Sophie and the Secret That Felt Wrong

Sophie was drawing a horse on the garden path in chalk. It was an enormous horse. Its tail went all the way to the gate and one of its legs had gone slightly wrong, but she had decided that was fine — it was galloping.

Mum was inside, hanging washing by the window where she could see the path. That was the deal on chalk days.

An older boy stopped at the gate. Sophie knew his face the way you know faces on your street — she had seen him, but she had never really talked to him.

"Nice horse," he said. Then: "Hey. Do you want to see something cool? I've got it at my house. It's proper amazing."

Sophie sat back on her heels. "What is it?"

"You have to come and see." He glanced at the window. "But don't tell anyone. Not your mum. It's a secret, okay? Just us."

And there it was.

Sophie's tummy went tight. Not wobbly this time — tight, the way it goes when you are holding something you know you are about to drop.

Because don't tell anyone was on the list. It was actually the very first thing on the list, the one Mum said out loud most often.

Sophie did not have to be brave and clever and quick all at once. She only had to say the sentence she had practised, the one that works in almost every situation a child can be in.

"I need to ask my mum first."

"It's not a big deal," said the boy. "It's just a thing. Don't be weird about it."

Sophie stood up and brushed the chalk off her knees. "I need to ask my mum first," she said again, exactly the same, because you are allowed to say the same sentence as many times as you like.

Then she went inside.

Sophie told Mum everything, standing in the kitchen with chalk on her hands. All of it, including the bit where the boy said she was being weird, which was the bit she had been least sure about saying.

Mum sat down at the table so they were the same height.

"Can I tell you the difference between a surprise and a secret?" she said. "Because they are not the same thing at all, and grown-ups don't explain it nearly often enough."

"A surprise is something everybody finds out in the end, and when they do, they're happy. Dad's birthday present is a surprise. It makes your tummy fizzy and it has an ending."

"A secret you're told to keep forever — especially one you have to keep from me — makes your tummy tight instead of fizzy. That kind has no ending. And that kind is always, always one to tell."

"Even if I promised?" said Sophie.

"Even if you promised. A promise like that isn't a real promise. Nobody is allowed to make you keep one."

Mum spoke to the boy's parents later, in a calm and ordinary sort of way, and it turned out to be a small thing rather than a big one. But Sophie noticed that Mum thanked her twice — once in the kitchen and once at bedtime.

"Fizzy or tight," Sophie said sleepily, into the dark.

"Fizzy or tight," said Mum. "That's the whole test."