Blood Ties by Sophie McKenzie Read Free Book Online

pretend almost boyfriend. But he was fit. With those lovely, serious brown eyes. And sweet. Trying to find out about his dead father like that. And not wanting to upset his mum.
    Who knew what might happen?
    I felt excited. Awake. Alive. Like I hadn’t for . . . well, for as far back as I could remember.

 
13
Theo
    Rachel’s house was enormous. Red brick and detached with a huge brass knocker on the front door and smart bushes in the garden.
    Inside, the hall was bigger than the whole of our ground floor. I followed Rachel across the criss-crossed wood floor. My trainers squeaked as I walked. We stopped as a door in the corner opened.
    ‘Hiya, sweetie.’ This weird-looking woman stepped out into the hall. She peered into the mirror opposite her. She didn’t look at Rachel or notice me.
    I stared at her. She was really old. Really thin. And her face was all stretched and shiny, like she was wearing a mask.
    ‘Hi, Mum.’ For a second, just as we’d come inside the house, Rachel had looked more normal. Less hunched over. But now she was shrinking down into herself again.
    Her mum looked round and saw me. She jumped and gave a high-pitched squeal.
    ‘Rachel, for goodness’ sake. Who on earth . . .?’ She stared at me, her eyes like little pebbles. ‘What?’
    ‘This is . . . er . . . this is Theo,’ Rachel stammered.
    I stepped forward and held out my hand. It’s not that I’m used to meeting girls’ mothers. Just that my school makes a big deal out of shaking hands – with teachers, before and after sports matches. That kind of thing. So I know what to do.
    The woman took my hand. Hers felt like wire covered in thin foam padding. ‘Mrs Smith,’ she said. She gave my palm a brief squeeze then dropped my hand again and frowned. ‘How do you know Rachel?’
    I glanced at Rachel, but she was back to her whole staring at the ground thing. So I launched into the cover story Rachel had come up with, emphasising how we’d just bumped into each other on the street.
    Mrs Smith led me into the kitchen – another massive room with lots of clear, pale wood surfaces. She sat me down at the table and started asking me questions. Where did I go to school? How come I’d been at the school disco last summer term when I didn’t go to one of the invited boys’ schools? She was all smiley and bright, but her voice sounded hollow.
    My answers got shorter and shorter as I lied about my surname, the name of my school and where I lived.
    I guess Rachel must have seen how awkward I felt, because after a few minutes she gave this nervy little cough from the doorway, where she was still standing.
    ‘Theo said he would help me with my biology homework,’ she said. ‘He’s doing a big project on genetics.’
    Mrs Smith nodded. She had the weirdest eyes. They were set almost flat against the stretched-out skin around them.
    ‘Fine,’ she chirped. ‘I’ll leave you both to get on, then.’ She narrowed her spooky eyes at me. ‘I’ll just be next door. Let me know if you need anything.’
    She trotted out of the kitchen. I breathed out heavily.
    ‘Sorry.’ Rachel came and sat down opposite me. ‘My mum’s a nightmare.’
    I shrugged, privately agreeing, but sensing it might be rude to say so. There was a big clock on the kitchen wall above Rachel’s head. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet.
    ‘When does your dad get home?’ I said.
    ‘Not for a few hours.’ Rachel looked up at me apologetically. ‘Maybe we should work out what your project’s about. Then I’ll go and ask Mum if you can stay for tea.’
    I groaned inwardly. At this rate I wouldn’t be home until ten or eleven. Mum would be going mental. She might even call the police. Still, I was here now. I had to make the most of it.
    My eyes fell on a framed photograph of a girl on the wall underneath the kitchen clock. She was smiling. Really pretty.
    ‘Who’s that?’ I said.
    Rachel stiffened. ‘My sister,’ she said, staring down at the table.
    I