‘When I lived at the Dumping Ground, going to McDonald’s was the biggest treat in the world,’ said Mum. ‘I couldn’t believe my luck when Cam took me there!’
She chatted away determinedly to give me a chance to calm down. I put one fingernail-size piece of steak in my mouth and started chewing. I chewed and chewed and chewed, but it wouldn’t go down. Alfie’s damp nose pressed against my knee. I could feel him trembling with anticipation. He couldn’t understand why I’d suddenly stopped feeding him. He gave a little woof to remind me that he was there and he was hungry. I gave him an apologetic pat. It wasn’t a good move. Alfie thought I had meat in my hand. He didn’t like being teased any more than I did. He barked indignantly.
‘You’re not feeding him again, are you?’ Sean Godfrey demanded.
‘No, I’m not – though he’s getting upset,’ I said. ‘It’s so unfair, us having our tea while he’s not allowed any.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! Look, I’ll take him in the kitchen and give him some dog food in a bowl right this minute. Will that satisfy you?’
He pulled Alfie out from under the table, got hold of his collar and hauled him towards the kitchen.
‘Don’t! He doesn’t like being pulled like that,’ I said.
‘He’s a dog, Jess. He’s got to know his place,’ said Sean Godfrey, taking Alfie away.
I knew my place in this household too. I was under Sean Godfrey’s thumb, and I hated it. Alfie hated it too. He was given a bowl of dog food, but he clearly didn’t think it a fair exchange. He hated being shut in the kitchen, away from me, and started howling, scrabbling at the door with his paws.
I put my knife and fork together on my plate, unable to eat any more.
‘Now you’re just being deliberately awkward, Jess,’ said Sean Godfrey. ‘Eat up!’
‘Don’t tell Jess what to do, Sean,’ said Mum. ‘She’s not used to being spoken to like that.’
‘Yes, well, it’s obvious you’ve spoiled her rotten,’ he said.
Mum went white. She put her own knife and fork together. ‘Are you saying I’m not a good mum?’ she said.
I held my breath. So did Sean Godfrey. Even Alfie stopped howling for a second.
‘I’m not saying anything of the kind. You’re a wonderful mum, Trace, you know you are. I didn’t mean to upset you, darling. I just hate to see food wasted, that’s all. I’m a bit hyped up. I shouldn’t have nagged you like that, Jess. I’m sorry.’
Maybe he was. I think he was just scared that Mum might lose her temper altogether and walk out when we’d only just got here. But his little speech worked. Mum took a deep breath, and then reached out and patted his hand.
‘I’m sorry too, Sean,’ she murmured. ‘It must feel a bit odd having us here, Jess and me and the dog, all cluttering up your home. No wonder you’re a bit tense.’
He took hold of Mum’s hand and held it tightly. ‘You’re a gem,’ he said huskily.
I was allowed to leave the rest of my meat. I found I couldn’t even eat much of the chocolate mousse. It was an enormous relief when the meal was over.
Mum and Sean sat over their cups of coffee while I went into the kitchen to comfort Alfie. He leaped up eagerly, so happy to see me. I gave him a big hug and made a huge fuss of him. But I was conscious of a horrible smell. I looked at the floor. There was something terrible on the quarry tiles.
‘Oh, Alfie!’ I whispered.
Perhaps that was why he’d been howling – he was desperately trying to tell me he needed to go out. It wasn’t his fault. But Sean Godfrey would go bananas.
I didn’t know what to do. If I called Mum, then Sean Godfrey would want to know what was going on. I had to deal with it myself.
There were kitchen towels, thank goodness. And then I wiped the floor over with a j-cloth, and bundled that into another kitchen towel. I found some disinfectant spray and had a go with that for good measure. Then I washed my hands thoroughly, opened the window wide and took Alfie out for a walk in the garden. I held all the kitchen towels at arm’s length till I could chuck them into Sean Godfrey’s waste bin.
It was an enormous relief to get rid of them. I took a proper breath for the first time in five minutes, and then started running. Alfie bobbed along ahead of me, constantly looking round to check that I was still there.
‘We hate Sean Godfrey, don’t we?’ I said to him.
Alfie agreed.
But Mum liked him. When she came to kiss me goodnight in the new room that was my bedroom, she cuddled me close and said, ‘It’s all working out OK, isn’t it, Jess?’
‘I suppose so,’ I said. ‘But I hate not having half my things. And where are all our ornaments – our china dogs and the Toby jugs and the birds and the little teddies?’
‘Sean doesn’t really like clutter, Jess.’
‘But we like it!’
‘Well, we’ll sneak a few more bits in here and there. Perhaps he won’t notice,’ said Mum. ‘Don’t let’s stress about it now. We’re going to be so happy here, you and me.’
‘And Alfie,’ I said.
He was curled up in the brand-new dog bed that Sean Godfrey had bought him from Battersea Dogs Home – but as soon as Mum had gone he started whimpering.
I felt a bit like whimpering too.
‘Come up here, Alfie,’ I said, patting the bed.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. He came bounding over and leaped up beside me on the white duvet. I held him close, breathing in his lovely warm doggy smell. When he heard Sean Godfrey laughing downstairs he started growling.
‘I wish he’d shut up, don’t you, Alfie? We don’t like him. We don’t like this house. It’s all strange and different. Even Mum’s different. Do you think she’s right? Will we really be happy here?’ I asked him.
Alfie didn’t seem sure. And neither was I.
IT WAS A terrible rush to get ready in the morning. I pulled on my jeans and a sweater to take Alfie for a quick wee in the garden, but when I went up to change for school, it took me ages to find my skirt and blouse, and my PE kit was nowhere to be found. Mum must have forgotten to pack it yesterday. I was going to be in trouble. Miss Oliver was always very fierce if anyone forgot their PE kit.
I hurried downstairs for breakfast, Alfie beside me, and then stopped short at the kitchen door. There was a complete stranger standing by the stove, scrambling eggs and grilling bacon – a small lady with long dark hair, wearing jeans. She was young and she was pretty. She couldn’t be another girlfriend, could she?
‘Hello!’ she said, smiling. ‘I’m Rosalie. Do you like eggs? And bacon? Mr Sean always likes a proper breakfast when he gets back from the gym. There’s plenty here.’
I hesitated. The eggs and bacon did smell good. I hadn’t had much to eat last night. But I always had cornflakes for breakfast.
‘Perhaps your dog would like bacon too?’ Rosalie asked.
‘Yes please!’ I said, won over.
‘What is his name?’ she asked, patting him.
‘He’s Alfie. And I’m Jess.’
‘So you’re Mr Sean’s lady’s little girl?’
‘Yes. Well. My mum’s Tracy Beaker. She’s going to marry Sean Godfrey,’ I said.
‘Ah, I love a wedding,’ said Rosalie. ‘Has your mum chosen her wedding dress?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said, hating the idea of Mum in a long white gown.
‘I am very good at baking. I will make your mum a marvellous wedding cake – three tiers, royal icing, little marzipan figures of her and Mr Sean. If she’d like it …’
Mum herself came dashing into the room, her hair wilder than ever, her T-shirt on inside out. She looked at the kitchen clock and gasped. ‘We’re soooo late, Jess,’ she said, and then she stopped short, staring at Rosalie.
‘Don’t worry, Miss Tracy, I’m just about to serve your bacon and eggs,’ said Rosalie.
‘And who are you?’ Mum asked, astonished.
‘I’m Rosalie, Mr Sean’s housekeeper.’ She pr
etended to look upset, pulling a sad face. ‘Didn’t he tell you about me?’
‘Oh, right, you’re his housekeeper!’ said Mum, sounding relieved. Perhaps she’d thought Rosalie was another girlfriend too. ‘Well, thanks very much, Rosalie, but Jess and I will have to dash.’
Sean Godfrey came into the room, yawning and stretching – he had clearly only just got up too. He was wearing a maroon tracksuit with a gold SG printed on the front. His gold ring was engraved with his initials as well as the identity bracelet. It’s a wonder he didn’t have a tattooed S on one cheek and a G on the other.
‘No gym, Mr Sean?’ asked Rosalie.
‘A guy needs a lie-in once in a while.’ He looked at Mum. ‘Where are you off to, Trace? You haven’t even had breakfast yet.’
‘I’ve got to pick up Ava and Alice, and it’ll take at least half an hour to get there,’ Mum gabbled. ‘Come on, Jess. Is Alfie on his lead?’
‘Who on earth are Ava and Alice?’ said Sean. ‘Hi, Rosalie! Pile that plate high, darling – and give some to Tracy and Jess too.’
‘Certainly, Mr Sean,’ said Rosalie.
‘I haven’t got time for breakfast,’ Mum said. ‘I take Ava and Alice to school every morning. I told you all about them, Sean.’
‘Ava and Alice!’ he said in a silly mocking voice. ‘Sit down and eat. Then give their mother a call and say you can’t come. You don’t have to ferry other people’s kids around any more. You’re not a flipping childminder. You’re a Sean-minder now!’ He laughed at his own joke.
Mum wasn’t smiling. ‘I’m not letting Marina down. She’s my friend. Jess, come on.’
Rosalie shook her head sympathetically and crammed a huge bacon sandwich into my hand.
‘Share with your mum. And dog!’ she murmured.
Mum dashed out of the front door and then stood still. Sean’s big red car was there on the driveway, but our car was back in its parking space at Marlborough Tower.
Mum said a very rude word.
Sean Godfrey had followed us, a cup of coffee in one hand – and a set of keys in the other. ‘Here, babe,’ he said, tossing the keys to Mum.
‘Oh, wow!’ she said. ‘You mean it? But how will you get to the gym?’
‘I’ll run there. Do me good – I missed my workout this morning. But drive carefully, for Pete’s sake.’
Mum said, ‘Promise!’ and gave him a quick kiss.
I sat in the back of the car with Alfie on my lap.
‘Wheeee!’ said Mum, revving up. ‘This is the life! Don’t you dare get bacon grease on the upholstery, Jess. And don’t let Alfie slobber everywhere.’
‘He’s not the slightest bit slobbery,’ I said, offended, sharing my breakfast with him.
‘I don’t think bacon’s good for him,’ said Mum. ‘We’ve got to get him into a sensible eating routine. You should feed him that dog food Sean bought.’
‘Alfie doesn’t like it,’ I said firmly. ‘Mum, we can still see Ava and Alice every day, can’t we?’
‘Well, I’m not going to leave Marina in the lurch – but I don’t see how I can keep on working for her now we live so far away. And Sean will create if we have our tea with them every evening.’
‘So what?’ I said. ‘You’re not going to let him boss us around, are you? You’re Tracy Beaker! You’re the one who does the bossing.’
‘Yes, and that’s probably why all my relationships so far have been rubbish,’ said Mum. ‘I’m going to make this work, Jess. I know that Sean’s a bit …’
‘Irritating?’ I said. ‘Fierce? Full of himself?’
‘Shut it, Miss Lippy. OK, he can be all those things, but he’s a sweet guy really, and very, very generous,’ said Mum. ‘How many other blokes would let me drive their flash car? It’s great, isn’t it?’
‘It’s OK,’ I said, though I had to admit it was fun driving along with everyone staring at us enviously.
‘Men aren’t exactly queuing up to go out with me,’ Mum continued. ‘I was starting to feel like I did at the Dumping Ground, desperate for someone to come along and want me.’
‘But Cam came along,’ I pointed out.
‘Yes, she did, and I was dead lucky, though I didn’t always acknowledge it at the time. And now Sean’s come along and I’m dead lucky all over again.’
‘He’s lucky to have you,’ I said.
‘Come on, Jess. There’s thousands of women out there who’d like to elbow me out the way. Sean’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s famous – what more could I want?’
‘We don’t want him, do we?’ I whispered in Alfie’s ear, and he licked my face in agreement.
But I must admit it was wonderful driving up to Marina’s house in his Porsche SUV and seeing their faces. Marina was looking tense because we were so late and she was desperate to get to work – but when she saw us she burst out laughing, and made herself even later bombarding Mum with questions.
Ava was very impressed with the car too, but I don’t think Alice even noticed we hadn’t arrived in our old banger. She only had eyes for Alfie.
I felt my heart swell with pride as I let the girls pat him.
‘That’s the way, Alice. See, he loves having his back stroked. Gently, Ava! He doesn’t really like you touching his head,’ I said.
‘How do you know if you’ve only just got him?’ said Ava. ‘He does like it! Look, he’s licking me.’
‘That’s because he’s so friendly – but don’t pull his ears about like that!’
Alfie protested, growling softly.
‘See!’ I said triumphantly.
‘Will he bite?’ Ava started edging away.
‘Only if I say so,’ I said, though Alfie was such a good-natured dog I couldn’t imagine him biting anyone, even a burglar.
Ava believed me, and treated Alfie and me with the greatest respect all the way to their school. Alice kept up a constant chorus: ‘Oh, he’s so lovely! I wish wish wish I had my own dog. You’re so lucky, Jess!’
‘Will Sean Godfrey let you drive his car every morning, Tracy?’ Ava asked.
‘If I want to,’ said Mum.
‘I wish we had a car like this instead of a boring old Volvo. You’re so lucky!’
It was marvellous being thought so lucky. The car caused quite a commotion when we drew up outside their school. It made all the Range Rovers look as boring as golf buggies. Everyone stared, and then the girls shrieked and pointed and came running. Ava swaggered across the playground as if it was her own car. Alice had to be prised away from Alfie, and kept running back to give him one more pat.
‘Well!’ said Mum when we were on our way to my school at last. ‘Looks like we’re the posh-nobs now, kiddo!’
By the time we got to Duke Primary we were very late indeed. Everyone had gone inside and lessons had started.
‘Oh bother, I wanted everyone to see us roll up in the car,’ said Mum. ‘Oh well, they can have a good peer when I come to collect you this afternoon. What’s up, Jess?’
‘Miss Oliver hates people being late,’ I said anxiously.
‘Do you want me to come in with you and explain?’ Mum asked.
‘No, that might make things worse,’ I said quickly, giving Alfie a kiss. ‘You be a good boy for Mum, OK? Mum, you will remember to take him outside sometimes so he doesn’t have any accidents? And if he does, promise you won’t get too cross with him?’
‘I never got cross with you when you were a toddler and did wees on the carpet, now did I?’
‘Mum! You are so embarrassing sometimes,’ I said.
I ran across the playground. Mrs Fisher, the school secretary, shook her head at me, and wrote my name down in the Late Book. I ran down the corridor and then entered my classroom timidly.
Miss Oliver was showing everyone how to do sums using a twenty-four-hour clock. ‘And what time do you call this, Jessica Beaker?’ she said.
‘Nine twenty,’ I mumbled.
‘Why are you so spectacularly late when you only live five minutes aw
ay?’ she asked sternly.
I took a deep breath. ‘Well, actually, we don’t live on the Duke Estate any more, we live on a private estate miles away, so it takes us a long time to get here even though Mum was driving the Porsche,’ I gabbled.
There was a little gasp from the class.
Miss Oliver shook her head at me. ‘Really, Jess. I know you’re good at telling stories in your literacy lessons, but I’d prefer you not to invent such a preposterous one as an excuse for getting up late. Do you think I was born yesterday?’
‘But it’s true, Miss Oliver,’ I said. ‘You ask my mum!’
‘I’d sooner not, thank you. Now sit down – and at playtime you can stay in the classroom to catch up with the sums you’ve missed,’ she said crisply.
I saw that it was pointless protesting any further and sat down meekly – but Tyrone was waggling his arm in the air.
‘It is true, Miss! Jess wasn’t telling fibs. She really does live with all the posh-nobs now. Her mum Tracy Beaker has hooked up with Sean Godfrey – you know, the footballer. He’s going to give me lessons down his gym. And maybe he’ll let me drive his Porsche too,’ he said.
Miss Oliver blinked at both of us.
‘I saw Jess and her mum go off in Sean Godfrey’s car,’ said Piotr.
‘Jess’s mum is Sean Godfrey’s girlfriend now, but my mum says she doesn’t get what he sees in her,’ said Aleysha, who sits behind me.
There was a sudden hubbub in class as everyone joined in.
Miss Oliver clapped her hands. ‘Quiet, everyone! For goodness’ sake, you’re like a load of turkeys going gobble-gobble-gobble. We’re not here to gossip about the Beaker family. Let us get on with our maths,’ she said sternly.
When the bell rang for playtime, I wasn’t sure whether I still had to stay in or not. I sat at my desk, fiddling with my maths book.
Miss Oliver came over and briefly peered at my sums. ‘It looks as if you’ve got them all right, so you don’t have to stay in after all, Jess,’ she said.
My Mum Tracy Beaker Page 11