by Jean Ure
I felt a whole lot happier once I’d worked that out. Shane might be a criminal, and the people he knew might be criminals, but me and Cupcake weren’t doing anything wrong.
I explained this to Cupcake when we met next day by the lift on the second floor. I’d told her to be early, so I could explain my plan. I’d worked it all out! We were going to get into the lift, and press the button for the top floor.
“And that’s when we’ll do it… on the way up, so’s he can’t run off without giving us the money.”
Clever, or what? I thought it was! I thought it was a really smart move. Cupcake as usual could only see problems. Like, what if someone else was in there?
I said, “We’ll just wait till they get out.”
“What if they don’t get out until we reach the top?”
“Then we press the button for the basement and go all the way down!”
Oh, but what if someone else presses the button? What if someone gets in while we’re still only halfway there? What if no one gets in and he mugs us?
I said, “He’s not going to mug us!”
“You don’t know that,” said Cupcake. And then she opened her mouth and wailed, “I feel like a criminal!”
So that was when I told her: we weren’t criminals. I gave her the story of the ring. How Mum’s friend had been accused of stealing it and had handed in her notice.
“Mum says, not before time. She’s a really horrible old woman. Fancy accusing someone of stealing, when all the time it’s her own dog! Except he’s our dog now, and anything that’s inside him is ours as well. It’s our ring, and we can do what we like with it.”
Cupcake said, “Yes, I know! But I get scared.”
“You don’t want to be scared of Shane Mackie,” I said. “I remember one time he babysat me, I threw up all over him… he didn’t half yell!”
I told her to just stare at Shane very hard and imagine him covered in bright yellow sick. Cupcake was grateful for that. She said it made her feel a bit braver.
I might as well admit it made me feel a bit braver, too. I’d thought my idea was so brilliant! It wasn’t till we were actually all shut up together, going up to the top floor – very slowly – that I began to wonder if I might have made a mistake. I mean, how many times in movies do you see two people getting into a lift and only one getting out?
Quickly, before I could freak myself out, I stared very hard at Shane’s right shoulder, picturing all the bright yellow sick. I could feel Cupcake doing the same thing, standing transfixed at my side. Shane said, “What you two looking at?”
“Oh! Nothing,” I said. “I thought a bird had splodged on you, but it must just be the light.”
“Or maybe it’s the pattern,” said Cupcake.
“Or the colours.”
“Yes! The colours. Sort of…”
“Green,” I said.
“And brown,” said Cupcake.
“And yellowy.”
We were burbling rubbish; we couldn’t seem to stop. “Look, cut it out!” said Shane. “This is a business deal, not a flaming tea party. You brought that ring?”
I said, “You brought the money?” I was pretty scared, I don’t mind admitting it. But I didn’t want him to know; I had to stand up to him.
“Keep your wig on,” said Shane. “I did a bit of asking around; I got the money. But I don’t want your mum coming down on me like a ton of bricks!”
He glared at Cupcake as he said it. Cupcake clutched nervously at my sleeve. I said, “What’s her mum got to do with it? It’s my friend’s ring, it was left to her. She can do whatever she likes with it.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t want no questions. OK? Her mum asks where it’s gone, you say you lost it. You don’t bring me into it. You got that?”
I said that we had. “What about the money?”
“All in good time,” said Shane. “Don’t push your luck.”
“But w—”
“I said, don’t push your luck!” He suddenly plunged his hand into the back pocket of his jeans, causing both of us to spring backwards, in a panic. I distinctly heard Cupcake go, “Eek!” I don’t think I squealed, though I may have done.
“Here’s your poxy money! Where’s the ring?”
I felt quite faint with relief. He was actually holding out a wodge of notes! I grabbed them from him and shoved them at Cupcake.
“Count it!” I said.
“Trust me,” said Shane, “it’s all there. Now, gimme the goods!”
By now, we’d reached the top floor. The doors had opened, and to my huge relief a couple of people were getting in. I bent down to fiddle with my shoe, scooping out the ring and slipping it into Shane’s hand as I stood up. He grunted.
“Just remember,” he hissed, as we reached his floor, “if you’ve bin having me on I’ll be back!”
I knew he would. But as I said to Cupcake, we hadn’t been having him on, so there was nothing to worry about.
“We’ve got the money and Cookie can have his operation!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Now that we had the money, I was all for rushing straight back to Cupcake’s place to give it to her mum. She would be so relieved! And Joey would be so happy. I couldn’t wait to see his face! It was Cupcake who stopped me. She pointed out that if we gave the money to her mum now, on a Sunday evening, her mum would want to know where we’d got it from.
“We could always tell her I got it.”
“She’d still want to know where it came from.”
“We could say… one of my grans gave it to me?”
“And then what happens next time my mum talks to your mum? They’re always talking! She’d say how kind of your gran, and your mum would say what do you mean, and then my mum’d—”
“Yeah, OK!” I waved a hand, suddenly impatient. I knew that she was talking sense. Her mum would be suspicious, the way grown-ups are. And if we told her the truth, that Cookie had sicked up the ring and we’d sold it to our friendly neighbourhood thug, she’d go tearing round to my mum and dad in a fit of panic. Then my mum and dad would get in a panic. It would be “What have you done?” And “Dani, how could you?” Mum would tell me off for even just talking to Shane.
“You know that boy’s no good!”
Dad would probably want to go thundering upstairs to threaten him. He’s got a temper, my dad. He once told Shane if he didn’t stop revving his bike at 11 o’clock at night he’d knock his block off.
I looked at the wodge of notes Cupcake was holding. Rather lamely, I said, “So what d’you think we should do?” It’s not very often I’m at a loss for ideas; I’m usually the one coming up with them. I’m usually buzzing with them. But now we’d actually got the money it was like my brain had gone and shut down. That’s it! Finish!
“I think…” Cupcake said slowly, working things out, “I think we should tell Mum we’re going to do that thing we were talking about… that sitting still thing? We’ll tell her people are going to sponsor us for every minute we manage not to move.”
I said, “Yesss!”
“But I think,” said Cupcake, “that we’d really have to do it, cos otherwise it would be like telling lies. I know we probably wouldn’t make any actual money, but that doesn’t matter now. We don’t need to make any money. It’s just…”
“We don’t want to upset your mum.”
“This is it,” said Cupcake. “She’s got enough to worry about.”
“Let’s go and tell her!”
Cupcake’s mum seemed a bit doubtful when we said we were going to do a sit-in. “You’re trying so hard, both of you, but we’re still only a quarter of the way there! And your friends have been so good, I’m not sure you should ask them for any more money.”
“Mum, it’ll be all right!” said Cupcake.
“Honestly,” I said, “they like supporting good causes.”
“But we need over £200! I’m seriously beginning to think – ” she dropped her voice to a whisper, even though Joey
was in another room – “I’m seriously beginning to think we shall have to call it a day. It’s not even as if I could borrow the money – I’d simply never be able to pay it back. And the longer it goes on, the more unfair it is on Joey. And on Cookie! I’m so, so sorry, girls, after all the effort you’ve put in. It’s entirely my fault; I should have stood firm right at the start. It would have been easier for all of us.”
“Mrs Costello, please,” I said. “We’re going to get the money, I promise!”
Cupcake’s mum shook her head. She said, “Oh, Dani, I don’t know. That poor little dog is in pain, and—”
“And Joey loves him!” cried Cupcake. “And he loves Joey! You can’t separate them, Mum. You can’t!” She marched across the room and flung open the door of the lounge. “Look!” Joey and Cookie were cuddled up together on the sofa, watching television. Well, Joey was watching television. Cookie was curled nose to tail, blissfully quivering in his sleep.
Joey looked across at us and beamed. “Cookie’s having dreams!”
I thought for a truly terrible moment that Cupcake’s mum was going to burst into tears. I know the signs! I don’t cry very much myself, but when I do my lips start kind of rippling and my eyes go all shimmery. I said, “Please, Mrs Costello! We can do it, I know we can!”
“Just one more day,” begged Cupcake. “That’s all we need.”
Cupcake’s mum hesitated, then said all right, she would give us till the end of the week. “After that—”
She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. She rushed out of the room, and I knew that this time she really was crying. It’s very disturbing when grown-ups cry; you don’t expect it of them. They are meant to be the ones in control. I find it quite scary.
Joey had seen that his mum was upset, and that made him upset as well. He wanted to know what he had done. We told him that he hadn’t done anything, but he grew angry and banged his fist on the arm of the sofa, shouting, “Cos of me! Cos of me!”
“Joey, it isn’t!” I said.
He gave me such a look. When I sat down next to him and tried to cuddle him, he flailed with his arms, pushing me away; he struggled to his feet and tried to go after his mum, but his legs wouldn’t carry him, which made him scream with frustration and punch out at Cupcake as she went to his aid. She was anxious to assure me afterwards, as we took Cookie for a walk round the block, that “Joey isn’t really like that!” As if I didn’t know. I told her there was no need to explain, but she obviously wanted to. She said that Joey was getting weaker all the time.
“There’s things he used to be able to do just a few months ago that now he can’t. He knows it makes Mum unhappy, and he feels it’s all his fault!”
“At least we’ve got the money for Cookie,” I said. “That’s something!”
Cupcake said it was more than just something. “It’s the most important thing we’ve ever done in our whole life. Cos if Joey didn’t have Cookie I think he’d just give up.”
It made it all worthwhile. Even if we had become criminals.
Next day at school, I was sitting back to back with Cupcake on a fallen tree trunk on the playing field, trying my hardest not to move, not even to twitch. I kept repeating to myself: If Joey didn’t have Cookie, he would just give up. There wasn’t really any need for us to keep so still; it wasn’t like we were expecting people to give us money. It was more a point of… honour, I suppose. We’d told Cupcake’s mum we were doing a sit-in, so that’s what we had to do. Claire and the others couldn’t understand it.
“Are you playing at statues?” said Claire. “Or are you training to be living sculptures?”
I said, “Something like that.”
I did my best to speak without even moving my lips. Livy wanted to know what would happen if she poked us. “Like this!”
I said, “Don’t.”
“She moved!” said Davina.
“So would you,” said Livy, “if I poked you… like this!”
Davina gave a loud shriek.
“Are you trying to raise more money?” said Emily. “Cos if you are, we want to know the rules.”
Cupcake said, “There aren’t any rules… we’re just doing it.”
“Could one ask why?” said Emily. That really is the way Emily speaks. She’s ever so intellectual. “I don’t want to pry, but—”
“It’s yoga,” said Cupcake.
Oh! That was so inspired. Next thing we know, they’re all at it, hurling themselves down on to the grass and bending their bodies into weird shapes.
“You know, you are meant to move occasionally,” said Lucy. “Not just sit around like blocks of cement.”
I swivelled my eyes towards her; she seemed to have tied herself into some sort of complicated knot. I thought it would be fun if she couldn’t undo herself and we had to carry her into school with her limbs all tangled up. Claire had one leg hooked behind her neck. Davina was staring into space with this soppy smile on her lips. She looked ridiculous. They all looked ridiculous! I started to giggle, and that made me shake, and that set Cupcake off, so that very soon we were rolling about on the ground and that was the end of our sit-in. We’d lasted less than fifteen minutes.
“But what’s important,” I said, “is that we did it.”
Cupcake said, “Yes, and we don’t actually have to say that’s where we got the money from. I know Mum will think that it is.”
“As long as we don’t actually tell her.”
Cupcake’s mum wasn’t coming to meet us that day as Joey had an appointment with a specialist up in London, which meant they wouldn’t be back till about six o’clock. Me and Cupcake were going to collect Cookie and take him for a walk, then we were all going back to my place for tea.
“We’ll be able to tell Mum we’ve already counted the money and got it changed into notes,” said Cupcake happily as we walked round the park.
“Yes, but how?” I said. “How did we do it?” You have to think of these things; you have to have every detail worked out. “It’s no good saying we went into a bank cos I bet they wouldn’t change it for us.”
Cupcake said, “But it’s our money! That wouldn’t be fair!”
I told her that life wasn’t, when you were only eleven years old.
“So what are we going to say?”
The answer came to me in a flash. “We’ll say we took it into the Office for safekeeping and Mrs Mlada changed it for us.”
“Oh, brilliant!” said Cupcake. “You could be a criminal mastermind!”
She may be right – I do seem able to plot and plan, and come up with cunning ideas. But there must be other jobs I am cut out for, apart from a criminal mastermind. Like if I can’t be a TV celeb, I wouldn’t mind being a detective. That way, with my devious brain, I could get to outwit all the bad guys!
While we were having tea, Mum asked us what was happening about Cookie. Proudly we told her that we had managed to raise enough money for his operation. She was very surprised! She said, “Well, congratulations! I never would have thought it. You must have worked really hard – and all your friends must have been extremely generous.”
“I was generous,” said Rosie. “I gave them something.”
Mum said, “Yes, you did, and I’m sure Cookie’s very grateful.”
Rosie beamed. She said, “I was saving up to buy myself a present, and now I can’t, but I don’t mind… I’d rather make someone else happy.”
“That’s very good of you,” said Mum.
“I know,” said Rosie. “I’ve got to start saving all over again, now. I s’ppose you actually need my money what I gave you?”
“Oh, now, Rosie,” said Mum, “don’t ruin it!”
She is a spoilt brat; but I was so happy at that moment that I was willing to forgive her.
At six o’clock Cupcake’s mum arrived, with Joey. Mum said, “Come in, love! Come and sit down, have a cup of tea. You look worn out.” It was true. I don’t usually notice much about grown-ups, but even I cou
ld see that Cupcake’s mum had obviously had a really tiring day. Dad said, “I’ll put the kettle on,” and went through to the kitchen, while Cupcake’s mum sank on to the sofa and Mum lifted Joey out of his wheelchair and sat him down next to her. Cookie was all over him, giving little excited squeaks and covering him with loving doggy kisses. Joey tried ever so hard to respond, but the effort was too much for him. It’s a long journey, up to London; and then, Cupcake told me, you had to travel for ages on the Underground to get to the hospital. I went on the Underground once. I thought it was quite fun, but I expect it might not be if you had to cope with a wheelchair.
“I don’t know how you managed,” said Mum.
Cupcake’s mum said it was a case of having to. “But people were very kind. There was always someone to help me with the stairs.”
“Even so… I’m not surprised you’re all washed up! You’d think the least they could do would be to provide you with transport.”
Cupcake’s mum smiled, a bit wearily, and said, “They probably expect you to take taxis.”
“They think everyone’s made of money.” Mum sounded quite fierce about it. “Anyway,” she perched on the arm of the sofa, “how did it go?”
“Oh…” Cupcake’s mum waved a hand, like I don’t want to talk about it.
“Well, the girls have one piece of good news,” said Mum, “don’t you?” She turned to me and Cupcake. “Lisa, go on! Tell your mum.”
“We’ve got the money,” said Cupcake. “Cookie can have his operation!”
“Really?” Cupcake’s mum sat up. “You actually managed to raise it all?”
“Every penny,” I said.
“I can’t believe it!”
“I’ve got it right here,” said Cupcake, “in my – ” she glanced round, to make sure Dad hadn’t come back – “in my knickers!”
She hadn’t been able to think of anywhere else safe enough, so she’d put the notes in an envelope and Sellotaped it right round herself.
“Good heavens,” said Mum. “How uncomfortable is that?”
Cupcake giggled and said, “Very!”
“But it’s a lot of money,” I said. “We couldn’t risk losing it.”