It’s hard to walk on the bus now cos when it drives on the road it’s all wobbly but there’s lots of helpful hands holding me and smiley faces and voices that say, ‘There you go,’ and ‘Almost there,’ and ‘Careful, lovey.’
Ryan is the last person to hold his hand out for me and he pulls me over to a seat and then Mummy is standing next to me with the buggy and everyone is smiling cept Toby who pushes against his straps and shouts, ‘Out! Out! Out!’ Then the bus does a great big bounce and Toby’s eyes go so wide and he stops shouting.
The bus bumps and bounces along the road and I look at all the houses and shops bumping up and down out of the window. I didn’t know buses were so bumpy. Bumpy like a kangaroo, but loud and roary like a lion. A kangaroolion!
I say, ‘Mummy, this bus is actually a kangaroolion,’ but the bus is roaring and Mummy doesn’t hear me and she keeps talking to Ryan and Ryan’s talking too and I can’t hear what they’re talking about cos the kangaroolion bus is too bouncy and roary. Then the bus stops and more people get on and off and I can hear Ryan talking and he says, ‘So what made you move away from there? Sounds like you had a nice place.’
Mummy lifts her shoulders up and down and says, ‘The bedroom tax. Magda died, and we suddenly had a spare room.’
Ryan says, ‘But couldn’t they move you to a smaller flat?’
Mummy says, ‘There weren’t any to move to. I didn’t have Alex’s wages, my benefits didn’t cover it and I couldn’t work to earn more because Magda had been my childcare. Then Toby was born so it was impossible anyway. I was completely stuck.’
I say, ‘Toby was born in the bath when I was sleeping, wasn’t he, Mummy?’
Ryan’s eyebrows shoot up to his hair and he says, ‘Wow, was he?’
Mummy makes a funny cross face at me and says, ‘Thanks for sharing that, Jesika,’ but I don’t think she’s actually cross cos when Ryan laughs Mummy laughs too.
Ryan says, ‘But Alex, he pays maintenance, doesn’t he? Did that not help?’
Mummy says, ‘He should, but he doesn’t. And how do you chase someone living in Poland? He ignores my texts and I can’t afford to keep phoning him. And does he really care? He left me with a toddler and a baby on the way, he completely blanked us at Magda’s funeral …’ Mummy presses her hand on her mouth.
Ryan says, ‘I’m so sorry.’ Then he says, ‘So how did you get out of it?’
Mummy rubs her forehead and says, ‘I looked all round for a private rent and the only one I could afford was here. Seemed like the right decision at the time, because I grew up here and I know the area, and I thought I could cope with the flat being a bit of a dump, but …’
The bus roars and bounces forwards and my belly jumps up and down inside me and I can’t hear what Mummy and Ryan are saying now cos it’s too noisy again.
The bus stops and starts lots and lots of times and after a long-a-long time Mummy says, ‘Our stop next,’ and the bus stops and it’s much easier getting off the bus cos it’s not squashy like when we got on. Mummy tells me to walk with Ryan to the front of the bus and she pushes Toby out ahind us.
We walk past the stairs that go up to the top and we forgotted all about going upstairs and I say, ‘We didn’t go upstairs! Can I go and look? I want to see what it looks like!’
Mummy says, ‘Not now, Jesika, we have to get off the bus. We’ll go upstairs another time. Maybe one day when Toby’s not in the buggy any more.’
I say, ‘But that’ll take ages!’ and my foot stamps hard and hard, cos Toby’s only a baby and he has to do a lot of growing afore he’s not in the buggy.
Mummy says, ‘Jesika, come on, you need to move.’
I say, ‘I want to go upstairs!’ My foot stamps again.
Ryan says, ‘Hey, Jesika, have you seen the golden postbox?’ He waves me towards him with his hand and points out of the door of the bus.
My foot stamps again and I say, ‘That’s silly,’ cos postboxes are red, not golden.
Ryan says, ‘Come on, I’ll show you,’ and I follow him and step down onto the pavement and Ryan points over to the side and says, ‘There. See?’
Oh! It really is golden! I run over to it and stroke it with my fingers and it’s smooth and cold and I can see teeny-tiny sparkles all over it and I say, ‘Why is it golden?’
Ryan says, ‘It means someone who lives near here won a gold medal for a race.’
I say, ‘Wow!’ cos gold medals are special, and I say, ‘Was it an egg and spoon race?’ cos I like the egg and spoon race and I was the only person not to drop my plastic egg when we did our races at preschool afore the big holidays.
Nobody answers and I look round and Ryan and Mummy are talking again and Ryan says, ‘You know where you’re going?’
Mummy says, ‘Yes, thanks.’
Ryan says, ‘And you know what you’re going to say?’
Mummy says, ‘I think so.’
Ryan says, ‘And you’ll text me after? Let me know when you’re ready to head back? I should be less than an hour.’
Mummy says, ‘OK.’
I say, ‘Where are we going?’
Ryan says, ‘You’re going to find out if you can get a new house!’
I make my eyes and my mouth go wide and wide and I say, ‘A new house?’
Mummy frowns and says, ‘Ryan, I wasn’t …’ and Ryan says, ‘Oh, sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said that,’ and now Mummy smiles and she says, ‘It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll let you know how we get on.’
Ryan waves his hand and walks away and I say, ‘Where’s Ryan going?’
Mummy says, ‘He’s going to give blood.’
I say, ‘Give blood?’
Mummy says, ‘He’s having some blood taken out of his body and given to someone who’s poorly and needs new blood to make them better.’
I say, ‘How do they take his blood out?’
Mummy says, ‘You can ask him all about it later. Come on, we have to get going.’
Mummy turns Toby’s buggy round and I say, ‘Are we really getting a new house?’
Mummy says, ‘We’re going to talk to someone about it, but we might not get one.’
The place we have to go to talk to someone about a new house is a huge, giantnormous tower and it’s got a special door to go in that you walk into and you push it round and round and sometimes people come right back out to the front again and I want to go in the round-and-round door and I bet Toby wants to as well cept Toby’s buggy won’t fit and he’s asleep, so a man has to open a normal door next to the round-and-round door.
I say, ‘Please can I go in the round-and-round door? Please? Please?’
Mummy’s smiling and smiling and she says, ‘Go on quickly, then.’
So Mummy pushes Toby through the side door and I go in the round-and-round door and it’s easy to push and I keep going round and round and round, inside and outside and inside and outside, and I’m giggling and giggling cos every time I come past inside, Mummy pretends she’s trying to grab me but I go past too quickly and her laugh zooms away and near and away and near.
Then Mummy does grab me and she pulls me hard and it hurts and Mummy’s not laughing now.
The man who opened the normal door isn’t smiling or laughing. He says, ‘I’ve just told your Mum – it’s not a toy, young lady.’
Mummy’s cross. She tugs my hurty arm and says, ‘Come on, Jesika,’ but I pull my arm back and say, ‘Ow! You’re hurting me!’
Mummy lets go and says, ‘It’s time to go. Now.’
I don’t want to go. I want to play the round-and-round game again. It’s not fair.
Mummy says, ‘I’m going now, Jesika,’ and then she turns round, and she’s pushing Toby’s buggy so so fast, I think she’s actually leaving me ahind!
I shout, ‘Wait, Mummy! Wait! Come back!’ But Mummy keeps walking fast away from me and I run and run even more fast til I’m right next to Toby’s buggy and I hold onto it cos then Mummy can’t walk away without me.
; We get to a shiny metal door and Mummy pokes a button next to it, hard like the Driver Lady on the bus, and she’s just staring at the doors and not saying anything. I think she’s still cross that I went round and round in the door too many times.
The metal doors slide open and it’s a lift like the one we used to have in the place we lived afore with Daddy and Bab-bab. We step inside and Mummy pokes another button and the doors slide shut.
I say, ‘I wish we had a lift in our house now, like where we used to live.’
Mummy’s head turns fast and then my belly goes WHOOSH! and I hold it tight and I say, ‘Oooh! I’ve left my belly ahind!’ and Mummy crouches down and she smiles so big and she says, ‘You used to say that every time we went in the lift, do you remember?’
I think about the place we used to live and there’s lots of pictures in my head, whizzing past so fast, and then I see one that I like a lot and I say, ‘I watched the trains with Bab-bab from high up in the air.’
Mummy puts her hand on my cheek and she says, ‘Yes, you did.’
I say, ‘But then Bab-bab’s heart stopped working and we had to go and live in our new house cos you didn’t have enough pennies to pay for Bab-bab’s bedroom.’
Mummy says, ‘Yes, yes, we did. That’s right.’ And then she’s squeezing me tight and tight til there’s a bump under my feet and the doors open and it’s time to get out of the lift.
We walk into a huge room and Mummy says it’s a waiting room and it has windows that touch the ceiling and the floor and lots of shiny, red chairs and people sitting on them and waiting and being noisy and at the front there’s people sitting at tables.
Mummy pulls a piece of paper out of a machine and we go and sit down. I sit on the chair next to Mummy. It’s very hard and my bottom keeps sliding down. I put Baby Annabelle on the chair next to me and her bottom slides down too and she falls onto the floor and the carpet is all swirly like a whirlpool. I lean over on my belly and grab Baby Annabelle out of the whirlpool just afore she gets sucked under but now a shark’s leaping out of the water and snapping his sharp teeth. SNAP! SNAP! But it’s OK cos I’m holding Baby Annabelle and she’s safe, cept now my bottom’s sliding down again. Oh no! Watch out, Baby Annabelle, the shark’s trying to get us again! Hold on tight …
‘Jesika, sit on the chair properly!’
Mummy looks cross. And then she doesn’t look cross and she says, ‘It’s boring waiting, isn’t it?’
I say, ‘When will it be our turn?’
Mummy says, ‘Soon.’
I say, ‘When is it soon?’
Mummy says, ‘I don’t know, Jesika. Not too long, I hope.’
A man and a lady get up and walk to the tables at the front.
I say, ‘Is it their turn?’
Mummy says, ‘Yes.’
I say, ‘Is it our turn next?’
Mummy says, ‘Jesika …’ and then she coughs and coughs and I rub her back and when she’s finished coughing she says, ‘Soon. It’ll be our turn soon.’
It’s our turn when a number machine on the wall beeps and shows the number on Mummy’s paper and flashes an arrow on and off and on and off so we know which table to go to. At the table, there’s a lady sitting on the other side and she’s got a computer and lots of bits of paper and pens in a tub and next to the table on the floor there’s a little tree in a pot. I didn’t know you could grow trees in a pot inside. Trees usually grow outside.
The lady says, ‘I hope you’ve not been waiting too long,’ and I say, ‘We’ve been waiting for ages and there’s not even any toys to play with.’
Mummy says, ‘Jesika!’ and I think she’s going to be cross but the lady laughs and says, ‘I keep saying we should have toys but Management think they’ll be more trouble than they’re worth. What do they know, eh? Now, how can I help you today?’
Mummy starts telling the lady all about our dump flat and the broken things but I’ve just spotted something more interesting. I slide off my chair and crouch down next to the little tree cos there’s a teeny-tiny spider swinging down on a long, long spider-string all the way from the leaf at the top and I think it’s trying to reach the floor. I don’t know if the spider can make enough string to get all the way to the floor cos the tree is bigger than my head and the spider’s only tiny and what if he runs out of spider-string afore he gets to the bottom? Then he’ll be stuck just swinging about. I hold my hand out and the spider lands on my hand and it starts running all over my hand and it’s so tiny and I can’t even feel it tickling. I put my hand right next to the floor so it can run onto the floor but it keeps running the wrong way and—
‘I just want somewhere SAFE!’
My body and my hand jumps and the spider’s gone. I can’t see it anywhere and I think it must be hurt falling out of my hand but then I see it running fast and fast under the table.
The House Lady says, ‘I understand, but you have to meet specific criteria …’
I sit back on the chair and I want to hold Mummy’s hand but she’s got them both curled up tight in fists on her lap.
Mummy says, ‘I’m a single mum with two children under five, my youngest keeps getting ill because of the conditions we’re living in, and that’s before I list all the dangers in the flat. I can’t afford anywhere better, not with the benefit cap. And how come they don’t put a cap on rent too? How is that fair? I mean, how much more desperate does it need to be?’
The House Lady looks sad. She says, ‘You’ve got a roof over your head. I know it doesn’t seem it, but according to the criteria, that makes you a lot less desperate than some. You’ve got a roof.’
Mummy hisses like a snake and then she says, ‘And a cracked bath, and faulty hot water, and damp, and mould all over the walls,’ and I say, ‘They’re not moles, Mummy, they’re tadpoles,’ but Mummy keeps talking and now her voice is squeaky like a mouse. ‘And a man who shouts and swears at my children and dirty needles in the stairwell and a landlord who demands extra money for repairs he never makes, who threatens to make up reasons to have us evicted, who says he’ll let me off the extra money if I … I …’ Mummy puts her hand to her mouth and she’s pressing hard and she breathes and breathes and then takes her hand away and she says, ‘And Toby’s chest infection just won’t go away,’ and her words are wobbly and she says, ‘And a guy I know said there were empty flats where he is and I should ask about them, and I just thought … I thought we’d qualify.’
A tiny drop of water slides out of Mummy’s eye and down her cheek and then another one races down straight after.
Mummy’s crying cos she doesn’t want my tadpoles on the wall.
I shouldn’t have drawed on the wall.
I push through her arms and climb onto her knee and put my arms around her neck and squeeze extra very tight and say, ‘I love you, Mummy,’ and Mummy squeezes me hard and I say, ‘I’m sorry I drawed on the wall,’ and Mummy does a little hiccup and squeezes even harder and kisses me one, two, three, four on my head and that’s Bab-bab’s secret code that she teached us that means, ‘I love you too.’
I stay on Mummy’s knee cuddling with my ear pressed into Mummy hard so I can hear her heart beating. The House Lady gives Mummy lots of pieces of paper and says lots of words and each time Mummy does a squeaky, ‘Yes,’ or a squeaky, ‘OK,’ and then Mummy lifts me off her knee and it’s time to go and the House Lady’s shaking her head and she’s got pretty earrings that hang down from her ears almost to her shoulders and they jingle and sparkle like treasure.
Mummy stands up and the House Lady says, ‘Mrs Petrowski, I can’t stress enough, inform yourself, and put your complaints in writing to us now. It’ll be investigated. In fact, put everything in writing from now on, and get receipts for everything you pay him. And keep a record of any harassment. He can’t evict you without the right paperwork, and if he tries to, contact us immediately.’ She closes her eyes for a second and blows out a breath, just like Mummy does, and then she says, ‘I’m sorry I can’t be of more hel
p today.’
Mummy dips her head down and says a squeaky, ‘Thank you,’ and she pulls Toby’s buggy round fast and it almost tips over and Mummy pulls it back and the wheels bang back down on the floor. Toby’s eyes open wide and his mouth opens wide and Mummy says, ‘Come on, Jesika,’ and her voice is spiky and Toby yells, ‘Out! Out! Out!’ and pushes at his straps and then he’s coughing and coughing and I think Mummy needs to stop and rub his back but she’s not stopping, she’s walking fast and fast so I have to run and she doesn’t stop til we get back to the lift doors.
In the lift, Mummy gives me a banana and gives Toby his bottle. Toby shouts, ‘No!’ and throws it on the ground and then she gives him a banana but it breaks in his hand and he throws the banana on the ground too and then cries, ‘More nana, more nana,’ but there isn’t any more banana cos I’ve already eaten mine all up. Mummy says, ‘Well, at least no one else is in the lift,’ and she leans against the wall and closes her eyes and Toby cries all the way down to the ground.
He’s still crying when we get to the bus stop. Mummy gets her phone out of her pocket and she tap-tap-taps on it and then puts it away and sits down on the seat and I cuddle into her side and kiss her hand one, two, three for, ‘I love you.’ She starts shaking and shaking and she’s covering her face up and I think she’s laughing so I kiss her again, one, two, three, and then I see water leaking atween her fingers and she’s not laughing, she’s crying again.
I say, ‘What’s wrong, Mummy? Mummy? What’s wrong?’
Mummy shakes her head. I look at the grown-ups at the bus stop cos I think Mummy might need help from a grown-up, but no one looks at me or Mummy or Toby crying and crying in his buggy, and all the busy people on the pavement just keep walking past and the cars and the buses and the lorries whizz by and nobody stops. Why does nobody stop? Why does nobody stop and ask Mummy what’s hurting?
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