Clean Break

by Wilson, Jacqueline

  I wished I had a dad like that.

  I wished wished wished I had a dad who would come back in ten minutes, tops.

  I’m sure Vita and Maxie were wishing it too. They’d been so good for so long, but now they started whining and moaning and flinging themselves around.

  ‘It’s no good, Em, they can’t hang on here much longer,’ said Gran. ‘I can’t either, sweetheart. I’m in agony. I’ve got to have a sit down soon or I’ll just keel over.’

  ‘Oh, Gran. Please let’s stay, especially now we’ve waited all this time. We can’t give up now! We’re nearly in the door.’

  There was a kind curly-haired smiley man waiting there, helping everyone get their books open at the right page.

  ‘Have you been waiting for ages?’ he said sympathetically to Gran. ‘I’m sorry the queue’s so long.’

  ‘Well, it’s total madness, hanging around like this,’ said Gran. ‘Still, I suppose it’s very good business for your shop.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t work for the shop,’ he said. ‘I’m Bob, Jenna’s driver. But I like to help out with the queue if I can.’

  ‘So you know Jenna Williams?’ said Molly.

  ‘I certainly do, young lady. Have you got a question you want to ask her?’

  ‘Mmm . . . I know, I’m going to ask her if she’s got any pets,’ said Molly.

  ‘I’m going to ask her to put a little girl called Vita in one of her books,’ said Vita, smiling cutely.

  ‘Me too. I want her to put a little girl called Maxie in one of her books,’ said Maxie, getting muddled.

  He went very red when we laughed at him.

  ‘Never mind, Maxie, you’re already in the Wild Things book,’ I said.

  ‘Are you a Wild Thing, Maxie?’ said Bob. ‘Oh dear, I hope you’re not too scary.’ He cowered away from him, pretending to be afraid. Maxie started giggling, delighting in the game.

  Then Bob turned to me. ‘Is that great big bag full of Jenna Williams books? Goodness, you’re obviously a very big fan.’

  ‘She would insist on bringing them all. Some belong to her friends. I told her to leave them behind but Emily wouldn’t hear of it,’ said Gran.

  ‘What are you going to ask Jenna, Emily?’ said Bob, helping me pull the books out of my bag.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said shyly.

  ‘I think you should ask her to give you a few writing tips,’ said Molly’s dad. ‘Emily’s very good at making up stories. She’s been keeping the children very happy with her stories while we’ve been waiting.’

  ‘That’s lovely,’ said Bob, helping me balance all the opened books in a neat pile. ‘There’s one more book left in your bag, I think. Here, let me get it out for you.’

  ‘Oh, that’s nothing,’ I said quickly, trying to stuff the red book back again.

  ‘It’s not the reindeer story, is it?’ said Molly’s dad.

  ‘Well . . . sort of,’ I said, embarrassed.

  ‘Can we have a look?’

  ‘Oh no, it’s stupid, I don’t know why I brought it,’ I said.

  ‘Can I see?’ Molly begged, so I had to let her.

  Her mum and dad read bits over her shoulder.

  ‘Oh Emily, it’s wonderful! I think you’ll be a rival to Jenna Williams when you grow up!’ said Molly’s mum.

  ‘You’ll have to show Jenna Williams,’ said Molly’s dad.

  ‘No, no, I couldn’t!’ I said quickly.

  ‘She’d like to see it, I’m sure,’ said Bob.

  ‘We’re moving again!’ said Molly, as the queue surged forward and we were inside the shop at last. It was very hot and very noisy now, with children laughing and chattering and shouting. Some of them had been given balloon animals and they kept making horrible squeaking noises. Every now and then a child clutched one too tightly and the balloon burst with a bang.

  ‘I don’t like it here!’ Maxie wailed. ‘I want to go out!’

  ‘Please, Maxie, try and be good for just a tiny bit longer,’ I begged him. ‘We’re nearly there now.’

  ‘I am trying to be good – but I still don’t like it!’ Maxie said desperately.

  ‘I don’t like it either. People keep pushing me and shoving me and I’m hot and I want another drink,’ said Vita.

  ‘We’re nearly there, I’m sure we are. Hang on just for a bit, please, please,’ I said.

  Then the queue moved forward again and we turned a corner and we were nearly there.

  ‘Look!’ said Molly’s dad, and he picked her up to show her. ‘There’s Jenna Williams, over there, in the corner.’

  I stood on tiptoe, craning my neck.

  I saw a big emerald banner with more fairy lights, and a chair and a table with a shimmering green cloth, and there was this small short-haired lady smiling at everyone, signing book after book. She was wearing a top and skirt the exact same shade of green as my own dress! She was wearing a lot of rings. I wondered if any of them were real emeralds.

  I took Dancer off my hand and looked at my own ring, twiddling it round and round my finger.

  ‘My goodness, that’s a lovely ring,’ said Molly’s dad.

  ‘It’s an emerald,’ I said. ‘Well, I think it is.’

  ‘A perfect ring to wear today,’ said Molly’s mum. ‘It won’t be long now! Are you getting excited, girls?’

  Molly was certainly excited, hugging her dad. Her sisters Jess and Phoebe seemed quite excited too. They’d read lots of Jenna Williams books when they were younger, and although they’d passed them all down to Molly now, they’d kept one favourite one each for Jenna to sign.

  I clutched my books and Jenny’s books, tucked Dancer under my arm and hooked my bag on my shoulder, in a terrible fluster. I wished I’d gone to the loo when I’d had the chance. I tried to sort out a sensible question in my head. I wanted to learn it by heart so I wouldn’t make a fool of myself. It was so silly, I’d been longing to meet Jenna Williams all my life, I’d queued for hours and hours to see her . . . and yet now I was starting to feel weirdly scared.

  What if I couldn’t get my words out properly? What if I just stood there blushing like an idiot? What if I dropped Jenny’s books? Oh dear, what was I going to do if Jenna Williams asked my name and then started to write ‘To Emily’ in Jenny’s books?

  The little cluster of children around Jenna Williams suddenly moved away, waving and smiling, and Molly and her mum and dad and sisters went up to the signing desk. They were there a long time. Molly didn’t seem a bit shy. She was saying all sorts of things, making Jenna Williams laugh, while her family looked on fondly.

  Molly’s dad bought a copy of The Emerald Sisters for Molly, a copy for Jess and a copy for Phoebe. Molly was really too young for the story and Jess and Phoebe were too old. Then he picked up a fourth copy from the big glossy green pile.

  ‘This one’s for you, Emily,’ he said. ‘Come and get it signed!’

  I stumbled, desperately trying not to drop my pile of unwieldy books. Vita dodged round me and got to Jenna Williams first.

  ‘Hi, Jenna, I’m Vita. I just love your books,’ she said. ‘Will you put a girl called Vita in one of them?’

  ‘I might just do that. Vita’s a lovely name,’ said Jenna Williams.

  ‘I’m Maxie. My name’s already in a book about Wild Things,’ said Maxie.

  ‘I know. I like that Wild Thing book,’ said Jenna Williams.

  Gran was poking me in the back. ‘You go and say something, Em!’

  I still hung back, agonizingly shy.

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake, don’t tell me you’ve been struck dumb, when we’ve been queuing all these hours!’ said Gran. She shook her head at Jenna Williams. ‘Kids! And this one’s your number one fan, too!’

  Jenna Williams smiled at me. ‘Ah, are you Emily, the one who writes reindeer stories?’

  Molly’s dad grinned at me. I blushed to the roots of my hair.

  ‘Can I see your story for a minute, Emily?’ Jenna Williams asked.

  She helped m
e balance all my books and Jenny’s books on the table so that I could delve into my bag. I dropped Dancer in the process.

  ‘Oh, is this the reindeer puppet? I hear you’ve been doing a grand job entertaining the children in the queue. Go on, give me a demonstration.’

  I put Dancer on my hand. She had more courage than I did. She didn’t mind talking one bit.

  ‘I’m delighted to meet you, Jenna Williams,’ she said. ‘I’m flattered that you want to look at my story. Here it is.’

  She handed her book over to Jenna. She read a little bit, then flicked through the pages.

  ‘It looks wonderful, Emily! It’s such a great idea. Watch out, I might put it in one of my books!’

  ‘Emily and I would be thrilled if you do!’ said Dancer.

  ‘Maybe I’d better write “To Emily and Dancer” in your Emerald Sisters book,’ said Jenna Williams. ‘Hey, you’re wearing the perfect colour. And I love the matching green streak in your hair!’

  ‘It’s in your honour,’ said Dancer. ‘I wanted my antlers painted emerald-green too.’

  ‘I’m sure they’d have looked very fetching,’ said Jenna Williams.

  She signed the book that lovely Molly’s dad had bought for me, then my paperbacks, and then I managed to ask if she could sign all the hardbacks to Jenny. Her rings flashed and twinkled as she wrote her name over and over again. I looked at the big green ring on her little finger.

  ‘Is that a real emerald?’ I whispered.

  ‘Well, I like to pretend it is,’ she said. She smiled at me. ‘Writers are good at pretending.’ She gave me back my Dancer book. ‘I think you’re definitely going to be a writer yourself one day, Emily. It was lovely meeting you. And Vita and Maxie. And you too, Dancer.’

  Dancer waved her paw while I scrabbled with the other hand to get all my signed books back in my bag.

  Then Gran took me by the shoulders and steered me away. ‘There, happy now? I’m not sure that was worth all that long long wait!’ she said.

  ‘Still, how lovely that Jenna thinks Emily will be a writer too,’ said Molly’s dad.

  ‘You’ve been very kind to us all,’ said Gran. ‘Thank Molly’s dad for getting you the new book, Em – though we must pay for it.’

  ‘No, no, it’s a little gift to you for keeping Molly so happy while we were queuing. And are you happy now, Emily? Have all your wishes come true?’

  ‘Almost,’ I said. I felt my ring finger through Dancer’s fur, turning the emerald again.

  ‘Don’t, Em, that tickles!’ Dancer nagged. ‘Don’t waste your time wishing. Don’t you ever give up?’

  ‘No, I don’t!’ I hissed into her small felt ear. ‘You shut up for a minute! I’m sick of you hogging the limelight. You’re just a glove puppet, OK?’

  I shut my eyes and wished one more time.

  ‘Watch where you’re going, Emily, it’s so crowded,’ said Gran, steering me along through the crowded shop. ‘Vita? Maxie? For pity’s sake, why have you all got your eyes shut?’

  ‘Ssh, Gran, we’re all wishing,’ said Vita.

  ‘Wishing and wishing and wishing,’ said Maxie.

  ‘I give up!’ said Gran. ‘Now come on, open your eyes this minute and say goodbye to Molly and her family.’

  I’d screwed my eyes so tightly shut that everything was blurred for a moment. I blinked, trying to focus, as we pushed our way outside Addeyman’s, into the bright daylight. Vita blinked her long lashes as she gave Molly a big hug. Maxie rubbed his eyes and then opened them wide.

  He should have kept them shut. The man making the balloon animals was performing for the queue. He was dressed up in baggy white trousers, great big boots and a round red nose.

  ‘A clown!’ Maxie shrieked – and started running.

  ‘Oh Lord,’ Gran groaned. ‘Maxie! Come back here, you little silly! Em, go after him, quick!’

  I ran across the piazza after him. Maxie only had little stick legs, but blind panic made him run like the wind.

  ‘Stop, Maxie! Come back! You’ll get lost!’ I shouted.

  Maxie dodged in and out of the crowds, ran even harder away from the juggler on the unicycle – but then stopped dead, staring over at the silver lady.

  I rushed up to him. ‘Maxie, you’re so mad, you mustn’t run away like that!’ I shouted at him.

  He didn’t blink. He wasn’t listening to me. He stood transfixed, eyes huge, pointing at the silver dancing lady.

  ‘She’s just a lady pretending to be a statue, Maxie,’ I said. ‘Come on, back to Gran.’

  Maxie was so rigid I couldn’t move him. He shook his head wildly and kept pointing. I stared over at the silver lady. Someone had put a whole handful of coins in her plate, so she was twirling round and round while he clapped appreciatively, looking up at her.

  He had a scarf round his neck. A knitted scarf all different colours. A scarf just like the one I knitted Dad last Christmas.

  Who was this strange man wearing my dad’s scarf? He looked a little like Dad himself, but he was thinner, much more ordinary looking, with boring short black hair sticking straight up.

  The man was saying something to the girl. She was trying to get back into her statue pose but he was making her giggle. That was so like Dad.

  He put his head on one side, grinning.

  It was Dad.

  ‘Dad!’ I yelled. ‘Dad, Dad, Dad!’

  I pulled Maxie’s arm and we ran full tilt towards him.

  ‘Dad!’ Maxie shrieked.

  He looked round, startled, but he didn’t spot us. He said something else to the silver dancer and then started walking away.

  ‘Oh Dad, please, wait, wait!’ I shouted, running round the piazza, pushing people out the way.

  My eyes were fixed on Dad, terrified that he’d disappear.

  I forgot all about the unicyclist. I didn’t even see him. I careered straight into him, nearly knocking him flying. Maxie tumbled onto his knees, yelling. I staggered too, unbalanced by my huge bag of books. I hurtled forwards, arms out, desperate to catch my dad. I careered straight into him, sending him sideways. I reached out but I couldn’t grab him. I fell flat on my face, landing heavily on my arm.

  I lifted my head and screamed. ‘Dad!’

  ‘Em! Oh my God, Em!’ He was on his knees beside me, clutching me to him, cradling my head.

  ‘Oh Dad, oh Dad, is it really you?’ I sobbed. ‘Where’s your plait?’

  ‘Oh darling, never mind my wretched plait. What are you doing up in London? Are you all by yourself?’

  ‘I’m here, Dad!’ Maxie shouted, limping and hopping and hurling himself onto Dad.

  ‘My little Maxie! And you look as if you’re in the wars too! So where’s Vita?’

  ‘I’m here! Oh Daddy, my daddy!’ Vita yelled, running too, with Gran right behind her, shoes in her hand, her skirt hitched right up her hips.

  ‘Oh my Lord, it’s you, Frankie! I might have known! For pity’s sake, what have you done to the kids?’ Gran said. ‘Maxie, have you hurt yourself?’

  ‘Yes!’ said Maxie, clinging to Dad.

  ‘Poor little guy,’ said Dad. ‘What about you, Em? You went down with such a wallop.’

  ‘My arm hurts,’ I said, and I burst into tears.

  ‘I fell over too and I’m not crying!’ Maxie boasted.

  ‘What’s happened to Dancer?’ Vita wailed.

  I looked at Dancer on the end of my arm. Her antlers were bent and her delicate pink nose was torn right off.

  ‘We’ll mend Dancer, Vita, don’t worry. But we’ve got to get Em mended first. Here, let’s see what damage you’ve done.’ Dad started gently plucking at Dancer, trying to ease her off. I couldn’t help crying harder.

  ‘Stop it, you’re obviously hurting her!’ Gran said, kneeling down beside us. ‘Let me have a look, Em. Don’t cry so.’

  ‘I’m fine, really. Dad’s not hurting me a bit,’ I wept.

  Dad rocked me gently, peering at my arm. It was bent at a weird angle. It didn’
t seem to want to go straight any more.

  ‘I think you’ve broken it, you poor darling,’ said Dad. ‘Don’t worry, you can go to hospital and they’ll be able to plaster it up for you.’

  ‘Will you take me to the hospital, Dad?’

  Dad hesitated.

  ‘I’ll take you, Em,’ said Gran, trying to push Dad out the way.

  ‘I want my dad!’ I cried.

  ‘He’s my dad,’ said Vita.

  ‘My dad, my dad,’ said Maxie.

  Dad suddenly had tears in his eyes. ‘Yes, you’re all my lovely kids, and of course I’m taking you to the hospital, Princess Emerald. I’ll make all the doctors and nurses take excellent care of you, and we’ll demand an emerald-green plaster cast for your sore arm, OK?’

  ‘Can I have a plaster too, Dad?’ Maxie begged. ‘I want a broken arm!’

  ‘This is all your fault, Frankie, she was running after you,’ said Gran.

  ‘I know,’ said Dad, a tear rolling down his cheek.

  ‘Don’t cry, Dad! It’s not anyone’s fault. I just fell over. I’m a big fat lump.’

  ‘You’re not at all, my baby. You’ve changed so much. It’s so awful, I hardly recognized you!’

  Dad held me tightly, and Vita and Maxie. He clung to us as if he could never bear to let us go.

  ‘It’s no use just sitting there with everyone staring! Stop play-acting with the kids and get on your mobile for an ambulance, Frankie,’ said Gran. ‘We’ve got to get Em to hospital.’

  We didn’t go in an ambulance. Jenna Williams’s driver Bob had seen me falling. He came hurrying over to us.

  ‘My car’s just round the back of the shop in the loading bay. I’ll get you to hospital in five minutes. It’ll be quicker than waiting for an ambulance to get here. You’re being such a brave girl,’ he said to me, hauling my book bag on his back. Dad and Gran helped me up and we went round the back of the shop to the loading bay. We couldn’t believe it when we saw the big shiny silver car.

  ‘It’s a Mercedes!’ Gran hissed.

  ‘I feel like a real princess!’ said Vita, bouncing on the leather upholstery.

  ‘I’m going to sit on Dad’s lap in the posh car,’ said Maxie.

  Dad sat in the back with us, one arm round Vita, one arm round me, with Maxie on his knee. Gran sat in the front next to Bob.