It was no use getting cross with Alfie for being noisy and making a mess. He couldn’t help it. He was a dog, and all dogs behave like that. He just seemed a bit noisier and messier than most. And try as I might to keep him a secret, it looked as if quite a lot of people would be emailing the council about him.
In the middle of the night he started whimpering in his sleep – just tiny noises, and I knew he was probably just dreaming of chasing squirrels – but the sad sound broke my heart. I crawled carefully out of bed, worried about waking Mum because she’d been tossing and turning, and it had taken her a very long time to fall asleep. I scrunched up really small and lay down on the cushion with Alfie, curling myself right round him. He licked my hand happily, squirmed into the comfiest position possible and went back to sleep. I wasn’t at all comfortable, but Alfie had stopped whimpering. It was cold without any covers, but Alfie was as warm as a hot-water bottle so I cuddled him close.
Perhaps I whimpered in my dreams too because much later I woke up to find Mum tucking the duvet over me and then stroking my hair.
‘Go back to sleep, darling,’ she whispered.
‘Sing to me, Mum,’ I begged sleepily. She always used to sing when I couldn’t sleep.
‘Baby,’ she teased, but she quietly sang all my favourites: ‘How Much Is That Doggie in the Window?’, ‘Hound Dog’ and ‘Who Let the Dogs Out?’
I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up again, I could hardly move because I was so stiff. I had to shuffle to the bathroom like a little old woman. Mum was already up and washed and dressed, sitting at the table with a mug of black coffee, tapping away on her phone.
‘You’re not texting Sean Godfrey, are you?’ I asked.
‘No! I’m texting Cam to let her know we’re back here,’ said Mum. ‘And I’m asking if she’ll have Alfie today, while I go job hunting. I’ve checked our bank account and we’re OK for a bit, but I need to start earning now. Still, we’ll manage, you’ll see. Come here, sweetheart, let me give those shoulders a rub.’
I wriggled as Mum massaged me. She soothed most of the outside aches, but she couldn’t make all the knots of worry inside unravel. I hadn’t thought about money.
‘Maybe you should have kept your diamond ring. It was probably worth a lot of money.’
‘Yep, I could have sold it and had enough money to keep us going for ages,’ said Mum. ‘I’ve still got the keys to Sean’s house. Shall I sneak back and grab it?’
‘Yes, do it!’ I said – but she was only joking.
‘No, we’re going to manage by ourselves,’ she said. ‘Right, let’s make you and Alfie some breakfast. It’ll be a bit weird because I haven’t been to the shops yet.’
It was actually quite a good breakfast. I had dry cornflakes because we didn’t have any milk, but Mum let me sprinkle raisins on them for a treat. Then she found a tin of peaches and shared them with me.
‘I’m not having my girl going to school hungry,’ she said.
She didn’t let her Alfie go hungry either. At the back of the cupboard she found an old can of mince and gave him a few spoonfuls. Alfie was very appreciative and wolfed it down quickly.
‘He loves it, Mum! Could he have a little bit more?’ I asked.
‘No, that’s enough for now. I’ll make a cottage pie for our supper with the rest. We have to be dead economical until I get a job.’
‘Can’t you just go back to looking after Ava and Alice?’ I asked.
‘I texted Marina earlier,’ said Mum, ‘but she said she was ever so sorry but she wanted to keep Marie-Thérèse now.’
‘That’s so mean when you had the job first!’ I said. ‘And you’re her friend.’
‘She tried to be kind. She offered me some money to keep me going.’
‘Did you say yes?’
‘No, of course not! We don’t need anyone else to keep us going, Jess. We’re Beakers. We’re going to stand proud and be independent,’ said Mum.
I didn’t feel I was standing proud when I went into school. My legs were so wobbly I wasn’t sure they could support me. Everyone was staring – they all knew already. Some were nudging each other and whispering stuff about me, their eyes gleaming. Some looked concerned, and several of the girls actually came and put their arms round me. That was somehow worse.
‘It’s OK,’ I kept saying. ‘We’re fine. It’s good to be back home. It wasn’t that great at Sean Godfrey’s.’
They rolled their eyes pityingly, not believing a word of it.
Even Miss Oliver knew. Maybe Cam had texted her. She didn’t say much, but she patted me lightly on the shoulder as she walked past my desk, and at lunchtime she beckoned me over for a little word.
‘How are you doing, Jess?’ she asked.
‘I’m fine, Miss Oliver,’ I said.
‘That’s good. And Mum?’
‘She’s fine too. She’s going to sort everything out and show Sean Godfrey that we’re fine without him.’
‘I’m sure she will. She’s a woman of great character, your mum,’ said Miss Oliver.
She looked out for me in the playground too. The other kids kept going on about Sean Godfrey, asking why he’d broken it off with Mum.
‘He didn’t! She dumped him!’ I insisted, but they wouldn’t believe me.
Tyrone still didn’t believe me either, which was dead irritating seeing as he was supposed to be my friend. He went on and on about Sean Godfrey until my ears shrivelled at the sound of his voice.
‘Will you stop it!’ I burst out, and ran off to the Peace Garden. I sat on the bench by myself, wondering how Mum was getting on. I was worrying about Alfie too, though I knew Cam would make a fuss of him. I was missing him dreadfully. I tried to summon up Wolfie and Faithful and Pom-Pom and Snapchat for comfort, but they wouldn’t come alive properly. They were pale shadows of themselves, scarcely visible in the sunlight. I tried whistling their magic tune. That had always made them come running, but now they stayed as still as statues, not a bark, not a lick from any of them.
‘That’s a pretty tune,’ said Miss Oliver, coming into the garden and sitting down beside me. ‘I didn’t know you could whistle, Jess.’
‘Mum taught me,’ I said. ‘I can do a wolf-whistle too. Want to hear it?’
‘Maybe not just now,’ she said.
We didn’t say very much more, but it was comforting sitting together all the same. I wasn’t the slightest bit scared of Miss Oliver now. You can’t really be in awe of anyone once you’ve seen them in their swimsuit.
Mum was late coming to collect me. Not just five minutes late – more like fifteen. I stood there by the school gate, nibbling the skin on my bottom lip, wondering where she was. What else had gone wrong? Had Alfie run away? Had our flat been vandalized as well as our old car? Had Mum gone back to Sean Godfrey?
I fidgeted from one foot to the other, banging my thighs with my clenched fists. I closed my eyes and counted to a hundred, but when I looked at the road again, I couldn’t see the Cadillac. What if Mum had had an accident? Maybe she’d started crying again and her eyes were too blurry to see properly and she’d smashed the car.
My tummy was so tight and painful I had to bend over.
‘Jess?’ Miss Oliver was standing beside me.
‘My tummy hurts,’ I said, straightening up gingerly.
‘You poor thing. Try taking a few deep breaths.’
‘Mum’s late,’ I said, sucking in my breath.
‘Breathe through your nose, not your mouth! Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s probably just got held up in traffic.’
And just as Miss Oliver was saying this I saw a gleam of pink in the distance. I breathed in, I breathed out, my tummy unknotted, and Mum drew up beside us.
She was looking anxious. ‘I’m so sorry, Jess. Was she getting in a state, Miss Oliver? I know I shouldn’t park here, but I needed to get to her as soon as possible.’
‘That’s all right, Ms Beaker – Tracy. I was just keeping Jess company.’ Miss O
liver paused. ‘I’m sorry things didn’t work out,’ she added softly.
‘Oh well,’ said Mum, shrugging. ‘That’s life. You’re dancing along on a gold pavement, and then suddenly – whoops – there’s the banana skin.’
‘I’m sure you’ll be dancing again soon,’ said Miss Oliver. ‘You and Jess, doing your own two-step.’
I didn’t quite follow all this dancing stuff, but they smiled at each other.
‘Thanks for staying with Jess anyway, Miss Oliver,’ said Mum.
‘I’m Mary out of school,’ she said.
‘Thanks, Mary,’ said Mum, and she nodded at Miss Oliver, while I blinked in surprise.
‘Are you making friends with Miss Oliver, Mum?’ I asked when we drove off.
‘Looks like it,’ she said.
‘She’s Cam’s friend as well.’
‘I know. Cam told me.’
‘She’s my friend too. Out of school.’
‘Hey, guess what, Jess,’ said Mum. ‘I’ve got a job already! I told you I would, didn’t I?’
‘Oh, Mum, you’re brilliant! What is it?’
‘It’s not that brilliant. I’m going to be working in a café near the bus station – it’s called the Silver Spoon. As opposed to Greasy. I went there for a cup of coffee at lunchtime, as I’d been all round the shopping centre looking for jobs without any luck at all. It was a bit humiliating really. One clothes shop was advertising for an assistant – and this girl half my age looked me up and down and said, “Oh dear, I don’t think you’re really the right type for this sort of work.”’
‘What a cheek!’ I said loyally.
‘Well, she’s probably right,’ said Mum. ‘I tried two shoe shops and a Waterstones and a Paperchase, with no luck, and then I started tramping the High Street. I saw an advert on the back of a bus saying they needed more drivers, and I thought it might be cool to be a bus driver – but when I went to the station they said that once I’d been trained I’d have to do shift work, and I explained I couldn’t do that with a child at home. So then I felt a bit fed up and went to the café, and they were rushed off their feet, and I said to the old guy behind the counter that it looked like they needed more staff, and what about taking me on. And he has, just like that! That’s why I’m so late picking you up – I’ve been working the last three hours! They’ve taken me on for a month’s trial. The money’s not great, but it’ll keep us going – and I dare say I’ll get a few leftover sandwiches to take home for our tea.’
‘And leftover cake?’ I asked hopefully. ‘Oh, Mum, well done!’
Cam gave Mum a big hug when we got to her place. She gave me a hug too. We sat on the sofa, one on either side of her, and she put an arm round each of us.
‘My girls,’ she said.
‘Oh, Cam,’ said Mum. ‘Do you think I’m crazy leaving Sean?’
‘No, I think he’s the crazy one, playing around behind your back.’
‘I’ve got a job in a café,’ said Mum, ‘but the hours are eight till four. How will I manage with Jess and school? And what about Alfie? I can’t take him to the café, and the council are going to come after us soon anyway, because we’re not allowed pets – but it will break Jess’s heart if we can’t keep him.’
‘Yes, it will,’ I said, and I clutched Alfie close. I had a tight pain in my chest, as if my heart had started cracking already.
‘Hey, stop the wailing, you two,’ said Cam. ‘You know perfectly well we’ll get everything sorted out. Perhaps there’s a breakfast club at Jess’s school. And some kind of homework club? I’ll look after Alfie. He’s been no trouble at all today. Well, apart from a little accident. And a sneaky bite of my cheese and onion pasty. Still, he made our sad Rosie laugh, and that was marvellous.’
‘You’re a star, Cam,’ said Mum.
‘That’s ever so kind of you, Cam – but he would still be my dog, wouldn’t he?’ I asked.
‘Of course. I’ll just be his foster mum. I’m good at that,’ she said.
I hung onto Alfie as long as I could, but when the dreaded letter from the council came saying we were in breach of our tenancy and had to get rid of our dog, I packed his cushion and ball and tuggy toy and all his food, and we took him to Cam’s.
I cried all the way home, though I knew I was going to see him the very next day. It was all fixed. After school Mum took me to Cam’s, and I made a gigantic fuss of Alfie, and then took him for a long walk and gave him his supper.
‘You do know you’re still my dog, Alfie?’ I said.
Alfie bounded round me and licked my knees to show me that of course he knew.
I didn’t go to the breakfast club, even though Mum had to drop me off at school at half past seven. I went to my own private breakfast club with Miss Oliver! She always liked to come into school early to prepare all her lessons, so I sat in the classroom with her. I helped tidy the stationery cupboard, and sharpen all the crayons, and check that the library books were in alphabetical order, and feed Sweetcorn, the class hamster. Then Miss Oliver made a cup of tea for both of us, and we had marmalade sandwiches, just like Paddington.
During class time Miss Oliver was my teacher, but before school she was my friend, and on Sunday morning, while Mum was having a lie-in, I went swimming with Miss Oliver and Cam.
Tyrone jeered at me for being a teacher’s pet, but I didn’t care. We weren’t really friends any more now – he just went on about Sean Godfrey all the time, which was really annoying.
‘Can’t you get it into your head that I can’t stick Sean Godfrey?’ I said. ‘And neither can my mum. We’re much better off without him.’
‘You’re mad, Jess Beaker,’ said Tyrone. ‘Sean says you’re mad too, you and Tracy Beaker. He says he’s better off without you. Sean’s my mate now. He calls me Buddy. He doesn’t call any of the other boys that.’
It was probably because Sean Godfrey couldn’t remember his real name, but I was pleased to hear that Tyrone still went to his club. However, that didn’t mean I wanted to hear him showing off about it all the time.
Fred and Margie at the Silver Spoon wanted Mum to work on Saturdays too. I went to Cam’s, where I could spend all day with Alfie, and that was bliss. Alfie followed me around everywhere. He even insisted on coming into the loo with me. He made it plain that he was OK living with Cam and the girls, but he’d much, much rather be with me.
But then, the next Saturday, Miss Oliver asked Cam if she’d like to join her at her rambling club.
‘Rambling?’ said Mum. ‘With a lot of old folk with bobble hats and socks outside their trousers and pointy sticks?’
‘Yes, and when I get my own pointy stick I’ll give you a good poke with it,’ said Cam. ‘OK, OK, don’t tease. I just fancied the idea, that’s all.’
‘I don’t think it’s the rambling you fancy,’ said Mum, and Cam went pink.
‘We were thinking Jess and Alfie could come too. It’ll be too far for Jess – they walk all day – but we could come home on the bus at lunchtime.’
‘No, Jess can come to the Silver Spoon with me. She can be our Saturday girl. Margie won’t mind, she loves kids,’ said Mum, ‘but she draws the line at dogs.’
So on Saturday Alfie went off hiking with Cam and Miss Oliver, and I went to the Silver Spoon with Mum.
‘You don’t mind Jess, do you? She’s a good little kid and great at helping out,’ said Mum. ‘She can butter the bread for the sandwiches and spread the fillings and do a bit of waitressing. She never spills anything.’
‘What a little love!’ said Margie, giving me a hug. ‘Look at you! Spitting image of your mum. You’ve even got her lovely curly hair.’
I decided I liked Margie. She was an old lady with a flowery apron over her jumper and trousers. Her own hair was rather thin and straggly, but she wore a lot of bright red lipstick to look cheerful.
I didn’t like Fred anywhere near as much. He could wear all the lipstick in the world and he’d never look cheerful. He was small and thin, with a frowny, pin
ched face. He frowned even more when he peered at me.
‘She can’t help out. Child labour’s not allowed. We’ll be reported to Health and Safety,’ he said.
‘Well, OK, she can sit at a table and read a book or do some drawing,’ said Mum. ‘She’s brought a satchel of stuff with her.’
‘Oh, the pet!’ said Margie.
‘Tables are for customers,’ said Fred.
‘Well, Jess can be a blooming customer,’ said Mum, starting to get angry. ‘I’ll buy her a cup of tea every hour – how about that?’
‘It’s still not right. You can’t take a kiddie in to work with you.’
‘Well, I have, so you’ll have to put up with it.’
‘You watch your tone, Tracy. You’re only here on trial, you know.’
‘Lighten up, Fred,’ said Margie. ‘Little Jess won’t be no trouble.’
I tried to squash myself into a corner and look harmless. I was scared Fred might sack Mum on the spot and it would all be my fault. None of the customers seemed to mind me being there. Margie had a little cluster of regulars, mostly old ladies like her, and they made a beeline for my little table at the back and talked to me. One of them even insisted on buying me a big jam doughnut.
When I didn’t have anyone to talk to I read The Hundred and One Dalmatians, and then I did some drawing. I copied one of the Dalmatian pictures – though I didn’t attempt a hundred and one of them. Next I drew Alfie running, Alfie sitting up and begging, Alfie lying on his back, Alfie asleep. I hoped he wasn’t getting tired out on his long ramble.
By this time I was getting a bit tired of drawing, so I just sat and watched people. I liked seeing Mum dashing around chatting to the customers as she served them. She was very popular with the bus drivers when they popped in for a fry-up and a cup of tea. She was always quick with the banter – and she piled their plates up high: three rashers, two eggs, two sausages, fried tomatoes, baked beans, black pudding and hash browns. They cheered when they saw their plates – but Fred frowned.
My Mum Tracy Beaker Page 22