My Mum Tracy Beaker Read online

  ‘It’s better than a bridesmaid’s costume,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ She looked at me as if I was mad. ‘I’d give anything to be a bridesmaid! Ava and I were supposed to be bridesmaids at my auntie’s wedding. It was in the winter so we had crimson velvet dresses, and they were the most beautiful dresses ever.’

  ‘So you’ve been a bridesmaid then?’

  ‘No, because on the wedding day I woke up with a funny tummy. I didn’t say anything, and I ate a big breakfast to keep me going till the wedding breakfast, which is actually a wedding lunch – isn’t that weird? Anyway, Mum had just got us ready at this hotel when I started to feel really bad, and then I was sick all down my bridesmaid’s dress. You can’t get stains out of red velvet. It smelled too much anyway. So I had to stay in the hotel room with Dad while Mum took Ava to the wedding, and she got to be the bridesmaid without me. Everyone said she looked beautiful. She had lots of fancy ice cream and banoffee pie and wedding cake at the reception too.’ Alice sighed. Then she remembered what had started her reminiscing. ‘So why on earth don’t you like bridesmaids’ costumes?’

  ‘My mum wants me to wear one at her wedding,’ I said, in such a tiny voice that Alice had to strain to hear me.

  ‘Your mum’s getting married?’ she said, puzzled. ‘What, you mean to your dad?’

  ‘No, she doesn’t like him much any more. She’s marrying this horrible man who owns a gym, Sean Godfrey.’

  ‘My mum goes to a gym,’ said Alice. ‘She wants a flat tummy. It looks flat enough to me.’

  ‘Alice, I just said my mum’s getting married! You might be a bit sympathetic,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t you like your new dad then?’

  ‘He won’t be my dad!’ I said furiously.

  ‘All right, don’t get so cross!’ said Alice. ‘I’d have thought you’d like someone to give you piggybacks and presents and take you to the pantomime like my dad does.’

  ‘I don’t want him to do that stuff,’ I said. ‘I think he’s horrible. And I think my mum’s horrible for getting together with him.’

  As soon as I said it I felt dizzy. I’d been cross with Mum heaps of times, but I’d never said she was horrible before.

  ‘Jess? Are you all right?’

  ‘I think I might be going to faint,’ I said. ‘I very nearly fainted at school because Tyrone had a nosebleed.’

  ‘You can’t faint if you’re already lying down,’ said Alice. ‘I don’t think so anyway. Jess, do you really think your mum’s horrible?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, because Mum was spoiling everything.

  When Marina came home I heard Mum talking to her, obviously telling her about Sean Godfrey. Marina was exclaiming delightedly. Perhaps Mum was asking her to be the matron of honour at her wedding, with Ava and Alice as bridesmaids.

  ‘As if I care,’ I muttered.

  I was dreading going home because I was sure Mum would start going on about Sean Godfrey again, but she didn’t even mention him. She talked about Ava and Alice and The Pied Piper. She asked me if Miss Oliver was going to put on an end-of-year play. I said she certainly hadn’t mentioned it, so Mum said I should tell her it would be a good idea.

  ‘You can’t tell teachers stuff like that,’ I said.

  ‘I did when I was at school,’ said Mum. ‘And my teacher put on A Christmas Carol and I got to be Scrooge, the star part. I was a big success. I want you to star in something, Jess.’

  ‘I don’t want to be in a play!’

  ‘Don’t be daft, you’d be brilliant.’

  ‘No I wouldn’t. Why can’t you see I’m not a bit like you? I’m like me,’ I said fiercely.

  I stomped off to my room. I didn’t want to cosy up on the sofa with Mum. I wanted to be by myself.

  I sat up in bed reading, but it was a sad book about a Victorian girl who was desperate to find her real mother. I wasn’t in the right mood for it. I tried another of my favourites, about a girl whose dad was so scary she had to run away with her mum, but then her mum started to get ill. I didn’t feel like reading that one either. The words kept going blurry anyway.

  I lay down in the dark and clutched my toy dog, Woofer. He wasn’t very comforting. I whistled for Wolfie and Faithful and Pom-Pom and Snapchat, and they jumped up on the bed beside me, but they wouldn’t settle down. They had their ears pricked, listening for Mum.

  I heard her getting ready for bed. She paused outside my bedroom door. ‘Can I come in, Jess?’ she called.

  I stayed quiet.

  ‘Are you asleep?’

  I pressed my lips together.

  Mum waited. I waited too.

  ‘Night night,’ she said. ‘Love you.’

  I still didn’t say a word. I’d never, ever gone to sleep without saying goodnight.

  I couldn’t sleep. Mum couldn’t sleep either. I heard her getting up to make herself a cup of tea. I wondered about asking for one too because my throat felt dry and scratchy. Then I heard Mum murmuring and realized she was on the phone, even though it was quite late. I heard her say the word Sean.

  I imagined her telling him all about me. I burned all over. Well, I certainly didn’t want a cup of tea with her now.

  After a long while she pattered back to bed. I heard her punching her pillow, then tossing and turning. Then her bedsprings creaked and there were thumps on the floorboards. My door burst open. She came right over to my bed.

  ‘Jess?’ she whispered. ‘Are you awake?’

  She climbed into bed with me and cuddled me close. I tried very hard to stay stiff and still, but I couldn’t help snuggling up, and then I started crying.

  ‘Don’t, Jess! You’ll make me start crying too,’ said Mum.

  ‘You never, ever cry!’

  ‘I feel like it now,’ she said. ‘I’m very unhappy.’

  ‘Well, it’s your own fault.’

  ‘I know. It’s all gone wrong. I thought you’d be thrilled about Sean and me and living in a proper home and not having to worry about money any more. Cam said I was daft blurting it all out like that and it was no wonder you were in a huff,’ Mum wailed.

  ‘Cam?’

  ‘I phoned her about an hour ago because I was so worried,’ said Mum. ‘I forgot it was so late. I woke her up. She was a bit irritated at first. She said I was thoughtless. Do you think I am, Jess?’

  ‘Yes!’ I said, because I was still cross with her.

  ‘Do you really hate Sean?’

  ‘I don’t hate him, but I don’t like him much. And I can’t understand why you do. You didn’t at first. The first time you met him you said he looked like an idiot,’ I said.

  ‘I didn’t! Well, I suppose I might have done, but I changed my mind. You do that too. You thought Tyrone was a total muppet, and now you say you’re mates,’ said Mum.

  ‘Yes, but I’m not going to marry him and muck everything up.’

  ‘Look, Jess, nothing’s going to be mucked up, I promise. It’ll be better. We’ll be just like a normal family,’ said Mum. ‘It’s what I’ve always wanted for you.’

  ‘No, it’s what you’ve always wanted for you,’ I said. ‘It’s not what I want.’

  ‘So what do you want?’ Mum asked. She sat up and switched on my unicorn lamp. She looked at me seriously, and I blinked back at her in the sudden bright light. ‘You surely don’t want me to break it off with Sean?’

  Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes!

  But somehow I couldn’t say it out loud.

  SEAN GODFREY CAME to take Mum and me out for Sunday lunch. He was twenty minutes late.

  ‘Well, this is rubbish,’ said Mum. ‘What’s he playing at, eh?’

  ‘Don’t ask me,’ I said.

  Mum went to the window for the twentieth time and peered down down down to the parking bays far below. ‘Nope. Still no sign of him. How dare he mess us about like this! And he hasn’t even texted!’ She checked her phone yet again.

  ‘It’s a bit rude, isn’t it, Mum?’ I tried to look annoyed t
oo, but inside I was fizzing over with happiness. Mum can’t stand people being late, and she goes nuts if they completely fail to turn up. Cam says it’s because at the Dumping Ground she used to spend most of her weekends waiting at the window for her mum to come.

  It looked as if Sean Godfrey had blown it. There would be a big row and Mum would break it off, and then it would all be his fault, not mine. Mum would get over him in two minutes tops, and then we’d be back to normal. I wanted to whirl around our flat whooping with joy.

  But just then Mum jumped, actually banging her head against the window. ‘There he is! Look, see – the red Porsche SUV! He couldn’t be more flash, eh? Look at all the kids running and gawping!’

  I came and peered too, my heart sinking. He seemed so big, even way down on the ground where everyone looked like doll’s-house dolls. He was holding a big bunch of flowers too. How cheesy.

  We watched him disappear out of sight as he hurried towards the lifts. Then, almost immediately, he bobbed back into sight again.

  ‘What?’ said Mum. ‘Has he changed his mind?’

  ‘Maybe!’ I said, crossing my fingers.

  But he was striding round to the side of Marlborough Tower.

  ‘Uh-oh! I guess the lifts have broken down again,’ said Mum. ‘He’ll be knackered by the time he makes it all the way up here.’

  ‘Don’t be disappointed if he gives up halfway,’ I said, not quite giving up hope.

  But within minutes there was a knock at our door. There he was, grinning sheepishly behind the enormous bunch of flowers, barely out of breath.

  ‘Bit of a climb, that,’ he said. ‘Sorry I’m late, babe.’

  ‘Don’t call me babe,’ said Mum huffily.

  Sean Godfrey tried to kiss her but she turned her head away. ‘For goodness’ sake, you’re half an hour late!’

  ‘Well, I had to hunt down some flowers for you, didn’t I? The proper florist was shut. And look what I got you, kid!’ He pulled a box of chocolates out from under his armpit, inside his jacket.

  The chocolates were protected by their gold box and he didn’t seem sweaty, but I still recoiled in disgust. They were the expensive kind – plain chocolate with weird fancy fillings.

  Mum was still glaring, but she gave me a nudge. ‘Say thank you for the lovely chocolates, Jess!’

  ‘Thank you for the lovely chocolates, Mr Godfrey,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Hey, hey, what’s with this Mr Godfrey business? I’m Sean!’ he said, looking hurt.

  ‘Yes, well, she’s being polite,’ said Mum. ‘Unlike you. I bet it wasn’t the flowers that made you so late! You went out with your mates after the match, didn’t you!’

  ‘Don’t yell at me, Trace! I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ he said.

  ‘No wonder! How much did you drink last night, eh?’

  Sean Godfrey looked at me and winked. ‘She’s really fierce, your mum, isn’t she?’

  ‘No she’s not,’ I said, which was the biggest fib I’ve ever told in my life – but as if I’d ever side with Sean Godfrey against Mum.

  He pulled a silly face at me – and I pulled one back.

  ‘Stop it, you two,’ Mum snapped. ‘And you’re both total amateurs when it comes to face-pulling anyway.’

  She made her point by pulling the most hideous face ever, crossing her eyes and wrinkling up her nose and letting her tongue loll.

  ‘Mum!’ I squealed. I’ve always hated her pulling faces. When I was little I was scared that my old smiley mum would never come back. I think I was feeling that again now because my real mum would never, ever go out with a guy like Sean Godfrey.

  ‘Tracy!’ he yelled, put off by the face too. ‘Put your face straight. You’re frightening the kid. And me. I’ll go off you sharpish if I have to look at that ugly mug another second.’

  ‘Wha you mea? Fis is my fay,’ said Mum, her voice scarily distorted because her tongue was in the wrong place.

  ‘Please stop it, Mum,’ I whined, though I was starting to hope that if she carried on like that Sean Godfrey might really go off her.

  He just started laughing. ‘Don’t worry, Jess, I’ll sort your mum out,’ he said. ‘We’ll tickle her, eh?’

  I snorted. Mum isn’t the slightest bit ticklish. When we’re sprawled on the sofa I tickle her feet and she doesn’t even wriggle. But Sean Godfrey started tickling her neck, and she squirmed and scrunched up – and suddenly her face was back to normal and she was shouting at him. But she was laughing too. He was laughing back. They were getting all lovey-dovey.

  I went and sat on the old rickety chair in the corner.

  ‘What’s up, Jess? Come on, put your coat on. What do you fancy for lunch, eh? Sean’s taking us to The Chestnut,’ said Mum. ‘Leave off, now, Sean. No more tickling.’

  ‘What’s The Chestnut? A pub?’ I said. ‘I’m not allowed in pubs.’ Were they going to make me stay outside on one of those wooden benches with a packet of crisps?

  ‘Don’t be daft. It’s got a proper restaurant – it’s a gourmet pub, with a fantastic menu. I looked it up online. It does all kinds of fancy stuff, but there’s a special kids’ menu, and they do macaroni cheese, your favourite,’ said Mum.

  ‘I don’t want any lunch actually. I feel a bit sick,’ I said.

  Mum glared at me. ‘Let’s go and find your jacket, Jess,’ she said, sounding fierce. She took my hand, pulled me into my bedroom and pushed me down on my bed. ‘Now listen to me,’ she hissed, her face very close to mine. ‘Don’t act like a spoiled brat. You’re being a right pain. Sean will think you’re always like this. He’s trying ever so hard, Jess. Just stop this playacting and perk up, OK?’

  ‘I really do feel sick. I truly don’t want any lunch,’ I insisted.

  ‘Don’t spoil it all, Jess, please,’ Mum begged.

  ‘I’m not spoiling anything,’ I said. ‘Look, you and him go out to this Chestnut place. I’ll be fine here. I’ll just lie down and have a sleep.’

  ‘As if I’d ever leave you on your own!’

  ‘Well, take me to Cam’s then. She’ll look after me.’

  ‘Jess! You’re coming out with us. Put your coat on. End of,’ said Mum.

  So I had to go. I have to admit I felt a little bit thrilled when I got into Sean Godfrey’s fancy car, and all the kids out playing gawped enviously. I wished Tyrone was there, but he lived in Devonshire Tower, and kids from there hardly ever hung out with us Marlborough lot.

  Mum obviously loved showing off the car – and Sean Godfrey was causing quite a stir. Some of the older boys even asked for a selfie. And their dads. Even a couple of mums.

  He loved it too – making a fuss of the kids, telling the guys about the hat-trick he’d scored at some boring football match, and chatting up the mums. That made Mum a bit restless.

  ‘Are we going for this meal or not?’ she asked.

  ‘Sorry, ladies, gotta go. Taking the family out,’ he said, jumping into the car.

  I’m not his family. I hated him saying that. I looked at Mum. She was looking so different. She looked … pretty. I couldn’t work out if it was because she was wearing more make-up than usual, or because she was wearing a new red dress. She didn’t have any money for a new dress. I had a sinking feeling that Sean Godfrey had bought it for her.

  Then I realized it wasn’t the make-up or the dress. It was her expression. She looked so happy. I suddenly felt helpless. She loved me more than anyone – probably ten times more than Sean Godfrey – but I’d never made her look like that.

  It didn’t make me like Sean Godfrey. It made me dislike him more than ever. Though after that I tried not to spoil her day. I still felt sick. In fact, sitting in the back of Sean Godfrey’s car, whizzing along at about a hundred miles an hour (well, it felt like it), made me feel dizzy, and I had to sit very still with my eyes closed to stop myself heaving.

  ‘Jess? Are you all right, love?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Just a bit sleepy,’ I murmured.

  ‘She’s not going to th
row up, is she?’ Sean Godfrey asked anxiously.

  ‘She’s fine,’ said Mum, but she sounded anxious too.

  I started to work out a contingency plan. When I was little I was sick in my dad’s car, and it still smelled a bit the next time he came to collect me. Now I saw a copy of Glossip on the back seat. I opened it up on my lap, thinking I could always be sick into it. Then I realized that I was staring at a photo of Sean Godfrey on the ‘Who’s at the Party?’ page. Of course, he was wearing a ridiculous suit – silver grey and terribly tight – with a midnight-blue shirt. He was clinking glasses with Sandy Forthright, that actress who used to be in EastEnders. I was just a tiny bit impressed that Sean Godfrey went to posh parties and was friends with a famous TV star – but then the sick feeling came back worse than ever, and I was in danger of spattering them both.

  The car turned sharp right into the pub car park. The second we stopped I got out and stood with my hand over my mouth.

  ‘Oh, you poor love,’ said Mum. ‘Here, lean on me. Breathe deeply, in and out, come on. You really do feel poorly, don’t you? Look at her, Sean, she’s white as a sheet.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s just hungry,’ said Sean Godfrey.

  Mum snorted irritably, and I felt just a little better. Breathing deeply helped. The sick feeling lessened, and then floated right away. I felt OK again. I suddenly felt ravenously hungry. It was very annoying – I hated Sean Godfrey being right. Still, I was now quite keen to go into the pub.

  It wasn’t a bit like the Duke’s Arms down the road from us. Mum didn’t let me go there, but I’d peered inside. It was very dark, which was just as well because the chairs were shabby and the carpet stained. There was a television screen taking up one whole wall, and the guys watched all the big matches. It was always very noisy. Whenever there was no football they played pop music. Their menu was brief and to the point: fish and chips and mushy peas; pie, beans and chips; sausage and mash and onion gravy.