by Jean Ure
Quite suddenly, from somewhere inside my bag, my phone starts up. It startles me. Who can it be? Who has my number? Only Stevie! And, of course, Uncle Mark…I scrabble to get it out before it stops ringing.
Guardedly, I say, “Hello?”
I don’t recognise the voice at the other end. It’s a woman’s voice, very light and clear. “Is that Laurel?” it says. “Laurel, this is Andrea Stafford. I don’t know whether your mum ever mentioned me?”
I say no, she didn’t, hoping that it doesn’t sound rude. The name seems sort of familiar, though I can’t think why. I’m sure I never heard it from Mum.
I listen in bewilderment as this unknown person tells me how she and Mum used to be best friends when they were at uni. Why is she ringing me and where did she get my number?
“Your mum wrote me a letter,” she says. “Oh, ages ago! Months ago. But she sent it via my publishers and I’m afraid they’ve only just forwarded it to me. I just got it yesterday.”
Now I remember. The letter I faithfully promised Mum that I would put in the post, and never did. Not until it was too late. I ought to confess, but I don’t really know who this person is. She might be cross.
“Laurel,” she says, “I was devastated when I heard what had happened. Your mum and I were so close! Even though we lost touch, I have never, ever stopped thinking of her. As soon as I got the letter I tried telephoning, but there wasn’t any reply, so I rushed straight up here this morning, to your old address. that was when I discovered. Your neighbour – Miss Murray? She gave me the number of your mobile. In fact I’m here with her right now, I don’t know if you’d like to sp—”
And then the phone goes dead. No signal. I switch it off and sit staring. I still can’t quite make out who this woman is. Andrea. Mum never talked of anyone called Andrea. and imagine Stevie letting her into her house! Stevie never lets people into her house. She’ll be cross as hornets. I start to tremble and wonder what I am going to do if Stevie won’t let me stay. I can’t go back to Uncle Mark’s! Not now I’ve stolen Auntie Ellen’s money.
The phone rings again and cautiously I switch it on.
“Laurel?” It’s her again. Andrea. “Sorry, something happened. You cut out.”
“I’m on a train,” I say. “We went through a tunnel.”
“Oh! You’re travelling? This obviously isn’t a good time. Should I call you back later?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s all right. I’m…I’m on my way to Stevie!” I forget that she probably doesn’t know who Stevie is. “Could you tell her I’ve got Mr Pooter?”
“Mr Pooter?” She sounds surprised, but in a joyful kind of way. “He’s still with you? He must be such an old boy! Oh, I would so love to see him again!”
“Please can you tell Stevie?” I say.
“Stevie?” she says. “You mean Miss Murray? You’re bringing him here, to Miss Murray?”
“Yes!” I almost shout it down the telephone. “I’m rescuing him!”
There is a slight pause. I hear the muffled sound of voices. Then she says, “Laurel, where are you, exactly?”
I look out of the window and see the words KING’S CROSS slide by.
“Coming into the station,” I say.
“Which station?”
“King’s Cross.”
“And you’ve actually got Mr Pooter with you? In a basket?”
“In his box. Stevie gave it to me.”
“Right. OK! Now, look, here’s what we’d like you to do…we’d like you to jump in a cab and come straight here. Can you do that? If you can’t, just stay put and I’ll come and get you.”
I try not to be insulted at her thinking I might not be capable of finding a cab. She’s not to know I used to find them for Mum all the time. But I don’t have any money left! I tell Andrea this and she says not to worry. “I’ll pay for the cab. Just get yourself here.”
The train pulls in, and we stand waiting for the doors to open. I remember last time I was with Mum, when she couldn’t walk too well, how a kind man helped her off; how we made our way together, very slowly, across the station to the cab rank. Now I’m on my own, just me and Mr Pooter. It is a comfort to think that Mum’s friend is waiting for me at Stevie’s. I think it might be a bit scary, otherwise.
As soon as I am in the cab, I call Stevie’s number.
“Laurel Winton,” barks Stevie, “is that you? What on earth do you think you’re playing at?”
I tell her that I had to come. “They were going to get rid of Mr Pooter!”
Stevie just grunts. then Andrea comes on the phone. “Laurel, did you get a cab all right? Good girl! We’ll expect you in about twenty minutes.”
I try not to watch the meter ticking up as we sit in traffic. It was late in the evening when me and Mum travelled back in a taxi, and the streets were almost empty. Even then Mum joked that we would have to live on bread and water for a week. I wonder if Andrea knows how much it is going to cost, or whether she will be horrified, like Auntie Ellen was when she saw the vet’s bill. Maybe, I think to myself hopefully, she is rich and it won’t bother her.
As we turn into Gospel Road I feel a shiver run through me. I feel that I should be excited, as if I’m coming home; but Mum isn’t there, and it’s not my home any more. Someone who must be Andrea is waiting outside Stevie’s. She is tall and slim, with sleek black hair and piercing blue eyes. I feel that she is familiar, but I can’t think why. the minute she sees the taxi, she comes running to meet us.
“You got here! Thank goodness, I’ve been so worried. Oh, and there’s Mr Pooter! Just as I remember him…I’m Andi, by the way. Let me pay the cab, and we’ll go inside and talk.”
Andi. That’s the name inside Mum’s Diary of a Nobody.
“Let me have Mr Pooter!” She takes the carrying box from me. “How ever did you manage? He’s really heavy!”
Stevie is waiting at the front door. She looks cross. “All this coming and going! All this telephoning! Constant disruption. Well, come along, come along, don’t just stand there, letting my cats out. Get inside!”
I scuttle through the door, followed by Andi.
“What is all this nonsense?” demands Stevie, taking Mr Pooter out of his box. “Who’s trying to get rid of him?”
“Auntie Ellen,” I say. “ She doesn’t like him! He was sick on her carpet and now she doesn’t want him in the house any more. She says animals shouldn’t be in the house. She says it’s time he went, she’s not going to pay any more vet’s bills, it’s just a waste of money and—”
“And what? She’s going to get him put down? Over my dead body!” Stevie stumps off towards the kitchen, Mr Pooter in her arms. A gaggle of cats trail after her. “You two—” Stevie waves a hand, “in there and do your talking. Get things sorted. I don’t want to hear from you till you’ve done.”
Meekly, me and Andrea go into the front room. Cats stare at us from the sofa, from chairs, from the table. Andrea wrinkles her nose, and I do the same. We look at each other and pull faces. I’d forgotten how pongy it was.
“Well,” says Andrea. She holds out her arms; I’m not sure whether she expects me to go to her or not. “My little Lollipop, all grown up!”
Lollipop. She called me Lollipop! Only Mum called me that. I look at her, uncertainly.
“This letter,” she says. “I only wish I’d got it sooner! I’m afraid publishers are not always very good at sending things on.”
I pick up a stripy cat and sit with him on my lap. I think he’s Stripy Thomas, the one who causes all the trouble, stealing the other cats’ food. He purrs, and kneads with his claws, making little pinpricks on my legs.
“I would have dropped everything and come immediately,” says Andrea. “My poor Sue, she must have thought I didn’t care!”
I know that I have to tell her. I swallow. “It was my fault,” I whisper. I explain how Mum had given me the letter to post on my way to school. How I was in too much of a rush to do it on the way there, so I was planning t
o do it on my way back. “Only I didn’t, cos…cos that was the day it happened.”
“You mean…” Andrea hesitates.
“It was the day Mum died! I forgot all about the letter. I found it weeks later, in my school bag, and… that’s why you only just got it.”
I hang my head, gazing down at Thomas’s stripes. Grey, and white, and ginger. I wait for Andrea to say something. Is she going to be mad at me? I think I would be a bit mad at me. after all, Mum asked me specially. I knew it was important to her. I feel ashamed. I mumble that I’m sorry.
“No! Don’t be.” Andrea leans across and takes my hand. “I’m pleased that you’ve told me. I’ve been torturing myself, imagining your mum waiting for a telephone call, day after day, wondering why I never responded. I’m just so glad you posted the letter and didn’t simply throw it away. Did your mum…did she show you what was in it?
I say, “No – and I didn’t read it!” I am anxious for her to know; I don’t want Mum’s friend thinking badly of me.
Andrea says soothingly that it’s all right, she wouldn’t have minded. “And I don’t think your mum would, either. I have it here, you probably should read it, but I’ll just tell you, very briefly, what it says. I gather your mum had been sick for some time?”
“Yes.” I hold Stripy Tom’s paws, to stop him kneading. “I was the one who looked after her!”
“I know.” Andrea smiles. “She says in her letter…you’re a daughter in a million. She couldn’t have managed without you.”
“And Stevie,” I say.
“Yes, she mentions Stevie. She says no one could have asked for a better neighbour. But she was starting to get really worried in case…well! In case she became so poorly she had to go into care. Or if anything should happen to her. Who would be responsible for her little Lollipop? Obviously you couldn’t stay with Stevie—”
“I could,” I say. I stick a finger inside one of Tom’s paws, wiggling it so that he splays his fingers. “I wouldn’t have minded staying with Stevie!”
“Oh, Lol!” Andrea shakes her head. “They wouldn’t have let you, sweetie. Even if Stevie had been willing, and…let’s face it, she’s not really a people person. and anyway, she’s an old lady, it wouldn’t have been fair. Your mum knew you couldn’t stay with Stevie. What she was scared of was that you’d end up where you did, with your aunt and uncle. She loved her brother very much, but she really didn’t think you’d be happy living there.”
“I’m not!” I plonk Tom on the back of the chair, and suddenly it all comes bursting out of me in a great unstoppable flood. “I hate it,” I cry. “I hate it, I HATE it!”
The tears are streaming down my cheeks. I’m sobbing and sobbing, an endless stream of tears. I fight to get back into my ice house, but it’s no use, I can’t find the way in. I give a desolate wail and collapse into Andrea’s arms. She holds me, very close, stroking my hair and murmuring words of comfort. I’m crying too hard to hear what she says, but something is happening. A strange, half-remembered sensation is stealing over me. I feel loved, I feel safe!
“Oh, my poor little Lollipop!” Andrea takes out a tissue and gently blots my eyes. “You’ve had a rough time of it. Let me tell you what your mum says in her letter. She says that if I’m agreeable – which I am! – she would like to appoint me as your guardian.”
I stop crying, and start hiccupping. “You mean…” She hands me a tissue and I scrub, fiercely. “You mean I could…come and live with you?”
“That’s what your mum dearly wanted. Unfortunately she didn’t have time to make it official, but—”
“I’m not going back!” The tears come spurting out again. “I’m not ever going back! I’m not leaving Mr Pooter and I can’t take him with me, and anyway I…I stole money out of Auntie Ellen’s pot!”
“Oh, dear,” says Andrea. She twitches her lips, like mock disapproving. “That sounds serious!”
I tell her that it was the only way I could get to Stevie’s. “I had to rescue Mr Pooter!”
“Don’t worry about the money,” says Andrea. “I’ll take care of that. the only problem as I see it is getting your Uncle Mark to agree to your living with me – should you decide that you want to.”
“I do want to!” The words come howling out of me.
“Yes, and I want you to,” says Andrea. “Very much! But I think your uncle may point out that you don’t really know me.”
“I do!” I snatch my bag off the floor and scrabble round inside it until I find Diary of a Nobody. “Look!” I open it and show her. “To Sue, with all my love, Andi. That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She takes the book and stares at it with a kind of wonderment. “To think she kept it! All these years…This was almost the first present I ever gave her. It was one of my grandad’s favourites, then it became one of mine.”
“It was one of Mum’s,” I assure her. “We read it together loads of times. And something else!” I dip deep into a pile of T-shirts and pull out Blue Bunny. Rather shyly, cos I’m not absolutely certain, I say, “Were you the lady who gave me this?”
“I was.” For a moment I think that she is going to cry too. “It was the last time I ever saw you. Fancy you remembering!”
I feel I have to be honest, so I tell her that I only sort of remember.
“Well, of course,” she says. “You were a tiny little thing. Oh, how I did miss you!” She hugs me to her. “You were going to be our very own little baby. Your mum’s and mine. We were going to be a family. that was the plan.”
I’m confused. “But what about my dad?”
Andrea says that my dad was quite happy. “He never really wanted to be a dad. Until you were actually born…and then he changed his mind. Couldn’t resist you! So he and your mum got married, and – well! After a bit your dad decided he didn’t want me seeing you any more. He said it upset your mum.”
Indignantly I say, “He was the one that upset her!”
“Yes, sweetie, I know.” Andrea takes my hand. “That’s why I had to go away.”
“Why?” The tears come welling back up. “I wish you hadn’t!”
“Oh, Lol,” she says, “I never wanted to. It nearly broke my heart, knowing I wasn’t going to see you again. But it just made things so difficult for your mum. I didn’t want to add to your problems. I loved your mum very very dearly.”
I say, “More than my dad did!”
“That’s probably true,” agrees Andrea.
I glare at her, like it’s somehow her fault. “Why did they ever get married?”
She shakes her head. “It seemed the right thing at the time.”
I think to myself, it didn’t later, but I don’t say it in case it sets me off weeping again. I’m almost glad when Stevie punches the door open and in her usual aggressive tones says, “Still at it?”
“We’re pretty well through,” says Andrea.
Stevie grunts. “I suppose you’ll be expecting a cup of tea.” She stomps back down the hall. I give Andrea a watery grin.
“Her tea is awful. Mum used to say it tasted like stale pond water.”
“Well, we must just grit our teeth,” says Andrea. “We don’t want to hurt her feelings. Now, we must decide on a plan. I think what we shall have to do is leave Mr Pooter here for the time being—”
I stare at her, stricken. Leave Mr Pooter?
“Just until we can get things sorted. I promise you we’ll come back for him as soon as we possibly can. We’re not abandoning him. I wouldn’t abandon Mr Pooter! Your mum and I had him when he was a tiny kitten. We’ll come and fetch him, don’t worry. In the meantime, he’ll be quite safe with Stevie.”
I know this is true; but I am still anxious. “Why can’t we just take him with us?”
“To your aunt and uncle’s?”
“No!” I thump, wildly, on the arm of the chair. “To your place!”
“The thing is, Lol.” Andrea looks at me, gravely. “I can’t just kidnap you, much as I should like to. We
have to do everything strictly by the book. that means going back to speak with your uncle and seeing what we can arrange. It may even mean you have to stay there for another day or two—” she holds up a hand as I open my mouth to protest – “but I won’t abandon you any more than I’ll abandon Mr Pooter. I’ll be there. If necessary, I’ll book myself into a hotel. It’s just that we have to do things properly if we want it all to work out. Fortunately your uncle knows me from the old days, so it’s not like a total stranger turning up on the doorstep. And I have your mum’s letter, so with any luck we’ll be able to get things moving quite quickly – especially when he realises how you feel. It just means that you have to be brave for a little while longer. You have to trust me.” She tips my face up towards her. “Do you trust me?”
I do. I feel, in an odd kind of way, that we’ve known each other for ever. That we’re already friends. And besides, it’s what Mum wanted.
“So let’s just drink our pond water,” says Andrea, “then leave poor old Stevie in peace.”
CHAPTER TEN
It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, coming back here with Andrea. We take a cab from the station, and as we get out I see that Uncle Mark’s car is in the drive. My heart goes plummeting, right down to my shoes. they’ve come back early! I’ve been praying we would at least get here in time for me to tear up my note and for Andrea to put Auntie Ellen’s money back. I start to tremble. Andrea stretches out her hand and takes hold of mine, and we go up the path together.
“Courage!” she whispers.
It’s Auntie Ellen who opens the door. “So!” she snaps. “You decided to come back, did you?” She is very angry; I knew she would be. Partly she’s angry cos of me taking her money, but also because she’s been forced to come home early, all on my account.