‘Bill?’ asked Sean Godfrey.
‘He’s the guy who has the bacon-roll van,’ said Mum. ‘You’ve no idea how good they taste at crack of dawn on a chilly morning.’
‘Oh, I see. Bacon Roll Bill!’ said Sean Godfrey, like he was making a joke.
‘Yes, he’s our friend. Mum’s friend,’ I persisted. ‘Isn’t he, Mum?’
‘Yes, he is,’ she said evenly. ‘But he won’t be there just now. The car boot sales are only on Sundays. It’ll just be empty fields.’
‘Yes, but it’s still lovely, and we can take Alfie for a run there,’ I said.
‘If that’s what you’d like to do, Jess,’ said Sean Godfrey. ‘We’re up for a run too, aren’t we, Tyrone?’
‘You bet, Sean,’ he said.
The fields looked very different without all the cars parked for the boot fair. There were families picnicking, couples sunbathing, and some boys having a kickabout with an old football.
‘Aha!’ said Sean Godfrey, parking the Porsche.
The boys spotted the flash car first. Then they saw him getting out. He might have retired from the game but he was still a football legend, even among little boys who’d probably never seen him play professionally. They shouted his name and clustered around him, their game forgotten. Tyrone grinned proudly.
‘Can we join in for a few minutes?’ Sean Godfrey suggested.
They all squealed excitedly, and in seconds he was in the centre of the field, dribbling the ball, kicking it up in the air and catching it with his foot, dodging nimbly while they all charged around him. Tyrone played as well. He looked surprisingly good as he did some of the tricks Sean Godfrey had taught him. The boys treated him with awe, and he swaggered about like a mini-Sean.
‘Well, this was a good idea,’ Mum said sarcastically, flopping down on the grass.
‘This is what it would be like if you hooked up with him again,’ I said. ‘Him showing off and you having to hang about watching.’
‘But I’m not hooking up with him – how many more times?’
‘He wants to hook up with you. It’s obvious.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘Absolutely!’
‘Good. That’ll teach him what happens when you play around,’ said Mum. ‘And even if we did get together again, which isn’t going to happen, I’m not the sort of woman who hangs about watching, thanks very much. I join in the action – see?’
She ran up to the boys, intercepted the ball and ran off with it. Sean Godfrey roared with laughter and tried to tackle her, but she managed to dodge round him. Well, perhaps he didn’t try very hard. Anyway, she still had the ball and she could outrun the rest of the boys, though Tyrone came sprinting up. Just before he reached her, Mum kicked the ball hard and it went high in the air, flying all the way to the end of the field.
‘Goal! Tracy Beaker wins the match, fair and square!’ she yelled, punching the air.
‘Hurray!’ Sean Godfrey shouted, and he picked her up and thumped her on the back. I know he was only mucking about like footballers do after a goal – but I hated it.
‘I’m bored! Let’s go home,’ I said.
When we got back we had a cup of tea.
‘And we’ve got cakes too, still warm from the oven,’ Flo said proudly.
She’d heaved herself up from her sofa and, in between serving customers, made rock buns. She hadn’t made cakes for years, and her wrists were too weak to stir the mixture properly, so they were a bit lumpy. We were still full of lunch, but Mum and I shared one, Sean Godfrey politely ate a whole one, and Tyrone managed to wolf down two, which pleased Flo enormously. She put the rest in a bag for Tyrone to take home.
I couldn’t wait for Sean Godfrey to clear off, but I was also dreading it. I was sure he’d try to kiss Mum goodbye. My full tummy turned over at the thought. When we lived at his house, I’d hated it when they got lovey-dovey. He did try too, but luckily Mum quickly turned her head so he was only kissing her cheek.
Tyrone kissed me! I was so surprised I didn’t duck in time and he got me right on the lips! It was only the quickest kiss ever, but even so!
‘You cheeky little whatsit, Tiger,’ said Sean Godfrey, laughing.
‘You can stop that right this minute, kiddo! Jess is just a little girl,’ said Mum, but she wasn’t really cross.
When at last they left, the shop was suddenly very quiet and very peaceful. I breathed out slowly and deeply, and then rubbed my lips with the back of my hand.
‘I’m so glad they’ve gone,’ I said.
‘What, you’re glad to see the back of your sweetheart?’ said Flo, teasing me. Then she looked at Mum. ‘What about you, Tracy? Sean Godfrey is quite a charmer, eh? He was doing his best to get round me. If I was fifty years younger I dare say I’d have fallen for him, hook, line and sinker. No wonder he turned your head. So, are you relieved he’s gone?’ She said it light-heartedly, but she looked anxious.
Mum sat down beside her and held her plump hand. ‘Yes, I am,’ she said. ‘Sean can be great fun at times, and I used to be mad about him once – but it’s truly all over now. I could never trust him again. He’s a dreadful control freak too. You always have to do things Sean’s way. I’m not cut out to be a sweet little wifey. I want my own way.’
‘So you definitely don’t want to go back to him?’ Flo persisted.
‘Absolutely not! We’re here for good. We have a partnership now. You, me and Jess.’
Mum reached out for me and pulled me onto her lap, as if I was still a little kid. I didn’t really mind.
‘You can stop worrying, Jess. We’re here to stay. Promise,’ she said.
MUM NEVER BREAKS her promises. Well, hardly ever. I did try to stop worrying – but it wasn’t easy. The next day a fancy delivery van drew up outside the shop. Sean Godfrey had sent three bunches of flowers: an enormous bouquet of red roses for Mum, a slightly smaller one of white roses for Flo, and a baby bouquet of pink roses for me. They each had cards.
Mine said:
It was rubbish. Of course he didn’t miss me. I crumpled up the card and threw it in the bin.
Flo’s card said:
‘Oh my!’ she said, and popped her card in her handbag.
I don’t know what Mum’s card said. She read it and then shoved it straight in her jeans pocket.
‘What does your card say, Mum?’ I asked.
‘Oh, just a load of nonsense,’ she said.
While she was in the bathroom getting ready for bed that night, I felt in her jeans pocket. The card wasn’t there any more.
I watched her like a hawk after that. I often hung around outside the bathroom, straining to hear the tiny mouse-tap of her texting. Once she came barging out without warning and knocked me flying.
‘What were you doing, Jess?’ she asked, picking me up.
‘I was just waiting to have a wee,’ I said.
‘Leaning against the door?’
‘Well, I was desperate. Still am,’ I gabbled, and charged into the bathroom.
I watched her when she took Alfie out at night to see if she was on the phone. I also looked out for Bill, hoping he fancied another curry. Or maybe even fancied my mum and was trying to bump into her again.
A few nights later I saw Mum coming down the road with her head on one side, murmuring into her phone. I was sitting up in bed, arms folded, when she came in with Alfie.
‘Sorry I’ve been such ages. Alfie hung around a lot, sniffing every lamppost. Snuggle down now, Jess,’ said Mum.
My heart was thumping hard. I decided to ask her outright.
‘Were you on the phone to Sean Godfrey just now?’ I demanded.
Mum pulled her jumper over her head. All her curls bounced as they bobbed back into view again. In the soft glow of my new rabbit night light I couldn’t see her face properly, but I was pretty certain she was blushing.
‘Oh, I just had a quick word with Cam, checking how she’s doing,’ Mum said airily, getting into her pyjamas.
I didn’t believe her. While her back was turned, I grabbed my phone and hid it in my pyjama pocket. Then I got out of bed.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I need a wee,’ I said.
‘Maybe I should take you to the doctor’s. You’re weeing an awful lot recently. You’re worse than Alfie,’ said Mum.
I dashed to the bathroom, ran the taps to make a noise, and then dialled Cam’s number.
‘Hi, Jess,’ she said. ‘Is anything wrong, poppet? Has your mum come back from taking Alfie out?’
‘Yes. So, were you talking to her just now?’ I asked urgently. ‘Don’t tell fibs, please.’
‘Yes, I was,’ said Cam. ‘And I don’t tell fibs. Especially not to you.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘What’s up, love?’
‘Nothing. What was Mum saying?’
‘Oh, this and that,’ said Cam. ‘We were just having a catch-up.’
‘Can we have a catch-up some time soon, Cam?’
‘Well, that was one of the things your mum and I were talking about. Mary and I thought we’d drive down next Sunday. OK?’
‘Yes, lovely.’
‘That’s great then. Jess? Are you worrying about anything?’ Cam asked.
‘Not really,’ I said. I’m not like Cam. I do sometimes tell fibs, though I’m not very good at it.
‘Is it Sean?’ she asked.
‘Yes!’ I said. ‘How did you know? What did Mum say?’
‘Well, she told me he’d been to visit. With Tyrone.’
‘Did she sound pleased about it?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘She says she doesn’t trust him any more and that she’ll never go back to him – but I think she still loves him,’ I said in a tiny voice.
‘And you still don’t like him at all?’
‘I can’t stand him,’ I said fiercely. ‘You don’t like him either, do you, Cam?’
‘Not much. Not at all, actually. I’m with you on that one, Jess,’ she said.
‘But do you think Mum still loves him?’
Cam was quiet for a moment. ‘I’m not sure your mum even knows the answer to that,’ she said eventually. ‘Now, I’d better ring off, Jess. I can hear one of the girls prowling around downstairs. I’d better go and see if she’s OK. Night night, darling.’
When I went back into our room, it was Mum’s turn to sit up in bed, arms folded. ‘You were a long time,’ she said.
‘Well, I had to go,’ I said.
‘Were you on the phone?’
‘No!’
‘Jess, I can see the shape of the phone in your pyjama pocket! Who were you phoning?’
‘Cam.’
‘For goodness’ sake!’
‘Well, you phoned her.’
‘I think we’d both better stop phoning her so much. She’s got her current foster girls to deal with. And now she’s got her number one foster girl and the number one foster girl’s daughter to contend with! She must be sick of us Beaker girls,’ said Mum.
‘Cam’s never sick of us. I’m so glad she’s coming next weekend!’ I said.
On Sunday Mum and I got up very early so we could fit in the boot sale first and hopefully find a few bargains. We set the alarm for six and rushed off in the van without bothering with breakfast. We didn’t need any – we could have a bacon roll when we got there.
‘Hi, Tracy, hi, Jess, hi, Alfie,’ said Bill. Gladys gave Mum and me a happy lick, and Alfie a loving sniff.
Mum and Bill had a little chat while Bill made our bacon rolls. It wasn’t really about anything – just the weather and how hard it was getting up so early. Mum said she had to set the alarm on her mobile and her Mickey Mouse clock. Bill said he’d probably sleep through his own alarm but Gladys always started barking when it went off, and he had to get up sharpish to take her out otherwise he’d have a puddle on the floor.
I was pleased to see them being so friendly with each other, nattering away. It was clear that Bill really liked Mum. She laughed at all his silly jokes, her eyes sparkling, her curls bobbing about. I wasn’t daft – I could see that Bill wasn’t anywhere near as flash as Sean Godfrey. His faded sweatshirt was shabby, the cuffs fraying – but then he’d be a fool to wear good clothes frying bacon all morning.
I edged right up to the counter so that I could peer down and see the rest of him. His jeans were a bit baggy at the knee, and one leg was torn. Some people wore ripped jeans as a fashion statement, but these just looked very old. He wore a truly old style of trainers too – they looked as if they were practically falling to pieces – but he wasn’t walking anywhere, he was just standing in his van.
So his clothes were a bit rubbish, but I thought he was still better looking than Sean Godfrey. He didn’t have a silly haircut for a start. He had fairish wavy hair and a lovely friendly face, with big brown eyes and a wide mouth that was always smiling. He was just a nice normal size and build, not all shoulders and six-pack like Sean Godfrey.
If Mum really wanted a boyfriend, then Bill would be perfect. He really seemed to like me too, he wasn’t just pretending. He loved Alfie and always gave him his own rasher of bacon as a little treat. If Bill and Mum ever got together, then we could still live in Cooksea and run the shop with Flo.
Why couldn’t he ask Mum out? Why couldn’t she hint that she’d like that? Perhaps they needed a little encouragement!
Mum and I were walking towards the first row of cars, munching away. I stopped suddenly.
‘Won’t be a minute, Mum,’ I said, turning round. ‘I’m just going to put some tomato sauce on my bacon roll.’
‘You put some on already,’ she said.
‘Yes, but I’d like a bit more,’ I said, and ran back to Bill’s van.
‘Are you wanting another roll, Jess?’ Bill laughed.
‘Just some more sauce, if I may,’ I said, squeezing the big red bottle. I took a deep breath. ‘Do you know something, Bill?’
‘What’s that, Jess?’
‘My mum really fancies you.’
Bill looked startled. ‘You what?’
‘She likes you. Ever so. Do you like her?’
‘Well, yes. She’s lovely. But I don’t think I’m really her type,’ he said awkwardly.
‘Yes you are! Why don’t you ask her out next Sunday?’
‘Out where?’
Bill was very nice, but he wasn’t really enterprising.
‘You could go for a walk, or for a drink, or to see a film. And you could have a curry after – you both like curries, don’t you?’ I said.
‘Yes, I suppose. Well, I do, anyway,’ he agreed.
‘There you are then. Ask her.’
‘Don’t you think I’m a bit old for your mum?’ he said.
I hadn’t really thought about their ages. They were both old. What was he on about? I tried to remember what Mum said to reassure Flo when she fussed about being an old lady. ‘Age is just a number,’ I said.
Bill burst out laughing. ‘You’re a card, you are, Jess Beaker.’
‘So you’ll ask my mum out? She’s been hoping and hoping that you will,’ I said, fibbing outrageously.
‘Really?’ he said, looking a bit worried. ‘Well, I’d better pop round and have a little word with your mum then. OK?’
I nodded hopefully and started back towards Mum, but Alfie dug his paws in, not wanting to leave Gladys. Dogs were so much simpler than people. They sniffed each other, they wagged their tails and made friends in just a few seconds, with no pussyfooting around.
I’d put so much tomato sauce on my bacon roll it made my cheeks pucker and it was hard to swallow it down, but I didn’t care. I felt I’d got a result.
‘What were you nattering about to Bill?’ Mum asked, sorting through a load of old children’s books in cardboard boxes.
‘We were just passing the time of day,’ I said airily. ‘You nattered more than me.’
‘Well, he’s such a sweet guy,’ said Mum. ‘And I think he’s a bit
lonely, for all he’s so cheery.’
Aha! I thought. Maybe he won’t be lonely for long. Maybe he’ll get a brand-new girlfriend!
I knelt down beside Mum and started sorting through the books myself.
‘I wouldn’t touch them if I were you, Jess. They’re all a bit old and manky and they’re mostly picture books anyway. Too young for you.’
‘Oh, Mum, look, they’ve got some of those little animal books – Peter Rabbit and Mrs Tiggy-Winkle and Jemima Puddle-Duck! Couldn’t I have them – they’re so sweet?’ I begged.
‘Baby!’ said Mum, but she asked the price from the lady at the stall.
‘I’d sooner sell the whole box. I’ve inherited all my old grandad’s stuff and we’re snowed under with it. You can have the lot for thirty-five quid,’ she said.
‘No thanks!’ said Mum. ‘Come on, Jess.’
We wandered around the rest of the stalls, but there was nothing special, just a couple of little china jugs with A SOUVENIR FROM COOKSEA on them, and a box of jigsaw puzzles.
‘The day trippers will snap up the jugs, and jigsaw puzzles always sell,’ said Mum. ‘You and Flo can check that there aren’t any pieces missing.’
‘I don’t like doing jigsaw puzzles. I like books,’ I said, looking over at the box of children’s books again.
‘They’re massively overpriced!’ said Mum. ‘We’ve already got a heap of kids’ books in the shop and no one wants them.’
‘I do,’ I said. ‘I’ve read them all.’ I’d had a glorious time reading my way through some old school stories, and paperback Noel Streatfeilds, and a whole set of Ladybird fairy stories, and a trilogy set in the future that made me cry because a dog just like Alfie died. I didn’t mind a bit if some of the books were too old for me and some too young. I badly wanted the Beatrix Potter animal stories.
Mum sighed. ‘Well, I’ll see if I can beat her down in price. After you’ve read the books I could cut out the pictures and frame them.’
We Are the Beaker Girls Page 6