Lydia saw Anne say something to Frankie which was lost under the chants of the rest of the crowd. Then Anne and Frankie turned and walked away to another part of the playground.
‘THIEF! THIEF!’
The buzzer sounded twice for the second lunch session. The chanting of the mob trailed away to nothing. Some were already turning away and heading for the canteen. After all, today was fish and chips day! Some of the others looked uncertain, as if they wanted to stay but not by themselves. Laughing and chatting, the rest of the crowd finally turned and ambled off. Lydia watched them walk away from her as if nothing had happened, as if she didn’t even exist. The bones in her legs turned to jelly. She slid down the wall and hugged her legs to her, resting her head on her knees. Her whole body was hurting. Each time ‘THIEF!’ was yelled at her, it hurt worse than a punch in her stomach. And over the last week she’d had to take so many punches.
‘I’m not going to cry. I won’t let any of you make me cry.’ Lydia whispered the words over and over.
It seemed to be working. For once the tears that always seemed to be stinging her eyes these days didn’t run down onto her cheeks.
‘I’m not going to cry,’ Lydia said again.
She forced herself to stand up. It was time for her to go into lunch as well. Lunch was such an ordeal that she’d skipped it for the last couple of days. But not any more.
‘I won’t give any of you the satisfaction,’ she said, trying to convince herself. She took a deep breath and headed for the canteen.
Lydia grimaced as soggy, greasy chips were slapped onto her plate. Everyone looked forward to Friday’s lunch, but the fish looked as if it had died of old age and the chips were doing the backstroke in a puddle of oil.
‘Anything else, pet?’ asked the dinner-lady.
Lydia shook her head. She turned, swallowing hard. Now for the hard part. She had to somehow get across the lunch hall without catching anyone’s eye. Lydia started forward, her head high, her gaze concentrating on the far wall. But that wasn’t the worst part. Not by any means. It was listening to the silence spreading before her as she approached each table. Then as she passed, the whispers and the laughter started, growing louder and louder as she got further away.
That was the worst part.
Lydia sat down at a table by herself. She pronged a chip with her fork and began to chew. It was like eating with a really bad head cold. The chips grated down the back of her throat as she swallowed and Lydia couldn’t taste a thing.
‘Bharti, sit down and be quiet.’
At the sound of Mrs Binchy’s angry voice, Lydia looked up. The teacher stood glaring at Bharti, who held her lunch plate in her hand. From the pinched look on Mrs Binchy’s face, she was obviously at the end of her tether. Lydia recognized Bharti, who was in the same year as her but not in the same class. Bharti had also been at one of the Cosmic meetings Lydia had attended but they hadn’t said that much to each other. Mind you, that was before Anne had decided that Bharti didn’t belong and had thrown her out of the group.
‘I can’t sit with her.’ Bharti pointed to Lydia. ‘My mum said I mustn’t talk to her ’cause she steals things.’
‘SIT DOWN!’ Mrs Binchy roared.
Bharti sat down quickly.
‘Bharti, you will sit there and eat your lunch without another word. I’ve had just about enough of you for one day.’ And with that Mrs Binchy strode off.
Lydia returned her attention to her plate, viciously pronging another chip. Head bent, she swallowed hard over and over again, waiting for the lump in her throat to deflate. At the moment it was the size of Jupiter. A burning sensation on the top of her head told Lydia that Bharti was watching her. Gritting her teeth, Lydia looked up suddenly.
‘What’re you looking at?’ she snapped.
‘My mum said I wasn’t to talk to you, but I never take any notice of what my mum says,’ said Bharti. A moment’s silence followed. ‘Did you steal the sports cup?’
Lydia shook her head.
‘I didn’t think you did.’ Bharti shrugged.
‘Why not? Everyone else does,’ Lydia said bitterly.
Bharti shrugged again. ‘I never do what I’m supposed to. That’s why I’m always in trouble.’
Over Bharti’s shoulder, Lydia saw Anne and Frankie walk through the door, arm in arm. They both noticed Lydia immediately. Anne said something to Frankie, who tilted back her head and roared with laughter. Lydia looked away, her face on fire.
‘Hhmm! I bet Anne’s happy now,’ said Bharti as she watched them too.
‘What d’you mean?’ Lydia asked.
‘She and Frankie used to be best friends until you turned up. Then it was you and Frankie,’ Bharti explained. ‘Now it’s back to the status quo.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ Lydia said thoughtfully.
‘Now you do,’ said Bharti.
Lydia turned to look at Anne and Frankie again, watching as they laughed at some unknown joke. And in that moment Lydia knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Anne was the one who’d set her up.
Chapter Seven
The Message Spreads
‘Mum, I don’t want to go.’
‘I can’t manage the shopping all by myself.’
‘Danny’s going with you,’ Lydia protested. ‘Why d’you need me as well?’
‘Lydia, I’ve had enough of this. Go and put your coat on. And wear your trainers or your boots – it’s slippery outside.’
Lydia scowled up at her mum. She recognized that tone of voice. Her mum had made up her mind and nothing short of a ton of semtex would shift her now. Lydia turned her head to stare back out of the window. The road and pavement glistened like glass from the severe overnight frost. High above, grey clouds were beginning to sweep across the town. Lydia sighed. All she wanted to do was watch the world go by from the front room window. Why couldn’t everyone just leave her alone?
‘Lydia, move! NOW!’ Mum said angrily.
‘But someone from my class might see me,’ Lydia whispered.
‘So what? You didn’t do anything to be ashamed of,’ Mum said. ‘How many times must I tell you? Hold your head high and don’t let anyone make you feel ashamed of something you haven’t done.’
Lydia sighed deeply as she uncurled her legs from beneath her and stood up. She looked at her mum again, making a silent appeal.
‘Hurry up, Lydia. I don’t want to spend my entire Saturday stuck in the supermarket,’ Mum said.
So much for that! Lydia looked down at Danny, who lay flat out on his stomach in front of the television. He was playing with his latest football game.
‘Danny, go and put your shoes on. You can’t go shopping in your slippers,’ Mum said.
Danny pressed the PAUSE button. ‘Can’t I just finish . . . ?’
‘No, you can’t!’ Mum exploded. ‘You children are driving me up the wall and on to the roof! Now I want both of you in the car in one minute.’
And with that Mum marched out of the room.
‘Since last week, everyone’s been so grouchy,’ Danny complained. ‘Snap! Snap! Snap! All the time.’
‘And it’s all my fault. Go on! Say it!’ Lydia said furiously.
‘Well, excuse me all over the place! That’s not what I meant and you know it. Don’t you snap at me as well.’
‘Sorry, Danny.’ Lydia dragged the words out.
‘I should think so, too.’ Danny sniffed. ‘I don’t care what anyone else says, Lyddy. I know you didn’t do anything wrong.’
Lydia smiled. Before Danny realized what she had planned, she kissed him on the cheek.
‘Ugh! Yeuk!’ Danny rubbed his cheek vigorously. ‘I’m going to have a whole load of spots there tomorrow! Are you nuts?’
‘I must be to kiss my baby brother,’ Lydia said sourly.
Danny and Lydia glared at each other until their lips started to twitch. Then they both started laughing. Lydia pushed lightly against Danny’s left shoulder. Danny pushed her back. They both s
miled.
‘Come on. We’d better get going before Mum goes into orbit,’ said Lydia.
After putting on their trainers, coats, scarves, hats and gloves, they both left the house in silence.
Lydia emerged from the car like a snail from its shell. She looked around, her teeth clamped together so tightly that her jaw ached. The car-park was almost full, with people milling around everywhere. The supermarket was at the edge of town, very close to the moors. Thanks to the traffic, it had taken them ages to get there – at least fifteen minutes – but Lydia wished fervently that the journey could have lasted until everything was closed. The supermarket was usually only six or seven minutes’ drive from the house and Lydia’s mum wasn’t exactly a Sunday driver. According to Dad she was more of a speed demon! And ever since she and Dad had bought their brand new car a couple of months before, there’d been no stopping her!
Lydia looked out beyond the car-park to the moors. Although dull grey clouds filled the sky above the Tarwich shops and houses, the sky over the moors blazed pink and orange. These colours moved around each other in a slow, fluid dance. Lydia felt a peculiar prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She rubbed her nape as she stared at the strange sky. She felt oddly attracted to the sight and yet, at the same time, it gave her a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Someone laughing nearby brought Lydia out of her daydream. She hastily looked down.
Don’t let me see anyone from school. Please.
Maybe, if she said it enough times, it would come true.
‘Another fun-packed Saturday getting crushed at Sainsbury’s,’ Mum grumbled.
Moments later, she passed the food trolley to Lydia and they all entered the supermarket.
‘Danny, just behave yourself, OK. I don’t want any of your nonsense today,’ Mum said.
‘But I haven’t done anything,’ Danny protested.
‘Let’s just keep it that way, shall we?’ Mum said.
‘Is that fair or what?’ Danny huffed. ‘I’m being told off and I haven’t even done anything.’
Danny muttered under his breath for at least an aisle and a half. For the first couple of aisles, Lydia hardly dared to look up. Everyone would be looking at her. They would all know what she was supposed to have done.
Don’t look up, Lydia. Then you won’t have to face anyone. You won’t have to see that word in everyone’s eyes, on everyone’s faces. Thief . . .
‘Lyddy, have you got a headache? Is the light hurting your eyes?’ Danny whispered.
‘No. Why?’
‘You keep looking down,’ Danny said.
‘Shut up and leave me alone,’ Lydia hissed.
They turned down the third aisle – full of slices of bloody beef and chilled lamb and cooked chickens, all wrapped in polystyrene and cellophane. And then Lydia saw her. Anne. With her mum.
The only sound in the whole of the supermarket was Lydia’s blood roaring through her body. She stared, horror-stricken. It took a few moments for Anne to realize that she was being watched. Her head turned and her eyes met Lydia’s. As Lydia watched, Anne’s eyes narrowed and a tiny smile played over her lips. Lydia lowered her head immediately, every atom of her body on fire.
‘Mum, I don’t feel well. Can I go and sit in the car?’ Lydia whispered.
With a frown, Mum placed a hand on Lydia’s forehead.
‘You don’t have a temperature,’ she said.
‘I feel terrible. Please.’
‘No, I don’t think so. Breathing in this recycled air-conditioning is a lot healthier than breathing in carbon monoxide fumes in the car-park,’ Mum said firmly.
‘Mum, Anne Turner from my class is in front of us. Please let me leave,’ Lydia pleaded.
‘No. I’d say she’s all the more reason to stand your ground,’ Mum replied.
And that was the end of that. Lydia had no choice but to keep pushing the trolley. She kept her eyes on her hands in front of her.
‘Mum, that’s the girl I was telling you about,’ Anne said at the top of her voice. ‘That’s the thief!’
There was no way everyone in the aisle didn’t hear Anne. Feeling sick, Lydia looked around. Everyone was looking at her.
Anne’s mum pulled her daughter away from Lydia as if she thought that being a supposed thief was contagious.
‘Don’t you dare call my sister a thief,’ Danny said furiously.
His voice was even louder than Anne’s. Lydia wanted to crawl into the nearest hole and never come out again.
‘Danny, that’s enough,’ Mum said quietly.
‘But she said . . .’
‘I’m well aware of what she said,’ Mum interrupted. Mum turned to Anne’s mum.
‘Mrs Turner, my daughter isn’t a thief. I suggest you tell your daughter to get her facts straight,’ Mum said, adding under her breath, ‘And teach her some manners while you’re at it.’
‘Anne’s told me all about your daughter,’ Anne’s mum said pointedly. ‘That cup has been at Collivale School since I was a girl. She had no right to take it.’
‘Lydia didn’t take it.’ Lydia’s mum spoke even more quietly than before. ‘In fact, your daughter was with her the night the cup went missing.’
Mrs Turner frowned and turned to Anne. ‘Is that true?’
‘No, Mum,’ Anne replied immediately. ‘Lydia’s just trying to wriggle off the hook and put me on it instead.’
‘That’s a lie. You were with me that night,’ Lydia gasped.
‘No, I wasn’t. You’re just a liar as well as a thief,’ Anne said viciously.
‘My daughter is neither of those things,’ Lydia’s mum denied.
‘If you say so,’ said Anne’s mum. ‘Come on, Anne. We have shopping to buy.’
‘And just what does that mean? Are you insinuating something?’ Lydia’s mum asked.
‘Mum, let’s go. Please let’s go,’ Lydia implored.
The decision to get away was taken out of Lydia’s hands. Mrs Turner took Anne firmly by the hand and practically dragged her away. Scalding hot tears burnt a trail down Lydia’s cheeks. She looked around. The eyes of everyone in the aisle were on her. The security camera at the end of the aisle, past the checkout counter, was trained on her. The whole world had turned into a pair of eyes.
‘Mum, can I sit in the car? Please?’
‘No.’
‘I hate you,’ Lydia hissed at her mum. ‘I hate you and I’ll never forgive you.’
‘That’s enough, Lydia,’ Mum said quietly.
Beside Lydia, Danny started to sniff. Slow, embarrassed tears that he couldn’t control slid down his cheeks.
‘It’s OK, Danny. I’m sorry. Don’t cry.’ Lydia put her arm around her brother’s shoulders.
‘I’m not crying.’ Danny wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
They carried on walking down the aisle. Lydia looked at her brother. Even if no one else did, Danny believed in her. Not in the way that Mum did, by thinking that Lydia should hold her head high and that was all that mattered. Not in the way that Dad did, by believing that no daughter of his could have done such a thing. No, Danny really and truly believed that she, Lydia, hadn’t stolen the cup. And Lydia needed that – more than anything else.
As they queued at the checkout counter, Lydia smiled tentatively at Danny. He smiled back. They didn’t need to do or say anything else.
‘Lydia?’
At the sound of her name, Lydia’s head whipped around. She couldn’t believe it.
‘Frankie!’ Lydia said, stunned.
‘Hello, Lydia.’ Frankie smiled uncertainly. ‘Er . . . how are you?’
‘I’m OK,’ Lydia said slowly. Why was Frankie asking? She didn’t care. She hadn’t said one word to Lydia over the last week. Not one.
‘I . . . I just wanted to say . . . I know you didn’t take the cup . . .’
‘Oh yeah? What’s changed your mind, Frances?’ Lydia asked, her eyes blazing. She’d used Frankie’s real name deliberately, wanting to give bac
k just a little of the hurt she was feeling – even if it was just a very little.
‘Lydia, I’m on your side . . .’
‘Are you, Frances? You could’ve fooled me,’ Lydia said, turning away from her.
‘Look, can we . . . ?’ Frankie got no further.
‘Frankie, I didn’t know you were here.’ Appearing as if from nowhere, Anne linked arms with Frankie, ignoring Lydia and her family completely. ‘Come and say hello to my mum.’
Frankie allowed Anne to lead her away. She turned her head to look back at Lydia, frustration written all over her face.
‘Lydia, that wasn’t very nice,’ Mum said quietly.
‘What wasn’t?’
‘Cutting her dead like that. Frankie obviously wanted to talk to you. She was trying to be friendly, which is more than can be said for that other one,’ Mum pointed out.
‘Well, I didn’t want to talk to her.’
‘Don’t be too proud to let her be your friend,’ Mum warned.
‘I hate her and Anne and everyone else at that rotten school.’
‘Now Lydia . . .’
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ said Lydia stubbornly.
She wished her mum would just drop the subject. Mum shook her head but took the hint and said nothing.
‘I’m your friend, Lyddy,’ Danny whispered.
Moments passed before Lydia spoke.
‘D’you know something, Danny? In this whole, stinking town you’re the only true friend I’ve got,’ she replied.
‘Lydia, that’s enough. I’m sure you’ll find a way of showing everyone that you didn’t . . .’
‘Don’t start that again, Mum,’ Lydia interrupted. ‘It doesn’t matter – not any more. Danny’s the only friend I’ve got and he’s the only friend I want.’
Lydia turned to where Frankie stood with Anne and her mum. Something inside her curled up into a very tight, painful knot and sat like a rock in her stomach. Lydia clenched her fists.
‘I’ll get my own back on you, Anne, and you, Frankie, if it’s the last thing I do. I swear I will,’ she said slowly.