Darkwater by Georgia Blain Read Free Book Online Page A

never told me that was what he had done and so I could only guess, but I supposed it was likely. He had a crush on her. She was upset. And despite being a pain, my brother was kinder than most, he was the type to try and help.
    When her body was discovered, he must have wished he’d left immediately and caught up with her in the street, getting her to talk a bit more about whatever was upsetting her. I know that whenever I thought about her, floating facedown in that water, her foot wedged in between the boulders, the tide lapping over the mud, I wished he had. His regret could only have been worse than mine.

six
    Fact: They don’t give you long to get over the death of a sister.
    About a week after Amanda died, her younger brother Daniel returned to our class. I had expected he would be away for months. The enormity of what had happened seemed to warrant more than just the kind of absence you might have with a flu.
    We were in the maths room, doing a page of logarithms, the overhead fans ticking monotonously as the blades pushed through the thickness of the warm air. I ran my fingers down the columns of numbers, but the heat and the stillness made it hard to keep the rows aligned and I knew I was getting more wrong than right. Next to me, Sonia chewed the end of her biro, the clatter loud as she dropped it on the floor. She bent down to pick it up, but Matthew Digby had already stretched one leg forward and was nudging it towards his own desk.
    Mr Ronsen looked up just as Sonia turned around to demand it back.
    â€˜Silence.’ But because he had a lisp, the word came out as ‘thilenth’, and it was a command that always caused a slight ripple of laughter.
    â€˜Enough.’ He raised his voice now, unperturbed by the amusement. He must have been used to it and had, I supposed, hardened himself against any ridicule caused by his speech impediment. ‘Back to your work.’
    â€˜Glad he said work and not exercises,’ Sonia whispered to me.
    I was about to answer, when the door to the classroom opened, letting in a stream of burning northerly sunlight. Miss Ingleton was at the entrance, and Mr Ronsen pushed back his chair, heaving his heavy frame up from his seat. We could hear them muttering for a few moments, and then Miss Ingleton told us all to put our pens down.
    â€˜Thank you. I only want your attention for a few moments – just to let you know Daniel Clarke is returning to school. I know you’ll all try to help him through this difficult time.’ She looked around the room, her eyes finally resting on Mikey Hayle, one of Daniel’s friends. ‘Mikey, I’d like you to come with me.’
    He stood up in a rush, his exercise book and pencil case hitting the lino, the pens and pencils scattering across the room. Cassie, who was near him, helped him gather them together while Miss Ingleton waited. His freckled face was burning as he hastily tried to stuff everything into his schoolbag.
    None of us knew what to say when they came back to the classroom. We all avoided looking at Daniel as he took a seat. Moments later, I stole a quick glance. He had his head down and was scratching the desktop, gouging a jagged line into the softness of the wood.
    It was only Cassie who was brave enough to ask him how he was going. He just nodded at her, turning back to his carving.
    I admired her in that moment. I think all of us who witnessed that brief exchange did.
    At the end of the hour, I watched as Daniel packed his books in his bag. I waited, hoping to catch him alone before I joined the others for lunch so that I too could say something to him, anything to let him know how sorry I was about his sister. But Mikey stayed close, and I gave up, ashamed.
    Outside, you could hear classroom doors opening, the slap of sandals on concrete and the shout of kids as we emerged from darkened stuffy rooms into the full glare of the day. That was when I saw Nicky Blackwell again. He was