Huda and Me, H. Hayek [book series for 12 year olds TXT] 📗

do it before they left.’ He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his hand, like he had a headache.

‘What does that mean? We can’t call them?’ Kholoud asked the obvious question we were all thinking.

Omar shook his head.

‘What if we used another phone?’ I knew the answer before I’d finished asking.

‘It won’t connect …’ Omar paused, and then to make sure we understood, he finished his sentence. ‘From any phone.’

Huda jumped off the bed. A small blob of jam from the donut had dribbled onto the front of her jumper.

‘There has to be another way to let Mum and Dad know what’s going on!’

Omar narrowed his eyes. Suha and Layla shook their heads.

‘Yeh Huda, you can just jump on a plane and tell Mum and Dad, then.’ Kholoud stood up to leave.

Omar passed the phone to Layla and reminded the twins to put it back exactly where they’d found it. Then he gently opened the door. There was Aunt Amel, with her ear pressed to the door. She stumbled forward a little as it opened. She was cradling baby Raheed, who was fast asleep in her arms.

‘Want to tell Mum and Dad how awful I am, do you?’ Aunt Amel raised her eyebrows. Her voice shook, and her bottom lip quivered.

None of us kids spoke. There was silence except for Huda’s gulp.

‘I have tried to help you be the very best you can be. I have tried to show you that you are capable of reaching the stars.’ Aunt Amel sniffed and looked at the carpet.

Huda stepped forward.

‘You’ve used us so you can have a holiday! You’ve treated us like servants!’

I couldn’t believe my little sister had said that. I couldn’t believe she’d stood up to Aunt Amel.

Aunt Amel snivelled and closed her eyes – almost like she was blocking out what she was hearing.

‘Well, Huda,’ she said after a lengthy pause, ‘since you haven’t shown any appreciation for the time I’ve taken to be here, or for any of the skills and responsibility I’ve tried to instil in you …’

Aunt Amel was thinking. Then she opened her eyes.

‘… you will be no longer be allowed to speak to anyone in this home. Nor they to you. You are the cause of all this nonsense.’

‘I am not!’ Huda exploded. ‘I’ve done everything you’ve told me to!’

Tears tracked down my little sister’s cheeks, but Aunt Amel ignored her. ‘The phone. Give it to me.’

Layla scrambled to give her the phone, and Raheed stirred as Aunt Amel fumbled to reach for it. He opened his eyes and looked at me. Seeing him made me realise just how much I wished I could hold him. And he must have missed me as much as I missed him – because he arched his back and let out a howl. Then he squirmed, twisting to try to wriggle out of Aunt Amel’s arms.

‘Now look – you’ve upset your brother.’

Aunt Amel was only looking at Huda. She snatched the phone from Layla’s hand and tossed Raheed over her shoulder.

‘Little Huda, you need to remember your adab and manners. Your mother raised you better than to speak back to your elders. Now get back to your tasks. All of you.’

Raheed’s wails were growing and growing, and Aunt Amel was almost shrieking now herself, trying to shout above the sound. She glared at my little sister before dashing away down the hallway. We watched Raheed reach for us over her shoulder, his face red and wet. But Aunt Amel disappeared into my parents’ bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

We all just stood there for a moment in the aftermath of Raheed’s screams, stunned and quiet. But we knew Aunt Amel would be back soon, and none of us knew what she’d do next.

‘C’mon, Layla, we have to make those Anzac biscuits before she asks for her next tea,’ Suha whispered to her twin. They walked out of my bedroom.

Kholoud and Omar glanced at Huda, then at me, and followed the twins down the hallway.

Huda alone remained, in the middle of my room, silent. I could see her hands shaking.

‘Meet me outside in ten minutes, Akeal. Please.’

Huda stood on the patio with her arms crossed. Her face was still puffy, but there were no more tears.

She yanked me into some bushes so we couldn’t be seen. Azalea flowers and bits of twig scratched my face as she yanked me down next to her. A sharp branch dug into my back. Bits of leaves caught in her knotted, messy hair.

‘We’re getting out of here, Akeal.’ She’d used my name. Properly. She was serious.

‘Listen, we can’t just—’

‘I have a plan. A good one. I know where the money is, and I know where Dad stashed our passports. I’ve been on the aeroplane websites. I watched a show last year where some kids ran away from home. We can do it.’

She was talking really fast, trying to get all the words and information out. She swatted away a leafy branch that hung between our heads.

I sat there, unable to believe what I was hearing. How did she think she could pull it off?

She nodded like she could read my thoughts and then leaned in even closer towards me. ‘Trust me, Akeal.’

‘Huda, we could get in some serious trouble.’

‘Not if we do it perfectly.’

‘But we’re just kids! No one is going to let us on a plane. All we know about Lebanon is from the cultural projects we had to do in Grade 2! We don’t even know where Mum and Dad are in Lebanon!’

‘Calm down, calm down. Dad wrote the address on the purple notepad and left it on top of the fridge. I heard him tell Aunt Amel. And guess what?’ My sister pulled a torn bit of paper out of her sleeve and giggled. ‘I have it right here!’

I felt my eye twitch, but she didn’t notice.

‘Tell me,’ she went on, ‘do you want to stay here working like a dog for Aunty Pineapple