Eva and the Hidden Diary Read online




  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  About the Author

  By the Same Author

  Copyright

  Other Books

  Chapter One

  I was nervous as I walked towards the front door. After all, I was the one who’d brought this family together, and if they were unhappy, it would be partly my fault.

  I took a deep breath and knocked. There was no answer. They probably couldn’t hear me above the sudden burst of laughter that came from inside. I took a step closer and peeped through the open door. Inside, my friend Kate and her step-mum Zoe were doubled over laughing like they were going to die. Kate’s Dad, Patrick, and her little brother, Simon, were rolling on the floor, having some kind of noisy play-fight that involved lots of stuffed toys and cushions and armfuls of shredded newspaper. In the corner, Kate’s granny, Martha, was calmly knitting, as if nothing much was going on.

  I knew it was rude, but I stood there for a while and watched. I remembered when I’d first met Kate. Back then she’d lived with Martha, while Patrick, Zoe and Simon lived in London. Kate was lonely and sad, and in the end, I stepped in and managed to get the family back together. When they appeared, Kate’s worst summer magically turned into her best summer ever.

  I was wondering if I should just walk away, leaving them to their happy family stuff, when Kate looked up and saw me.

  ‘OMG!’ she squealed. ‘You’re here. At last you’re here! Hey, everyone, Eva’s here.’

  I stepped inside, and they all said ‘hi’ (except for Simon, who was busy attacking his dad’s leg with a furry dinosaur). I couldn’t answer though, as Kate had raced towards me and almost knocked me to the ground in a great big bear hug.

  ‘I’m guessing you missed me too,’ I said when I finally escaped.

  ‘A small bit,’ she said, looking embarrassed.

  It was great to see her again. Kate lives in Seacove, and my family only goes there for the holidays. The rest of the year Kate and I communicate by text and phone and Skype. It helps, but it’s not the same as being together.

  Kate wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. ‘Beach?’ she said.

  I nodded. I felt all warm and excited as we waved goodbye and set off for the beach. Three whole weeks in Seacove! I knew it was going to be amazing.

  ‘Why did Lily have to go on holidays this week, of all weeks,’ I said, as soon as we were settled in our favourite spot on the beach. ‘I’m dying to see her. When does she get back?’

  ‘Not for another week and a bit,’ said Kate. ‘And even then we probably won’t see much of her. Her mum’s catering business has got really busy, so Lily has to help her most days.’

  ‘So what have you been doing with yourself?’

  She shrugged. ‘Mostly just hanging out with the family. Dad and I go for walks and stuff. Sometimes I stay home and play with Zoe and Simon. It’s not very exciting, but I like it.’

  I smiled to myself as I lay back on the sand. I felt a special responsibility for the whole family, and was glad to see that things were working out OK.

  ‘So it’s all happy-ever-after around here these days?’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, kind of, but …’

  I sat up again quickly. ‘But what?’ I asked. ‘Happy-ever-afters don’t end with buts. What’s wrong, Kate?’

  She smiled a forced kind of smile. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘I’m probably just being stupid.’

  I put my face right up next to hers. ‘Tell me,’ I said. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

  She sighed. ‘You’re not going to give up, are you?’

  I shook my head. ‘Never. You might as well tell me now, before I drag it out of you.’

  ‘It’s Zoe,’ she said.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  ‘Zoe!’ I said. ‘But Zoe is lovely. She’s always been really nice to you. Just tell me what she’s done and I’ll sort her out for you. I’m not afraid of her. I could easily––’

  Kate giggled and I was glad to see that she hadn’t lost her sense of humour in the time we’d been apart.

  ‘Zoe is still lovely,’ she said. ‘That hasn’t changed. She’s the best. She’s smart and funny and kind. She always backs me up when Dad’s being an idiot.’

  I giggled. ‘What is it about dads? Mine’s great, but sometimes he drives me totally crazy.’

  Kate laughed too. ‘Tell me about it,’ she said. ‘Luckily, Zoe always defends me when Dad’s going ballistic about stupid stuff. It’s really cool the way she’s always on my side.’

  ‘That’s great, but I don’t get it. I thought you said there was a problem with Zoe?’

  ‘Well, she loves spending time with Dad and me and Simon, and when Martha’s bones are hurting, and she’s in a bad mood, Zoe is the best at making her come around––’

  ‘I’m still not seeing the problem here.’

  Kate gave a big sigh. ‘Sometimes I think Zoe might be bored. She hasn’t made any friends in Seacove. She never says so exactly, but I can tell that she misses London. She misses her job.’

  ‘That’s kind of normal, though, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah – of course it is. Oh, Eva! I love Zoe and I really want her to be happy. But what if she can’t be happy here with us in Seacove? What if she needs to be in London to be happy?’

  I was still figuring out how to answer that, when she continued.

  ‘And there’s another thing too.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Zoe coming here was always only supposed to be a temporary arrangement, remember? Zoe and Dad only came to help out while Martha was sick – and Martha’s better now. What if they decide to go back to London? What will I do then?’

  I hugged her. ‘Try not to worry,’ I said. ‘It’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.’

  I wasn’t sure of it at all, so I couldn’t meet Kate’s eyes when she smiled back at me.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I’m just being stupid. I’m worrying about nothing. And besides …’

  ‘Besides what?’

  ‘Besides, when you’re around everything always gets better. Now that you’re here, Zoe will see what a totally exciting place Seacove can be. All I’ve got to do is sit back and wait for you to work your magic.’

  ‘So no pressure then?’

  She giggled. ‘No, Eva. No pressure at all.’

  Chapter Two

  Next morning, we were still having breakfast when Kate called over. She said ‘hi’ to Mum and Dad, and gave Joey a huge hug. He pretended to be embarrassed, but I knew he was pleased. He really likes Kate.

  ‘How’s your mum?’ she asked him.

  Joey’s mum, Monica, owns the cottage we stay in. She often has to go to hospital, and that’s why Joey usually comes on holidays with us. He’s really cute and is kind of like the little brother I never had.

  ‘Mum’s OK,’ he said. ‘Her last operation was a big success.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ she said. She stepped forward to give him another hug, but he ducked away. I guess little boys can only cope with the occasional hug.

  Kate turned to me. ‘What do you want to d
o for the day, Eva?’ she asked. ‘We could go back to the beach again, or we could go see Jeremy if you like.’

  Believe it or not, Jeremy’s not a person or a pet – it’s a tree! One that’s very special to Kate. One summer, a developer wanted to chop it down, but, with the help of the locals and some tourists, Kate and I had managed to save it.

  Kate was grinning at me, and I thought back to when I first met her. In the beginning, I thought she was totally weird and when I heard that she actually called a tree by a boy’s name I decided she was completely crazy. That was all a long time ago though. (Now, I couldn’t help thinking that Jeremy was an especially good name for a tree.)

  ‘So make up your mind,’ said Kate, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Beach or Jeremy? The suspense is killing me.’

  Before I could decide what to do though, Mum stepped in.

  ‘Not so fast, Eva,’ she said. ‘Remember you promised Monica that you’d clean out the old shed in the back garden? Since she’s nice enough to let us stay here, the least we can do is help out with some odd jobs while we’re here.’

  I groaned. ‘I know I promised Monica, Mum,’ I said. ‘And I will clean the shed. But do I have to do it right now?’

  Mum folded her arms, a dangerous warning sign. I wondered if it was worth having a row – especially as Mum was sure to win. (It’s easy to win rows when you’ve got all the money and all the power and can do totally mean stuff like banning sweets and confiscating mobile phones.)

  ‘I’ll help you, if you like,’ said Kate suddenly. ‘It’ll be fun.’

  ‘Fun?’ I made a face at her. ‘If cleaning out dirty old sheds is your idea of fun, maybe you need to get out more.’

  Kate made a face back at me. ‘Maybe we’ll find some ancient treasures,’ she said.

  ‘I very much doubt that,’ said Mum, handing me a roll of black rubbish bags. ‘I expect that shed is full of junk. I peeped in last night, and it looks like no one’s stepped inside there for many years. Just pack everything into these bags, and we can leave them out for the bin men to take away.’

  I took the bags and followed Kate out to the back garden. I wasn’t happy to be wasting a precious morning in a stinky old shed.

  ‘Let’s just get this over with as fast as possible,’ I said. ‘And then I can get on with my holiday.’

  I slid back the rusty bolt and pulled the shed door towards me. It opened with a horrible screechy scratchy sound.

  Kate grinned. ‘That’s the ghost of the shed welcoming us,’ she said. ‘If we’re not careful, it will haunt us for the rest of the summer.’

  Even though it was a lovely sunny day, I suddenly felt cold. I don’t like thinking about ghosts and creepy stuff like that.

  The shed was quite small, and it had shelves all along one side. There was a window on the back wall, but it was cracked and dirty and hardly let in any light.

  I stepped inside and picked up a cardboard box, which immediately fell apart in my hands. I jumped as heaps of rusty old nails and screws clattered to the ground and rolled into the dark, cobwebby corners of the shed.

  ‘Brilliant,’ I muttered. ‘A great start.’

  Kate didn’t answer as she was already on her knees filling the first rubbish bag. I gave a big sigh, and then I rolled up my sleeves and began to help her.

  Hours later, Kate and I were almost finished. We’d filled up ten rubbish bags, and apart from an ugly old china vase, we hadn’t found anything worth keeping.

  ‘Here, this is the last thing,’ I said, as I reached into the furthest, darkest corner of the shed to pick up an old biscuit tin that was almost covered by layers of dust and cobwebs.

  ‘Maybe there’s treasure inside that tin,’ said Kate. ‘Maybe it’s a secret stash of gold and silver and diamonds and pearls. Maybe we’re going to be rich!’

  I grinned. ‘If it was treasure, it would belong to Monica – not that it matters. This tin is probably full of useless junk, just like everything else we’ve found in this dump.’

  ‘You’ve got no imagination, Eva,’ said Kate. ‘I bet there’s something amazing inside. Bring it out onto the grass, so we can have a proper look.’

  I did what she said. It was nice to be back in the sunshine again. The two of us sat on the grass and looked at the box for a minute.

  ‘This is so amazing,’ said Kate. ‘It’s like going back in time. I bet no one has seen or touched this box for years and years and years.’

  She was probably right. The corners of the box were all rusty, and the flowers on the lid were dull and faded.

  A cloud came over the sun and I shivered.

  ‘Let’s get this over with so we can go see Jeremy,’ I said.

  Kate held the bottom of the box, while I used both hands to lift the lid off. Flakes of rust blew away in the breeze as the lid came free. Suddenly I couldn’t help feeling a little flutter of excitement. Maybe there was going to be something amazing inside after all.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, disappointed, as I saw the rolled up piece of white material inside. ‘It’s only a dirty old rag.’

  I reached in and took out the fabric. As I did so, something tumbled out of it and onto the ground next to me.

  I picked it up, half afraid that it was going to fall apart in my hands.

  ‘What is it?’ said Kate impatiently.

  It was a grubby old leather-covered book.

  ‘It’s just …’ I said, and then I stopped talking as I turned the book over in my hands, and read what it said on the cover.

  ‘OMG!’ I said. ‘It’s a diary. We’ve found someone’s ancient old diary.’

  Chapter Three

  I was about to open the first page of the diary, when Kate put her hand on mine.

  ‘Stop, Eva,’ she said. ‘That’s a diary. You can’t read it.’

  ‘Why not?’ I asked.

  ‘Because diaries are meant to be private. I’d die if you ever read mine.’

  ‘You’ve got a diary? You never said.’

  Now she went red. ‘Well, I’m glad I never told you, if you think it would be OK to read it.’

  ‘Of course I wouldn’t read your diary,’ I said. ‘You’re my friend, and that would be weird, but this is different. This diary is really, really old. It’s like a historical artifact. And we have no idea who it belongs to. Whoever wrote it must be ancient now – if they’re even still alive.’

  ‘Maybe it belongs to Monica’s granny or granddad.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, it couldn’t be anything to do with Monica. She only bought this house a few years ago.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Kate. ‘I forgot that.’

  ‘Anyway,’ I said, reaching for the cover of the diary again. ‘There’s only one way to find out who owns it.’

  Kate put her hand out again, as if she wanted to stop me, and then she pulled away. She was trying not to show it, but I could see that she was interested too.

  I opened the first page, and gasped. The handwriting was beautiful, all fancy curves and loops. It was dull and faded, but I could still read what it said.

  This is the Diary of Daisy Bridget Lavelle June 6th 1947

  ‘OMG,’ I gasped. ‘It’s totally ancient. It’s like something out of a history book.’

  ‘It’s still someone’s private diary,’ said Kate primly.

  I ignored her. ‘It’s so cool,’ I said. ‘I wonder who Daisy Lavelle was. I wonder what she was like. I wonder if she’s alive. I wonder if she still lives around here.’

  Kate shook her head. ‘There aren’t any Lavelles here. I’ve never even heard the name before.’

  I caught the corner of the page, ready to turn it over. Kate was staring at me, like I was about to commit a terrible crime.

  ‘One page,’ I said. ‘One page and then I’ll stop reading.’

  Kate didn’t reply, so I quickly turned the page and saw more of the same elaborate handwriting. As I read the words aloud, I tried to picture the girl who had written them, so many years before.


  Dear Diary,

  My thirteenth birthday is nearly over. I have had such a lovely day. My friend Rose gave me a beautiful handkerchief, which she embroidered herself. After dinner, little Martha came across the lane with a bunch of wild flowers for me. She is a darling girl. If I had a little sister, I would like one exactly like her.

  ‘OMG,’ said Kate. ‘Little Martha. That must be my granny. I love her to bits, but somehow I can’t imagine her as a sweet little girl.’

  I giggled. ‘Me neither. That’s totally weird.’

  As Kate was distracted by thinking about a sweet young Martha, I turned another page. I was disappointed to see that Daisy’s birthday entry only had a few more words. I read them aloud.

  Mammy and Daddy gave me this diary, which is the nicest thing I have ever in my life owned. I am going to write in it every single night. Good night.

  ‘Happy now?’ asked Kate.

  I shook my head. ‘Not really. It’s kind of disappointing. I don’t think poor old Daisy has much to say for herself.’

  ‘Yeah, well, it’s probably not her fault. I’m guessing thirteen-year-olds in the 1940s had kind of boring lives.’

  ‘That’s for sure,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t sound like Daisy had the most exciting birthday ever, does it? What was your thirteenth birthday like, Kate? I hope it was more exciting than hers.’

  ‘My thirteenth birthday was before Dad and Zoe and Simon came back,’ said Kate. ‘Martha did her best – she bought me a new tracksuit, and she made me a big chocolate cake, but …’

  ‘But what?’ I helped her.

  ‘But it was kind of lonely. Dad forgot to send a card, and that made me feel really, really bad.’

  ‘You poor thing,’ I said, starting to feel sorry that I’d brought the subject up.

  But Kate just grinned. ‘Ancient history,’ she said. ‘What about you, Eva? Tell me about your birthdays.’

  ‘My twelfth birthday was totally amazing,’ I sighed. ‘My friends and I had a pamper day in a big fancy hotel. We went swimming, and had our hair and our nails done. Then we went for pizza and I had the biggest, sparkliest cake I’d ever seen. Everyone said it was the best party they’d ever, ever been to. Only thing is …’