‘Pretty much.’
‘Tracy’s not that sort of person at all,’ said Cam.
‘Maybe she’s turning into Granny Carly.’ I meant it as a joke, but my voice wobbled. What if she really was?
‘Look, I know your mum better than anyone. She’s gone a bit bonkers just at the moment, but she’ll soon snap back into her old self.’ Cam meant it to sound reassuring, but her voice went a bit funny too.
‘She did try to get the china dogs and the teddies and all our other stuff back – though Sean Godfrey stopped her,’ I said.
‘What? Didn’t he let you take all your special things?’ This time Cam was outraged.
‘He says he’ll get Mum new things. He doesn’t like anything second-hand. Mum and I don’t even go to Sunday boot fairs any more,’ I said. ‘She just has a long lie-in with him.’
Cam pulled a face. ‘Well, tell you what we’re going to do,’ she said, scrabbling in her bag and bringing out a set of keys. ‘Aha! Look! Your mum gave me a spare key to your flat ages ago. Let’s go there right this minute and collect some of your stuff. And then tomorrow morning we’ll go to a boot fair, you and me. If Sean creates, you can always keep your treasures here, OK?’
‘Oh, Cam, I do love you,’ I said, throwing my arms around her neck. ‘I’m so, so glad you came along to the children’s home and met Mum!’
The girls were all going out bowling. Cam and Alfie and I went to Marlborough Tower.
When we got inside the flat I burst into tears. It seemed to have shrunk, and I saw that the sofa was a bit saggy and the curtains uneven and the damp patch on the wall much bigger – but it was still home. Alfie liked it too, and bounded around, trying the sofa and the chairs and the beds for size. He barked happily at everything, though I kept trying to shush him because dogs weren’t allowed. I kept imagining some scary dog catcher creeping along the balcony with a big net and a cage, all set to capture him.
‘Calm down, Alfie! We won’t be long, I promise. Please stop barking,’ I begged.
I went around the flat giving everything a little stroke, even the kettle and the toilet-roll holder and the wastepaper basket.
‘So what do you want to take, Jess?’ Cam asked. She’d brought two big bags-for-life and some bubble wrap.
I gave the flat another quick circuit. ‘Everything!’ I declared.
‘I know. I understand. But we can’t shrink it all down so it fits into two bags. Pick out the things you like best, and we’ll take them now. We can always come back for more before the council gives the flat to someone else,’ said Cam.
‘Nobody else should be allowed to come and live in our flat!’ I declared.
‘I know. I felt like that about my old flat,’ said Cam. ‘It was small and shabby but it was my flat, and I thought it looked lovely, with all my books and plants, and my pictures on the wall. I was very happy there, especially when your mum came to live with me. Still, I think she always hoped I’d write a bestseller and we’d move somewhere really swish.’
‘Yeah – and now she has,’ I said, sighing.
‘Come on now, Jess, let’s get your favourite things. Alfie’s looking fidgety. We don’t want him weeing on the carpet,’ said Cam.
I picked out the china dogs, and the teddies, and the Toby jugs, and the balloon ladies, and the bluebirds, and the plaster ducks, and the parrot in the cage. I wanted the bookcase as well, but Cam said it was too big to go in her car.
I chose some clothes instead – my cosy dressing gown, and last year’s jacket with the silky red lining, and my shorts, and my green swimming costume and my matching green flip-flops with big daisies on the toe-straps.
‘Excellent choices,’ said Cam. ‘What about your mum’s clothes? Do you think she’ll want any?’
‘I know!’ I went to Mum’s wardrobe and burrowed my way through her jeans and jackets and found the child’s outfit right at the back, on a special little hanger. It was a red jumper and a blue skirt. They were very old and had a musty wardrobe smell, but several times I’d caught Mum getting them out and looking at them.
I’d wondered if she’d bought them at a boot fair and was keeping them for me. I rather hoped not because I didn’t really like them. For ages they were too big for me, but now they seemed exactly the right size – though she hadn’t made me wear them. She hadn’t chucked them out either. She’d just kept them in the wardrobe, as if they were special.
Cam saw me holding them. ‘Oh my goodness.’ She held the old woolly jumper to her cheek and then smoothed the crumpled skirt. ‘I had no idea your mum still had these. They were her clothes – the ones she always wore at the children’s home. She was wearing them the day we met. Yes, let’s take them too. I want them, even if your mum doesn’t!’
We set off with the two bulging bags, Alfie capering along the balcony, barking his head off. I kept looking back, wishing I’d been able to take more. I even wondered about our doormat, the one that said Home Sweet Home.
When we got back to Cam’s I felt all shaken up and sad, but she made us hot chocolate with whippy cream on top, and we watched a DVD, and I cheered up. Mum sent me a funny goodnight text via Cam’s phone, saying she was staying the night in a fairy-tale castle that I would absolutely love. She signed it Cinderella. Did she really think Sean Godfrey was the handsome prince? I went to sleep in my borrowed bed surprisingly quickly – but I woke up very early, wide awake.
I kept thinking about our flat. Even if I smuggled all our precious things into Sean Godfrey’s house, it still wouldn’t be home. Mum might be planning to marry in a fairytale castle, but I didn’t see how our story could possibly end happily ever after.
My tummy felt tight. I got up to go to the loo. I tried to walk on tiptoe so I wouldn’t disturb Alfie. He was curled up at the end of my bed, thankfully not stirring, but Cam must have heard me pattering up and down the landing. Her door opened.
‘Jess? Are you all right?’ she whispered.
‘Not really,’ I mumbled. ‘I’ve got tummy ache.’
‘Come in here then.’
I got into bed with her. It wasn’t really cold but I seemed to be shivering.
‘There now,’ said Cam, giving me a cuddle.
I gradually got warmer and the knots in my tummy loosened.
‘Bit better?’ she asked.
‘A lot better. Sorry if I woke you.’
‘I was actually awake myself.’
‘Were you worrying too?’
‘I suppose I was.’
‘About Mum or me?’
‘That’s the problem. I want you both to be happy.’
‘And there’s Alfie too,’ I said.
‘Yep, and he’s all my fault. I’ve just made things even more complicated,’ said Cam.
‘But in a good way,’ I said. ‘I absolutely love Alfie. I love him just as much as you and Mum. You’re my top three equal people.’
‘And I want all three of you to be living in the right place, and I can’t work out how to do it. When I was at school there was this horrible intelligence test where some poor man had to ferry a fox and a chicken and a sack of corn across to an island and he didn’t know how to do it, because the fox would eat the chicken and the chicken would eat the corn if they were put together. It made my head spin. I was never much good at that kind of test,’ said Cam.
‘Me neither. I’m glad Miss Oliver doesn’t give us tests like that. So what’s the answer?’
‘Oh, the man rows them over two at a time, and then leaves only one on the island, going back for the next. Something like that,’ said Cam vaguely. She was quiet for a minute or two. ‘I don’t know! Now I’ve really woken up. How’s that poorly tummy of yours? Might you be ready for a spot of early breakfast, just us two?’
It seemed like a good idea. We crept downstairs and had a bowl of cornflakes each. Jax came creeping down too, wearing big pyjamas with a teddy-bear pattern. She looked a lot less scary in them.
‘Come and have some breakfast, Jax,’ said Cam.
Jax had two bowls of cornflakes and a banana and a huge jam sandwich. ‘Is this proper breakfast or is it just an early snack?’ she asked.
‘Whatever.’ Cam stretched. ‘You know what I sometimes do on Sunday mornings when the girls are still asleep? I go for a swim. Do you fancy that, Jess?’
‘A swim in Sean Godfrey’s pool?’
‘No! Down the leisure centre. It always opens early, even on a Sunday. Let’s do it. You’ve got your costume with you. What about you, Jax – do you feel like it?’
‘No thanks! I’m going back to bed,’ she said, yawning.
‘Will you keep an eye on Alfie for us – he’ll probably need a wee soon?’ Cam asked.
‘If I must,’ said Jax, but she grinned. ‘He’s a cute dog.’
I worried about leaving Alfie all the same, but Cam reassured me.
‘Jax is great,’ she said as we set off for the leisure centre.
‘Great as in a great big girl?’ I said.
‘Well, she’s that, and she can be a bit gruff at times – but she’s utterly reliable. And she’s good at looking after people. She’s got a lot of little brothers and sisters, who sometimes come on a family visit, and they all adore her,’ said Cam.
I still wasn’t quite convinced, and couldn’t help worrying when we were getting changed in the leisure centre.
‘Alfie’s still in my head,’ I complained through the cubicle wall. ‘I keep worrying that he’s woken up and is desperately trying to find me. I think I’m going to have to go back for him.’
‘You have to leave him sometimes,’ said Cam. ‘You said he was fine with Trev.’
‘Yes, but that was just a one-off.’
‘What about when you go to school?’
‘I can leave him with Mum then,’ I said.
‘Well, what are you going to do if you and your mum have a day out shopping? Dogs aren’t allowed in shopping centres.’
‘Not going to happen. Mum hates that kind of shopping. And anyway, if we do have to go somewhere stupid where dogs aren’t allowed, then I’ll leave Alfie with you. Not Jax.’
‘Suppose it’s a day when I have a meeting with a social worker or I’ve got to take one of the girls for a medical appointment? I’d leave him with Jax then,’ said Cam. ‘Have you got your swimming cossie on yet?’
‘I’ve just taken it off to go back to your place.’
‘Well, put it on again! I know you’re worried about Alfie, but you have to learn to put up with it. It’s what happens when you love someone. You worry about them,’ said Cam.
‘Do you worry about me?’
‘Of course I do, you jam pot. And your mum. And all my girls, even the ones who’ve grown up and gone their own way.’
‘Mum thinks you’re mad looking after so many girls,’ I said, stepping back into my costume.
‘It was more worry looking after your mum when she was little than all my current girls squashed together,’ said Cam. ‘Only better not tell her that! Come on! Let’s hold hands and jump in together.’
As soon as I was in the water I found the Alfie-thoughts had shrunk to a little worried face emoji in my head, and I could enjoy myself after all. There weren’t too many people in the pool, so we could swim up and down to get warm. Then we had a rest floating on our backs. We played around doing handstands in the shallow end, and then we swam underwater. I pretended I was a dolphin, and Cam laughed.
‘That’s exactly what your mum used to do when we went swimming together,’ she said.
‘She still does it now,’ I told her. ‘She’s actually better at it than me.’
Cam knew several of the swimmers. They all said hello to me as well.
‘Who’s this little mite then? Is she your grand-daughter?’ one old man asked, putting his goggles on his forehead to have a good peer at me.
‘Yes, she is,’ said Cam. ‘This is my Jess.’ She sounded so proud of me.
Next we did a few lengths of freestyle. Cam got a bit out of puff, so she leaned against the side in the shallow end while I did some more lengths and then swam back to her. She was chatting to a lady of about her age wearing a black swimming hat. There was something strangely familiar about her pale face and her smile. She had little pink marks on her nose, as if she normally wore glasses.
‘Mary, this is my Jess,’ said Cam, putting her arm round me. ‘Jess, this is Mary. She’s giving Sunday-morning swimming a whirl.’
‘Hello, Jess.’ I knew that voice! ‘We’re friends already, aren’t we?’
I nodded uncertainly, still not quite able to place her – I couldn’t see her very clearly without my glasses. I didn’t think I’d met any Marys – so how did I know her?
She laughed. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who I am! We meet up five days a week.’
‘Oh my goodness, you’re Miss Oliver! Cam, this is Miss Oliver, my teacher!’ It was so surprising to see her in the swimming pool, with her hat covering up her blonde hair.
‘Well, what a lovely coincidence,’ said Cam.
‘So you’re Tracy Beaker’s mother!’ said Miss Oliver.
‘Well, I was her foster mother – and we’re certainly a family now. So I suppose you’ve met Tracy at parents’ evenings?’
‘Yes, I’ve met her,’ said Miss Oliver. ‘She’s … unforgettable.’
‘Miss Oliver says Mum has Anger Issues,’ I said.
Miss Oliver went as red as a peony. ‘That was very rude of me,’ she said apologetically.
‘But accurate,’ said Cam, grinning. ‘Oh dear, I hope Tracy didn’t have a royal strop.’
‘She was just concerned about Jess – she thought she’d been bullied by one of the boys,’ said Miss Oliver quickly. ‘She’s a very caring mother.’
‘Yes, she is,’ Cam and I said in unison.
‘And of course her circumstances have now changed considerably,’ Miss Oliver added.
‘Yes, worst luck,’ I said.
‘You’re starting to shiver, Jess. Why don’t you do another couple of lengths to warm up? You’re such a good swimmer!’ said Miss Oliver.
So I swam off, and Cam and Miss Oliver went on nattering. I think it was about me.
Then we all got out of the pool and showered. I couldn’t help peeping at Miss Oliver in her black swimsuit, though I knew it was very rude of me. You don’t often get a chance to see your teacher with hardly any clothes on. It was surprising seeing Miss Oliver with her clothes on too, because she was wearing jeans and a jumper, and she didn’t look a bit like a teacher any more.
Cam and Miss Oliver were acting like they were old friends. They suggested we go and have coffee in the café. I wanted to get back to Alfie, but I had to go too. I didn’t have coffee, I had a strawberry milkshake, my favourite.
‘It was always your mum’s favourite too,’ said Cam.
‘Still is,’ I said.
I concentrated on my milkshake, and then I played around with the dregs at the bottom of the glass, sucking them into my straw and then blowing them out again. Normally both Cam and Miss Oliver would have told me off, but they were too busy talking to each other. They weren’t chatting about me now, they were talking about the badminton sessions at the leisure centre, and then about Miss Oliver’s rambling club, then some history series on television, and then they got on to some box set they’d both been watching, and then their favourite books.
I grew more and more anxious about Alfie. It was getting too much for me.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt, Cam, but please can we go soon? Alfie’s bound to be awake now, and maybe Jax won’t remember that he needs to be taken out for his wee,’ I gabbled.
‘Yes, OK, sorry. And stop dribbling into your milkshake, it’s revolting! We’d better get going, Mary,’ said Cam.
‘Maybe see you next Sunday?’ said Miss Oliver. ‘And I’ll see you tomorrow, Jess.’
‘I really like Mary,’ said Cam when we were driving back. ‘What’s she like as a teacher?’
‘She’s
nice – though very strict. You can’t mess around in her class. Even Tyrone does as he’s told,’ I said.
‘Quite right too,’ said Cam.
When we got home Alfie was wide awake, and it turned out that Jax had taken him out into the garden twice already, and given him a very large breakfast with extra treats. Alfie liked Jax so much that he just gave me a quick hello lick and then bounded back to her, staring up at her lovingly.
I love Alfie to bits, but I wish he wasn’t quite so fickle.
I TOLD MUM that Cam and I had met Miss Oliver at the leisure centre.
She pulled a face. ‘Poor you!’
She’s never really liked my teachers. She didn’t get on with any of her teachers when she was young. She especially disliked the one called Mrs Vomit Bagley – though surely that can’t have been her real name. I think Mum has Teacher Issues.
I’ve always liked my teachers. I liked Miss Oliver even more now. I felt weirdly shy going to school on Monday. I wasn’t sure how to talk to her any more. Was she a friend? But Miss Oliver greeted me in her usual cool, calm way, making it perfectly plain that at school she had to be treated like a teacher.
I decided not to tell Tyrone about our encounter at the leisure centre, even though I knew he’d be interested – he’d probably fall about laughing if I told him I’d seen her in her swimsuit. I knew he’d blab to all his mates, and soon everyone would be sniggering and it would be awful for Miss Oliver.
So I held my tongue and felt very grown up and discreet. At the end of school Miss Oliver gave me a secret little nod to show that she was pleased with me. She also asked if I’d be interested in going to swimming training on Tuesday evenings after school.
‘But I already know how to swim, Miss Oliver,’ I said, rather put out. Hadn’t she seen me flashing up and down the pool?
‘I know you can swim, Jess. That’s the point. This is proper training for children with potential. The girls go to the leisure centre at five o’clock on Tuesdays. It’s called the Ariel Club.’
My Mum Tracy Beaker Page 17