me on her way out of the room. I watch her in the hall as she pulls her bag off the peg by the door, thinking of all the things I absolutely mustn’t say. All right, you fuck off to school, then. I’ll just stay here all day and worry about you while you have fun with your friends.
    Does she have any friends at the new school? She’s never asked to bring anyone home.
    “Ellen, wait . . . Don’t . . . Where are you going?”
    “School, Mother. I believe we’ve covered that. If I don’t go now, I’ll miss the bus.”
    “Where’s your coat?”
    She stiffens and stops near the door, as if she’s been zapped by invisible rays. “I don’t know. Maybe at school.”
    “Will you have a look for it?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Ellen, wait! Turn around and look at me!” My Strict Mother voice. I haven’t needed to use it for well over five years. “I haven’t seen your coat for at least a week. I should have spotted it was missing before. Where is it? You need it. It’s chilly outside.”
    “I told you: I’ll look at school.” Her bag slides off her shoulder, drops to the floor. I see uncertainty in her eyes.
    “I get that you’re scared of telling me what’s going on,” I say. “But you’re going to because I need to know. If you want something to fear, start being scared of not telling me. That’s what’s going to make me angry. Tell me the truth, and I promise you won’t be in trouble.”
    “I’m going to miss the school bus. Shouldn’t I be hurrying to school to track down my missing coat? Isn’t that what you want?”
    Her callous tone nearly breaks me. It also reminds me of how much I hate to lose any battle.
    Burying the hurt I feel, I say, “Tell you what, forget the school bus. I’ll drive you in. I’ve nothing else to do today.”
    “No. No way! I’m getting the bus. Goodbye.” Ellen reaches for the door handle.
    Two can play the nasty smirk game. “Fine. I’m going to drive to school anyway. I’ll look for your coat on my own, and you can devote your full attention to being oppressed by the regime. How does that sound?”
    Her eyes fill with tears. “No.”
    “Face it, Ellen. You can’t stop me from going to school if I’m determined to. What are you going to do, bash me over the head with an umbrella? Knock me unconscious, lock me in the cellar? If I want to wander the corridors asking everyone I pass about your coat—”
    “All right.” She bursts into tears. “You want to know that much? I’ll tell you! See how much you enjoy knowing.”
    I want to hug her and promise that everything will be okay. I stop myself. It’ll be easier for her to talk if I remain impassive. Please, please, let this be the moment when it all changes. Let this be the beginning of the end of Ellen’s pain, whatever its cause.
    “Go ahead,” I say. “If you’re being bullied, we can tackle it however you want. If you’d like me to go in with all guns blazing, I will. If you want me to find you a different school, I will.”
    “Bullied?” She blinks, as if the possibility hasn’t occurred to her. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m fine.”
    So someone else isn’t?
    “Then what?” I ask.
    Ellen shakes her head and walks past me, back into the house. Too important a conversation to have in the hall.
    I stand still for a few seconds, then follow her. I find her in the kitchen, filling the kettle with