The Secret Hen House Theatre Read Online Free Page A

was also 8M’s tutor room and, since the sky was hurling sheets of rain against the windows, most of 8M were in there. They huddled in groups around the tables, chatting and texting.
    Hannah did a quick scan of the room.
    No. He wasn’t there. He must be off sick today.
    Was she relieved?
    Or disappointed?
    It was so hard to tell.
    There was a pile of 7B’s maths books already on the homework shelf in the corner. Lottie sat down at the empty table in front of the shelf and pulled her maths book out of her bag. She opened it to reveal a page of work so neat that it deserved to be blown up to poster size and displayed to the world right there and then.
    Hannah knew as certainly as she knew her own name that every single answer was right. Lottie had never in her whole life got a maths question wrong.
    Hannah opened her own book and wrote yesterday’s date at the top of a clean page. She started to copy the first question.
    The classroom door swung open and cracked against the wall. Every head turned.
    Hannah looked up and her stomach did a back flip.
    Into the room sauntered Jack Adamson. And, if it were possible, he looked even more gorgeous than usual. His wavy hair was all messed up and he had a cheeky grin on his face.
    “Better late than never,” grunted Danny, looking up from his phone.
    “Yeah, well,” said Jack, rearranging his expression into one of deep sorrow. “It’s just, I was a bit upset. Family tragedy.”
    Vishali Patel was sitting at the table next to Hannah and Lottie. Her eyes widened in concern. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?”
    Jack gave a heavy sigh and plonked himself down in the chair beside Vishali’s. He looked deeply into her eyes. Something stabbed at Hannah’s chest.
    “It’s my goldfish,” said Jack sadly. “He got run over.”
    The room erupted into giggles. Except for Lottie, who raised her eyes to heaven. Hannah looked down at her feet so Lottie couldn’t see her smiling.
    Vishali smacked Jack on the shoulder. “You pig.You really had me going.”
    “Aw, sorry, Vish. Hey, you couldn’t give us a lend of the geography homework, could you? I was going to do it but my mum’s on a life support machine and I had to go and put another 50p in the slot.”
    Vishali giggled. “Oh, go on then.” She fished in her bag.
    “Thanks, Vish, you’re a lifesaver.” He winked at her. Hannah felt that stab in her chest again.
    “Loser,” muttered Lottie.
    Jack looked up and caught Hannah’s eye. Hannah felt herself going red. Jack grinned at her.
    “Saw you all pedalling to school this morning, Roberts.”
    Danny snorted. “What, in that skip they call a car?”
    Jack turned to his friend. “Don’t be mean, Dan. Her dad built that car himself. It’s all made from bits that fell off his tractors. One day he’s going to put an engine in it, then they won’t have to pedal any more.”
    Hannah put her head down to hide her smile.
    “You’re not funny, Jack,” said Lottie.
    “Shame you missed the poetry competition,” said Danny.
    “Yeah, I was really upset about that.”
    “No, really. It was hilarious. She did this poem all about mud and rotting lamb corpses. The judge nearly threw up.”
    Jack nodded respectfully at Hannah. “I like your style, Roberts. There’s not enough poems about deadanimals in the world, that’s what I say.”
    Hannah was a mass of confusion. She bent right down over her maths book so that her hair curtained her face.
    “It was really good actually,” said Lottie. “I bet you couldn’t write a poem to save your life. You probably can’t even write.”
    “As it happens,” said Jack, “I wrote a poem this very morning. It was inspired by the tragic death of my only goldfish.”
    The class giggled again.
    “Huh,” said Lottie. “Sure you did.”
    “Want to hear it?”
    “No,” said Lottie.
    “Yes,” said 8M.
    Jack took out his English book, stood up and looked around the class expectantly. They all looked back at him. When Jack performed,