Read Online No Turning Back by Beverley Naidoo - Free Book Online Page A

ankles. What would Ma say if she could see him now in a smock like hers and if she knew what had happened to him? Turning his shoes upside down, he examined the holes before placing them closeto the electric fire next to his damp bundle of clothes. He was wondering whether to crouch by the fire or sit on the chair when he heard the voices of Mr. Danny and his daughter coming from the shop. The girl’s voice was high and clear.
    “But, Dad, what are you going to do? Police are meant to help children, not harm them!”
    Mr. Danny’s voice was too low to hear properly, but Sipho made out something about a job.
    “Dad, it’s not just a job he needs. He needs somewhere to sleep! Somewhere safe.”
    Just then they were interrupted by someone, and Mr. Danny sounded angry. Moments later the office door swung open. A large woman walked in, frowning. Her wide brown forehead was glistening with sweat under a black beret. It was Maria. She had been friendly to him when he had done odd jobs for Mr. Danny in the front of the shop. When she saw him now, her frown changed to surprise. Reaching for the other green smock behind the door, she greeted Sipho and asked if something was wrong. Before he could say anything, Mr. Danny’s daughter slipped in and took her hand.
    “Come, Maria. If you make us all a cup of tea, Dad will calm down and I’ll tell you everything.”

11. Danny’s Den
    S lowly Sipho chewed the last corner of the thick slice of bread and jam that Maria brought him. He washed it down with a final mouthful of tea. What was it Mr. Danny had said? That he should come and help in the shop if he felt “up to it”? The terrible tiredness had gone, and he was feeling a lot better with his new dry clothes and some food in his stomach. But what about Jabu and the others? Had any of them had his luck? Had Joseph and Matthew found someone to help them get the iglue out of their hair? Perhaps he should go and look for them. Yet how could he help them?
    At that moment Mr. Danny put his head around the door. “Ah, Sipho. That’s good. You’re looking a lot better. You can come and help me now.”
    Sipho followed him out through the shop to the entrance. Mr. Danny’s daughter was taking money at the cash register and she smiled at Sipho as he went past.
    “What I want you to do, Sipho”—Mr. Danny paused showing him two brightly colored T-shirts still in their plastic covering—”is to take these and stand by the corner. You show them to people and tell them ‘Special offer! Fifteen rand! Only at Danny’s Den!’”
    “Yes, sir,” replied Sipho.
    Mr. Danny’s mustache twitched with a sudden chuckle.
    “Perhaps you’d look better without that big smock. Then people can see how nice the new sweatshirt looks on you too!”
    “Yes, sir,” replied Sipho, slipping off the smock and exchanging it for the T-shirt packages Mr. Danny held out for him.
    Sipho placed himself at a spot where the sun shone on him. It was getting warmer, but it wasn’t that warm yet. Holding up a green T-shirt in one hand and a red one in the other, he began to call out, “Special offer!…”
    The sun had passed its high point when Mr. Danny’s daughter came to ask if he wanted something to eat.
    “Thank you, miss!” His voice was getting a little hoarse and he needed a break.
    “My name is Judy,” she said firmly.
    What did she mean, thought Sipho? On the farm he had been taught to call white children“missie” or “baasie.” Even his grandmother used to call them that. But calling Kobus, his playmate, “little master” stuck in his throat, and he had never called him that when they were on their own. It was stupid, but if you didn’t say it the farmer and his wife would say you were getting cheeky. They might even tell your grandmother you must be taught a lesson.
    “Dad says you’ll make a good salesman,” Mr. Danny’s daughter continued as they walked back to the shop. “He reckons we’ve had more customers, even for a