Fourteen

India

I CAN’T BELIEVE that awful scary Terry could seem so heartbroken. He is brilliant at acting. It was so strange seeing Treasure’s family on television. They interviewed a senior police officer who said they were becoming increasingly concerned for Treasure’s safety. He urged the public to come forward if they had seen her. But no-one at all can see her – except me!

It’s so extraordinary. All the police are out searching for her when all the time Treasure’s safe and sound in my secret attic.

Well, she’s safe. I’m not sure about sound. She isn’t very well today. She’s worrying about her nan so she’s all tense and that makes her chest tight and she gets asthma. When it’s bad she wheezes in-between words as if she’s a little old lady. She needs her inhaler but she’s lost her bag. There’s a spare inhaler at her nan’s though.

‘Can’t you go and see her after school, India?’ Treasure begged. ‘You could get her on her own and whisper where I am. She won’t tell. You can trust my nan. And then she can slip you my spare inhaler.’

‘But what if Terry and your mum are still there? If they see me again they might start to get really suspicious. It’s too risky.’

Treasure sighed wheezily. She sat all hunched up, her fists clenched as she fought for breath.

‘Try to relax, Treasure. Straighten your shoulders and take deep breaths.’

‘I – can’t – breathe – you – nut,’ she gasped.

I massaged her shoulders and back, talking to her all the time, telling her to breathe in and out, in and out—

‘Shut – up – you – berk,’ said Treasure.

But it was helping! She was soon breathing almost normally.

‘How did you know what to do?’

‘I think maybe I saw some stuff on Casualty,’ I admitted.

‘Do you want to be a nurse then?’

‘Well, I want to be a writer, like Anne. But I wouldn’t mind being a doctor. No, a surgeon, I’d like that, cutting people open and doing complicated operations. I’m not a bit squeamish.’

‘Just as well when you have to empty my horrible bin,’ said Treasure, shuddering.

‘I don’t mind,’ I said.

Well, it is pretty revolting actually, but I can manage. Wanda saw me coming out of the bathroom carrying the emptied bin and stared in astonishment.

‘Why have you got the bin and a saucepan lid?’ she said.

‘It’s . . . personal,’ I said.

Wanda looked a little embarrassed.

‘Oh! I see,’ she said, and disappeared into the bathroom herself.

I heard her being sick. I hoped she hadn’t got some bug. I didn’t want Treasure to get it. I told her when I nipped up the attic steps. Treasure looked at me as if I was stupid.

‘She could have a tummy bug, or she could be going to have a baby,’ she said.

It was like an alarm bell going off inside my brain. I couldn’t bear it. Treasure thought I was shaking my head because I didn’t believe her.

‘I don’t know, of course. It’s just my mum threw up a lot when she was pregnant with Gary. India?’ Treasure knelt down beside me.

‘She’s been acting all worried for weeks. She hasn’t been eating properly either. I think she is pregnant.’

‘But why are you getting so het up about it?’

‘I think it’s my dad’s baby!’

Treasure blinked at me. ‘Oh! I see.’

‘It’s awful. He doesn’t even like her much. He wants to get rid of her. But maybe now she’s having his baby he’ll change his mind? Maybe he’ll go off with Wanda?’

‘I don’t think he’ll leave all this,’ said Treasure, looking around to indicate our house. ‘Not unless Wanda is really, really gorgeous.’

‘She isn’t,’ I said sadly. I thought about my dad, my mum, Treasure’s mum, Terry . . .

‘I hate grown ups,’ I said bitterly. ‘You can’t trust any of them.’

‘They’re not all like that,’ said Treasure. ‘You can trust my nan.’

She wheezed again.

‘Breathe, Treasure. Don’t tighten up,’ I said quickly. ‘Look, I’ll phone her. How about that?’

‘Can’t I phone her?’ Treasure said eagerly.

‘Well, I could try and sneak you Mum or Dad’s mobile. I’ll do my best when I get back from school, OK?’

‘Don’t go,’ Treasure said, gripping my arm. ‘Stay here with me, India, please.’

‘I’d give anything to stay, you know I would, but I can’t. Wanda drives me to school. I’ll have to whizz off in a minute. Well, kind of now.’ I tried very gently to unhook Treasure’s hands.

‘It’s so lonely up here,’ she said. ‘Can’t I come out during the day?’

‘It’s a bit risky, Treasure.’

‘But your mum and dad will be out at work.’

‘Wanda will be here though. She does go out sometimes, shopping, or to a yoga class, but you’ll never be able to guess when she’ll be back. No, stay up here. I wish I could. You’ve got all the books and my drawing stuff – and you’ve got your lunch all waiting.’

I’d tried really hard with Treasure’s lunch, making her cheese salad sandwiches and tuna and sweetcorn rolls with carrot sticks and tomatoes and a cherry yoghurt and a flapjack and an apple and a bottle of orange juice. I heard Mum’s high-heeled boots tapping down the stairs so I shoved the lot into my schoolbag in the nick of time. Mum looked at me suspiciously, asking why I’d gone pink. She tutted when she saw the bag of brown rolls was open.

‘Have you been at those baps, India? How many have you eaten? You know you’re only supposed to have muesli and fruit for breakfast. It’s for your own good.’ She went on at me, nag, nag, niggle, niggle, while she brewed her black coffee and nibbled a single slice of melon.

I was happy to let her think I was this great greedy pig but I wished Treasure might act a little pleased. She hadn’t eaten her breakfast either, not one bite, though I’d tried hard to vary it, toast and honey, melon cocktail, a banana and a carton of milk.

‘Eat your breakfast, Treasure,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to go now. I’ll try hard to see your nan after school, I promise, and I’ll come rushing back home as quick as quick after that. The day will just flash by, you’ll see.’

Treasure nodded, but she was nibbling her lip anxiously. I gave her a quick hug. I didn’t like leaving her, but what else could I do?

It was so strange to run downstairs and start off for school as if nothing had happened. I felt awkward with Wanda. I kept giving her tummy little glances as she drove me to school, imagining a tiny tadpole baby swimming about inside her. I wanted to know if it was really true but I went hot at the thought of asking her.

‘You’re very quiet,’ said Wanda, as she drew up outside school.

‘Yes, well, I’ve got things on my mind,’ I said.

‘Me too,’ said Wanda significantly. ‘Anyway, I’ll pick you up usual time this afternoon. Don’t worry, I won’t be late.’

‘No! We’ve got our arrangement, don’t you remember? I’m coming home by myself.’

‘I’ve changed my mind, India. It’s not safe. That kid’s still missing from the Latimer Estate. They think some man’s abducted her.’

‘That’s rubbish,’ I said. ‘I bet she’s just run away.’

‘Whatever,’ said Wanda. ‘I’m still coming to pick you up.’

‘No, you’re not,’ I said. ‘I’m going to my friend Tiffany’s house. And then her mum will drive me home. It’s all arranged.’

‘Does your mother know?’

‘No. I don’t want to tell her. You know what she’s like.’

‘Yes,’ said Wanda. ‘But I still think—’

‘Wanda, I’ve got to go, I’m late.’

I was out of the car and running into school before she could continue.

It was a trying day at school. Maria and Alice had some new joke together, nudging each other and giggling whenever they looked in my direction. I kept dropping the wretched ball in PE. The whole class groaned and went, ‘Surprise, surprise’ when I came top in the Maths test. It was pizza for lunch but my slice was very small and burnt underneath.

I didn’t really care about any of this. School suddenly seemed such a stupid trivial place. I hurtled across the playground the second the bell went for home-time just in case Wanda was thinking of collecting me after all. I was way down the road while the others had scarcely started straggling across the playground.

I ran nearly the whole way to the Latimer Estate, rehearsing what I was going to say to Treasure’s nan. But I didn’t get the chance.

There were two big television vans parked in the courtyard of Elm block and over by the dustbin shelter there was a crowd clustered in front of the television camera. Kids were running towards it, desperate to be on television too. I grabbed one little boy by his bony elbow.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Leave off! It’s the telly, innit. They’ve got the bloke.’

‘Which bloke?’

‘The one that murdered the girl, Treasure.’

‘She’s not murdered!’

‘Well, they haven’t found her body yet, but my mum says it’s only a matter of time. She says they should torture him until he says what he’s done with her.’

‘Who?’

‘That nutter Michael Watkins. He’s the one that did it.’

‘Michael Watkins?’

‘You are thick. He lives next door to Treasure and her gran, Rita, and all that crowd.’

Mumbly Michael!

‘He hasn’t done anything to Treasure!’

‘Yes, he has. The coppers came and arrested him. They did a search of his mum’s flat and all. There’s no trace of Treasure – yet. My mum reckons they should search the dustbins. She’ll be found soon, you wait.’

He jerked his elbow free and ran towards the television crew. I ran after him, though my legs were so wobbly I nearly fell down.

They couldn’t have arrested poor Mumbly Michael.

They could.

A journalist was talking solemnly straight to camera.

‘We understand that the police are still questioning this man, who is believed to be the next-door neighbour of Treasure Mitchell’s grandmother. There’s still no sign of the little girl herself but her family haven’t given up hope.’

I wondered if this family were still staying with Nan in her flat. I skirted the crowd and dodged up the stairs, but when I got to the right landing I saw there were two police officers outside Nan’s flat, and two more outside Mumbly Michael’s.

I felt so frightened I just bobbed back down the stairs, rushing too quickly in the dark. I missed my footing and went hurtling down four or five steps at once, landing with a terrible thump on my hands and knees, my schoolbag giving me another bash in the back for good measure. I knelt there, whispering all the swear words I know to try to stop myself crying. Then I picked myself up and limped down the rest of the stairs.

The television crew was still filming, the camera panning the crowd. I kept my head well down and backed away. I ran until I was out of the Latimer Estate altogether, and then I hobbled along to the parade of shops. I went to the chemist’s. I had ten pounds in my school purse. I hoped it would be enough. I smiled at the lady behind the counter.

‘Can I have one of those asthma inhaler things, please?’

‘Have you got your prescription, dear?’

Oh-oh.

‘No, I’ve been very stupid. I’ve lost it. Couldn’t you just give me the inhaler? I can pay, I’ve got my money.’

‘No dear, you have to have the prescription. You’ll have to go back to your doctor.’

‘I can’t. I haven’t got an appointment. I need the inhaler now. I’m going off to stay at a friend’s, you see, and I’m starting to go all wheezy.’

I started to imitate Treasure having an attack. It was quite easy because I was still out of breath from all the running.

‘I’m sorry, we’re not allowed to sell any asthma products over the counter without a prescription,’ she said.

‘Look, can’t you give the inhaler to me now, and I’ll use it and calm down and go and see the doctor and get another prescription and bring it straight back to you, I promise.’

‘No, I’m afraid that’s just not possible.’ She was staring at me, starting to get suspicious. ‘Are you on your own? Is your mother outside in the car?’

‘Oh, never mind,’ I said, giving up and running out of the shop. I hoped the television and newspapers hadn’t said anything about Treasure being asthmatic. I decided to trail all the way into town to see if I could buy anything for asthma at the big Boots in the shopping centre. I thought I’d seem much less conspicuous in a crowded shop. I just hoped they had a different policy.

They didn’t. They wouldn’t sell me an inhaler. They went through the whole we-need-a-prescription rigmarole. So I gave up and spent the ten pounds on treats for Treasure instead: blue sparkly nail varnish and cherry-flavoured lip gloss and butterfly slides and some chocolate – and I bought room freshener too and more tissues.

It was getting horribly late now. I knew Treasure would be wondering where on earth I’d got to. I ran some of the way home but I was tired out and my knees were hurting badly so I wasn’t very fast.

I wanted to rush straight up to Treasure but Wanda was waiting in the hall.

‘This isn’t good enough, India! Why didn’t you ring me from Tiffany’s house? I’ve been so worried.’

‘There’s no need to worry, Wanda.’

Wanda was still looking at me strangely. ‘There’s something going on, India. You’re acting very oddly all of a sudden.’ She paused. ‘You didn’t slip back here at lunchtime, did you?’

I felt my heart thump. I tried not to look anxious. ‘No. Why?’

‘Mrs Winslow seemed sure someone had been in the kitchen.’

‘Oh?’ I said, as if I wasn’t that interested. ‘Anyway, Wanda, I’d better go and get started on my homework, I’ve got heaps.’

I raced upstairs and made a great show of slamming my bedroom door – and then I opened it again very cautiously, scooted along the landing, and up the stairs.

I poked my head up into the attic. It was pitch black!

‘Treasure? What is it? What’s happened?’

I felt for the light switch. I found it but the light didn’t come on.

‘Treasure?’

Why wasn’t she answering me?

I pulled myself up and felt my way in the darkness.

‘Treasure, please! It’s me, India. Where are you?’

I found the armchair but it was empty. Then I nudged into something on the floor. I bent and felt clothes, a limp body, arms, legs. I shook her gently – and to my horror her arm came right off, dangling there in my hands!