My Mum Tracy Beaker

by Jacqueline Wilson

  SEAN GODFREY THOUGHT that Mum would be thrilled to be reunited with Justine. He said so at breakfast the next day.

  ‘Er – no!’ she said.

  ‘But you seemed to be getting on so well last night,’ he said.

  ‘Sean, we really, really, really have nothing in common, apart from the fact that we once lived in the same children’s home.’ Mum rolled her eyes.

  ‘OK, no need to snap at me,’ he said. ‘I thought she was a nice girl, anyway – and it’s clear she wants to be friends with you, Trace.’

  ‘No, I think she maybe wants to be friends with you, Sean,’ said Mum.

  ‘Do you think she likes me then?’ he asked, preening.

  ‘Yep – clearly another paid-up member of the Sean Godfrey fan club.’

  Rosalie chuckled as she stirred the scrambled egg and cut strips of smoked salmon.

  ‘Are you ladies ganging up on me?’ Sean Godfrey asked, draining his murky green juice. He was on a health kick now. ‘Here, I wish you’d try this, Tracy, it’s absolutely brimming with vitamins. It would do you good too, Jess. Put some roses in your cheeks.’

  ‘It looks like witch’s wee-wee,’ I murmured.

  Mum laughed. ‘Yes, it does!’

  ‘You shouldn’t encourage her,’ said Sean Godfrey. ‘She’s cheeky enough as it is. My mum would have knocked my block off if I’d come out with stuff like that. You button your lip, young Jess. And stop that wretched dog making such a stupid noise! He shouldn’t even be allowed in the kitchen.’

  Alfie was butting his head against Rosalie’s legs, whimpering hopefully. He’d discovered that smoked salmon was the most heavenly treat in the world.

  ‘Quit nagging her, Sean,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t see why Alfie can’t be in here with us. He’s part of the family.’

  Rosalie dished up our breakfasts – and gave Alfie a big strip of salmon when Sean Godfrey wasn’t looking.

  ‘What are your plans for today, babe?’ He ruffled Mum’s hair. ‘How about going to the hair salon, eh?’

  ‘No thanks,’ said Mum, jerking her head away. ‘What’s the matter with my hair anyway?’

  ‘Nothing! I love your curly mop. I just wondered if you might like it more …’ He gestured vaguely with his hand. ‘You know. Styled.’

  ‘I’m not that sort of woman,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t want to waste my day sitting in a hairdresser’s.’

  ‘It would give you something to do. I thought you said you were bored.’

  ‘I’m bored because I’m used to rushing around working. I’m going to have to get a job, Sean, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘You don’t need to do some crappy job,’ he said. ‘Especially not looking after someone else’s kids. Look, tell you what. Why don’t you work for yourself? Start up your own business like Justine. Yeah, that’s a great idea. She could give you some tips.’

  ‘I thought her business had gone bust,’ said Mum.

  ‘She’s got new ideas now, hasn’t she? Why don’t you have a think about it, Trace?’ said Sean Godfrey, getting up from the table and checking his watch.

  ‘OK, I’ll think about it. Do I want to start my own beauty product business? Now, let me see … It could be called Tracy – with a dinky little deadly-nightshade motif. Do I think it a good idea? Probably not.’

  ‘OK, OK, no need to take the mick. It doesn’t have to be a beauty product. What about some kind of sporty thing?’ Sean Godfrey peered at the green dregs in his glass. ‘A special health juice, say. I like that idea! Or ladies sportswear – little crop tops and leggings? I could sell them at the gym. Hey, I’m on a roll here!’

  ‘Well, try your ideas out on Justine then,’ said Mum.

  She was joking, but he took her seriously. ‘I might just do that!’ he said.

  Mum pushed her plate away and stood up. ‘You’d better not.’

  ‘Ooh-er!’ Sean Godfrey said, in a pantomime squeal. ‘Don’t say you’re just a teeny bit jealous of her.’ He was grinning, lapping it up.

  Mum walked over to him. She only comes up to his chest, but he took a step backwards.

  ‘You have anything more to do with Justine, and I walk,’ she said, in a calm but deadly voice. Then she swept out of the kitchen.

  There was a little silence.

  ‘She’s only joking,’ said Sean Godfrey.

  ‘I think she means it, Mr Sean,’ said Rosalie.

  ‘I know she means it,’ I said.

  ‘She knows which side her bread’s buttered,’ he muttered. ‘No one bosses me around and tells me what to do like that. Not even my Trace.’

  I glared at him. ‘She’s not yours!’ I shouted. ‘And she’s called Tracy, not Trace.’ I ran out of the room too, with Alfie following behind.

  Mum was putting on her jacket in the hall. ‘Come on, or you’ll be late for school,’ she said. She was trying to sound casual, but her voice was higher than usual and her face was very red.

  ‘Are you going to lose your temper, Mum?’ I asked tentatively.

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘But you mean it about Justine Littlewood?’

  ‘Yep.’

  She didn’t say anything else all the way to school. She drew up near the gate, where parents aren’t supposed to park. Miss Oliver was walking across the playground. She looked up and saw us.

  I thought she’d come charging over and tell us off – but she just shook her head slightly, then waved and smiled.

  ‘Wave back, Mum!’ I said. ‘She’s not just my teacher now, she’s Cam’s friend.’

  ‘There’s no accounting for taste,’ Mum muttered, but she waved apologetically and mouthed ‘Sorry’ about parking in the wrong place. ‘Jump out quick, Jess.’

  ‘Are you going to be all right, Mum?’ I asked anxiously.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said.

  I wasn’t so sure, but the bell went and I had to go into school. I hoped Alfie would be as good as gold. It wasn’t a great time for him to chew a cushion or make a puddle on the rug.

  Tyrone got on my nerves all day. He was still going on about his Monday session at Sean Godfrey’s gym, and he was not just over the moon, he was somersaulting over the entire Milky Way. It was Sean Godfrey this, Sean Godfrey that, and at lunchtime he kept demonstrating for me all the things Sean Godfrey had showed him in his training session. By the end of the day he’d dropped the Godfrey part and was calling him my mate Sean.

  Mum was still in a weird mood when she came to pick me up.

  ‘Are you OK, Mum?’ I asked, giving Alfie a cuddle. He seemed a bit subdued too.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said. ‘So, what did you make of Justine, Jess?’

  ‘I hated her,’ I said.

  ‘That’s my girl.’ Mum was quiet for a bit and then said, ‘But she’s attractive, isn’t she? In an obvious kind of way.’

  I wrinkled my nose.

  ‘I was wondering – do you think I should start wearing high heels? They’re dead uncomfortable but they’d make me look taller.’

  ‘I think they look stupid,’ I said, though I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to wear them myself. I sometimes walked around the bedroom on tippy toes, pretending.

  ‘Yes, I suppose. But you know Carly’s always nagging at me to stop wearing jeans? Do you think she’s right? I suppose I always look a bit of a scruff.’

  ‘Mum! Have you gone nuts? Do you want to look like Granny Carly?’

  ‘No!’ said Mum. But she still wasn’t finished. She glanced at herself in the driving mirror and then tried tucking her hair behind her ears. It sprang out again immediately. ‘I can’t do anything with it,’ she groaned.

  ‘We like having curly hair,’ I said, although that was a total fib too.

  ‘I suppose I could get it straightened,’ said Mum.

  ‘But then you wouldn’t look like you.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘And you’re Tracy Beaker,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I’m the only Tracy Beaker in the world. And y
ou’re the only Jess Beaker. We’re unique,’ Mum declared, cheering up. She put her foot down on the accelerator and we swooped off in our pink Cadillac.

  Sean was so late home that we’d already had our supper. Rosalie had bought chops and sausages and bacon and black pudding and mushrooms and tomatoes for a mixed grill – ‘one of Mr Sean’s favourites’, she told us before she went home. We were sick of eating so much meat, so Mum made us mushroom and tomato omelettes instead.

  They were very good, but my tummy was so tight I could only manage half of mine. Mum ate even less, and she kept looking at the kitchen clock. We didn’t even say Sean Godfrey’s name out loud, but we were both wondering where on earth he was.

  Then we heard the Porsche draw up outside. Mum was nibbling her lip, looking very pale. I hated seeing her so anxious. I wanted to fly at Sean Godfrey and yell at him – but he came waltzing in with a simply enormous bunch of red roses in one hand and a posy of pink rosebuds in the other.

  ‘Sorry I’m so late, girls,’ he said. ‘Problems at the gym – someone injured themselves and blamed the equipment – but it’s all sorted now. Huge apologies.’ He gave Mum her red roses with a flourish and then presented me with the posy.

  I couldn’t help feeling a little bit pleased. No one had ever given me flowers before. And they were so pretty. Mum’s roses had to be split up into four huge glass vases, but she put my posy into our lady Toby jug, where they looked beautiful.

  ‘What’s that lovely smell?’ said Sean Godfrey, wrinkling his nose like a rabbit.

  ‘The roses, stupid!’ said Mum. Then she looked anxious again because Sean Godfrey goes weird if you call him that – but he didn’t react at all.

  ‘Not the roses – there’s a lovely savoury smell. Have you been cooking, Trace?’

  ‘I just made Jess and me an omelette, that’s all,’ she said, shrugging.

  ‘How about making one for me, darling?’ he said, putting his arm round her.

  ‘OK. With some chops and stuff?’

  ‘I’ll skip the meat tonight. The medic at the gym said I should vary my sources of protein and not rely so heavily on red meat,’ said Sean Godfrey.

  So Mum made him an enormous omelette and he ate it enthusiastically, smacking his lips.

  ‘It’s really tasty, babe,’ he said. ‘Your mum’s a great cook, Jess.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. I paused. ‘She looks great too, doesn’t she?’

  Sean Godfrey did a pantomime peer, his hand over his eyebrows and his eyes scrunched up. ‘Yes, I think you’re right, kid. Your mum looks G-R-E-A-T!’

  ‘She’d look weird in a tight skirt and high heels, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘Well, she’d look great in anything – but I love her most in her funny jeans and T-shirts.’

  ‘Me too,’ I said, amazed that he was managing to say all the right stuff.

  ‘Have you two started up the Tracy Beaker fan club?’ said Mum.

  ‘We could!’ said Sean Godfrey. ‘Jess could be the number-one founder member. And I can be the number-two fan – with benefits.’

  Mum laughed, and I laughed too because I was so happy for her.

  Sean Godfrey carried on being lovely all through the Easter holidays. He stopped nagging about Alfie and started giving him little treats. And he even gave me my very own mobile phone!

  ‘But I said I didn’t want her to have one just yet,’ said Mum. ‘Maybe for her next birthday. And just a little pay-as-you-go one, not a proper smartphone.’

  ‘Well, I was in the shop anyway upgrading mine, and I just thought she’d like it. It’ll be useful. She can text all her friends now, be one of the in crowd,’ said Sean Godfrey. ‘It’ll be great, eh, Jess?’

  ‘You bet!’ I said. ‘Thank you very much, Sean.’ I thought it would seem very rude and ungrateful if I called him Sean Godfrey then. I just added it mentally.

  I tapped in the numbers of my favourite people, but Alice didn’t have a mobile phone so I couldn’t text her. I texted Mum, even though she was in the same room. I also texted a smiley emoji to Sean Godfrey, who was actually sitting beside me, showing me how to do it.

  The person I texted most was Cam. I sent her lots of messages and she replied – and if I couldn’t go to sleep at night I sometimes curled up with the duvet over my head and called her. It was lovely having a private chat with her. Though sometimes her phone was engaged.

  One night I tried and tried for nearly an hour before I got through.

  ‘Cam, you’ve been talking to someone for ages,’ I complained. ‘Were you on the phone to Mum?’

  ‘No, I don’t phone her in the evenings now, when she’s with Sean.’

  ‘Were you phoning Jane and Liz?’

  ‘No,’ said Cam. She sounded a bit cagey.

  ‘Were you phoning a care worker about one of your girls?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘So who was it?’

  ‘Honestly, Jess, stop being so nosy. I was simply chatting to a friend,’ said Cam.

  ‘Which friend?’

  ‘Well, it was Mary, if you must know.’

  ‘Mary? Miss Oliver? Why were you phoning her? Were you having a chat about me?’ I demanded.

  ‘Jess, you’re my favourite girl in all the world, but you’re not my only topic of conversation, you know. We were talking about all sorts of stuff. Mary was asking me about this book I’m writing. And I wanted the recipe for her ace banana cake – she made it when I went round to hers for tea.’

  ‘You went to tea with Miss Oliver?’ I asked, astonished. ‘At her house?’

  ‘No, we sat and had afternoon tea in a bus shelter,’ said Cam. ‘Of course we had tea at her place. Anyway, why have you phoned? Are you OK, Jess? And Mum? And Alfie?’

  ‘Yes, we’re fine.’

  ‘And things are OK with Sean?’

  ‘Well, they’re better than OK actually. He’s being ever so nice.’

  ‘That’s good,’ said Cam.

  ‘I might even have started liking him, just a little bit,’ I said.

  ‘So you’re settling down and it’s all working out just like a fairy tale? And the wicked ogre has turned into the handsome prince?’

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far!’ I said. ‘Cam, weren’t you and Miss Oliver talking about me even a bit?’

  ‘Perhaps just a tiny bit.’

  ‘She does like me, doesn’t she?’

  ‘I think you’re probably her favourite, though she’s too professional to admit it,’ said Cam.

  ‘Mum keeps going on about sending me to this school where you do drama and music,’ I said. ‘And it’s got its own swimming pool.’

  ‘Goodness! Well, maybe you’d like that.’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t want to leave my school. And maybe I wouldn’t like the swimming-pool part much. I’m one of the worst swimmers at the Ariel Club. I don’t think I’m going any more,’ I said.

  ‘Well, talk it over with your mum,’ said Cam. ‘It’s late now, sweetheart. Snuggle down and go to sleep. Night night.’

  I curled up, with Alfie on the end of my bed like a big furry hot-water bottle, and Woofer tucked into the crook of my neck.

  As I didn’t want to be in the Ariel Club any more Mum decided to go back to her kick-boxing class the next Tuesday.

  ‘I’ll just turn up at the gym and give Sean a surprise!’ she said. ‘I’m sure the kick-boxing is good for me. I hardly ever lose my temper nowadays. This is the brand-new Tracy Beaker – c-a-l-m!’

  Rosalie stayed late and looked after Alfie and me. She made a big fuss of us. We went for a walk all round the garden and threw the ball for Alfie and played tug with him. Then we had our tea – a lovely chicken-and-vegetable stew that had been simmering on the stove for ages.

  ‘Yum yum, Rosalie. I like it,’ I said.

  ‘It’s a special Filipino dish, Jess. Jane and Nick love it too – though he prefers McDonald’s,’ she said.

  ‘It must be so weird for you, not being with them,’ I said.

 
Rosalie nodded. ‘I just have to be patient. When they’re a little older we hope they can come here. My husband is expecting a promotion soon. And Mr Sean is always very generous to me.’

  ‘But it’s not fair! He’s got so much money and you’ve got hardly any! Don’t you ever get fed up?’ I asked, running my finger around my plate to scoop up the last of the sauce.

  ‘Don’t do that! Use a spoon. There’s no point thinking about what’s fair and what isn’t. Anyway, if I’d been a famous footballer, I’d have lots of money. Maybe I’d better start practising!’ Rosalie aimed a kick at Alfie’s ball and sent it skidding across the kitchen floor. It went right into the open cupboard. ‘Goal!’ she shouted, laughing.

  Mum came home looking a bit anxious. Rosalie had saved her a portion of chicken stew, but she said she didn’t feel like eating.

  ‘So why didn’t you come home with Sean Godfrey?’ I asked.

  ‘He wasn’t at the gym.’

  ‘So where was he?’

  ‘How do I know?’ said Mum. ‘He’s not answering his mobile either.’

  She didn’t sound very calm now. It looked like there was going to be a big row. A very, very, very big row.

  ‘Where on earth have you been?’ Mum demanded when Sean Godfrey came home at half past eight. ‘And don’t tell me you were down the gym because I know for a fact that you weren’t.’

  ‘Sorry, babe,’ he said, bending down and giving her curls a kiss, though Mum jerked away angrily. ‘I wasn’t at my gym, I was checking out another gym up west. It looks like it’s going to be up for sale soon, and I’m considering buying it. I’m thinking of starting up a whole chain of Sean Godfrey gyms. What do you think, eh?’

  ‘Why didn’t you answer your mobile?’

  ‘Because I was working out. See – my hair’s still wet from the shower. Lighten up, Trace! You’ve got a face like thunder,’ he said.