Secrets by Nick Sharratt Read Free Book Online Page A

flat on his back with his arms flung out and his feet sticking out of the duvet. There’s always a fug of old sock in his room so I don’t linger long. He’d go berserk if he knew I’d been peeping at him. One time he’d kicked his duvet right off and I saw him in his underpants!
    Loretta sometimes sleeps in her underwear too, but she’s got pretty slinky petticoats so she looks fine, though she’s always got black circles from her eye make-up which spoils the effect a bit. Britney sleeps in a cot at the end of her bed. She wears dear little yellow towelling suits with a yellow dummy to match. She makes little sucking sounds every now and then. She’s so sweet.
    I often tiptoe into the kitchen and make up her bottle for when she wakes, around six. Then I make a cup of tea and take it into Nan. She looks so lovely when she’s in bed. Her long blond hair spreads out all over the pillow and she wears fancy black lacy nighties so she looks just like a film star, even though her face has got a few wrinkles.
    â€˜My laughter lines,’ says Nan. It’s true, she’s always laughing. It makes you feel so good, so safe, so happy. When I wake her she never yells at me or pushes me away. She smiles like she’s really pleased to see me.
    â€˜Hello, my little Treasure,’ she says.
    She props herself up on her pink pillow to sip her tea. I slip in beside her and cuddle up close. I can’t understand my mum. Why did she ever want to leave home? Why did she go off with all the horrible boyfriends? She didn’t even know my dad properly, so I can’t get to know him myself. Not that I care. I haven’t liked any of my step-dads so I expect my real dad is just as bad. And Terry is the WORST ever.
    I
wish
I could stop dreaming that he’s coming to get me.

Six
    India
    DEAR KITTY
    I hate school. I hate all the teachers. I hate all the girls. I particularly hate Maria and Alice.
    They raise their eyebrows and then sputter with laughter whenever I go near them. The other girls have started doing it too. And everyone groans whenever I answer in class. I can’t
help
knowing lots. What’s so
bad
about being clever?
    I wish I didn’t have to go to school. Maybe I’ll bunk off and creep back home and hide in the attic all day like a real Anne Frank.
    I got into trouble because of my darling Anne today. I was so excited because we’re doing Diaries in English and Mrs Gibbs started talking about Anne Frank. She read out an excerpt from the diary. I felt my face flushing as if she were reading out
my
diary. I couldn’t stand it that some of the girls were just messing around and not paying attention when they were being introduced to the most important book of the twentieth century. It is so insulting to Anne. I couldn’t bear it.
    Mrs Gibbs read on, her voice solemn and portentous,
sooooo
wrong for lively, passionate Anne. Some of the girls started
giggling
while I fidgeted miserably to try to distract myself from the Gibbs rendition. I ended up slumped right down in my desk, my hands over my ears.
    â€˜India?’
    I jumped. I’d filtered out her voice a little too effectively.
    â€˜What’s the matter with you? Aren’t you even listening?’ Mrs Gibbs gave me a wounded look. ‘I would have thought you of all people would be interested in Anne Frank.’
    â€˜I
am
.’
    â€˜Then please sit up properly and concentrate.’
    Mrs Gibbs trudged on through Anne’s delicate prose, selecting the passage which means most to me, the one where Anne desperately longs for a real friend. I listened in agony. Alice whispered some crass remark and Maria spluttered infuriatingly.
    â€˜Really, girls!’ said Mrs Gibbs, closing Anne’s diary with a snap. ‘Can’t you be a little more mature? Maria, it’s not funny.’
    â€˜I’m sorry, Mrs Gibbs,’ said Maria, struggling. ‘So what happened to Anne