Bad Dreams by Anne Fine Read Free Book Online Page B

you think I’ve been doing?’
    â€˜Well, isn’t it? Dragging me off to the library when you can’t find exactly what you want here in school? Making me hang around while you peer into every single book?’
    â€˜I’m only trying to find something that has to be there.’
    Her eyes flashed. ‘Oh, yes! It has to be there, of course! You know! And that’s the trouble with you, Melanie Palmer. You think you know everything . But it doesn’t even seem to have sunk into your big, fat, book-swollen brain that in that library there were about a billion books about harnessing the ancient mysteries, but none at all about giving it up!’
    And she was rumbled. I had rumbled her. It’s words , you see. Miss Rorty knows the spin on a ball. Mum senses when I’m coming down with something. Mr Hooper knows when someone’s had too much help with their homework.
    And I know words. I know exactly how they fit, and where they belong. I know who uses which ones, and I can always sense when they are out of place.
    Or have been borrowed.
    â€˜â€œ Harnessing the ancient mysteries ”? Is that what your mother calls it?’
    It was as if I’d pressed some button that said, ‘ Detonate! ’ She went berserk. Tears spurted, and she flew at me, practically pushing me backwards off my chair.

    â€˜Shut up! My family’s nothing to do with you! So just shut up!’
    And don’t we all know those words, too! Neil used to yell them all the time when his dad went to prison, and people in the classroom made even friendly remarks, or asked even reasonable questions. So now I at least had a clue to why Imogen kept secrets from her giddy, childlike mother, and hid the strains of all her days in school, and tried to keep pleasing with this horrible ‘gift’ of hers.
    Like Neil, she was just trying to protect someone she loved who couldn’t help but embarrass her.
    And she had made enough noise doing it. Now everyone was staring. And when Mr Hooper came in through the door a moment later, his eyebrows were already raised. He must have heard from outside in the corridor.
    I didn’t want to make things worse for her. So I just tried to make a joke of it, moving my chair back and raising my arms, like someone protecting themselves from an attacker. But to her, I whispered, ‘Sorry! I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything nasty. I just thought it didn’t sound like you. But I wasn’t being rude about your mother again, honestly. In fact—’
    If you’d seen her tearful face, you’d have lied too.
    â€˜In fact, I’m sure she’s right. She knows an awful lot more than I do, after all, having a bit of a gift herself. I only dragged you to the library because I was curious .’
    Mollified, Imogen stopped scowling so fiercely.
    â€˜Friends?’ I asked tentatively.
    There was a moment’s silence, then, ‘All right, then. Friends,’ she agreed, a little unwillingly.
    I didn’t like to push it, so I was good as gold all day. Mr Hooper helped. Twice, he sent me off on good long jobs, to give us a rest from each other. But things were still a little prickly, so when she rather diffidently asked me if I wanted to walk home with her, I didn’t like to tell her it was my swimming evening and I didn’t have time, so I invited her along instead.
    â€˜We practically drive down your street. Mum won’t mind stopping to pick you up.’
    In fact, Mum was delighted. (Like Mr Hooper, she’s always relieved to find I’m not completely allergic to spending time with real people.) So, even though you could tell that something about Imogen made her a bit uneasy, she was nice to her all the way, asking her how she was enjoying being in a new school, and whether she was getting along with Mr Hooper, and what she liked doing best – even trying to get Imogen into the pool as an extra on our