The Secrets Club Page 2

  I can even sound like a boy if I try.

  A woman comes in, looks at me startled, and scuttles into a cubicle. She must wonder what on earth this crazy guy is doing in the Ladies, talking to himself. I grin wryly at myself and then glance at my watch.

  Time to go.

  Chapter 4

  ‘Where did you get that bruise from?’ squeals Georgia. My heart sinks.

  ‘OMG!’ Zadie’s and Chantelle’s mouths drop open simultaneously and immediately a crowd gathers round me in the changing room to gawp at my multi-coloured shin.

  I have to admit it is pretty impressive, though no one had noticed until now because it was hidden beneath my trousers. But now I’ve taken them off for PE it’s on display for everyone to see. I should have remembered that for drama queens like the Barbies a simple zit is a cause for hysteria, let alone a massive bruise like this.

  ‘What did you do?’ asks Lissa.

  ‘Fell over.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Saturday.’ Immediately I wish I could take back that one little word and change it to Sunday as I watch her face cloud over.

  ‘At your gran’s?’ she says suspiciously.

  ‘Yep, at my gran’s,’ I say with a sigh.

  ‘How come?’

  ‘She lives on a hill. I took a tumble.’

  ‘Like Jack and Jill!’ giggles Georgia and her clones join in. I silence them with a look. I knew this would happen. A mass inquisition. I should’ve been better prepared.

  ‘Have you broken it?’ asks Tash.

  ‘No, of course I haven’t broken it,’ I say scathingly, though I must admit exactly that thought had crossed my mind when Marvyn’s boot had come into collision with my shin. The pain had taken my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. I’d dashed them away quickly before he could see them. They’re such a girly thing, tears.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ asks Ali, stretching out her hand to touch it, and automatically I jerk it away. Ouch!

  ‘Not if you leave it alone!’ I say between gritted teeth.

  ‘What’s going on?’ comes a voice and Mrs Waters, our PE teacher, makes an entrance.

  ‘Look at Dani’s leg, Miss!’ shrieks Zadie. Oh no!

  ‘It’s nothing!’ I say, but the teacher’s eyes widen and she kneels down to examine it.

  ‘That’s quite an injury. Have you had this seen to?’

  ‘Yes, Miss,’ I say. ‘My mum’s a nurse.’

  It’s only half a lie. Mum is a nurse. But she hasn’t seen it. I don’t want her to. Too many questions. I pull my sock up over my shin and busy myself lacing up my hockey boots.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘She fell over,’ says Zadie importantly, loving the drama.

  ‘Really?’ Mrs Waters raises her eyebrows. ‘It looks more like a contact injury to me. Does your mum say you’re OK to play hockey on it, Dani?’

  ‘Yes, Miss.’

  ‘Good. Because you could earn a place at the Junior Development Centre if you continue to play as well as you have been. I’m considering putting you forward for it.’

  Everyone cheers and I can feel myself beaming. I’m not quite sure how it works but I know that basically it means you get extra training so you can play at county level. Sounds good to me.

  ‘Are you considering putting anyone else forward, Miss?’ asks Lissa hopefully.

  ‘Not yet, Lissa,’ says Mrs Waters. ‘It’s most unusual for a Year Seven student to get into the centre. I don’t know if it’s happened before. But Dani’s exceptional.’ Lissa’s face falls. ‘That doesn’t mean you stop trying,’ adds Mrs Waters kindly. ‘You could be next. Now, come on, you lot, hurry up outside. We’ve got a lesson to get on with.’

  The field is muddy and it’s not easy practising our skills. My leg hurts. I’ll be glad when the new all-weather pitch is in place that we raised money for before half term. We put on an eco fashion show, not my sort of thing at all, but it turned out to be an awesome evening. Ali masterminded it all with Lissa and Austen’s help but she kept the finale a secret till the very last minute. She’s a real dark horse that one, not even Lissa guessed what she was up to and it’s hard to pull the wool over her eyes, I can tell you.

  We move from skills to a game, then finally we troop off the field, covered in mud. Or in my case, hobble off. My leg has held up but it’s really throbbing now.

  Nothing wrong with my ears though. Mum always says I’m like a cat, my hearing is so good. Behind me Ali is brimming with sympathy. ‘Poor old Dani, she looks like she’s in agony.’

  I’m about to turn round and say I’m all right when I hear someone mutter, ‘She never got that bruise falling down.’ It’s Lissa. I ignore her and carry on walking, trying my best not to limp.

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Tash’s voice chips in.

  ‘You heard Mrs Waters,’ Lissa says in a low voice. ‘She said it looked like a contact injury, and she should know.’

  ‘So?’ Tash’s voice is challenging. She knows Lissa’s up to something but she doesn’t know what.

  I do. Lissa’s no fool. Her next words confirm she’s on to me.

  ‘Dani said she couldn’t meet up with us on Saturday cos she had to go to her gran’s.’

  ‘And your point is …?’ says Tash, sounding bored.

  ‘Duh! My point is she never went to her gran’s at all. She went and played football with her mates instead of coming out with us.’

  Like I said. You can’t pull the wool over Lissa’s eyes.

  Chapter 5

  I hate people talking about me behind my back. I turn round and stare Lissa straight in the eye. ‘You got something to say to me, say it to my face.’

  The three of them stop short, shocked. It doesn’t sound like me, happy-go-lucky Dani – normally so laidback I’m practically horizontal.

  To Lissa’s credit, even though her face is scarlet, she sticks to her guns.

  ‘I’m not having a go at you, Dani, but it’s pretty obvious you got that bruise playing football.’

  ‘What if I did?’

  ‘You said you’d come out with us on Saturday.’

  ‘I know. I was going to. But I told you, I had to see my gran instead.’

  ‘Yeah, right. So how come you got that great big bruise then? Kick you in the shins, did she?’ She laughs like it’s a joke but I know it’s not.

  They’re all staring at me, waiting.

  ‘Get a move on, you lot!’ shouts Mrs Waters from the changing rooms. ‘The bell’s about to go!’

  ‘Come on,’ says Ali, her face troubled, and she breaks into a run. Lissa and Tash follow her, leaving me to bring up the rear. No one says anything while we’re getting dressed. I deliberately take my time, seething with rage because I feel that Lissa has backed me into a corner. The others leave before me. When I finally emerge from the changing rooms break is over and it’s time for the next lesson.

  The house is quiet when I get home from school that day. My mum’s a nurse practitioner at a GP surgery in town and on the days that she works late Jade goes to after-school clubs till Mum’s ready to collect her. Since I started at Riverside I’m allowed to come straight home. I’m not on my own for long and I quite like it. I usually change out of my uniform and get my homework done and out of the way. Or sometimes I go and kick a ball around with the lads in the street till the others come home and tea’s ready.

  Today I don’t know what I want to do. I’m feeling all churned-up inside.

  Nobody had sai
d any more to me about playing football, not even Lissa. If they had, maybe I would’ve told them the truth. Nobody had another go at me, but all day it was awkward. After French it was lunchtime and we went and sat at our usual picnic bench. The atmosphere was strained and for the first time since we’d got to know each other it was like nobody could think of anything to say.

  But then Lissa, who loves her food, started talking about the panini she’d had on Saturday and then Tash went into raptures about what she’d had to eat. It turned out they’d sat chatting in the cafe for so long they’d ended up having lunch there as well. Then they started telling me about how the Barbies had seen them and they’d come into the cafe and ordered something to eat too, making out this was what they did all the time, but Chantelle couldn’t even pronounce what she was asking for. And they all seemed to think this was hilarious but it didn’t seem that funny to me. It just seemed artificial, like everyone was pretending everything was normal when it wasn’t.

  Afterwards they’d gone round the shops and tried stuff on. I’m really not interested in clothes shopping and I thought Ali wasn’t either, but today she was as bad as the other two. I made an effort to join in the conversation but it’s hard if you weren’t there and, anyway, it was really boring. In the end I just sat there grinning and nodding and let them rabbit on. And on. And on.

  I found out something weird today.

  You can be on your own and not feel lonely at all. But you can be in the middle of your best mates, looking like you’re having the time of your life, and inside you feel completely isolated.

  I take out my history work and start writing up notes I’d made in the lesson. After that I try to learn some French vocab but it’s no good, my heart’s not in it. I pick up my phone and find myself pressing Lissa’s number. I need to apologize to her for snapping her head off, for my sake as much as hers. I hate atmospheres, they freak me out. It reminds me what it was like when Mum and Dad were breaking up.

  But Lissa’s number is busy. She’s on the phone to someone. Tash or Ali, no doubt. I bet they’re talking about me.

  There’s a knock on the door. A kid from down the street is standing there with a football under his arm.

  ‘Wanna game?’ he asks hopefully.

  I hesitate. I really want to but my leg is sore and I’ve played a full game of hockey on it already today. It’s important that it’s completely healed by Saturday. I put my phone back to my ear. It’s still engaged.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say, hanging up. ‘Why not?’

  Chapter 6

  By the time Mum and Jade walk down the street quite a few of us are out there having a kick-around, all of them lads except me, but I’m used to that. ‘Tea in half an hour,’ Mum calls as she puts her key in the lock.

  It’s starting to get dark when I go in and the light is on in the kitchen. My sister’s already sitting at the table, chatting away to Mum who is serving up plates of pasta with Bolognese sauce. I slip into my place feeling loads better. It must be those endorphins Mrs Waters is always banging on about which flood your body after you’ve done some strenuous exercise. Happy hormones, she calls them, which Tash thinks is hilarious. Or maybe it’s simply the sight and smell of food.

  Mum places a hot, steaming plate of pasta in front of Jade and me then sits down with hers beside us. Across from her, Dad’s chair sits empty, a constant reminder of his absence from our family, like a gap where a painful tooth has been extracted.

  They’re all around the house these gaps: a bare display cabinet where his football trophies used to stand; a drying rack full of dainty underwear, but devoid of boxer shorts or novelty socks; no shaving foam or razor or unused bottle of Christmas aftershave on the bathroom shelf; three toothbrushes in the cup, not four.

  I start to feel miserable again.

  Mum sighs as if she’s reading my mind, or perhaps she’s just tired from being at work all day. ‘What’s all this about you hurting your leg?’ she asks and forks food into her mouth.

  News travels fast when you’ve got a mum like mine. The bush telegraph, the jungle drums, Twitter, none of them can compete with her. Information runs through her faster than the speed of light – she doesn’t just follow me, she knows what’s happening in my life before I do.

  At least, she thinks she does.

  ‘Knocked it playing football.’ I’m aware of it aching now I’ve been running about on it again, but I add quickly, ‘It’s no big deal. How did you find out?’

  ‘Tash was at the surgery with her mum and the boys. When did you do it?’ She sounds only mildly interested. The advantage of having a mum who’s a nurse is that she’s seen every injury and disease under the sun and you have to be on your deathbed before she’s the least bit impressed.

  ‘Saturday.’

  She frowns at me, puzzled, and I explain. ‘I had a knock-about with some kids in the park by Gran’s house. Got a bit of a bump, that’s all.’

  She shakes her head. ‘What are you like? I thought Riverside Academy might have made a lady of you at last. Especially when you did that fashion show. But here you are, still chasing a football around.’

  ‘A lady?’ I snort derisively. ‘It was ace. I really enjoyed it. I’m going to play with them again this Saturday.’

  Jade rolls her eyes and Mum laughs. ‘Football mad she is, just like her dad,’ she says, but her voice sounds a bit wistful. I hesitate, wondering how much to tell her, but then she turns to Jade and asks her about school and the moment passes.

  It all began last half term, way before the fashion show, when Jade and I went over to Gran’s on our own for the first time. Since I started at Riverside Mum’s been giving me more rein, letting me go places under my own steam, encouraging me to meet up with my new friends. The only proviso is if she’s working on Saturdays I have to have Jade with me. I’m not stupid, she’s using me as an unpaid babysitter!

  I don’t mind; Jade’s no trouble. The first thing we did was go over to see Gran on the train on our own and that set the pattern for Saturdays ever since, whether Mum’s working or not.

  It’s not just that I like Gran’s company, which I do. Not as much as Jade does though. Those two are like a pair of kids when they get together. They love going round charity shops, poking through piles of unwanted items to find steals in vintage clothing, bric-a-brac, books … Of course books.

  I got bored rigid that first Saturday and after a while wandered off down the park and let them get on with it. Some boys were having a knock-around on the football pitch so I stopped to watch them. One of them hit the ball into the bushes next to me so I retrieved it and lobbed it back to him.

  ‘Thanks!’ he called. He had bright ginger hair and looked nice. A bit later the ball came my way again and I did a big drop kick back to him. He picked it up and this time he said, ‘Wanna game? We’re one short.’

  I was really surprised to be asked. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll play football every chance I get but since I left primary school I’ve only played in the street with the kids I grew up with. Like, most boys don’t want a girl in their team, plus these guys were pretty good. But I didn’t need to be asked twice.

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Five-a-side. You’re on my team. You, me, Vikram, Lofty and Marvyn. Against the others.’

  I ran over to them and he passed the ball to me. I trapped it and flicked it from my toe to my knee and back for a few seconds while I worked out who was who. A boy tried to tackle me so I turned away and deflected it to a long gangly guy who I was pretty sure must be Lofty.
He sent it straight back to me so I must’ve been right. I passed it on to the ginger kid who sliced it high and wide, but I raced down the pitch overtaking the rest of them and picked up the ball and lobbed it into the net.

  ‘Yay!’ said the boy, high-fiving me. ‘Nice work! My name’s Ryan. What’s yours?’

  ‘Dani.’

  ‘Welcome to the team, Danny,’ he said and turned to the others. ‘I think we’ve found our new man.’

  Chapter 7

  I never meant to mislead them. I never set out to pretend I was a boy.

  I didn’t even realize at that point that they actually didn’t know I was a girl. When Ryan said, ‘We’ve found our new man,’ I thought he was being funny and I laughed, pleased they’d accepted me, and then we carried on playing. I played well, I know I did, my confidence boosted by the goodwill I could feel flooding towards me. It fired me up and made me rise to the occasion. I’d missed this standard of play. I was in my element.

  Afterwards they crowded round me, wanting to know who I played for.

  ‘Well, I was playing for Pengrowse but I’ve left now,’ I explained, Pengrowse being my primary school.

  ‘Come and play for us then!’ said Ryan. ‘We’re getting a junior team together. My Uncle Terry says he’ll train us up and he used to play for the Wanderers. How old are you?

  ‘Eleven.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  I couldn’t believe my ears.

  ‘Are you serious?’ I knew that technically girls were allowed to play in boys’ teams nowadays, but I didn’t know a single girl who’d ever been asked to play in one. Not at this level anyway.

  They all started nodding their heads and saying, ‘Yeah, yeah!’ and ‘You bet!’ and stuff like that, and I found myself grinning with delight. But then Lofty said, ‘We need lads like you.’