Suzy K Quinn - Don’t Tell Teacher

From SUZY:

Every page in this book is a connection between us – author and reader.

I am so grateful you have chosen to make that connection.

I love talking to readers, so feel free to get in touch:

Email: suzykquinn@devoted-ebooks.com

Facebook.com/suzykquinn (You can friend request me. I like friends.)

Twitter: @suzykquinn

Website: www.suzykquinn.com

Don’t Tell Teacher

Suzy K Quinn

ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

Copyright

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019

Copyright © Suzy K Quinn 2019

Suzy K Quinn asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © March 2019 ISBN: 9780008323165

Version: 2019-02-21

For my little girls, Lexi and Laya – sorry this isn’t a bedtime

story. You can read it when you’re older :) xx

Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Ruth

Lizzie

Lizzie

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Ruth

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Ruth

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Ruth

Lizzie

Olly

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Lizzie

Kate

Lizzie

Olly

Kate

Olly

Acknowledgements

Extract of Not My Daughter

About the Publisher

Prologue

We’re running. Along wide, tree-lined pavements, over the zebra crossing and into the park .

‘Quick, Tom.’

Tom struggles to keep up, tired little legs bobbing up and down on trimmed grass. He gasps for breath .

My ribs throb, lighting up in pain .

A Victorian bandstand and a rainbow of flowerbeds flash past. Dimly, I notice wicker picnic hampers, Prosecco, Pimm’s in plastic glasses .

No one notices us. The frightened mother with straight, brown hair, wearing her husband’s choice of clothes. The little boy in tears .

That’s the thing about the city. Nobody notices .

There’s a giant privet hedge by the railings, big enough to hide in .

Tom cries harder. I cuddle him in my arms. ‘Don’t make a sound,’ I whisper, heart racing. ‘Don’t make a sound.’

Tom nods rapidly .

We both clutch each other, terrified. I shiver, even though it’s a warm summer’s day .

Tom gives a choked sob. ‘Will he find us, Mum?’

‘Shush,’ I say, crouching in my flat leather sandals, summer dress flowing over my knees. ‘Please, Tom. We have to be quiet.’

‘I’m scared.’ Tom clasps my bare arm .

‘I know, sweetheart,’ I whisper, holding his head against my shoulder. ‘We’re going away. Far away from him.’

‘What if he gets me at school?’

‘We’ll find a new school. One he doesn’t know about. Okay?’

Tom’s chest is against mine, his breathing fast .

He understands that we can’t be found .

Olly is capable of anything .

Lizzie

Monday. School starts. It won’t be like the last place, Tom knows that. It will be hard, being the new kid.

‘Come on, Tommo,’ I call up the stairs. ‘Let’s go go go. We don’t want to be late on our first day.’

I pack Tom’s school bag, then give my hair a few quick brushes, checking my reflection in the hallway mirror.

A pale, worried face stares back at me. Pointy little features, a heart-shaped chin, brown hair, long and ruler-straight.

The invisible woman.

Olly’s broken ex-wife.

I want to change that. I want to be someone different here.

No one needs to know how things were before.

Tom clatters down the polished, wooden staircase in his new Steelfield school uniform. I throw my arms around him.

‘A hug to make you grow big and strong,’ I say. ‘You get taller with every cuddle. Did you know that?’

‘I know, Mum. You tell me every morning.’

I hand him his blue wool coat. I’ve always liked this colour against Tom’s bright blond hair and pale skin. The coat is from last winter, but he still hasn’t grown out of it. Tom is small for his age; at nearly nine he looks more like seven.

We head out and onto the muddy track, stopping at a blackberry bush to pick berries.

Tom counts as he eats and sings.

‘One, two, three, four, five – to stay alive.’

‘It’s going to be exciting,’ I coax as Tom and I pass the school playing field. ‘Look at all that grass. You didn’t have that in London. And they’ve got a little woodland bit.’ I point to the trees edging the field. ‘And full-sized goalposts.’

‘What if Dad finds us?’ Tom watches the stony ground.

‘He won’t. Don’t worry. We’re safe here.’

‘I like our new house,’ says Tom. ‘It’s a family house. Like in Peter Pan .’

We walk on in silence and birds skitter across the path.

Tom says, ‘Hello, birds. Do you live here? Oh – did you hurt your leg, little birdy? I hope you feel better soon.’

They really are beautiful school grounds – huge and tree-lined, with bright green grass. Up ahead there is a silver, glimmering spider’s web tangled through the fence wire: an old bike chain bent around to repair a hole.

I wonder, briefly, why there is a hole in the fence. I’m sure there’s some logical explanation. This is an excellent school … But I’ve never seen a fence this tall around a school. It’s like a zoo enclosure.