Название: Invisible Girl
Автор: Kate Maryon
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Книги для детей: прочее
isbn: 9780007466917
isbn:
Dad presses his hand over his mouth, stopping his words from tumbling out.
“Where were you, Dad?” I whisper, tears escaping from my eyes. “I thought you’d had a car crash! I thought you’d died! It’s all her fault – you never did anything like this before Amy was around!”
I dig my nails into my palms and wish they were Amy’s flesh. Dad doesn’t say one word, he won’t even look at me. He just flops on the sofa and sighs. He snaps open another can of lager.
“Oh, give it a rest, Miss Doom and Gloom. We’re getting married,” Amy says in a sharp voice, flopping next to Dad and sliding into his arms. “There, I’ve said it. Your dad is no longer your property, he’s mine. It’s official and it’s going to happen whether you like it or not and for your information it’s not up to Dave who my bridesmaids are, it’s up to me. And I’m having my best mates. We’re having an adults only big flash bash on a sunny beach somewhere exotic, aren’t we, Dave? Somewhere far away from this old dump. It’s none of your business where we were last night, Miss Flappy Ears, but if you must know, we were in a very expensive, very posh hotel! Celebrating!”
Dad’s been weird since asking Amy to marry him. He’s gone quieter than ever, drifting round the flat like a wisp-thin ghost. Amy’s got louder and bossier, like one of those Salvador Dali paintings from my book, all twisted and unpredictable. She’s spending our money on things for the wedding every single day. She’s bought two dresses already so she can choose. But we’re not allowed to see. She shuts herself in Dad’s room with her friends and they coo over them like they were kittens. She’s bought special silky underwear and these pearly shoes that shimmer. She got Dad this smart grey suit with a pink silk shirt and a purple cravat and he says he feels like a turkey all trussed up for Christmas. I’m more invisible than ever. No one’s speaking to me. They wouldn’t even notice if I never came home.
Amy’s the only important one round here. She’s high up, towering above us like a queen, making up all the rules. And I’m getting so used to being invisible that I’m shocked when Mrs Evans tells me I got an A+ for my still-life art project. She says my painting stands out from the crowd and it’s going on the special display board for Parents’ Evening for everyone to see. Dad won’t see it, because he never bothers with Parents’ Evening, but I run home quick to whisper my news to Blue Bunny.
“Here,” says Amy, shoving an envelope in my hand when I get to the top of the stairs. She’s standing by our front door with her sunglasses propped up on her head. “Take it, quick. I’ve got to go.”
She squints from the sunlight and pulls her mirrored sunglasses down so I can’t see her eyes.
“And take this,” she says, dropping a bulging backpack on the ground in front of me. “We put as much of your stuff in as we could.”
“Amy,” I say. “What are you on about?”
“It’s all in the envelope,” she says. “Your dad’s written everything down. Come on, quick, give me your key to the flat.”
I stare at the white envelope, my name scrawled across the front in Dad’s loopy handwriting. I stare at the fat backpack on the ground.
“Why do you need my key?” I say. “I need it to get in. Come on, Amy, I’m desperate for a wee.” Then it dawns on me.
“Oh, no! Did someone break in again?” I ask. “Did Dad have to change the locks?”
“No, dummy,” says Amy, waggling her hand in front of my face. “Look, Gabriella, I did you a favour waiting for you; you should be grateful. I was worried someone might nick your stuff and then you’d be stranded. Anyway, we need to give your key back to the landlord. Your stupid dad forgot to pay the rent. Stupid fat bum he is!”
My tummy sinks to the ground and a red rage blazes inside me.
“I knew this would happen,” I screech. “It’s all your fault. Dad’s not stupid, he’s just kind. Mum used to trample all over him just like you do and it’s not fair. We were OK before you came along. I told him we mustn’t spend all the money. It’s gone on that stupid wedding stuff you got!”
She tuts and checks her watch.
“Gabriella,” she says, “I’ve had enough of listening to you gabble on about stuff. It’s not important. You’re not important. I tried to be a good mother to you and make your life better, but what thanks do I get, eh? Anyway, you’re not my problem any more.”
I fumble in my bag for the key, my hands fluttering like leaves.
“What are we going to do?” I say. “Where are we going to live?”
“Just be a good girl for once in your tiny life, stop asking questions and give me the key,” she sneers. “Everything’s explained in the letter. But think about it, Gabriella, your dad’s not that kind, is he? He’s known about the eviction for a few weeks now. If he was that much of a kind guy he’d have told you all about it. If he was that nice he’d have been waiting here to give you your bag. He’d have put you on the train and kissed you goodbye himself.”
Her words hit me like a car, spinning me through the air, rocking me sideways. “Wh… what…” I stammer. “What train?”
“I told you,” she says. “I haven’t got time to stand here and explain it all. You’re going on a train to your mum’s and we’re catching a plane to somewhere exotic. Yay!”
She waggles her fingers in my face again, her big fat diamond engagement ring glinting in the sun.
“I’m the lucky one!” she sings. “I always have been and always will be, you’ll see!” Then she turns and runs down the stairs, her sandals clicking and clacking on the concrete.
“And,” she shouts up at me, “don’t get yourself into trouble, Gabriella, OK?”
I lean over the edge of the balcony. “Amy!” I shout. “Where’s Dad? I don’t understand! You can’t just leave me!”
Then a smart car with a taxi sign on top screeches to a halt outside our flat. Dad’s in the back, his face turned away from me. Amy jumps in next to him. Everything’s going in slow motion like it sometimes does in films.
“Dad!” I shout, racing down the stairs, my tummy dangling off strings, twisting and turning in knots. “Dad, what’s going on?”
He doesn’t even look at me; the taxi driver flashes the indicator light and zooms away. I run after them, calling “Dad” over and over, but I can’t catch up and the car disappears round the corner and gets lost in the stream of traffic.
Back up the stairs I pull my phone out of my bag and call him. It goes straight through to answer phone without ringing and so does Amy’s. I know they won’t answer, I know they’ve gone, but I can’t stop pressing the green button over and over and over, my shaky thumbs slipping and sliding on the keys.
“What’s СКАЧАТЬ