Diary of a Lottery Winner's Daughter

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Diary of a Lottery Winner's Daughter Page 10

by Penelope Bush


  All they could talk about was what they were going to wear next Friday because it’s a Wear Your Own Clothes Day in aid of charity. Why are they getting so excited? It’s not until next week. Do they need that long to plan it?

  I hate it when we have to wear our own clothes to school. It brings me out in a cold sweat. I know that’s stupid and it’s not like it’s important or anything; but this time I just want to blend in, so I can hardly go in Spencer’s old cast-offs. There’s no way I’m going clothes shopping though. Not even with Mum. The whole thing’s making me feel sick. Perhaps I could pretend to be ill and have next Friday off.

  At lunchtime I couldn’t face going into the canteen on my own. What if I couldn’t find anyone to sit with? I didn’t want to give Stacy another excuse to laugh at me.

  I wandered along the main corridor pretending to be studying the noticeboards. I got to the after-school clubs board and my spirits plummeted even further. It reminded me of when Lauren and I had been friends and couldn’t decide on a club. And how we’d decided not to go to one if we couldn’t be together. And then I saw it. Her name added to the bottom of the choir list. And above it, naturally, was Stacy’s name. I thought I couldn’t get any more depressed!

  I finally caught up with Annabel on the way home. I had a good complain about Stacy all the way up the hill which made me feel better. I explained that Stacy’s cartoon didn’t have anything to do with me. When we got to the top I invited her back to my house because I wanted to make sure she knew I wasn’t being horrible to her.

  ‘I can’t,’ she said,’ not tonight.’She looked really disappointed. I was about to say goodbye when she said,’ But you could come to mine, if you want. It’s my turn to cook the dinner tonight, though, so you can’t stay long.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said.

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Annabel. I think we both felt a bit awkward.

  We turned in at a big gate, a bit like ours, and I saw that, as I’d thought, she lived in an enormous house. But then she led me round the side and up a ramp to a door which had a separate bell. Flat B - Conners was written above it. Annabel was looking nervous. ‘I don’t usually have friends round,’ she said. I got the feeling she meant she’d never had a friend round. She opened the door with her key and we went inside.

  ‘Mum! I’m home,’ called Annabel. ‘I’ve brought a friend.’

  Mrs Conners came bustling out into the hall. Or as much as you can bustle when you’re in a wheelchair. Annabel introduced me to her mum and then took me to her room. It was very neat and tidy, I noticed, and then realised it would have to be if her mum was going to get in there with her wheelchair. I imagined her coming in to wake Annabel up in the morning, like my mum does. Then I wondered if she did, or if Annabel had to go and help her mum get dressed or something, or was there someone else to do that?

  ‘Is it just you and your mum?’ I plucked up the courage to ask.

  ‘Yes,’ said Annabel. ‘It’s always been just me and my mum. That’s why I couldn’t go back to your place. At least not without a bit of notice. Mum can do most things herself but I have to help out a lot.’I remembered the shopping. And the fact that she had to cook tea tonight.

  ‘There is someone who comes in,’ said Annabel,’ but now that I’m older and with the cutbacks and everything, they don’t come so often. I could probably come round to yours for a couple of hours tomorrow,’ she added hopefully. ‘I don’t like to go out too much in the evenings during the week because I’m at school all day. Mum’s always trying to get me to do more stuff out of the house but I don’t like to leave her.’

  We spent the rest of the time looking at her books and she lent me a couple of them.

  When I left, Annabel came with me because she’d forgotten to pick up some milk on the way home so she’d have to go to the newsagent on the corner of our street to get some. How lucky am I? If I want milk, I just go to the fridge. I never gave a thought as to how it got there. I don’t envy Annabel all her extra responsibilities. To think I’d invented a family for Annabel with older parents and a huge house. I really must stop jumping to conclusions about people. You can never tell what someone’s like just by looking at them.

  We said goodbye outside the shop and, as she went in, Belinda from next door was coming out so I walked the rest of the way home with her.

  I didn’t say much - I was secretly worrying about Friday and what to wear and hoping that Stacy didn’t wear the clothes she’d tricked me into buying for her because that would be too much for me to bear.

  ‘What’s up?’ said Belinda. ‘You look like you want to kill someone.’

  Hmm, am I that easy to read? I really must work on my poker face. Anyway, I could hardly tell Belinda about all my problems so in the end I told her about Wear Your Own Clothes Day and how I didn’t have anything to wear. I said I hated the way people judged you on what you were wearing.

  ‘It’s like that girl I was with just now,’ I explained. ‘Everyone’s really mean to her because she doesn’t dress right .

  ‘She looks just like I did at her age,’ said Belinda. I looked at her, with her long dreadlocks and big boots and little skirt.

  ‘No, really,’ said Belinda, laughing.’I didn’t always look like this. It took me years to work out who I really was and what I wanted to wear. When I was fourteen I looked very conservative and was quite overweight and I didn’t fit in. I wish I’d had a friend like you who realised it didn’t matter, though. Most of the other kids were pretty mean to me.’

  I hesitated. I was about to tell Belinda that I wasn’t really friends with Annabel. Three weeks ago I hardly even knew she existed. But the truth was I liked Annabel. I wanted to be friends with her. Ijust wished she didn’t look like such a geek. Argh! I can’t believe I just said that. What had I said to Belinda about hating the way people judged you on what you were wearing? I am such a hypocrite.

  When we reached Belinda’s gate she said I could come in and see if she had any clothes I could borrow. I must have looked confused; she’s so much bigger than me.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she laughed. ‘I run an online clothes business. I’ve got loads of stuff in there. There’s bound to be something that will fit you.’

  And that’s how I ended up in Belinda’s flat trying on clothes. It was fun with her. When I go shopping for clothes, I always end up looking at the kids’ clothes because I’m so small. I can fit into the eight-to-ten-year-old stuff which is one of the reasons I hate shopping so much.

  Their flat was fairly small but really nice. There were interesting things everywhere; sort of like a cross between a museum and a junk shop. I could have spent ages just looking. Even the things that are usually boring, like picture frames, were interesting. Belinda had stuck things onto them. One picture had a feather boa stuck all round the frame and another was made out of cutlery, all sort of melted together into a silver frame, but you could still see that they’d been forks, knives and spoons. There were some big African drums in the corner that they seemed to be using as a table because there was a mug and some leaflets on the top.

  Belinda took me into a room at the back that was completely full of clothes except for one corner where there was a desk with a computer on it.

  ‘I’ve got my own website,’ said Belinda,’ but I sell through other websites as well. My website is vintage clothes but really I sell anything. If I see something in a charity shop or at a jumble sale or a boot fair that’s cheap and I think I can get more for it, then I buy it.’She smiled and indicated the piles of clothes.

  Now I could see that there was some order to the room. On the left was a jumbled pile of clothes and on the right they were neatly folded or hung on rails. There was an ironing board in the middle.

  ‘If I pull something out and you don’t like it, just say so,’ said Belinda. ‘You won’t be hurting my feelings or anything. What’s important is that you feel good in your clothes.’

  By the time Belinda had finished with me I had a brilliant
new outfit. We started with the feet and she found a pair of ankle boots in my size, then some leggings and a skirt. I wasn’t sure about the skirt at first because I don’t usually wear them, but Belinda got me to try it on. It was short, but not too short, and even though it flared out it didn’t make me look like a little kid so I kept it on. Then she handed me a top that I thought looked fairly boring until she matched it with a jacket. The jacket was hooded and knitted but it had a strip of fur all round the edges and round the rim of the hood. I fell in love with it at once and decided not to take it off.

  I left feeling amazing, and with a huge smile on my face.

  When I got home and walked into the kitchen Mum looked impressed.

  ‘Have you been shopping?’ she asked.

  I told her about my dilemma and how Belinda had helped me.

  ‘Well, I must say, you look nice. If you want I’ll buy them for you.’

  For the first time ever I was actually looking forward to Wear Your Own Clothes Day.

  Saturday 13th November

  Mum and Dad went out this morning to get some stuff because Dad’s redecorating the spare room.

  Chelsea was meant to be looking after us but she disappeared as soon as Mum and Dad had driven away. She knew Spencer and I wouldn’t rat on her. I wonder if she knew how relieved we were that she’d gone out.

  We were making our lunch, before Annabel was due to arrive, and I was thinking about something that had happened at the end of school on Friday.

  I had been getting my things together when I’d heard Stacy say to Lauren in a very loud voice so that I couldn’t fail to hear,’ Some people think they’re so much better than us. They don’t want to associate with us because we live on the Ratcliffe estate.’

  I was furious. Whose house did she think she was living in?

  Who was it that wasn’t talking to who?

  I was about to say something but they turned their backs on me and Stacy said,’ Come on, Lauren, or we’ll be late for choir practice.’

  I was still furious about it and I said to Spencer as we ate out toasted sandwiches,’ I’m glad Chelsea dropped that hate campaign against Sophie. I think it’s silly that people don’t like each other because of where they live or how much money they’ve got. I thought for a moment that there was going to be an all out battle earlier this term but it seems to have died down now. I haven’t heard anything about it for ages.’

  Spencer looked at me as if I’d gone mad or sprouted another head or something.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘What planet have you been living on?’ said Spencer.

  ‘What?’ I said again only louder this time. ‘What have I missed?’

  ‘I know you’re stuck in the servants’ quarters but you must have heard the rows that have been going on,’ said Spencer.

  ‘No,’ I said. I had heard some doors slamming and some raised voices but, once I’m in my room with the door shut and stuck in a good book, the rest of the house might as well not exist. Besides, Chelsea was always slamming doors and shouting.

  Spencer was shaking his head and looking at me in disbelief. ‘You’re seriously telling me you don’t know what’s going on?’

  WHAT?’I shouted. ‘Tell me!’

  ‘Okay,’ said Spencer. ‘Basically, Chelsea has stopped going to school. Mum’s doing her nut about it but now Chelsea’s sixteen and in the Sixth Form she doesn’t have to go.’

  ‘Stopped going to school?’I repeated, moronically.

  ‘Yeah, you know, as in “Not Going”.’ Spencer said the last two words really slowly like he was explaining to a very dumb person. And I must have looked pretty dumb, sat there with my mouth open.

  ‘Come on,’ said Spencer. ‘You must have noticed. Or did you think she’d been super-glued to the sofa?’

  Now I come to think about it, Chelsea has been either stuck to the sofa or soaking in the new spa bath whenever I’d seen her lately. The trouble is I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems I haven’t really noticed what anyone else has been doing. That’s the problem with living in such a big house. There’s no way something so major would have escaped me in the old house.

  ‘Mum’s tried everything,’ said Spencer. ‘She’s even cut Chelsea’s allowance and threatened to take her phone away and the new laptop she got for her birthday because when she’s not watching telly she’s on Facebook. I reckon she thinks that because Mum and Dad won the lottery she’s not going to need a job, so she doesn’t need to go to school. Talk about thick!’

  I wanted to agree with him but actually I was quite worried about Chelsea. Was she just going to spend the rest of her life watching television? But what can I do about it? I’m the last person in the world she ever wants to talk to.

  Then Annabel arrived and we stopped talking about Chelsea. Annabel and I decided to make some cakes and Spencer thought he’d go and do some homework.

  ‘Your brother’s nice,’ said Annabel when Spencer had disappeared through the door.

  I had to agree with her that, as brothers went, he wasn’t bad at all.

  When the cakes were cooking in the oven we went outside to explore the garden. It reminded me of the last time Lauren had been here and hadn’t wanted to do anything and how I’d worried all the time that she was bored. Annabel was so easy-going I don’t think she’d have complained if I’d suggested we cleaned the house.

  Sunday 14th November

  When I woke up I carried on reading one of the books Annabel had lent me and when I finally made it down to the kitchen Mum was looking slightly harassed.

  ‘What’s up?’ I asked her.

  ‘I know it’s only Pam and Gary, and Lauren of course, and they won’t mind if everything’s not perfect but I would like it to be nice. I never had room at the other house to give dinner parties or anything. I know it’s silly to be nervous but I can’t help it.’

  While I was helping her to peel the vegetables my stomach was churning. Mum wasn’t the only one who was nervous. Finally, I was going to get Lauren on her own. I’d get the chance to explain to her about how I came to buy Stacy those clothes. She’d have to listen to me this time -there was no one to butt in.

  But I wondered if maybe I should ignore her when she turned up, like she’s been ignoring me at school. The trouble is, if Mum noticed she’d be furious and tell me off for being bad-mannered.

  I almost told Mum that Lauren and I had fallen out. But then Mum would tell Pam and Pam might tell Lauren off and make her be nice to me and I didn’t want someone to be my friend because their mum told them they had to! I let out a huge sigh.

  ‘Goodness,’ said Mum,’ whatever’s wrong?’

  I couldn’t tell her about Lauren and Stacy so I ended up telling her about Annabel and her mum and the wheelchair and Annabel doing the shopping and cooking. Mum hadn’t met Annabel yesterday when she came round because she’d been out with Dad picking new wallpaper for Morticia’s boudoir. I was sort of glad because I didn’t want to rub it in that I not only lived in a big, nice house but that I also had a fully functioning mum and a dad and a brother and sister. Which was silly really because there are thousands of people who do, just as there are thousands of people who don’t.

  Chelsea’s not around today, even though Mum made it clear that lunch was a family affair and everyone was expected to be here. No one knows where she’s gone but she is going to be in so much trouble when she gets back.

  When Lauren was due I went up to Mum and Dad’s bedroom to peek out the window at them when they arrived. I’d already told Mum to tell Lauren I was in my bedroom. I thought it would be easier than greeting them at the door because I didn’t know how Lauren was going to behave towards me. But when their car drew up in the drive, only Pam and Gary got out. I couldn’t believe it. Lauren hadn’t even come. All my nervous excitement drained away and left me with a horrible empty feeling.

  I went back to my bedroom and curled up on the bean-bag. Ignoring all my new books I picked up the first Har
ry Potter. I’m going to read all of them again. It’s nice to lose myself in something familiar that gives me a warm feeling, when nothing else feels right.

  Spencer came to get me when it was time for lunch. He saw what I was reading and smiled. Spencer used to love Harry Potter as well and a couple of years ago we used to play it all the time. We had an invisibility cloak (an old net curtain) and wands (chopsticks from the takeaway) and a real broomstick Grumps said he’d found in his shed but I think he went out and bought it especially for us. Of course Spencer’s too old for those games now, which is a pity because it would be great to play them in this house. I’ve still got all the things hidden under my bed and sometimes I get out the wand and pretend to cast spells. Though actually I haven’t done that since my wishes started to come true. I haven’t dared.

  When I sat down at the table Pam looked really shocked.

  ‘Charlotte! What are you doing here? I thought you were at that choir thing with Lauren. If I’d known you were going to be here I would have insisted Lauren came, choir or no choir.’

  So Lauren hadn’t told her mum about us falling out.

  ‘I’m not in the choir, I’m tone deaf - can’t sing a note in tune,’ I explained, trying to sound cheerful.

  ‘Well, that’s very strange,’ said Pam.’I’m certain Lauren said she was going with you. Gary, didn’t Lauren say she was going with Charlotte?’

  ‘She certainly said she was meeting her best friend there,’ said Gary, helping himself to another roast potato. His hand stopped halfway back to his plate and a sort of stillness descended on everyone round the table as the meaning of that sank in. I was staring at my plateful of food and wishing I wasn’t there. And then everyone started talking at the same time. ‘This is a lovely meal.’ ‘Could you pass the carrots, please?’ ‘Where did you buy the beef?’

 

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