My Mum Tracy Beaker

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My Mum Tracy Beaker Page 8

by Jacqueline Wilson

Shake.

  ‘You know Little Noddy? Well, you’ve turned into Little Shaky,’ said Cam.

  I laughed and felt a bit better. ‘He’s OK, I suppose, though I think he looks stupid. His suits! And he’s got this flash red car. And a great big mansion. I don’t want to live there, even though he’s got a swimming pool. I don’t have to live there, do I, Cam?’

  ‘Well, I think your mum’s got her heart set on it. And she’s got her heart set on him too.’

  ‘Do you like him?’ I asked.

  ‘Well. I don’t really know him that well. He was a bit of a lout when he was a kid, but I don’t think that was necessarily his fault. He’s very smooth and Jack the Lad now. He does seem very, very fond of your mum, and I suppose that’s all that matters,’ said Cam. ‘And she seems very, very fond of him.’

  ‘Mm,’ I said.

  ‘Is that why you don’t like him?’ Cam asked.

  ‘Maybe,’ I said, looking down at my knees.

  ‘Come here,’ said Cam, and she put her arm round me and pulled me close. ‘You’ll always come first with your mum. She loves you with all the love in the world.’

  ‘Then why aren’t I enough? Why does she want Sean Godfrey too?’ I mumbled against her shirt.

  ‘She wants to be a family.’

  ‘But we are one,’ I wailed.

  ‘I know, but she wants a bloke too.’

  ‘Why? You don’t want a bloke, do you, Cam?’

  ‘No,’ said Cam, laughing. ‘I’ve never really fancied blokes.’

  ‘Don’t you fancy anyone?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, give it a rest, Jess. Liz and Jane keep quizzing me, wanting me to hook up with someone. But I’m fine just the way I am,’ said Cam.

  ‘Me too,’ I said. ‘Cam, if I really can’t bear living with Sean Godfrey, could I come and live with you and all your girls?’

  ‘Yes, of course you can. Though I’m not sure what your mum would say!’

  ‘She wants me to be her bridesmaid, but I don’t want to wear a frilly dress and look daft,’ I said.

  ‘She wants me to walk her down the aisle, and I’ll look daft no matter what I wear,’ said Cam. ‘I’m the one who gives the bride away.’

  ‘Well, that’s easy-peasy. Don’t give Mum away. Keep her just for us,’ I said firmly.

  Cam laughed and ruffled my hair. I squirmed.

  ‘Yeah, your mum’s always hated me doing that too!’ she said. ‘But you’ve both got such lovely bouncy, wild, curly hair I can’t help it. Poodle hair.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Woof woof,’ I said.

  ‘Hey, I’ve just thought of something!’ Cam said excitedly. ‘If you and your mum go and live with Sean Godfrey you’ll be able to have a dog at last!’

  ‘Really? Like, an actual poodle?’

  ‘Whatever breed you like. Or you might prefer a mixture. I know where we’ll go! Let’s check out Battersea Dogs and Cats Home! They have heaps of rescue dogs looking for a home.’

  ‘Oh, let’s!’

  We went through the park. I kept pulling on Cam’s hand to make her go faster. By the time we got there we were both out of breath. Then we walked round all the kennels, going very slowly now, so I could talk to every dog. There were great big huskies and weeny little chihuahuas and all sizes of dog in between. Some were so friendly they came rushing up to the bars and tried to lick us. Others were anxious and barked a lot. A few seemed sad and lay on their beds looking mournful. I wanted each and every one, especially the sad sort.

  ‘Do you think I could have two?’ I asked Cam. ‘Or maybe even three? Sean Godfrey’s got lots of spare rooms. They could have a room each!’

  ‘I think you’d better start off with one,’ she said.

  ‘But I can’t choose. Hey, Cam, when you first went to Mum’s children’s home, did you find it hard to choose which child you wanted?’

  ‘I wasn’t looking for anyone. I was just there to write an article.’

  ‘But you chose Mum anyway,’ I said.

  ‘No, she chose me!’ said Cam.

  ‘And did you take her home straight away?’

  ‘I had to have a very careful think about it. And so did all her care workers. You can’t just make a snap decision over something as important as that,’ said Cam.

  After we’d been round twice – and enjoyed a detour to the cattery – I knew exactly which dog I wanted. He wasn’t very big, he wasn’t very small, he was exactly the right size. He was a beautiful black terrier and his fur was almost as curly as my hair. He didn’t rush over to lick me, but he didn’t bark at me either. He lay on his bed with a cuddly toy and a rubber bone, looking very sweet but just a little bit sad.

  Outside his kennel was a sign with his name on. Alfie.

  ‘Alfie!’ I called softly, so as not to frighten him. ‘Hey, Alfie!’

  He looked up at me with his big brown eyes. It was just as if he’d recognized me. He jumped up and came trotting over.

  ‘Oh, Cam, look! He likes me! Oh, please please please can I have Alfie?’

  It wasn’t as simple as that. It was just like Cam fostering Mum. For a start the Battersea people wanted to meet Mum and talk it over with her too. And Sean Godfrey, because it was his house.

  ‘But it’s not going to be his dog!’ I whispered to Cam.

  ‘No, Alfie will be your dog,’ she said, but she was looking anxious. ‘Oh dear, we should have talked it over with them first. I should know better.’

  ‘So we can’t take Alfie right away, even though he wants to come with me?’ I asked.

  ‘Not just yet,’ said Cam.

  ‘But what if someone else comes along and gets him first?’ I wailed.

  The Battersea lady said they would reserve Alfie for me, so long as Mum and Sean Godfrey and I came back soon.

  The moment Mum came to pick me up from Cam’s that evening I said, ‘Are you going to see Sean Godfrey tomorrow?’

  ‘Why are we using surnames, Jessica Bluebell Camilla Beaker?’ Mum asked.

  ‘He is coming round though, isn’t he? It’s Sunday. Doesn’t he want to take us to that Chestnut place again?’

  ‘Well, I was thinking we might have a Sunday together, just you and me,’ said Mum.

  ‘Oh!’ I gave such a cry of despair that she gazed at me in astonishment.

  ‘You want us to see Sean?’

  ‘We have to take him to Battersea tomorrow!’ I insisted.

  ‘It’s my fault, Tracy,’ said Cam, looking shame-faced. ‘I took Jess to the Dogs and Cats Home.’

  ‘What? Oh, I see! Well, that’s actually quite a good idea. Great idea, in fact. When we move in with Sean we could get a dog. We could have a cat too. Sean’s got so much space. Maybe you could have a pony, Jess!’ said Mum. ‘Or a donkey. I love donkeys. And what are those shaggy things with goofy faces? Alpacas! Maybe we could have a couple of them as well!’

  ‘I don’t want any alpacas or a donkey or a pony or a cat. I just want my dog, Alfie!’ I said.

  ‘Alfie does seem a lovely little chap,’ said Cam.

  ‘But we have to go and get him tomorrow or someone else will choose him,’ I said urgently.

  ‘Well, we’re not moving in with Sean right away. We’ve got to plan it all out. But as soon as we’re settled I promise we’ll go to Battersea and get this Alfie – or we’ll find another dog just as special, or even better,’ said Mum.

  ‘Mum!’ I was shocked. ‘How could you of all people say that! Remember when Cam went to visit the Dumping Ground and you wanted her to foster you? What would you have done if she said she had to plan it all out first? What if someone horrible came along and fostered you in the meantime? Then Cam would have fostered someone else – Justine Littlewood, for instance!’

  Mum had told me heaps about Justine Littlewood – another girl at the children’s home. She was her worst enemy ever. She took Mum’s best friend away and they ganged up on Mum. She always sounded like the meanest girl in the world.

  Mum looked at me. ‘How come y
ou’ve got so good at arguing?’

  ‘It’s because I take after you,’ I said.

  ‘OK, OK. We’ll go and see Alfie tomorrow.’

  I couldn’t sleep properly for thinking about him. I was planning it all out too. My very own dog! I’d love him so much. I’d take him for a long walk every day – two walks – and I’d play ball with him and teach him tricks. Maybe he’d be really clever and we could work up a little act together, but if he was too shy I wouldn’t force him to show off in front of anyone. I’d give him treats, but not too many because I didn’t want him to get fat. We’d have big cuddles every day, and I’d let him sleep on the end of my bed so he would never feel lonely.

  Alice would think me so lucky! She and Ava had wanted a dog for ages too, but Marina wasn’t keen on the idea. I’d let them both play with Alfie – so long as Ava wasn’t too bossy.

  Cam’s girls would be dead jealous as well. I’d take Alfie with me whenever we went to visit. Alfie would play with the girls – so long as they weren’t too rough. He’d make a big fuss of Cam herself because we’d never have got together if she hadn’t taken me to Battersea Dogs and Cats Home.

  I was scared Mum might have changed her mind during the night. I slid into her bed ever so early. She put her arms round me, and then almost immediately went back to sleep.

  ‘No, Mum, wake up! Promise I can still go and fetch Alfie today? Promise promise promise?’

  Mum opened one eye and squinted at her alarm clock. ‘It’s practically the middle of the night! Go back to sleep!’

  ‘Not till you promise we can get Alfie,’ I bargained.

  ‘All right, I promise, if you let me go back to sleep for a bit,’ Mum said.

  ‘Hang on a minute! Let me record you saying it on your phone.’ I reached out and scrabbled around in her bag.

  I got it out and saw that there was already a message from Sean Godfrey. I couldn’t help looking at it. I wish I hadn’t. It was sickeningly lovey-dovey.

  ‘Leave my phone alone!’ Mum mumbled. ‘I promised you could fetch Alfie.’

  ‘Today?’

  ‘If you keep on, I’m going to throw you out the window,’ said Mum. ‘When have you ever known me to break a promise?’

  I thought about it. I couldn’t think of a single time.

  ‘You’ve never broken a promise!’ I said. ‘You’re the best mum ever.’

  But she’d already gone back to sleep.

  I WASN’T A bit tired myself, even though I’d been wide awake most of the night. For a while I lay beside Mum, planning more things I was going to do with Alfie. Then I got a bit peckish and went into the kitchen to scoop a handful of cornflakes out of the packet. That gave me a great idea. I’d make us breakfast in bed.

  I hadn’t made Mum breakfast in bed since the time I forgot about the toast and the smoke made the fire alarm go off. Luckily, when she’d got over the shock, she just thought it was funny. The time before that I tripped carrying the tray and the orange juice went all over Mum’s cream rug. She didn’t find that funny at all because the stain wouldn’t come out. And when I was really little and not allowed to boil a kettle, I’d dunked a teabag in stone-cold water, hoping that Mum would drink it anyway. And she did, though it must have tasted revolting.

  This time I was going to make her a breakfast fit for a queen. I got out our best tray with the two cats on it.

  ‘Watch out!’ I said. ‘Better run fast when you see my dog Alfie coming. I haven’t trained him yet.’

  We had little blue cats on our nicest mugs too.

  ‘I’m going to have to buy some dog mugs,’ I told them as I carefully poured boiling water onto the teabags and added milk without a single splash.

  I spread the golden toast with butter and honey, and poured a portion of cornflakes in two bowls, not adding milk till the last moment so they wouldn’t go soggy.

  We had orange juice in the fridge, but I decided that might be too much of a risk. I made the tray look pretty by snipping a rose from Sean Godfrey’s bunch and putting it in an egg cup. Then I carried the tray into Mum’s bedroom, step by cautious step.

  ‘Breakfast is served, Your Majesty!’ I said.

  You’re expecting me to trip at the last minute and spill everything all over the bed, aren’t you? But I didn’t! I hung onto the tray until Mum had sat up, and then I put it carefully on her lap.

  ‘Wow, Jess! You’re a little star,’ she said.

  ‘Sean Godfrey is coming, isn’t he? You did message him last night?’

  ‘Sean! And you know I did.’

  ‘And what if he’s late like last Sunday?’

  ‘He won’t be. And stop fussing – Battersea Dogs and Cats Home doesn’t even open until ten thirty today, I checked,’ said Mum. ‘Come on, jump into bed with me and share this lovely breakfast.’

  So we ate it together and then had a cuddle. I had a sudden thought and slid down under the covers.

  ‘Jess? What are you doing? Playing at being a bunny in a burrow? Remember, that was one of your favourite games when you were really little,’ said Mum. She tried to pull me up. ‘What is it?’

  ‘We’ll never be able to have cuddles like this when we live with Sean Godfrey,’ I said.

  ‘Of course we can have our cuddles. Most days Sean gets up at some unearthly time like half five so he can go and train with a few other obsessives. We’ll have a couple of hours’ snoozy time cuddled up together, you and me. Though maybe your Alfie will need to go out for a wee at the crack of dawn!’ said Mum. ‘He’s going to be totally your responsibility, OK?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I said. ‘Exactly how early do dogs need to get up then?’

  We spent the next half-hour looking up how to care for a rescue dog on Mum’s phone.

  ‘Hm. I’m not sure about all this weeing and what-have-you. Sean’s so houseproud. He won’t want his carpets messed up,’ said Mum.

  ‘I’m sure Alfie’s trained. He’s not a little puppy. And if he’s not, it’ll only take a couple of days to teach him to ask to go out,’ I said.

  ‘It took you much longer than a couple of days,’ said Mum. ‘And even if he is trained, he’ll be feeling stressed, and that can have a disastrous effect on the bladder. You know Weedy Peter – the boy at the children’s home with the same birthday as me – when he first arrived there he was always wetting his bed.’

  ‘Did you ever wet the bed, Mum?’ I asked.

  ‘No I did not, cheeky! Come on, you’d better have first bath. Hey, we can have a bathroom each at Sean’s – imagine!’ Mum stretched luxuriously. ‘I can’t believe we’re actually going to be rich! You’ll be able to have a beautiful bedroom like Alice’s, and lovely clothes, and you can have all the lessons they have, like ballet and piano, and maybe we’ll send you to their posh private school too. Wouldn’t that be great, Jess? No more tough kids like Tyrone ganging up on you!’

  I tried to picture it. I’m usually very good at imagining, but somehow I couldn’t manage it. Perhaps I’d already used up all my imaginative powers for the day thinking about Alfie. We still had hours to wait before we could set off for Battersea, but I was so impatient I could hardly sit still. After I’d got dressed I paced round and round the flat, driving Mum mad.

  ‘Hey, nip down to the newsagent’s,’ said Mum, frowning at her fingernails. ‘I think Amir sells nail-varnish remover. My nails are all chipped. Sean’s very fussy about stuff like that.’

  She gave me a note to put safely in my pocket, and I went down down down all the stairs. The lift was actually working, but at every twist of the stairs I wanted to jump two steps for luck. At the very end I did three steps, and very nearly wobbled over onto my knees, but I managed to save myself and then spread my arms triumphantly like a gymnast.

  ‘What you doing, pretending to be Batman?’ Tyrone was lounging against the wall, smoking a cigarette. He was doing it very self-consciously, making a great to-do of holding it between two fingers and narrowing his eyes in supposed bliss as he inhaled. Then
he coughed violently, which spoiled the effect.

  ‘What are you doing, pretending you’re a smoker?’ I said. I looked at him closely. His short hair was sticking out sideways where he’d slept on it. He was wearing a grubby T-shirt and trackie bottoms, as if he’d just got out of bed. Maybe he had just got up, because he had no socks on and his trainers were unlaced. He wasn’t wearing a jumper either, even though it was a fresh morning.

  ‘Do you want a puff?’ said Tyrone, offering it to me.

  ‘No thanks!’ I said.

  ‘You can have your own fag if you like,’ he said, reaching into his pocket.

  ‘I don’t like cigarettes,’ I told him, shaking my head.

  ‘Where you going then?’

  ‘Amir’s.’

  ‘Getting chocolate and crisps and stuff?’ Tyrone asked hopefully. ‘Give me something, eh? I’m happy to share my fags with you.’

  ‘I don’t want to share them! I’m getting my mum some nail-varnish remover. Do you fancy a swig of that?’ I said.

  ‘Oh ha ha, very funny.’ Tyrone walked beside me, holding his cigarette out ostentatiously. ‘What did your mum give you – a fiver? You could buy a KitKat and a packet of crisps out of that. Cheese and onion – they’re the best. Go on, get us some. I haven’t had no breakfast.’

  ‘What are you doing wasting money on cigarettes then?’ I said primly.

  ‘I didn’t buy them, I nicked them off my mum’s boyfriend.’ Tyrone paused. ‘I can’t stick him.’

  I blinked at him. ‘I can’t stick my mum’s boyfriend either,’ I said.

  ‘What? Don’t talk rubbish – your mum’s going out with Sean Godfrey! I’ve seen him picking her up in his red Porsche SUV. I’d give anything for my mum to go out with Sean Godfrey. Not that he’d pick her. Your mum’s quite a looker in a funny sort of way. Mine’s rubbish,’ said Tyrone.

  I was shocked to hear him speak about his own mother like that. I struggled to say something polite about her in return, but I couldn’t think of anything.

 

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