Diamond Girls

by Jacqueline Wilson

  ‘You’re the eldest.’

  ‘I’m not going to be here much longer. Then you’ll be the eldest. See how you like it.’ Martine marched off upstairs, still texting.

  ‘OK, I’m in charge now,’ said Jude. ‘You’re not allowed out the house, Rochelle, do you hear me?’

  ‘I hear you. I can hardly help hearing you, you’re bellowing right in my ear,’ said Rochelle. ‘But I don’t have to do what you say.’

  ‘She’s talking sense, Roxanne,’ said Bruce. ‘You can’t go off by yourself. You’re not old enough.’

  Rochelle stood up, tossing back her golden curls. ‘Number one – my name is Rochelle. Number two – I’m a teenager, very nearly, and can do what I please. Number three – you certainly can’t boss me about, Mr Weirdo Guy.’ She flounced out of the room.

  ‘I’ll tell Mum,’ Jude called.

  ‘And I’ll tell Mum you’ve been fighting,’ Rochelle yelled.

  She slammed right out of the front door, banging it hard. There was a second of silence. Then we heard the baby start wailing.

  ‘Shall we tell Mum?’ I asked.

  ‘I think so,’ said Jude.

  ‘I know so,’ said Bruce. ‘I’ll tell her, and then I’d better go after Miss Fancy Pants, though she certainly won’t thank me for it.’

  He knocked on the living-room door and then tried to go in. Mum was starting to change Sundance. She told Bruce to go away. She used short, sharp words.

  Bruce looked very put out when he came back. ‘Your mum was very rude to me,’ he said.

  ‘She’s not herself,’ I said quickly.

  ‘I’m only trying to help,’ said Bruce. ‘Roxanne – Rochelle – whatever – shouldn’t be strutting round an estate like this all by herself. Look what happened to Jude, and she’s older and got a lot more sense.’

  Jude looked pleased at this. ‘Let’s go after her in your van, Bruce.’

  I went with them. We drove up and down Mercury Street. Our end was the worst, with many of the houses boarded up. Some of the houses at the other end had curtains at the windows and neat grass at the front. Several even had flowers and little white picket fences.

  ‘Maybe it’s not too bad round here after all,’ said Bruce.

  Then he drove through the tower-block entrance. We looked up at the stained concrete and rusted railings, up and up and up, to the very top.

  ‘I wonder if you can get out on the roof?’ said Jude.

  ‘I’ve just said you were a girl with common sense,’ said Bruce. ‘How could you have such a crazy idea?’

  ‘I went up on the roof heaps of times in our old flats,’ said Jude. ‘It was my territory.’

  Some boys went rattling past on skateboards, bashing on the van and making rude signs at us.

  ‘It looks like it’s their territory, Jude, like it or lump it. You try going up those stairs again and they’ll likely toss you right over the balcony.’

  ‘Wait till I get the hang of this Wing Chun,’ Jude muttered. ‘I’ll go anywhere I want and no one will dare lift a finger.’

  ‘Dream on, girl,’ said Bruce. ‘There’s a limit, even with martial arts. It’s fine in the movies – Bruce Lee can take on any number of opponents and chop-chop-chop-kick they all go flying. Their weapons hurtle up into the air and circle back and they get sliced to ribbons with their own swords. But it’s fantasy, Jude. A little game of Let’s Pretend.’

  I was playing my own game of Let’s Pretend. I played Bruce was our real uncle and he was taking us out for a drive in his van and we were going to Disneyland, a brand-new one conveniently situated down the road and round the corner. We’d hurtle up Space Mountain and whiz round the Indiana Jones ride and all the other stuff the kids at my old school showed off about. I’d maybe get a little bit scared. Uncle Bruce would sit me on his knee and tell me he’d look after me, and I didn’t have to worry about anything any more. I didn’t have to worry about my new friend Mary, I didn’t have to worry about my mum, I didn’t have to worry about any of my sisters – not even my brand-new baby sister in her blue boys’ outfits.

  When we were done with all the rides we’d go and have tea in McDonald’s, and Uncle Bruce wouldn’t nag me about eating meat; he’d buy me a portion of french fries and I’d share them chip for chip with Bluebell.

  I thought of Bluebell without her head. I could see the stuffing, the sad dead body.

  I couldn’t tell.

  But what if something bad really happened to Rochelle?

  ‘I don’t think Rochelle’s round here,’ I said. ‘I have a feeling she might just be in McDonald’s.’

  ‘You have a feeling?’ said Jude. ‘Oh, Dixie, you’re impossible. Why didn’t you say?’

  ‘You hate telltales.’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s only if you tell tales on me,’ said Jude. ‘You must always always always snitch on Rochelle because she’s so stupid she’ll get up to anything. So why McDonald’s? Is she meeting someone there? Dixie, tell!’

  ‘She said she’d tear Bluebell’s head off if I did,’ I said, clutching Bluebell tight in both hands. I could feel her small bird-heart beating under her feathers. She gave tiny cheeps of terror.

  ‘I won’t let her, don’t worry, Dixie,’ said Bruce.

  ‘She is meeting someone?’

  I wriggled my shoulders. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘But she doesn’t know anyone here.’ Then Jude clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh God. Not the guy with the earring, the one I beat up?’

  Jude didn’t beat up any of them the way I remembered it, but maybe she liked pretending too. I nodded.

  ‘I can’t believe she could be such an idiot! And you’re an idiot too, Dixie, keeping quiet about it.’

  ‘Hey, hey, that’s unfair! It’s not Dixie’s fault,’ said Bruce.

  He drove out of the Mercury block, passing Neptune and Mars and Saturn and Venus and Jupiter, all as towering and terrifying. He headed towards the town.

  ‘It’s quite a walk. Rochelle was wearing her wibble-wobble heels. Maybe she won’t have got there yet,’ said Jude. She reached over and took hold of my hand. ‘Sorry, Dix. Of course it’s not your fault.’

  ‘Do you think he might hit her, like the boys hit you, Jude?’

  ‘No,’ said Jude, though she didn’t sound sure.

  ‘Might he do worse things?’ I whispered.

  ‘Stop it,’ said Bruce. ‘You’re just frightening yourselves. He’s not going to do anything untoward in McDonald’s, for goodness’ sake.’

  ‘But he could take her off anywhere afterwards,’ said Jude. ‘Can’t we go any quicker?’

  ‘It’s not going to help if I get done for speeding,’ said Bruce, but he put his foot down on the accelerator.

  We drove round the streets in the town centre, Jude staring at one side, me the other, straining to see the familiar golden M.

  ‘There it is!’ I cried.

  Bruce parked the van on a double yellow line while Jude and I went running inside. There was no sign of Rochelle. I chewed on my fingers, panicking. Jude spotted a sign to the seating upstairs. She went rushing up and up, past the toilets and into the big room above. I went charging after her.

  We saw Rochelle sitting in the corner, side by side with Ryan. Their heads were close. They were gazing into each other’s eyes. Rochelle had her favourite McFlurry ice cream but her spoon was poised in mid-air. She was obviously so entranced she was forgetting all about eating. Ryan didn’t look at all like he wanted to hit her or hurt her. He was gazing at her as if she was a princess with a jewelled crown on top of her long fair hair. Rochelle and Ryan seemed to shine in their own little spotlight, as if the McDonald’s yellow arch was giving out its own golden glow.

  I stopped still. I felt we should tiptoe away. Jude hesitated too, but then she marched over to them.

  ‘Leave my sister alone!’ she yelled, though Ryan wasn’t even touching Rochelle.

  ‘Oh God, it’s not you again,’ said Ryan. ‘What your problem?’
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  ‘Take no notice of her. She’s just my crazy sister,’ said Rochelle. She spotted me hovering in the background. ‘And there’s my other crazy sister who’s going to be very very sorry she’s told on me.’

  ‘Come home at once, Rochelle,’ Jude shouted, a little too loudly. Everyone upstairs in McDonald’s was starting to stare at us.

  ‘We haven’t got a home any more,’ said Rochelle. ‘I don’t want to go back to that messy dump, thanks very much.’

  ‘You’re coming home now,’ said Jude, tugging at Rochelle’s arm.

  ‘Leave her be!’ said Ryan.

  ‘Don’t take any notice of her. I suppose she just can’t help being jealous,’ said Rochelle smugly.

  ‘How dare you!’ said Jude, tugging harder.

  Rochelle tried to pull free. Jude hung on grimly. Rochelle’s arm got a little bit twisted. She started shrieking loudly.

  ‘Don’t you dare try to push me about!’ said Jude, letting go of Rochelle. She squared up to Ryan. She did her best to position herself feet apart, knock-kneed, all set to trap her goat. ‘So you want a fight, do you? Come on, then!’

  ‘I don’t want to fight you. I don’t fight girls. Especially not Rochelle’s sisters,’ said Ryan.

  Rochelle fluttered her eyelashes at him adoringly. Jude was left hovering above them, at a loss.

  ‘Just go home, Jude. I’m fine. Ryan’s going to see me home. I won’t be late. There’s no need to get so worked up. You’re just making a complete fool of yourself,’ said Rochelle.

  ‘Jude, please, let’s go back to Uncle Bruce,’ I begged.

  ‘Yes, both of you bog off back to creepy Uncle Weirdo,’ said Rochelle.

  ‘He’s not creepy Uncle Weirdo!’ I shouted. ‘Don’t you dare call him that!’

  Rochelle dared say worse things.

  I flew at her, beating her chest and pulling her long golden hair. Rochelle yelled her head off.

  ‘Oi, that’s enough! Out of here!’ yelled the McDonald’s security guy.

  He seized me in one big hand, Jude in the other, and dragged us both across the room and down the stairs.

  Bruce came rushing in the entrance, looking anxious. ‘What are you doing with these girls? Don’t drag them like that!’ he said to the McDonald’s man.

  ‘You should look after your kids properly. Sisters, are they? Fancy attacking that pretty little girl upstairs!’

  ‘Oh Jude!’ said Bruce, shaking his head at her.

  ‘It’s the little one who’s the real spitfire,’ said the McDonald’s man. ‘Going at it hell for leather!’

  ‘Dixie?’ said Bruce.

  Then he saw a traffic warden coming along the road. ‘Uh-oh! Quick, or I’ll get a ticket. Are you going to let the girls go now?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that. I could call the cops.’

  ‘No, wait!’ It was Rochelle, running up to us. ‘Look, they’re crazy, both of them, and I hate them to bits, but they’re my sisters, so you won’t actually arrest them, will you?’

  ‘Oh for pity’s sake – look, just go home with your dad, all of you.’

  ‘He’s not our dad!’ said Rochelle.

  ‘I’m jolly glad I’m not!’ said Bruce. ‘Come on, get in the van quick. You too, Rochelle.’

  She argued bitterly, not wanting to leave Ryan.

  Jude slammed into the van too, still furious. ‘Fat lot of use learning Wing Chun defence when stupid guys won’t try to hit you,’ she muttered.

  ‘Just as well he didn’t take a swing at you. You’re a natural, picking things up a treat, but you’ve got to train for months and months, girl, I told you that. Maybe we can find a proper club round here. Perhaps you’d better join too, Dixie! Were you really fighting?’

  ‘I only fought a little bit,’ I said. ‘You know you said you were glad you’re not our dad? Well, what about being our uncle?’

  ‘I’ll always want to be your uncle, Dixie, even if you get into more fights than Lennox Lewis,’ said Bruce, chuckling. ‘Just don’t take a swing at me, that’s all I ask.’

  13

  WHEN WE GOT back to Mercury Street I shut my eyes tight. I wished so hard I thought my head would burst. I wished that all the houses were whole and neat and newly painted with flowery gardens. I wished our house was the brightest and the best, with fairy lights hanging in the windows, roses rambling round our door, and a fountain in the front garden with a little marble mermaid spouting water into a turquoise pool.

  I wished our house was beautiful inside, with satin curtains and velvet sofas and Persian rugs. I wished we’d find Mum dancing around in her slinky skirt and stilettos, all bouncy and bubbly, the way she used to be. I wished we’d find Sundance kicking his little legs on his blue changing mat, nappy off to show his little willy. I wished that my dad was there on a visit. He had a brand-new beautiful cardigan for me, a black one that wouldn’t show the dirt, embroidered all over with little red hearts to prove how much he loved me. He’d put it on me and hug me and promise he was going to come and see me every single day for the rest of my life.

  I wished Bluebell was real and flying freely round and round the garden. I wished Mary could come and play in our garden too, and run around roaring with laughter, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, free of those tight little plaits. I thought of that little blue vein throbbing in her forehead. I knew I should do something.

  ‘Are you asleep, Dixie?’ Bruce asked, patting me on the shoulder. ‘Come on, lovey, out the van. We’re home.’

  ‘Do you believe wishes can ever come true, Uncle Bruce?’

  ‘I’d give anything to make your wishes come true, little ’un, but I’m not magic.’

  However, Bruce had worked quite a lot of magic in the house already. It smelled clean and fresh with all his lovely white lilies and roses and freesias. Mum had stuck them here and there in the living room, but she’d not given any further thought to getting it straight. She was lying back on the mattress with Sundance, furniture and cardboard boxes still crammed tightly in a ring around her.

  Rochelle and Jude came crowding in, both of them complaining at the tops of their voices. Mum shut her eyes as if she was wishing too.

  ‘Mum! Aren’t you even listening? Jude just totally embarrassed me. She behaved like an idiot with Ryan, and then Dixie started attacking me.’

  ‘This Ryan is years older than Rochelle. She thinks she’s absolutely it because she’s got a boyfriend. She doesn’t have a clue. She’ll end up a teenage mum if she’s not careful. Tell her, Mum.’

  ‘Shut up, Jude,’ said Martine, coming into the room too. ‘What have you done to your nose? Have you been fighting again? Mum, look at her!’

  ‘Mum, should you tell on someone even if they beg you not to and say they’d get into trouble?’ I asked.

  ‘You should never ever tell. And you’re in big big trouble, you and your stupid bird,’ said Rochelle, snatching up my sleeve.

  ‘Mum! She’s got Bluebell!’

  ‘I’ll get her back,’ Jude yelled, making a grab at Rochelle.

  ‘Stop shouting, you two, you’ll wake the baby. Here, Mum, you need to lie down properly. I’ll mind the baby for you,’ said Martine.

  ‘No!’ Mum opened her eyes, blinking in the sudden brightness. ‘You leave him be. He’s fine with me. Look, will you all please push off. You’re doing my head in, all of you. I just want to be left in peace.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Sue, I’ll get them sorted,’ said Bruce.

  ‘I’ll sort them. I’m the oldest,’ said Martine. ‘I don’t know what’s up with you, Mum. You went on and on at me to come to this dump because you said you couldn’t manage without me and yet now you won’t let me do a blessed thing for the baby.’

  ‘You can get some of this furniture shifted and try to make the place halfway decent. I can’t stand lying with all this rubbish all around me,’ said Mum.

  ‘I’m not lifting all that stuff. It’s much too heavy. I’ll hurt myself,’ said Martine.

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nbsp; ‘Ooh, precious,’ Jude mocked. ‘I’ll move it, Mum.’

  ‘Who do you think you are, Jude? Ms Supergirl? You think you’re it, don’t you, charging round everywhere, throwing your weight about. You might have been looked up to back at Bletchworth but everyone just laughs at you here,’ said Rochelle.

  ‘Shut up, Rochelle,’ I said, grabbing Bluebell back. ‘Take no notice, Jude. I’ll help with the furniture.’

  ‘You’re not shifting anything, Dixie, you’re far too small. You’ll be the one who’ll hurt herself,’ Bruce said from the doorway. ‘Come on, girls, stop plaguing your mum. She’s still not well. Maybe we can try a bit of teamwork and get the furniture shifted all together.’

  ‘Can I be on your team, Uncle Bruce?’ I begged.

  ‘I’m going to be the boss, little ’un, getting you all organized. It’s about time too. You girls all need taking in hand.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ said Mum. ‘You’re the boss of my daughters? They need taking in hand, do they? And whose hand would that be, eh? Yours? What a badword cheek!’ She struggled up off the mattress and went striding over to him, hands on her hips, her big bosoms bouncing.

  ‘Now look, Sue, I didn’t mean anything,’ Bruce said nervously. ‘It was just a figure of speech. I just meant we needed to sort it out, moving the furniture, seeing as I daren’t do anything daft with my back.’

  ‘You and your bogging back,’ said Mum. ‘I reckon you just say that as an excuse because you’re bone idle, like all men. You’re fit enough to play silly beggars with my girls, teaching them this daft kung fu fiddlesticks. As if they need any encouragement fighting! You want to teach our Jude how not to fight, you daft pillock.’

  Bruce rocked backwards on his feet, blinking behind his glasses.

  ‘Don’t get upset, Uncle Bruce. Mum doesn’t really mean it, she’s just in a strop,’ I said, taking his hand.

  ‘I am not in a strop, you lippy little madam!’ Mum shouted. ‘Stop snuggling up to him, Dixie. He’s not your uncle, he’s practically a stranger.’

  Bruce let go my hand. ‘I was a stranger – and I’d have been very happy to keep it that way too. I was just helping out with the van at first, that was the deal. For a bit of spare cash, although the only cash that’s been spent so far has been my own. But I kind of got sucked into all this kerfuffle and so I tried to do the decent thing and help you and your girls. I didn’t start the uncle thing, it was all little Dixie’s idea. I was tickled pink as she’s a great little kid. Still, I can see it’s upsetting you, so we’ll stop it now. Blow my bad back, I’ll do my best to get your furniture upstairs and then I’ll be off. For good.’