Sugar Secrets…& Freedom Read online

  Maya was untouchable, unshakeable – she was the rock among them. Now something had shaken her up, and that rattled them all.

  “But I thought you kind of got off on all that studying?” said Sonja lamely.

  Maya rolled her eyes. “Just because I’m smart doesn’t mean I enjoy everything I do.”

  Coming from anyone else it might have sounded big-headed, but they all understood what Maya meant. The top stream in every subject was her natural home and no one could deny how brainy she was.

  “OK, so your parents are a bit strict and everything,” Sonja continued, trying to make sense of what was going on, “but they don’t stop you coming out with us, do they?”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, everyone realised that that wasn’t quite true. There had been plenty of occasions when Maya had bailed out from an outing and none of them had ever pushed her for an explanation. Without spelling it out, they understood that when Maya said no, she meant no, and it wasn’t necessarily her choice.

  “But even during term time, you’re here most days after school with us, aren’t you?” Kerry ventured, trying to say something positive.

  Maya gave a hollow laugh. “Yes, but only because my parents assume I’m actually at home studying. By the time Mum commutes back from the city and Dad finishes surgery, it’s nearly seven. I’m always safely back in my room by then, working hard like the good little daughter I’m supposed to be.”

  “What about the nights we all go out?” asked Joe, amazed at the notion of Maya being in any way a liar. “What do you tell them then?”

  “Oh, I try to stick to the truth – it’s just that I usually don’t tell them the whole truth,” she answered, her gaze dropping to the table. “It’s like, when I’ve been to see bands with you guys… well, I tell them it’s a concert. And that seems fine, as long as they don’t realise it’s in the back of a pub or in a venue that has a bar or whatever.”

  “What about my parties? You come to plenty of them,” said Matt.

  His house parties were legendary: a den with its own sound system, a fridge full of pizza and beer – Matt was never short of guests.

  “Well, they’ve never met your dad, but they know who he is,” Maya pointed out, referring to Matt’s very influential, very rich, property developer father. “That makes you sound quite respectable.”

  Cat burst out laughing. “Mr Love Pants!? Respectable? Who are you kidding?”

  Matt shot her a cutting look. The last thing needed at this point was any of Cat’s barbed comments.

  “Of course, the other thing is…” Maya hesitated. “Well, they think you’re only sixteen.”

  “What?” Matt burst out, suddenly offended.

  “And they think you’re still at Bartdale’s.”

  “But I left the place more than a year ago!” protested Matt, shuddering at the memory of the private school where he’d boarded for more years than he cared to remember.

  “Yes, but if I told them you were an eighteen-year-old unemployed wannabe DJ, who dossed around at his daddy’s expense, hosting wild parties whenever possible, do you think they’d let me set foot in your driveway, never mind your house?”

  “Uh, I guess not,” said Matt, reeling slightly from Maya’s unflattering description.

  “Ouch!” said Ollie quietly, wincing as he watched Matt wither under Maya’s gaze.

  Matt prided himself on being up with the latest dance music, up with the latest fashion, popular with half the girls in Winstead – wait a minute, make that the county. To find himself reduced by Maya to the level of chancer/scrounger took his breath away.

  But then that was Maya for you. Kerry was just a sweetheart, Sonja was his buddy and Cat – well, Cat was another matter. But Maya could always slay him with her ultra-direct way of talking.

  “It’s just that I’ve had enough of it.” Maya pronounced, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand. A vision of her father reading over her homework before she handed it in appeared annoyingly in her head. Wasn’t that what teachers were there for?

  “So what are you going to do?” asked Kerry, peering earnestly through her wire-rimmed specs.

  “That’s the problem,” sighed Maya despairingly, without opening her eyes. “What the hell can I do?”

  CHAPTER 3

  SNAP DECISION

  “Eurghhh – I don’t like them!” said Ravi, pointing at the courgettes that Brigid was cutting up for the vegetable lasagne.

  “Well, everybody else does, so you know what you can do, don’t you?” said Brigid, busily making dinner for the Joshi family.

  “What?” said Ravi, looking up at Brigid’s serious face.

  “Pick them out!” she grinned, putting down her knife and tickling him.

  Pulling her books out from her bag, Maya smiled as she watched Ravi and Brigid muck around.

  Brigid was wonderful – she’d helped the family out since they moved to Winstead from the city, her official duties being to pick Ravi up from school (or holiday club now that it was summer), oversee homework (which still went on in the Joshi household, even if didn’t in any other family’s at this time of year) and make dinner in time for Maya’s parents coming home.

  But apart from that, the jolly, fifty-something Irish woman was a good friend to all the Joshi children – happy to sit and play Jenga with Ravi, to listen to Sunny witter on about her favourite boy bands and, most of all, to keep schtum about Maya’s after-school activities.

  “Ravi – would you look at you!” Brigid suddenly gasped. “I take it you did some painting at your group today?”

  “Uh-huh?” he nodded up at her.

  “Well, did you not know you’re meant to put paint on to paper, not your hands!”

  Ravi looked down at his paint-splattered hands.

  “Go on and get them washed!” Brigid chided him gently and watched him trotting off. Then, halting her chopping for a second, she looked over her shoulder at Maya. “And what would be the matter with you? You’re not looking too happy. Is it the Monday blues?”

  “Oh, I’m a bit fed up generally, that’s all,” Maya answered. It was an understatement, but she didn’t want to moan on to Brigid; she’d just spent an hour doing that to her friends down at the End. And although it had been a relief to talk about it, it hadn’t actually solved anything or helped her feel any better.

  “You know what you need, don’t you?” said Brigid.

  A different life? thought Maya, but instead said, “What’s that, then, Brigid?”

  “A hobby,” said Brigid firmly. “What with all your studying, even in the holidays, you could really do with something else to get the brain cells going in a different way.”

  “What, like knitting?” Maya laughed.

  “No, y’daft thing!” Brigid laughed back. “Now, for example, my niece Ashleigh – she’s just started going to a photography club at the Downfield Adult Education Centre. D’you know it?”

  “Yes, my friends Joe and Ollie live near there,” nodded Maya, suddenly remembering a photography project she’d done in Year Eight as part of her art class. Four of them had worked on it, recording a day in the life of the animal shelter in the city – it had been brilliant fun. “But it’ll just be for adults then…”

  “Oh no, this class is especially for teenagers. My Ashleigh’s been going for a couple of weeks now. She saw a poster for it on the notice board when she was passing.”

  Brigid went back to chopping the courgettes, leaving Maya deep in thought.

  Maya was still thinking about it later that evening, when she glanced into the living room and saw that her parents were absorbed in the nine o’clock news.

  “I’m just going to make a quick phone call,” she said from the doorway, trying to sound casual. Her father turned round and nodded at her.

  “Close the door then, so we can hear the television.”

  “Sure,” she replied, grabbing the handle. It wasn’t as though Maya wanted them to hea
r her conversation anyway.

  Pulling the phone lead as far from the living room as it would go, Maya sat herself on the bottom of the stairs and dialled.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mrs Gladwin? It’s Maya. Is Joe there?”

  “Certainly, dear! Hold on!”

  In the muffled distance, Maya could hear Joe saying, “What, Maya – for me?” It was typical Joe: he was only just getting more confident at speaking to his girl mates face to face, but for some reason, over the phone, he still reverted to being Shy Boy extraordinaire.

  “Maya?” he said tentatively, picking up the receiver at last.

  “Hi, Joe! Did you stay down at the End for much longer after I left tonight?”

  “Er, nah.”

  “Well, listen – I need a favour…”

  “Er, OK.”

  I wish he wouldn’t get like this, thought Maya, aware of how tongue-tied he was. I know he’s nervous with girls as a whole, but you’d think he’d be used to us lot by now…

  “You know the Downfield Adult Education Centre?” she continued.

  “Sure.”

  “Listen – on their notice board there’s some information about a photography club. Can you check it out for me and let me know what it says?”

  “Sure.”

  “Brilliant! Thanks! Well, I’ve got my maths thing tomorrow, but I’ll see you down the End after that, OK?”

  “Sure.”

  “Bye, Joe.”

  “Er, yeah, bye!”

  Oh, Joe, you are a funny guy, smiled Maya, putting down the phone. Immediately, her mind turned to her old school project. Where were those photos packed away? She’d love to dig them out and look at them again…

  Lost in thought, Maya didn’t register the creak of the bedroom door at the top of the stairs, let alone notice Sunny disappearing into her room after earwigging her big sister’s conversation.

  Joe kicked a stone off the pavement and wondered what to say next.

  It was Wednesday afternoon and, having nothing better to do, Joe had called in for Maya before going to the café. But now he wished he hadn’t. Strolling along the road together, the silence was almost painful. He shot a sidelong glance at Maya and saw her gazing at her watch for what felt like the fiftieth time in the last five minutes.

  “Yes, it’s still 4.30 and it’s still only Wednesday!” he felt like teasing her, but, being Joe, he gulped down the words and shrugged instead.

  Joe hated this feeling of struggling to communicate with his mates – the female ones especially.

  Like on the phone, the other night… He winced at the memory. How much of a gimp must I have sounded to Maya?

  It was fine when Maya and Sonja and the others did most of the talking; he could relax then and start to join in without being too swamped with awkwardness. But when there were silences like this… he felt that if he dared open his mouth, stupid words would tumble out and hang in the air in a big speech bubble.

  You’re mad, you know that? he told himself. She’s unhappy, she’s your friend – just talk to her!

  “Hey, smile! It may never, er, happen…” he said limply, imagining that speech bubble bobbing above his head.

  “Sorry, Joe, I was miles away,” Maya answered, trying to force the corners of her mouth into a positive shape.

  “Penny for ‘em?”

  Oh God, Joe! he cringed inwardly. You’re sounding like your mother…

  “What?” asked Maya, momentarily confused.

  “Er, your thoughts. Penny for your thoughts.” Joe felt his cheeks flush as he spelt out his lame comment. Actually, for a second there, looking all wrapped up in her thoughts, Maya had reminded him slightly of Kerry. Which made him blush even more.

  “Right, right,” said Maya vaguely. “It’s just, well, you know that photography club you found out about for me?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Joe nodded. He’d copied down all the details from the notice board before he’d made his way to the End the day before and given them to Maya as soon as she arrived. After her unexpected phone call on Monday night, Joe had thought she would have shown more interest in the details but, after one quick read-through, she’d crumpled up the note and said, “Well, there goes that idea.” It had been a bit odd.

  “It’s on tonight,” said Maya quietly.

  “Yeah, Wednesday. I remember,” Joe nodded again.

  “It starts at five o’clock,” Maya continued, her super-straight hair bobbing as she walked.

  “Uh-huh. And you said yesterday that you wouldn’t be able to go because you wouldn’t be able to sneak back home before your parents got in from work…” Joe prompted, trying to figure out what she was thinking. He felt all right now; that crushing uncomfortableness had lifted once the conversation had got going.

  “That’s right. They wouldn’t want me to do it because they’d worry that I’d want to keep it up once I start sixth form after summer, and that would never do,” said Maya bitterly.

  “And A-levels mean commitment!” quipped Joe, remembering the line Maya said her parents were drumming into her.

  “Oh, but, Joe – I really want to go!” she whimpered, scrunching up her nose like a five-year-old who had been told it was time for bed. It really wasn’t a Maya thing to do.

  “But what choice have you got? If you reckon your parents would be dead against it…”

  “I know! But it’s just not fair!”

  Joe looked at his friend to check he was with the right person – this sort of whingeing was more up Catrina’s street.

  “C’mon,” he said as they approached the turning that would take them towards the End-of-the-Line café. “Ollie and Sonja will cheer you up. And if they can’t, we can always laugh at whatever bizarre thing Cat’s squeezed herself into today.”

  Instead of laughing, as Joe hoped she would, Maya stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Sorry, Joe,” she said, suddenly breaking into a smile, “I’ve got other plans.”

  “Uh, where are you going?” he asked as she turned and headed off down a side street.

  “Guess!” she grinned over her shoulder.

  “But what about your parents?” he called after her.

  “Tough!” she shouted and gave him a wave.

  Wow, this is getting weird, thought Joe as he watched Maya stroll away with a super-confident swagger. Now she’s turned into Sonja…

  CHAPTER 4

  MAYA JOINS THE CLUB

  The sour smell of the chemicals made her catch her breath.

  But it was exciting, taking Maya right back to those days at her old school in the city. Art had been her favourite subject and the art class was where she had found her best friends.

  And now… now there were no more art classes and no more old friends – Emma, Becky and Sabine had never stayed in touch with Maya once her family had moved to Winstead. They’d started to drift away from her before that, of course, when, subject-wise, Maya had gone down the route of ‘all science and serious stuff as Becky had called it, and they’d stopped being in the same classes.

  “Well, that’s life,” Maya had told herself at the time, although it hurt her more than anyone knew.

  Standing in the doorway of the one-storey, breeze-block-built annexe, she breathed in the pungent smell again and gazed around. There were about half a dozen people pottering around a room that was plastered in an amazing array of mostly black and white prints. Over to the right was another door with an unlit red light above it and the message ‘Knock first – or I’ll have to kill you!’ printed boldly on an A3 sheet of paper. The darkroom, obviously.

  “Hi, are you here for the camera club?”

  Maya nodded.

  “Come on in, then – and shut the door!”

  The gruff Glaswegian tones belonged to a tall, lanky guy in his late twenties who stood slightly stooped as if the ceiling was too low for his frame, or as if he was slightly apologetic about his own height.

  “I’m Alex,” he grinned, bounding over
to her. “I teach art here at Downfield. And photography, obviously!”

  “I’m Maya – Maya Joshi,” she smiled back. At least he seemed friendly.

  Despite her show of bravado when she’d left Joe, she’d had a bad case of butterflies as she’d followed the signs to this building. It was hard going somewhere new on your own – but then Maya had done quite a bit of that over the last few years.

  “Done any photography before, Maya?”

  “Yes, but not for a long time,” she answered, thinking back to the mounted prints that she still hadn’t found, despite rummaging through every cupboard in the house that morning.

  “No worries, it’ll soon come back to you. Now let me get your details,” said the teacher, walking towards a table and motioning her to a chair.

  Scribbling down her name in a jotter, Alex explained more about the club. “You’ve only missed a couple of meetings; it started at the beginning of the holidays. But it’s not just a summer thing – it’ll be ongoing. Are you up for that?”

  “Yes, I think so,” said Maya enthusiastically, before remembering the glitch that was bothering her. “I can’t stay for the full two hours though – I have to be home before seven.”

  “OK,” Alex nodded. “Come a bit earlier then, if you like, so you don’t miss out. I’m always here setting up well before five o’clock anyway.”

  “Thanks,” she smiled, taking another quick glance round the room and itching to get started.

  “Now, here’s where we get technical,” he smiled. “Have you got your own camera, Maya?”

  “Just a cheap instant snap job,” she admitted, her heart sinking. She remembered the chunky, professional 35mm camera she’d borrowed from her old school. Her little snapper didn’t really compare – and she could see from the slight grimace on the teacher’s face that he thought so too.

  “It’ll do if you haven’t got anything else, but obviously, if you can get your hands on something like this…” he leant over and grabbed a Pentax from the worktop, “…it’s much better in that you can change lenses and experiment a lot more. There are usually plenty you could borrow from the centre, but unfortunately everyone else got in before you.”