‘So you don’t live in the hotel?’ said Mum. ‘I thought if I got a job as a maid then they’d let me have a room for me and the kids.’
‘You’re not much more than a kid yourself,’ she said. ‘The staff don’t live in here. They’d never let you keep the children here anyway. Look, maybe you should go down the social?’
‘No fear! I’m not having them poking their noses into my past.’
‘They won’t. They’ll help. Still, maybe you know best. Are you going to put yourself down on the housing list?’
‘I don’t see how we can. I mean, I lived in a council flat back home. I had to walk out, see. But they’ll say I deliberately made myself homeless. And I’m scared they’d take the kids into care.’
‘Well, try one of the special housing associations. They found my sister Elise a lovely place when she left her husband. Well, she’s made it lovely now, her and her kids. Shall I give her a quick ring, find out the association address for you? It’s a charity but they don’t make you feel bad. And they’d never try to take your kids away. Anyone can see you’re a brilliant mum.’
She was so kind Mum tried to give her more money but she wouldn’t take it. She stowed our bags away when we got packed up and kissed us all and wished us luck. ‘You’re going to be lucky in life from now on, I can tell,’ she said.
Mum’s face lit up. ‘Yeah, that’s me, Lady Luck,’ she said.
She took me by one hand and Kendall by the other and we set off. Mum sang all the lucky songs she could think of while we got the tube to the housing association place.
We were on the tube so long it was like we’d made a journey into the centre of the earth. When we emerged at last I pretended to Kendall that we were in Australia now and told him to watch out for koalas and kangaroos.
‘And sharks!’ said Kendall. ‘They have sharks in the sea in Australia. Let’s go to the seaside.’
‘Will you quit winding him up, Lola Rose,’ Mum snapped.
She was looking at the tacky parade of shops and the scattered French fries on the pavement and the boys goofing around outside the video shop.
‘It’s a bit of a dump, isn’t it? Maybe it’s a bit daft wanting to live here. There must be heaps of housing associations.’
‘Yeah, but it’s so out the way, Mum, it feels kind of safe. Dad wouldn’t ever come looking for us here, would he? And yet all the time we’re wandering around the West End you feel there’s a chance he might come barging round the corner.’
‘I want Dad to come round the corner,’ said Kendall. ‘I want Dad. I want to go home. I don’t like Australia.’
‘It’s not Australia, you nut,’ I said, laughing at him. ‘It was just a joke.’
‘Don’t joke, Jayni!’ said Kendall, and he started hitting me with his fists, with George, with his hard little head.
‘Hey, hey! Ouch! Stop it, Kendall!’ I said, scooping him up and whirling him round and round.
I could usually cheer him out of a tantrum that way. It didn’t work this time. He just sobbed dismally.
‘Don’t, Kendall,’ I said, shifting him onto my hip.
‘I’m Kenny!’ he wept.
‘Poor little kid, he doesn’t know who he is or where’s he going,’ said Mum. ‘You shouldn’t have got him all wound up with that Australia lark.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Kendall.’
‘Kenny!’
‘No. Not any more,’ said Mum, cupping his damp face and looking straight into his eyes. ‘This bit isn’t a joke, darling. You and me and Jayni, we’ve all run away. Run away for good. We’ve run away from your dad because he kept hitting me.’
‘Because you were bad,’ said Kenny.
‘Mum’s not bad, you stupid little boy!’ I said, giving him a shake.
‘Leave him be, Jayni. He’s only parrotting your dad. He doesn’t really mean it,’ said Mum. ‘Now listen, sweetheart. No one ever deserves to get hit. You shouldn’t ever hit anyone. You’re a good boy. And Jayni’s a good girl and I’m not going to risk either of you getting hurt. So we’re starting our new life and we’re going to make it work, right?’
‘Right!’ I said. I nudged Kendall. ‘Say right!’
‘Wrong,’ Kendall mumbled into the pink fur of my denim jacket, but now he was joking.
He behaved like a little lamb in the housing association office. ‘I’m Kendall Luck and I’m five years old,’ he announced to everyone. His eyelashes were still wet and his little peaky face looked very earnest.
Everyone smiled and said, ‘Bless him!’
It was Kenny who got us a home. We waited for ages and then a lady with glasses took down all our details. Mum was fine at first, making up all sorts of stuff, sounding so convincing, even though she was going nibble nibble on her thumbnail. But then we were led into another big room full of waiting people. It took another age before it was our turn to see anyone and then Mum had to start all over again saying the same stuff to a man with a beard while he filled in another form.
I knew Mum wouldn’t be able to remember every little detail of her story. She’d been making it up as she went along. She had a stab at it, gabbling quicker and quicker to get it over with, but she got stuck when they asked about our schools. She’d made up a name before and they’d written it down. Mum tried to remember it, a vein standing out on her forehead. She looked at me desperately.
‘Tell them the name of your school, Jayni,’ she said.
Jayni.
I started saying something quick but the man wasn’t listening. He put down his pen. ‘Jayni?’ he said. He looked at me. ‘I though you were called Lola?’
‘She is; Lola Rose. Jayni’s just a silly nickname – Jayni-Payni, we’ve called her that for fun since she was little,’ Mum said.
It was clear the man with the beard didn’t believe a word she was saying. ‘Mrs Luck, I get the feeling you’ve been a little economical with the truth,’ he said. ‘Some of your details don’t quite add up. You need to be completely frank with us about your previous domestic circumstances. Now I’m sure you’ve got your reasons—’
‘Yes, I’ve got my bloody reasons,’ said Mum, going red. She yanked at her blouse and showed the man the bruises, still as purple as pansies. ‘We’re running away from the guy who did this to me, right? He’s started on his daughter too – there’ll be no stopping him now. I’m trying to make a fresh start and do my best for my kids. There’s no going back. He’ll kill us.’
‘Have you been to the police?’
Mum snorted. ‘What are they going to do?’
‘Lock him up?’
‘For how long? And what about his mates? And what happens when he’s let out? What happens to us then?’
‘I take your point, Mrs Luck. I do understand.’
‘No you don’t. You can take my point and shove it straight up your bottom,’ said Mum, standing up. ‘I suppose you’re not going to find us somewhere to live now?’
‘That sort of abuse isn’t helpful, certainly. I will still try to help you but I can’t work miracles. I’ll put your family on our waiting list.’
‘And what are we supposed to do meanwhile? Sit in the gutter for six months?’
Mum called him a very very rude name and then stood up. ‘Come on, kids, we’re going. This is a waste of time.’
Kenny looked at his hands. He looked at the chair he’d been sitting on. He looked under it. His mouth went into a letter-box shape and he started howling.
He howled and howled and howled. He wouldn’t stop when I picked him up. He wouldn’t stop when Mum picked him up. He wouldn’t stop when the lady with glasses brought him a biscuit.
‘What’s the matter with him?’ said the bearded man.
‘He can’t take any more,’ Mum bellowed above the wails. ‘It’s all too much for him. We’ve been on the run for weeks now. I promised him I’d get him a home today. He just wants to feel safe.’
Everyone fussed over Kendall and looked at the bearded man as i
f he were deliberately torturing my little brother. Luckily Kendall was crying too hard to draw breath and say what it was he wanted.
‘Well, I suppose we might be able to put you in the emergency category. There is a property available – it’s not ideal, and it’s not in good decorative order, but if it’ll act as a stop-gap . . . ?’
We were given the key to our new home just like that. We had to whizz Kenny away sharpish before he started going on about George.
We hunted for him all the way down the road back to the station but we didn’t catch a glimpse of furry fin. He must have been left on the tube.
Mum took Kenny into the hotel to thank the lovely fat maid and collect our suitcases. She furtively pressed three fivers into my hand. She didn’t have to tell me what to do. I ran all the way to the aquarium, begged to be let straight into the gift shop, and bought George the Second.
Our new home was the middle flat of a small, damp Edwardian house with a tarpaulin over the roof and nettles rioting in the garden. The front door was warped so we had to put our shoulders against it before it would budge. The hallway was littered with freebie papers and advertising circulars so we had to kick our way through them.
Our flat was up one flight of stairs. We had a living room with a kitchen area in one corner, a tiny bedroom and a toilet with a shower and basin. The walls were a dirty cream like sour milk, with black mould in the corners. The windowsills were wet with condensation, the wood soft and rotten. The curtains hung limply against the damp glass. There was a stained carpet covering most of the living-room floor and a greasy cooker and a fridge – but no proper furniture.
Mum and Kendall and I walked round the flat. We walked round it again.
‘Where is everything?’ Kendall asked.
‘You may well ask,’ said Mum. She looked like she was going to start crying any minute.
‘Where is everything?’ I said quickly, copying Kendall.
She frowned at me – and then cottoned on. ‘You may well ask,’ she said.
‘Where is everything?’ Kendall and I chorused.
‘You may well ask,’ said Mum.
We went through this crazy routine over and over again, rushing round the room, gabbling it faster and faster until the words became gobbledegook. We ended up in a giggly heap on the carpet.
‘Oh, quick, get up, kids, it’s so dirty!’ said Mum, pulling a face. ‘We’ll have to get carpet shampoo and lots of Flash. And three scrubbing brushes. And we’ll buy some paint, brighten the place up. What colour, Lola Rose?’
‘Purple!’
‘Purple? OK, blow it, purple it is. We can have a purple bedroom, bed, carpet, rug, curtains. We can even paint you purple and all, if that’s what you want.’
‘And a purple living room?’
‘No, it’s my turn. I rather fancy a black and white theme, dead stylish, white walls, black leather furniture – with a zebra-striped rug on the floor. And I’ll recline on it in a black negligée, yeah?’
‘Eating black and white humbugs! Kendall, are you going to choose the bathroom colours? You could have turquoise like your horrible aquarium. We’ll have a big glass tank for a bath and you can swim around inside it with George.’
‘Don’t start him off!’ said Mum. ‘She’s just joking, Kendall.’
‘What about my purple bedroom, Mum? Is that a joke too?’
‘No, we’re going to do a total Changing Rooms on this old dump, I promise you, darling. Money no object. Well, within reason.’
We were told about this special charity stores place where you got given all kinds of furniture if you were in need. Mum still had wads and wads of lottery money left but she’d started to worry about it now. We did go into town to look at furniture but one big squashy leather three-piece suite was three thousand pounds!
‘Blow that for a lark. We’ll see what these stores have got. If it’s all a lot of flea-infested old rubbish then we’ll just say no thanks, right?’ said Mum.
But we said yes please, yes please. We even got a black leather sofa! It was old and cracked, but it still looked lovely. We found two black velvet chairs that almost matched and a fluffy rug that came up white after a good scrubbing. We got a double bed too, though Mum bought a brand-new mattress because she said she felt funny about sleeping in someone else’s bedding. She bought a deep purple duvet cover just to please me, and spent a whole day painting the walls lilac.
I made her a special card with some of my best Victorian scraps, a big bright heart and bunches of lilies and roses and a host of angels swooping up and down like bungee jumpers. I wrote inside, ‘You are an angel, Mum. XXX from Lola Rose’, and I stuck a big red rose beside my name. Kendall added a wobbly K and his own kisses.
I put it in a proper envelope and then pretended it had been delivered by the postman. We didn’t get any real post because no one knew where we were. No one knew us at all. This wasn’t like a holiday any more. This was our new life.
I kept thinking about my old life and my old friends. They’d think it so weird that I’d vanished into thin air. Thick air. Mum was smoking more and more to steady her nerves. Our flat was grey with smoke haze. It made me cough but Mum said I was putting it on. Maybe I was, just a little bit.
Kendall coughed a lot too, but that was because he cried a lot. I suppose he was missing Dad. He often called out for him when he woke up in the night. Sometimes he didn’t wake up quite quick enough and wet the bed. Mum threatened to put Kendall back in nappies if he did it again. He did, so Mum tucked a towel into his pants. Kendall howled with humiliation.
‘You shouldn’t get so cross with him, Mum. He can’t help it. He’s just upset.’
‘Yeah, well, I shall be upset if he ruins that brand-new mattress. And you can stop being so mealy-mouthed, Miss Goody-Goody Two-Shoes,’ said Mum. ‘You don’t half get on my nerves sometimes, Jayni.’
‘Lola Rose.’
‘OK, Lola Flipping Fancy-Pants Rose, just you remember I’m your mum. Stop acting like you’re my big sister, for God’s sake. You’re not meant to tell me what to do. I’ll do what I like, see.’
Mum looked in her handbag for her cigarettes. The packet was empty. ‘Oh, bum. Run down the road to the corner shop, Jay—Lola Rose.’
‘It’s gone ten, Mum. It’ll be shut.’
It had taken hours to settle Kendall. He’d had one of his crying fits. He was still snuffling in his sleep.
Mum bit her thumbnail agitatedly. ‘For God’s sake, I’m not going all night without a fag, I’m gasping. Look, there must be a pub somewhere. I’ll nip out and buy myself some cigarettes from the machine. You go to bed, OK?’
‘OK,’ I said uncertainly. I didn’t want her to go out in the dark by herself just in case something happened to her.
‘You’ll be fine, silly,’ Mum said, not understanding. ‘If there’s any emergency then go and get someone in the house to help. Maybe not the old lady, she’s a bit gone in the head, but the lads up above seem fine.’
We’d got to the stage of nodding at our new neighbours. Miss Parker, the old lady, proved a real nosy parker and asked all kinds of questions. We got worried, but she asked the exact same questions the next day and the next. It was obvious she didn’t remember a word we told her.
Steve and Andy, the two men who lived in the flat above us, looked a bit peeved the first time we met them. We were coming up the stairs loaded with shopping bags from Tesco. Kendall was howling because he’d fallen over, Mum was shouting at him for being a big baby, I was moaning because there had been a special offer on Sara Lee chocolate cake and she wouldn’t buy it. We were probably making quite a lot of noise.
Mum stopped shouting and smiled at Steve, the tall handsome one. Andy, the smaller guy with glasses, said hi to Kendall and me and helped us haul the shopping bags through to our kitchen. He told us their names. I said I was Lola Rose. Steve raised his eyebrows but Andy said he thought it was a beautiful name.
Steve acted like he was too grand to talk to us. H
e did seem too grand for this dump of a house. Andy was much more matey and told us how their old flat had been repossessed and so they’d had to come here.
‘On a temporary basis,’ said Steve.
‘But we’ve still made it into our little home,’ said Andy. ‘And I love the way you’ve done up your flat, Lola Rose. It looks really great, especially the purple bedroom. Very artistic.’
I liked Andy much more than Steve. I still didn’t think I could rush to him in an emergency though.
I hated that word. The moment Mum left our flat EMERGENCY flashed in my mind like neon lighting. Phantom alarms clanged in my head. My heart went thud thud thud inside my chest.
It was very quiet in the flat. We didn’t have a television yet so I couldn’t switch it on to make things sound normal. Miss Parker’s telly buzzed down below, as if people were whispering bad things about me beneath my feet. Steve and Andy walked round upstairs and every time their floorboards creaked I jumped.
I kept going to check the door to make sure it was locked. I imagined someone was outside, listening, ready to shove his shoulder to the door and come bursting in. I peered out into the garden to make sure no one was creeping up on us. I could only see my own face reflected in the glass. It reminded me of the aquarium. I shut the curtains quick.
I wanted to huddle into a ball on the old leather sofa. No, I wanted to hide behind it like a really little kid. But Kendall was in the bedroom and I had to keep an eye on him. I considered climbing into bed beside him but I didn’t want to take my clothes off and lie down in the dark. I needed to be fully dressed and on my toes.
I patrolled the flat. It still seemed horribly empty even now we had the stuff from the stores. It only took a few seconds to check each room. It didn’t really help.
When I was in the bedroom I was sure someone was lurking in the living room, slyly cracking open a can of beer, sitting there on the sofa, waiting. When I was in the living room I felt someone might have got behind the door in the bathroom, ready to pounce. When I dared go into the bathroom, pushing the door inch by inch, I was sure someone had climbed through the bedroom window and was pulling Kendall out of bed, hand over his mouth to stop him screaming.
Lola Rose Page 6
