Read The Secrets Club Online

Authors: Chris Higgins

The Secrets Club (10 page)

Chapter 21

‘This is becoming a
habit!'

As Lissa hands me my bag on Monday
morning I can't help noticing how cross and disapproving she looks.

This isn't actually that unusual
for Lissa. But it is for Ali and Tash who are looking cross and disapproving
too.

‘What's wrong?'

‘Thought you were going to see
your grandmother on Saturday?' says Lissa.

‘I was.' Correction.
‘I did.'

It was true. I had seen Gran. Briefly.
For the first time ever since we'd been visiting her I'd gone straight
to the park when I got off the train and sent Jade along to Gran's on her own.
I'd had to. I had no choice;
the match was about to start.

Two hours later, when the match was
over, I'd arrived at Gran's house on cloud nine. But straight away I
knew something was wrong. She was on the doorstep waiting for me with her arms
folded and her first words brought me right back down to earth.

‘Where have you been all this
time?'

‘The park! I told Jade to tell you
where I was.'

‘What are you getting up to down
there for hours on end? You're not getting into bad company, are
you?'

‘No!' I darted a look at
Jade, wondering if she'd said something. It wasn't like Gran to play the
heavy guy.

But Gran must've seen the look
because immediately she said, ‘I'm responsible for you two when
you're here, you know. If you're up to no good, I'll have your
mother to answer to.'

I knew Mum coming up here last week was
a bad idea. Now Gran had realized she'd been allowing me a bit too much
freedom.

‘
I'm
not up to no
good!' Jade said indignantly. ‘I came straight here. It's not my
fault.'

‘Neither am I,' I retorted quickly.
‘I've just been hanging out with a few mates, that's all,
Gran.'

‘What do you mean by
“mates”? Girls?'

Jade snorted at that point and my cover
was blown. Though, to be fair, she did try to turn it (unsuccessfully) into a
cough.

‘Boys, actually,' I finally
admitted. There was no point in lying for the sake of it.

When I sat at the table for my lunch
Gran plonked a plate of fossilized cottage pie down in front of me.
‘Don't blame me if it's spoiled. It's been in the oven for
hours,' she snapped and sat down opposite me. Now I knew I was in for the
third degree.

‘Mmmm! Yummy!' I forked
dried-up minced beef and peas as hard as bullets into my mouth, trying to distract
her. ‘This is delicious, Gran!' There was no fooling her though.

‘You know, Dani, I think I'm
going to have a word with your mother. I'm not sure she, or your father for
that matter, would be happy to know that you're coming up to Blackett on the
pretext of seeing me in order to meet up with boys in the park.'

‘I'm not meeting up with
boys in the park!'
I said, my face
fiery red. ‘Not like that, anyway.' What does she think I'm
getting up to? That would be the Barbies' idea of heaven, not mine! ‘I
don't like boys, not the way you mean. I was just playing football with them,
that's all.'

‘Really?' She studied me
carefully. ‘So why all the secrecy?'

How do you tell your grandmother
you've been passing yourself off as a boy? ‘There is no secrecy!'
I lied wildly. ‘I just kick a ball around with them. We're
mates.'

She gave me a suspicious look.
‘That's all right then. Maybe we'll come along and watch you next
week, shall we, Jade?'

Jade looked nervously at me. She
didn't know what to say.

‘It's not a proper
match,' I protested. More lies. ‘It'll be really
boring.'

‘Let me be the judge of
that,' she said. ‘Now eat up your lunch.'

I tried but it was hard to force down.
Not because it was burned but because I could tell that she didn't believe a
word I was saying. And when she found out the truth I had no idea what would happen
next.

And now it's Monday morning and I've got three more
accusing faces glaring at me.

Lissa (pointedly): ‘Oh really? You
went to visit your gran? Play football, does she?'

Me (defensive): ‘Why d'you
say that?'

Ali: ‘Because inside your bag is a
pair of football boots.'

Me (weakly): ‘Is there?'

Tash: ‘You know there
is.'

Me (changing tack, sounding affronted):
‘You looked then?'

Lissa: ‘We were trying to do you a
favour, Dani. Return it to you.'

Ali: ‘In case you thought
you'd lost it.'

Tash: ‘We tried to phone you
–'

Lissa: ‘But you wouldn't
answer.'

Me (in excuse): ‘I was rushing to
catch the train –'

Ali: ‘So we looked in your bag to
see if your phone was in there –'

Tash: ‘And that's when we
saw the football boots.'

Lissa: ‘It was pretty obvious
you'd gone off to play football –'

Ali: ‘And you didn't want to
talk to us.'

Me (telling a lie): ‘It
wasn't like that!'

Tash (telling the truth): ‘Actually, we were a bit cross
about it –'

Ali (kindly): ‘But we knew
you'd need the boots anyway –'

Lissa: ‘And that's why we
chased after you to the station.'

Ali: ‘To give you your bag.
That's all.'

Tash: ‘Because we're still
the Gang of Four –'

Ali: ‘The No Secrets
Club.'

Lissa (reprovingly): ‘Even if you
have been lying to us.'

Me (mortified, taking the bag from
Lissa's out-stretched hand): ‘Thanks. I don't know what to say.
You are the best mates anyone could ever have. I really don't deserve
this …'

But the bell has gone and everyone is
flooding into school.

And nobody waits for
me.

Chapter 22

First lesson, double PE. Unusually for
her, Mrs Waters comes into the changing rooms in a tizz, clutching an open
folder.

‘Dani, I've just realized I
need to get you into the Junior Development squad by the end of the month so you
have a chance of making it to the Regional Performance Centre next year.'

At least, that's what I think she
says. It's difficult to tell because she's rifling through the folder
and muttering to herself behind clenched teeth. I catch some of what she's
saying.

‘How did I miss that? Need to keep
on top of things … Still, shouldn't be a
problem … She's ready … Should've realized the
date … This term's going so fast … Could wait till next
year … Be a shame though … Waste of talent …'

I wait patiently until finally she snaps the folder shut and
fixes me with her beady eye. ‘Right,' she says decisively, ‘we
need you up at the all-weather pitch at Crowley School on Saturday afternoon for a
trial.'

My heart sinks. ‘This Saturday,
Miss?'

‘Yes. Is that a
problem?'

I hesitate and my eyes shift away from
hers. Lissa is rolling hers at Tash and Ali. They know what's going through my
mind. Football.

They don't know how important it
is though. My second match for Blackett Juniors. I'm their chief striker. They
need me.

Mrs Waters is waiting for an answer but
I don't know what to say. Suddenly she explodes.

‘Danielle! Why do you even need to
think about this? I don't think you understand what an opportunity you could
be missing.'

‘I do, Miss!'

‘We've been training a long
time to get you ready for this trial.'

‘I know, Miss.'

‘Then, whatever you've got
on this weekend, cancel it!'

Silence. Mrs Waters glares at me.

‘Do you understand what an honour
this is?'

‘Yes, Miss.' I really do. I understand that if I get
into the Junior Development Centre I can progress to the Regional Performance Centre
and from there I might even go on to play hockey at national level one day.
It's an incredible opportunity, one that most girls would give anything
for.

Girls like Lissa and Tash, and poor old
Ali who hadn't even made it into the Year Seven school team, and all the rest
of them who'd turned out for weeks for me in the wind and rain to give me a
chance to get into this elite group.

I was the high-flyer at sport, Mrs
Waters' blue-eyed girl. The one who'd won the sports scholarship. I was
meant to represent Riverside Academy at hockey and netball and any other sport under
the sun. I would be letting down so many people if I didn't turn up for this
hockey trial on Saturday.

Everyone is silent and I can feel the
hostility radiating from my teacher and every other person in the room as they stand
there glaring at me. Including my best mates. The Barbies are loving it.

‘I really want to be in it, Mrs
Waters,' I say humbly and I mean it.

‘I should think so too!' she snaps. ‘Be at
Crowley School three o'clock sharp on Saturday. And don't be
late.' She turns to Lissa, Tash and Ali. ‘You lot, the rest of the Gang
of Four. You're responsible for making sure she's there,
right?'

‘Yes, Miss,' they
chorus.

‘Don't let me down!'
she barks. ‘You don't seem to realize, Dani, you could go all the way
with your talent. All you need is commitment.'

I gasp at the unfairness of it all. My
problem is I am already committed. But I can't tell her that. I can't
tell anyone. It's too late for that.

We go out on the field and she puts us
through our paces so fast people don't know what's hit them. Chantelle
says she thinks she's having a heart attack but Mrs Waters says a run round
the field is the best cure for cardiac arrest (which I don't think is strictly
true) and makes her do two laps. Then Zadie says she's pulled a muscle and she
makes her run a lap backwards to make it better, but from Zadie's face I
don't think it does. And she's really hard on everyone, especially
me.

When we get back into the changing rooms
everyone blames me for our hockey
lesson turning into some kind of boot camp.

‘It's not my fault Mrs
Waters was in a bad mood,' I protest as we get changed.

‘Yes it is!' says Lissa
grumpily. ‘And now we've missed break and I'm starving!'

Then in French she says she
doesn't feel well and so I suppose that's my fault too. Mrs Waters
would've told her to go for a run but Madame Dupré is kinder than that and
sends her to sick bay. We rush off to see her at lunchtime but to our surprise we
discover that she's already gone home.

‘Her mother came to collect
her,' explains the secretary in Reception.

‘Mrs Hamilton is such a
fusspot,' says Ali as we make our way outside to our favourite bench.

‘She couldn't have been that
bad,' I say, puzzled. ‘She said she was hungry. You don't feel
like eating if you're sick.'

‘She did look a bit pale and
clammy though,' says Tash.

We sit down and open our packed lunches.
It doesn't feel right, just three of us – it's not enough. The Barbies
are a threesome; we're the Gang of Four. Lissa should be here
investigating our lunchboxes, trying
to swap her healthy-eating options for our sweet treats. She gets on my nerves
sometimes but I wish she was here now to take my mind off things.

I don't know what to do about
Saturday. I take a bite of my ham sandwich and start to mull it over.

It's always been football for me –
my whole life, as long as I can remember. It should be straightforward. The fact
that I, Danielle Jarvis, was actually playing Junior League football in a
boys' team and making a success of it was my dream come true.

And I couldn't let them down.

But hockey was a good game too. The more
I played it, the more I grew to love it.

Mrs Waters had said I was talented, that
I could go all the way. She meant that I could represent not just my school, but my
county, and one day my country if I worked hard enough.

She'd also said I lacked
commitment. That hurt.

I couldn't let her and my friends
down either.

How could I possibly choose between
them?

A vision of World Cups and Olympic
stadiums
drifts before my eyes. Me, the
captain of the winning team, receiving the trophy, holding it up high to tumultuous
cheers from the crowd. Football team or hockey team? Difficult to tell.
There's a gold medal round my neck, the National Anthem is playing, Mum and
Dad are standing shoulder to shoulder, beaming with pride –

‘Dani!' A voice slices
through my dreams. ‘Hurry up and finish that sandwich. I want you out on the
field in ten seconds flat.'

‘Yes, Mrs Waters.' I take a
final bite and wash it down with a swig of water.

‘D'you want us too,
Miss?' asks Tash, getting to her feet.

‘No, I don't need you any
more,' says Mrs Waters. ‘Thanks for all your help but it's just
down to you now, Dani. We're going to practise those skills till they're
perfect.'

So that's what we do for the rest
of the week. I don't see Tash and Ali except in lessons. I don't see
Lissa at all because she's not well and stays at home for a few days. Every
spare minute, breaktime, lunchtime and after school, Mrs Waters and I practise
controlling the ball, passing, receiving, dribbling, turning, defending
and shooting in scores of different
drills repeated over and over again until I can do them in my sleep.

By Thursday night I'm as ready as
I'm ever going to be to try out for the Junior Development Centre.

The only problem is I still don't
know if I can get there.

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