Squishy Taylor and the Bonus Sisters (2 page)

After dinner, I grab the iPad before Jessie can. She scowls but says nothing. The only time I don’t have to fight for the iPad is when it’s time to skype Mum. I lie on my tummy on the floor and push my curls out of my face.

‘Hi,
Squishy-sweet
,’ Mum says.

‘Hi, Mum.’

‘Let me just finish this sentence.’ She starts typing. Mum’s at work because it’s daytime in Geneva. She finishes with a flamboyant full stop, then looks at me again. ‘What’d you do today?’ she asks.

‘Um …’ The first thing I think of is the boy downstairs, but if I told her about him she’d probably tell Dad.

‘Um … I poured orange juice and flour in Vee’s schoolbag this morning,’ I say.

She groans. ‘Oh great. Poor Alice.’ But she has her sideways smile on. Mum was a rebel too, so she kind of likes that I am.

‘You should have seen the
goop
it made,’ I add, thinking gleefully of the dough all over her pencil case. ‘It was all …
squishy!
’

She laughs. ‘Probably not the best way to make friends with your stepsisters, hey?’

‘I don’t want to be
friends
! I’ve got friends at school. Did you know, Jessie spent an hour yesterday telling me how to do my homework –’

Just then, Jessie comes in. ‘Hi, Devika,’ she says to Mum, looking over my shoulder.

‘Hi, Jessie,’ Mum says.

‘How’s the UN?’ Jessie asks, as if she’s
100 years older
than me, rather than five and a half months.

‘Oh,’ Mum sighs. ‘Bureaucratic. Huge. I don’t know.’

Jessie waves at Mum and heads over to her telescope by the window.

‘Well, how
are
your school friends?’ Mum asks me. ‘Bet they’re all wishing you’d get on a plane to Geneva.’

I grin. My school friends are one of the main reasons I stayed. ‘Nah. They’re good.’ But I don’t really want to talk to her in front of Jessie. ‘Love you,’ I say.

‘Love you too, Squish,’ she says, and her picture slides away.

‘Bedtime in seven and a half minutes!’ Alice yells.

Vee does a
Kicking-Two-Jump-Scramble
up to the top bunk. She’s such a show-off. Vee always invents new ways of getting up to the top bunk and then performs them like we should clap. When I try them, she does
bigger-kid-snob face
at me and pretends she’s better. Which makes it way less fun.

Jessie takes the iPad off me without asking. She checks her telescope and makes notes in her astronomy app. Then she folds her clothes into a neat square and slips into the bottom bunk.

‘Goodnight, Vee,’ Jessie says.

‘Goodnight, Jessie,’ Vee says.

They don’t say anything to me. Which is kind of fair enough, since I made that
brilliant mess
in Vee’s bag this morning. But that was fair enough, because Vee drew a moustache on my face with permanent marker while I was asleep last night. I got it off before school – but I had a red moustache until recess from the scrubbing.

Anyway. Whatever. I climb into the middle bunk between the twin-generated-silence and lie there. In the stupid
triple-bunk-bed
Alice built before I moved in.

I’m staying awake, thinking about my secret.

After ages, the line of light under our door goes out. I hear Dad and Alice’s bedroom door close. Jessie and Vee are both doing sleep-breathing.

I slowly peel back the covers and tiptoe into the kitchen. It looks as though Dad or Alice discovered the
secret stash
of garlic bread and meatballs I hid under the table, but it’s fine, they’re just sitting in the top part of the bin. I grab an old take-away container and pile them in. Then I lift the key off the hook and ease open the front door.

When I get out into the corridor, I realise I don’t just have to hide from Dad and Alice. I have to hide from every single adult in the building. Grown-ups take the responsibility of being grownups very seriously. Especially if they see kids in pyjamas out in the middle of the night.

Luckily, no-one spots me and I make it to the car park just fine. I tap gently on the boy’s door. ‘
Room service
,’ I say.

As he opens up, I hear the garage roller-door begin to beep and rise. Headlights shine down into the car park. He stumbles backwards and I follow him in, closing the door behind us.

‘Thanks,’ he says as I hand him the food. ‘Hope they didn’t notice the light.’ He shoves a meatball into his mouth and we listen to the car pull up. We sit on his sleeping-bag with our backs to the wall.

‘What’s your name?’ I ask.

‘John,’ he says, with his mouth full. ‘John Smith.’

‘Why are you here?’ I ask.

‘I’m hiding,’ he says, taking a bite of garlic bread.

‘No way!’ I say sarcastically.

‘From the police.’

I stop being sarcastic and do a
question-face
instead.

‘I stole a tram,’ he says. ‘When the tram driver got out, I jumped in and drove it all the way to St Kilda. Now they want to put me in prison.’

‘They don’t put kids in prison,’ I say.

I wish I’d stolen a tram.

I think for a little bit.

‘Next time I’ll do a secret knock, OK?’ I say. ‘Don’t open to anyone except me.’

‘OK,’ he says. ‘What will it sound like?’

I make up a really complicated knock that nobody else would
ever
do.

He shakes his head. ‘I didn’t get that. Do it again?’ he asks.

But I can’t remember it. I make up another one, but then I can’t remember that either. It makes us both laugh. Finally we agree on a pretty quick and simple
tappety-tap-tap-tap
.

I stand up.

‘Don’t tell anyone I’m here,’ he says.

‘Course.’

‘Will you bring food tomorrow night?’ he asks. He suddenly sounds lonely.

‘I’m going to bring you
so much food
,’ I grin.

But when I open the door to leave, Vee is standing on the other side.

‘What are you
doing
?’ Vee hisses.

John Smith is hiding behind me but he’s pretty obvious. There’s no point pretending.

‘John Smith, this is my stepsister, Vee. Vee, this is John. He stole a tram and now he’s on the run from the police.’

‘You did not steal a tram,’ Vee says, but she sounds admiring. I can tell she wishes she stole a tram too.

John nods.

‘I’ve been looking after him,’ I declare, ‘and I’ve promised to protect him with my life.’

I know that’s not exactly what I promised, but John doesn’t seem to mind and Vee looks a tiny bit impressed.

‘I’ll protect him too,’ she says.

I want to say no and keep John Smith all to myself. I start to shake my head.

‘
With my life
,’ Vee adds, with her chin out.

I figure if she’s not with me, she’s against me. ‘You can protect him,’ I say slowly. ‘But you’re not allowed to tell Jessie. She’ll tell the police for sure.’

John looks worried. ‘Please don’t tell,’ he says.

Vee looks unsure, but I make her put one hand on her heart and the other hand on John’s shoulder and look deep into his eyes and promise to protect him. I realise he really should have made me do this, so I do it too.

There’s something very serious about it and I suddenly care even more that John doesn’t get discovered.

Then we tell John we’ll see him tomorrow and start for the lift.

‘On
Pocket-Money Day
, let’s buy him jelly snakes,’ Vee says, as the lift starts climbing. Her voice sounds conspiring, like we’re a team. It’s kind of surprising and nice.

‘Do you think we can sneak in before school?’ I ask. ‘The car park will be pretty busy.’

‘One of us can be the decoy, while the other sneaks into his storeroom,’ Vee says. ‘What kind of decoy trick could we do?’

‘Maybe we can set off the fire alarm,’ I suggest.

Vee laughs. ‘Maybe you can pretend to go crazy and sing opera and make everyone look at you.’

We make up lots of other stupid decoy tricks. Vee has never been this fun,
ever
. We are giggling so hard when we get to our floor that we totally forget to be quiet.

We would have remembered by the time we got to our door. But we have to go past Mr Hinkenbushel’s first.

His door opens with a bang against the wall. ‘What are you kids doing up at this time of night?’ He’s wearing old pyjamas and his face is red. ‘You’re keeping the whole building awake. What are your parents
thinking
?’

When he says ‘parents’, a bit of spit comes out of his mouth and flies across the hallway. I dodge it like a
ninja
, but that just makes him angrier.

‘Where’s your respect?’ he shouts.

‘Sorry, Mr Hinkenbushel, sorry,’ Vee says and we duck away towards our place. He glares at us as I turn the key and then we’re in. We close the door and lean against it,
whisper-giggling
. Vee’s shoulder is warm, shaking against mine.

‘How did you find me?’ I ask.

‘Not a problem,’ Vee says. ‘I was behind you from when you took the key.’

‘You are so creepy!’ I say and we burst into more
giggles
.

A door creaks open and Dad’s sleepy voice bumbles in on our laughter. ‘What
are
you doing?’

While we make breakfast, Vee and I bump each other’s shoulders and giggle. We’re both trying to sneak food for John Smith, but there are too many people watching. Jessie is suspicious. She starts glancing sideways at me as she eats her cereal.

Alice is in the shower getting ready for work and Dad’s trying to
bounce
Baby on his hip and make lunches at the same time. Baby is crying, squirming backwards and baffing Dad in the face with his fat little arm.

‘Hey, Tom, how about I do that?’ Vee says helpfully, taking the knife off Dad to spread mayo on the sandwiches.

Jessie stares at her like she’s suddenly turned into a fake plastic fern. We never make our own lunches.

‘Don’t think you can wriggle out of your punishment for last night’s
shenanigans
,’ Dad says, but he sounds relieved and bounces Baby over to the other side of the room.

‘Oh no, that’s fine!’ Vee says and I see she’s
sneakily
making a fourth sandwich.