We Are the Beaker Girls

by Jacqueline Wilson

  Then, late on Thursday afternoon, just as we were closing, a customer came in and fell in love with it.

  ‘I’d like to buy that desk, please,’ he said happily.

  Mum glared at him. The desk had been given pride of place and she’d speed-read an entire book on Victorian furniture so she could show off on camera. ‘I’m afraid that desk isn’t for sale,’ she said.

  ‘Yes it is!’ the man argued, holding up the display ticket. ‘And at a reasonable price, seeing as it’s in such fabulous condition.’

  ‘I know,’ said Mum. ‘But I can’t sell it to you.’

  ‘What kind of a shop is this?’ he said, getting irritated.

  ‘It’s a shop full of treasures, dear, and it’s going to be featured on the television tomorrow!’ said Flo excitedly. She looked a little alarming now – she’d had her hair dyed a jaffa orange colour, which didn’t quite go with her red lipstick. (Flo herself wasn’t quite sure about her hair, but Mum and I had told her she looked lovely.)

  ‘If you could come back on Saturday, I’ll sell you the desk with pleasure,’ said Mum.

  ‘But I need it now!’ he said. ‘It’s my wife’s birthday on Saturday.’

  Mum had to take ten per cent off the asking price and offer free delivery, just so she could hang onto the desk. Then, when Lawrence and the television people arrived on Friday, they didn’t give the desk a second glance!

  ‘We want Lawrence to pick the pieces that resonate with him,’ said Amanda, the director. She wore a baseball cap very similar to Jordan’s, but it looked very different on her. It was set at a rakish angle, with her hair in a long golden plait. She wore a very skimpy T-shirt that showed her bare midriff, with low-slung baggy jeans and canvas Docs. She was trying to look very street, but whenever she opened her mouth it was clear that she was ultra posh. She opened her mouth a lot, telling the camera crew how to do their job. They didn’t argue with her, but there was a lot of eye-rolling behind her back.

  ‘Hadn’t we better wait till Adele gets here?’ the cameraman said.

  ‘Well, we don’t know how long she’ll be, do we?’ Amanda turned to us. ‘Adele is our producer. She seems to have got lost driving from Hastings, bless her! Oh, the shop we featured there was a picture, wasn’t it, Lawrence? Such unusual pieces! We were spoiled for choice!’

  Her voice was starting to grate. Alfie seemed enchanted with her though, and followed her as she paced up and down, wagging his tail.

  ‘Nice doggy,’ said Amanda, giving him a vague pat. ‘Is there anywhere we can put him when the cameras start rolling?’

  ‘Can’t he stay with us?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, I think he’ll be a bit of a distraction, don’t you? I want the viewers to concentrate on Lawrence and the shop,’ she said.

  ‘But Alfie’s part of the shop. He always greets our customers,’ said Mum. ‘They love him.’

  ‘I’m sure they do, but this is Antique Memories, not For the Love of Dogs,’ Amanda said crisply.

  ‘And I’m definitely the antique today,’ said Lawrence, trying to lighten the mood.

  ‘Me too, darling!’ said Flo. ‘I’m the poor soul with the murky corners nowadays.’

  Amanda clearly didn’t get the reference to Flo’s character in Life with the Lilliputs, but she sat down beside her and asked about her acting background.

  ‘This is a nostalgia show, you see, and Lawrence tells me you were a soap star in your heyday. The viewers might remember you. I’d like to see you and Lawrence chatting as he wanders around your shop. Maybe a bit of flirty banter? That would be fun,’ she said.

  ‘I’m game!’ said Flo.

  ‘Perhaps you could hint at past romance?’

  ‘Never mind the past,’ said Lawrence gallantly, and kissed Flo’s hand. ‘An ongoing romance, if you please!’

  Mum pulled a face at me. It was all getting very cheesy. We didn’t need to say a word. We were united in our loathing of Amanda. She ignored us completely, and wasn’t even interested in Mum’s clever displays. She kept picking up a china ornament here, a soft toy there, showing them to Lawrence and then putting them back in the wrong place.

  Mum sighed meaningfully and rearranged them.

  ‘How about Mr Teddy here as one of your choices, Lawrence?’ Amanda asked, plucking a bear from Mum’s teddy bears’ picnic. ‘I’m sure you cuddled up with a teddy just like him when you were a little boy.’

  ‘I wasn’t really keen on teddies. I preferred an elephant called Currant Bun who went everywhere with me. But I can always pretend an affection for stuffed bears if you think it a good idea, Amanda,’ Lawrence said obligingly.

  ‘I could show Lawrence the whole bear display, and we could have “The Teddy Bear’s Picnic” playing on the gramophone,’ said Mum.

  ‘I think that might be a little twee,’ said Amanda. ‘And we’ll be concentrating on Lawrence and Flo, as they’ve got such a splendid rapport.’

  ‘Oh!’ Mum’s mouth stayed in an O shape, as if she was about to say more.

  Flo said it for her. ‘Tracy’s my business partner and dear friend. She’s made the world of difference to the shop. She has to be part of the show!’ She grew so heated that her face matched her glasses.

  ‘Well, I dare say we can fit her in somewhere. I’ll think of a line for her to say,’ said Amanda.

  ‘I can think of my own line, thanks very much,’ said Mum.

  ‘I know!’ Amanda picked up a pink cup and saucer from a display Mum had called ‘Pretty in Pink’, with china in rose and candy and shocking pink, and little toy flamingos dipping their heads in to drink. ‘You can offer Lawrence a cup of tea in this, and he can look down and say he remembers his mother having that exact tea set back in Edwardian days.’

  ‘I’m not quite that old, my dear!’ said Lawrence.

  ‘And it’s not Edwardian anyway, it’s mid-Victorian,’ added Mum.

  ‘But you get the gist,’ said Amanda impatiently. ‘Actually, do you think you could be an angel and rustle up a few actual cuppas? I’m sure these guys are parched. I know I am.’

  I knew Mum felt like throwing a cup of tea at Amanda, but she liked the camera crew so she headed for the kitchen.

  I followed her. ‘That lady! She’s awful!’ I hissed as Mum filled the kettle.

  ‘You’re telling me,’ she said.

  ‘Why don’t you tell her where to get off?’ I asked. ‘She’s leaving you out completely, when you found all the stock and made everything look so pretty!’

  Mum sighed. ‘I know. But it is Flo’s shop, not mine, and it means so much to her to be back on the telly with dear old Lawrence. Let her have her moment.’

  I blinked at her. She suddenly seemed a meek and mild stranger! She even looked like a stranger: she’d put on lots of make-up for the television cameras. She wasn’t used to wearing it so it was a bit smeary.

  ‘Hang on, Mum, let me wipe that little smudge away,’ I said, advancing on her with the tea towel.

  ‘Oh, what does it matter if I’m just the tea lady for a while?’ said Mum. ‘There I was, kidding myself this could be the start of a whole new career. I might just as well be back at the Silver Spoon caff.’

  We heard the shop bell jangling as someone else came in.

  ‘Hey, guys! Sorry I’m a bit late. I stopped off at a transport café to get everyone cups of tea and bacon sandwiches,’ a cheery voice rang out. ‘Help yourselves.’

  ‘And now I’m a redundant tea lady,’ Mum said. ‘That’ll be the producer, Adele.’

  ‘At least she sounds nicer than Amanda,’ I whispered.

  We made more cups of tea anyway, and carried them into the shop, along with some special white chocolate and hazelnut cookies. Adele was busy handing round the bacon sandwiches and making a fuss of Flo, telling her she was a big fan. She was older than Amanda, a curvy woman in a brightly patterned dress and little boots. Her hair was beautifully cut and her make-up was immaculate, her eyebrows, eyes and lips all clearly defined.

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nbsp; She was smiling. ‘I absolutely love the name of your shop,’ she said to Flo. ‘When Lawrence told me, I knew we had to come here. The show’s all about reminding people of their childhood. Well, your entire shop reminds me of mine. I was in a children’s home for a while and we all called it the Dumping Ground.’

  Mum very nearly dropped her tea tray. I gasped. Adele stared at me, looking totally astonished.

  ‘Tracy Beaker!’ she said to me. ‘No, you can’t be. She’d be nearly my age. But you’re the absolute spitting image of her!’

  ‘That’s because she takes after her mum,’ said Mum, coming forward.

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ said Adele, rushing up to her. She gave her a big embrace, so the mugs were in danger all over again.

  ‘You two know each other?’ Amanda said, asking the obvious.

  ‘Tracy was my little pal! Remember when you pinched all my make-up? You were hopeless at putting it on though!’ Adele looked closely. ‘You still are!’ she said, dissolving into peals of laughter. ‘But you’re looking great otherwise.’

  ‘I can’t believe it’s you, Adele!’ said Mum.

  ‘And you have a daughter!’

  ‘Jess, come and meet my friend Adele! She was the oldest girl at the Dumping Ground and I used to think she was dead sophisticated,’ said Mum. ‘Still do!’

  ‘I am!’ said Adele, laughing. ‘My goodness, Jess, this is weird – you’re so like your mum! Do you have massive tantrums if you don’t get your own way?’

  ‘I’m a bit quieter,’ I said.

  ‘She’s more artful than me!’ Mum put her arm round me. ‘She gets her own way without having to kick off.’

  ‘And is this your dog?’ said Adele, bending down and making a fuss of Alfie.

  ‘He’s Alfie,’ I told her. ‘I’m afraid he’s not quiet at all.’

  ‘He’s got great character!’

  ‘Could he possibly be on television for just a split second?’ I asked. ‘I don’t mind if I’m not in it, but I’d be so proud if Alfie was.’

  ‘I’d like to be in it too!’ said Mum. ‘You’ll all be in it,’ said Adele.

  We glanced at Amanda, who was looking peeved. ‘I thought it would be more effective if we concentrated on the old lady and Lawrence,’ she said.

  ‘Hey, less of the old, thank you,’ said Flo.

  ‘I see your point, Amanda, but we’d be mad not to make the most of this set-up. I think we’ll need to stretch it to a ten-minute slot and skimp on the other three shops – maybe cut one out altogether. We’ve got everything we need here: great personalities and a wonderful setting. I absolutely love the window displays and the quirky ways the stock is arranged. We’ll start with Lawrence coming in and wandering around like he’s Alice in Wonderland, astonished by everything, and there’ll be Flo here smiling like the Cheshire cat, and Tracy and Jess the absolute spitting image of each other like a big Tweedledee and a little Tweedledum, and Alfie here charging around like a March Hare, bumping into everything. Perfect!’

  It was perfect too, though we had to do the filming over and over again. It wasn’t because we kept making mistakes, it was because of camera angles and sound problems and customers ringing the shop bell. Amanda bobbed about being bossy, telling Lawrence to act more surprised and Flo to be more flirty – until they were hamming it up like actors in old silent movies, Lawrence gesturing dramatically and Flo pulling faces and fluttering her eyelashes.

  ‘Shall we try just one more take, Amanda – a little less mannered, to see how that works?’ Adele suggested tactfully.

  She had Alfie and me in a corner, with me ‘reading’ him an old copy of Where’s Spot? I felt very self-conscious, but Alfie turned out to be a marvellous actor and pretended to be thoroughly engrossed in the story. However, Mum was the star of the show. Lawrence might not be interested in the little desk, but she’d displayed all kinds of things to remind him of his past. She’d Googled him and found out that he’d been a child actor in the 1950s, so there was an old Picturegoer annual, with a statuette of Marilyn Monroe in a skimpy white dress leaning against it. Lawrence gently set her aside and leafed through the pages, suddenly stabbing one excitedly.

  ‘There we are! Look, it’s me! Little child star Lawrie acts the Little Prince!’ he read. ‘Oh my, look at my mop of golden curls!’

  He also liked the crimson smoking jacket Mum had hung on the vintage clothing rail, saying he’d always fancied himself in one. ‘What do you think, Flo? Do you think I could get away with it?’

  ‘Of course, darling. I’d fancy you in it,’ said Flo, and he blew her a kiss.

  Then he bent down to examine a pair of black-and-white gentlemen’s shoes, angled as if they were going to do a little Charlie Chaplin walk all by themselves. ‘I like these co-respondent shoes too. Very flashy!’ said Lawrence. ‘And practically good as new.’

  Amanda suggested Lawrence look at the china cabinet, and he obligingly found a Clarice Cliff teapot to add to his collection. Making the most of her new knowledge, Mum told him that it was the popular crocus design, but if he wanted Clarice’s Bizarre teapot it would probably set him back £2,000.

  Best of all, Lawrence spotted the little Beatrix Potter Jemima Puddle-Duck and opened it lovingly, quoting passages and sighing because Jemima was so gullible. ‘My mother used to read me this night after night,’ he said, shaking his head fondly at the memory. ‘I must have this little book too!’

  He glanced at the price and looked surprised. ‘Oh dear! Such a lot for such a little book!’

  ‘I know, but it’s a first edition – and it has its original glassine dust wrapper, which makes it worth even more,’ said Mum. ‘But I dare say we can arrange a special price for you, Lawrence, as it means so much to you – or maybe I can find one without a dust wrapper. Jess will hunt one out for you. She’s our book expert. She found this copy – a bargain at a car boot sale!’

  I looked up and smiled as the cameraman focused on me for a few seconds. Alfie licked my face as if he was proud of me.

  ‘Perfect!’ Adele breathed at the end of the take. ‘I’m tempted to alter the format of the show and simply concentrate on this shop. You’re all star performers – and you really know your stuff, Tracy!’

  ‘Doesn’t she just!’ said Flo proudly. ‘She’ll be on Antiques Roadshow next.’

  ‘No, we don’t want her on a rival channel!’ said Adele. ‘Still, maybe we should think about her own show. Let’s think – I know, Beaker’s Bargains!’

  We all laughed, but Adele seemed semi-serious. She spent a happy half-hour with Mum, reminiscing about life in the Dumping Ground, but then had to go on to another shop in Brighton.

  ‘But I’d love to come back and have a proper catch-up,’ she said.

  ‘That would be great,’ said Mum. ‘And I’ll invite Peter round too. Remember him?’

  ‘Little Peter Ingham? You’re still in touch?’ Adele asked delightedly.

  ‘Well, we’re sort of seeing each other,’ said Mum, and she actually blushed.

  ‘Oh, how sweet! I can’t wait to see the two of you together! This is amazing. You’ll be telling me you’re best friends with Justine Littlewood next!’

  ‘Well, not exactly best friends,’ said Mum. ‘But we have met up a couple of times.’

  ‘And everything’s worked out OK for you, Tracy? Did you stay with Cam?’

  ‘Of course I did,’ said Mum. ‘She’s our family, isn’t she, Jess?’

  ‘Of course she is! She’s coming tomorrow, and she’s bringing Jordan, who’s going to be my foster sister,’ I said proudly.

  ‘No!’ Adele looked at Mum. ‘You’re going to start fostering?’

  She shrugged. ‘If it all works out. Jordan’s not going to be the easiest kid to look after, but then I wasn’t either, was I?’

  ‘You’re telling me!’

  The next morning Jordan came running into the shop, looking great in her new clothes. She was carrying a big tin.

  ‘I’ve made you all c
akes!’ she said excitedly. ‘Cam showed me how to bake and I’ve really got the hang of it, haven’t I, Cam? Look! You can choose between brownies and flapjacks and muffins. Help yourselves!’

  ‘You can be the chief cake maker when you come to live with us then,’ said Mum. She took a big bite of muffin. ‘Mmm! Even better than yours, Cam!’

  I felt just a little twinge of jealousy then, because I’d once tried to make muffins with Cam and something had gone wrong and they hadn’t risen at all, ending up more like biscuits than cakes.

  Jordan saw my face. ‘I’ll show you how to bake if you like, Jess. Here, try one. See what you think of my muffins.’

  She handed round her cakes proudly. I saw Mum give a quick thumbs-up sign to Cam.

  ‘Tell us all about the telly thing. Did it go well?’ Cam asked.

  ‘It went splendidly!’ said Mum. ‘Where’s Mary? I’ve got something to say to her!’

  ‘She’s just parking the car. Jordan leaped out the minute we got here. Why? What have you got to say to Mary?’ Cam looked a little anxious.

  At that moment Mary came in and was startled when Mum flew across the shop towards her. She actually took a step backwards. But Mum gave her a huge hug.

  ‘Tracy?’ she gasped, scarcely able to breathe. ‘What’s all this about?’

  ‘I am just so enormously grateful to you! You made me feel a bit of a fool, setting myself up as an antiques dealer with Flo without knowing a thing about it. I still don’t, actually, but I’ve started getting books out of the library, and I made sure I knew about every item in the shop. It meant I could show off on camera, and Adele, the producer – who just happens to be an old friend of mine from the Dumping Ground, would you believe? – but anyway, that’s not the point – the point is that I knew my stuff, and it was all down to you! No wonder you’re a teacher. You’ve certainly taught me a lesson!’