‘Thank you, Miss Oliver,’ I said, jumping up.
She looked as if she still wanted to say something, so I waited.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first,’ she said quietly. ‘And I shouldn’t have said it was preposterous.’
It’s not often teachers say they’re sorry. That’s what I like about Miss Oliver. She’s strict but she tries to be fair. She was actually looking quite upset.
‘It is a bit preposterous though, isn’t it?’ I said comfortingly. ‘I wouldn’t have believed it either, Miss Oliver.’
‘How do you feel about it, Jess?’ she asked.
‘Well … it still feels a bit weird. But the best thing ever is that I’ve got a dog now. We got him from Battersea yesterday. He’s called Alfie, and he’s the most lovely dog ever, and I’m going to teach him tricks, and maybe we’ll get really good and end up on Britain’s Got Talent.’
‘Maybe you will,’ said Miss Oliver, though I could tell she didn’t believe me again. ‘I’m glad you’ve got a Battersea dog. I’ve often thought I’d love a rescue greyhound. Maybe when I retire. We can keep each other company.’
We got so engrossed in chatting about dogs that there were only two minutes of playtime left when I finally ran outside.
Tyrone was waiting for me. ‘Poor you! She’s so mean making you stay in doing boring old sums,’ he said.
‘No, she was OK actually. We had a good talk,’ I said. ‘Tyrone, thanks for sticking up for me.’
‘Well, that’s what mates do, isn’t it? What’s Sean Godfrey’s house like, eh? Is it a great big mansion? What about his garden? Is it big enough for him to have his own football pitch?’
‘It’s quite a big house, and the garden’s big too, but not like a football pitch! There’s an indoor swimming pool though,’ I said.
‘Can I come round and see? This afternoon?’ Tyrone asked eagerly.
‘I’d better ask first, and we have to take my friends Ava and Alice to their house, but I’m sure Sean Godfrey will let you come some time – he likes you,’ I said.
‘Can I come round too?’ asked Piotr, who was hovering.
‘Me too. Oh, please, Jess,’ said Aleysha. ‘I’ll be your best friend if you let me come.’
Everyone wanted to be my new best friend. It was heady stuff. I was in great demand at lunchtime too. I swaggered around the playground telling everyone all about Sean Godfrey’s house. I started to make up stuff. His swimming pool increased in length and had its own wave machine and a spiral slide. This went down so well I considered adding a freshwater pool with a pair of pet dolphins, but thought it might be stretching things too far.
Instead I installed an ornamental fountain in the main hall, splashing up and down in time to a recording of Handel’s Water Music (Miss Oliver was teaching the school orchestra to play it on their recorders). I told them all about Rosalie, our housekeeper, but gave her lots of company, so in the end Sean Godfrey had enough servants to keep Downton Abbey spick and span.
We had a couple of specialist chefs – one to make amazing showstopper cakes and the other to concoct extraordinary ice creams in every flavour you could think of. I invented a rainbow knicker-bocker glory – a scoop each of strawberry, tangerine, lemon, gooseberry, blueberry and blackcurrant ice cream in a tall glass, with whipped cream and cherries on top. Everyone stood around licking their lips enviously.
I was stuck when the boys started asking me about Sean Godfrey’s sporting stuff, wondering which cups and trophies and football kit he had on display, as I’d only had a quick peep into his study, so I told them it was all in a special underground museum that was kept locked.
‘But he’ll let me see it,’ said Tyrone confidently. ‘He says I’ve got talent. And he’s going to let me drive his Porsche SUV.’
‘Don’t be daft, you’re not old enough. It’s against the law,’ said Piotr, not as loyal as usual.
‘Yes, I know that, but it’s in his private grounds – it’s not against the law then. He’s going to let me drive his other cars too, even his white vintage Rolls-Royce,’ said Tyrone.
I looked at him with new respect. He was almost as good at making things up as me. A huge crowd gathered round, listening, even the Year Sixes. They weren’t so easily impressed by my stories, even with Tyrone backing me up.
‘You’re such a liar, Jess Beaker,’ said Clare Turner. Everyone knew Clare because she had amazing hair and wore make-up to school and looked at least fourteen. ‘As if Sean Godfrey would ever go out with your mum! I happen to know he’s got an actress girlfriend, Sandy Forthright. She’s on the telly.’
‘That’s complete rubbish,’ I said. ‘My mum’s Sean Godfrey’s girlfriend. We live with him. Sean Godfrey and my mum are going to get married and I’m going to be their bridesmaid.’
‘Dream on, loser. Sean Godfrey might be having a little fling with your mum, but Sandy Forthright is his proper girlfriend. There was a whole article about them in Glossip. Me and my mum read it. There were all these photos of his house and his swimming pool, and he hasn’t got a spiral slide or a fountain in his hall. You’re making it all up,’ she said triumphantly.
I felt my cheeks flushing red. Was she right about Sandy Forthright? I’d seen her in the magazine I found in the back of Sean Godfrey’s car. Was she really still his girlfriend?
I took a deep breath. ‘Sandy Forthright’s yesterday’s news,’ I said, as scornfully as I could. ‘My mum’s engaged to Sean Godfrey. And he’s only just installed the slide and the fountain. For us – my mum and me. So stick that up your jumper, Clare Turner.’
I marched off, with most of the kids following behind. Mum would have been proud of me. I’d managed to convince them.
At home time I had my moment of triumph when Mum was waiting for me in the red Porsche, parked right outside the school gates. (Which was strictly forbidden, but how else could Mum show the car off to everyone?) All the children ran to get a closer look, and the parents at the gate were agog.
‘Hop in, kiddo,’ said Mum.
‘Mum, can Tyrone hop in too, just for a minute, so he can say hello to Alfie?’
Mum sighed. ‘If he’s very, very quick.’
I beckoned to Tyrone, and he got in the back with me, and Alfie licked us both and leaped from my lap to his and back again.
‘He really likes me!’ Tyrone said.
‘Of course he does.’
‘I wonder if he ever met Staffie.’
‘Maybe,’ I said.
‘I wish I’d been able to keep him,’ said Tyrone, sniffing.
‘Look, like I said before – you can share Alfie, if you like. I mean, he’s mine, and he lives with me at Sean Godfrey’s, but you can take him for walks with me sometimes, and maybe we can go to the park with him, and you can help teach him tricks.’
‘You’re a star, Jess!’ Tyrone breathed. He gave Alfie a big hug – and then he gave me a quick hug too and shot out of the car.
‘My, my!’ said Mum as we drove off. ‘Is Tyrone your boyfriend now?’
‘Don’t tease! I’m too young to have a boyfriend!’
I felt that Mum was too old to have a boyfriend, but I didn’t dare say so. The copy of Glossip was still tucked in the magazine slot. I edged it out, hoping Mum couldn’t see me in the driving mirror, and leafed through it as quietly as I could. I couldn’t find a big feature about Sean Godfrey and Sandy Forthright – just the little photo at the back, in the party-going section. He didn’t have his arm round her – they were just chatting casually.
I didn’t know what to do. Should I tell Mum? All the time we were at Ava and Alice’s I kept trying to make up my mind. Marina came home extra early so that she could have a good gossip with Mum.
‘I can’t believe it, Tracy! I googled Sean Godfrey, obviously. I didn’t realize he was so famous!’
‘Yeah, he is, isn’t he?’ said Mum, enjoying it.
‘Well, I hope I get to meet him some time,’ said Marina. ‘So I suppose this means I�
��ll have to find someone else to look after the girls.’
‘Oh no!’ said Alice, horrified.
‘We don’t want anyone else, we want Tracy!’ said Ava.
‘And Jess,’ said Alice. ‘Me and Jess are best friends, aren’t we?’
‘Yes!’ I said.
‘And Alfie’s half mine too!’
‘Maybe a quarter yours,’ I suggested anxiously. I seemed to be chopping poor Alfie into bits like a butcher, sharing him out to my friends. Still, he didn’t seem to mind, and was wagging his tail and happily leaping up to lick everyone’s knees.
‘Down, Alfie!’ said Mum. ‘And calm down, girls. I’m sorry, Marina, I hate letting you down, and this has been the best job ever, but it’s just not practical any more. I’ll keep coming till you find someone else for the girls, but then I’m going to have to bow out.’
‘Mum!’ I said, anguished.
‘But I hope it won’t stop us all being friends,’ she added quickly.
‘Of course it won’t!’ said Marina. ‘You and Jess must still come round.’
‘And Alfie,’ said Alice.
‘And you must come to us,’ said Mum. ‘One Saturday?’
‘This Saturday?’ said Ava and Alice.
‘Please say yes, Mum – and could Tyrone possibly come too?’ I begged. I knew this wasn’t such a good idea because I was pretty sure that Tyrone and Ava and Alice wouldn’t get on, but I knew just how much he wanted to come.
‘Well, I’ll check with Sean first, but I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes,’ Mum said. ‘Maybe not this Saturday, but certainly some time very soon.’
‘That would be great, Tracy. I can’t wait to meet him – and I bet he’s got a fabulous house!’ said Marina. ‘Oh my God, you’re an actual WAG!’
‘What’s a WAG?’ I asked when we were back in the car. We didn’t have to wait to give Ava and Alice their tea because Marina was there to do it.
‘It’s a silly name for footballers’ wives and girlfriends,’ said Mum. ‘Only Sean isn’t a footballer any more, so they can’t call me that.’
‘Did he have wives and girlfriends when he was playing football?’ I asked, fingering the glossy pages of Glossip.
‘Not wives! But I think he had heaps of girlfriends.’
‘Did he ever go out with an actress?’
‘Is this Miss Oliver’s homework for tonight – write a potted biography of your mum’s boyfriend?’
‘I just want to know.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Clare Turner at school says Sean Godfrey’s got a girlfriend called Sandy Forthright.’
‘Oh yeah, he told me he used to go out with her. She used to be in Emmerdale – or was it EastEnders? One of those,’ said Mum. ‘But they split up ages ago.’
‘Are you sure? Because there’s a photo of them at some party in this Glossip magazine,’ I said, waving it about.
Alfie thought it was a game and seized hold of it.
‘Alfie, don’t eat it! Stop it – you’re ripping it!’ I told him.
‘Hey, hey, stop mucking about while I’m driving,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t care if Alfie rips it – it’s a rubbish magazine. They publish all sorts of gossip and scandal. If there’s a photo of Sean and Sandy Forthright, then it was obviously taken months and months ago.’
She sounded so certain and dismissive that I relaxed. When we got back to the house, Mum had a cup of tea and a chocolate cookie with Rosalie, and I had a glass of milk and a chocolate cookie too, and Alfie had a bowl of water and a special dog biscuit because you must never give a dog chocolate. I’m going to be the most responsible dog owner ever.
Mum suggested we have a little swim before Sean Godfrey came back from the gym.
‘That would be great!’ I said.
She looked at Rosalie, who was chopping up vegetables for supper. ‘You come and have a dip too, Rosalie,’ she said.
‘I can’t!’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, Rosalie, we’ll teach you,’ I said. ‘Breaststroke’s easy-peasy.’
She laughed. ‘I can swim, darling! At home in the Philippines I lived on an island and all us kids went swimming every day.’
‘Do you get homesick?’ I asked.
‘Yes, I do. I miss my family. And the sunshine. But I can make much more money here.’
‘I suppose we’ve got much more money now, haven’t we, Mum?’ I said. ‘But I’m homesick already. I liked Marlborough Tower – where we used to live,’ I explained to Rosalie.
‘Marlborough Tower didn’t have a swimming pool,’ said Mum. ‘Come on, let’s get changed into our cossies. You too, Rosalie!’
‘But I have to do the supper. I’m here to work for Mr Sean, not go swimming,’ she protested.
‘Well, I’m going to be Mrs Sean sometime soon, so you’ll be working for me too, and I say come in the pool with Jess and me!’ said Mum. ‘I’ll lend you a costume.’
Rosalie grinned. ‘I’m glad you’re going to be Mrs Sean,’ she said. ‘OK, I will!’
She was a brilliant swimmer, much better than us. We had a race, and she won easily. She could swim a whole length underwater too, which looked awesome. I took a deep breath and had a go, but as soon as I disappeared beneath the surface Alfie started barking, and then jumped into the pool to rescue me, making a terrific splash.
Alfie couldn’t swim very well, not even doggy paddle, so I had to rescue him, and then sit on the side of the pool giving him a reassuring cuddle. I was very touched that he was so brave – even though all the towels on the loungers were now soaked.
After they’d got dressed, Mum helped Rosalie with the rest of the vegetables, and supper was nearly ready by the time Sean Godfrey arrived. He was pleased to see Mum and me home already, and thrilled when Mum told him she’d given her notice to Marina.
Mum served the supper so that Rosalie could go home early. Then we all watched another film down in the cinema room, while Alfie fell asleep on my lap. I took him for a last wee in the garden, and then we went to bed.
Mum and Sean Godfrey had seemed all lovey-dovey, but a bit later I woke up because I could hear them arguing. They were in their bedroom at the other end of the landing, so I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, even though Mum was shouting. I thought she said the name Sandy Forthright.
I patted my bed, and Alfie jumped up eagerly and lay beside me. I held him close. What were we going to do? If Sean Godfrey was still seeing this Sandy Forthright, then Mum would go mental. She’d walk out.
This was what I’d wanted. I still didn’t like Sean Godfrey. I didn’t even like his house, though Rosalie was lovely and the swimming pool was great fun. I’d still much much much prefer to go home to Marlborough Tower. But I had Alfie now. I already felt as if I’d had him all my life. I loved him so much, only second to Mum. If she had this big row with Sean Godfrey and we had to go back to Marlborough Tower, then what would happen to Alfie?
I DIDN’T SLEEP very well. I kept a firm grip on Alfie all night long. When Mum shook me awake I peered at her anxiously, but she didn’t look distraught. Her eyes weren’t red. She sounded surprisingly cheerful.
‘Wake up, sleepyhead. And you, Alfie Beaker! I’m going to make sure you both get a proper breakfast this morning. I’ll take Alfie for a wee while you jump in the bath, Jess, OK?’ she said.
‘Are you OK, Mum?’ I asked, kicking off my duvet.
‘Of course! Why shouldn’t I be?’
When I went downstairs Rosalie was already in the kitchen making waffles!
‘This is the most heavenly breakfast ever!’ I said, decorating mine with raspberries and blueberries and maple syrup and cream.
‘You tuck in, Little Miss Skinny,’ said Rosalie. ‘There’s another here if you can eat it.’
‘Isn’t that for Sean Godfrey?’ I asked.
‘Jess!’ said Mum, her mouth full. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? Just call him Sean! And he’s not having breakfast now, he’s gone for a long run.’
I imagined him running
and running and running, further and further and further away. Perhaps Sandy Forthright was puffing along beside him. They were running so far they could never, ever get back. Mum and Alfie and I could stay in the house and drive the red Porsche and swim in the pool and have Rosalie for a friend!
I wasn’t daft. I knew perfectly well that it could never happen, but it was lovely daydreaming while I munched my waffle.
Sean Godfrey had left the car keys on the kitchen table.
‘Are you driving the Porsche again, Mum?’ I asked.
‘Yep! And Sean says there’s no point my going and collecting our car as it’s such an old banger. He’s going to get me a flash new car of my own,’ she said.
‘Seriously?’ Mum was as good as me at making things up.
She grinned. ‘Seriously!’
When we got in the car, Mum reached into the back for the crumpled copy of Glossip, screwed it into a tight ball, then tossed it into the recycling bin by the gate. ‘In the trash. Where it belongs,’ she said.
I took a deep breath. ‘Mum, is Sean God— Sean still seeing Sandy Forthright?’
‘No! Of course not. He’s engaged to me. What sort of ring shall I choose, Jess? A diamond? Or how about a ruby? Or a sapphire or an emerald?’
‘Whatever. So how come they were photographed together at this party?’ I said.
‘Oh, that was just unlucky,’ said Mum, in a deliberate couldn’t-care-less voice. ‘They happened to be at the same party promoting something or other, and when Sandy saw the cameras flashing she went marching up to him. She used to go out with him and probably wants him back, but she can’t have him. He’s mine now.’
‘Were you having a row about it last night?’ I asked.
‘We don’t have rows,’ Mum said firmly.
My Mum Tracy Beaker Page 12