Lola Rose

by Jacqueline Wilson

  ‘Can I speak to Victoria Luck, please?’ I said. I spoke so deep down in my chest that I had to repeat myself twice before she understood.

  ‘Which ward is she on?’

  ‘I – I don’t know which ward.’ I didn’t want to say the word but I didn’t have any choice. ‘It’s the cancer ward.’

  ‘It’ll probably be Florence. I’ll put you through.’

  I breathed out, my hand over my pounding heart. After a long time someone answered on Florence Ward.

  ‘Can I speak to Victoria Luck?’ I asked, my throat hurting.

  ‘Who’s speaking, please?’

  I didn’t know what to say. Her mother? Her sister? ‘Her friend.’

  It was the wrong decision.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, I’m afraid it’s not possible.’

  ‘But I’m grown up, honestly.’

  ‘I’m afraid we don’t use the ward phones for friends.’

  ‘Can’t you just tell me if she’s all right? Please!’

  ‘I suggest you contact Mrs Luck’s husband and ask him,’ she said.

  ‘Well, you can suggest all you like, Miss Snotnose Meaniepants, but Dad doesn’t know and I wouldn’t ring him even if he did,’ I shouted and then switched the mobile off.

  Kendall blinked at me. I wondered if I could coach him till he sounded like Dad. I knew it was hopeless.

  I tried to think of all the possibilities. I could go upstairs and ask Andy to ring for me. Though Andy and Steve weren’t speaking to us. And if they knew Kendall and I were on our own they’d maybe tell someone.

  I could try to find Jake. But I didn’t know where he was living now.

  I could go along the road and ask Harpreet’s dad to ring for me. He’d help. But Harpreet’s mum would definitely report us.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I wailed. I slumped on the floor, my head on my knees. I could feel my blood beating, even ticking in my eyelids, Mum-Mum-Mum-Mum-Mum.

  ‘Are you crying?’ Kendall whispered.

  I didn’t answer. I kept my face hidden. I could hear Kendall breathing noisily above me. He nudged me with his shoe.

  ‘Lola Rose?’

  I didn’t feel like Lola Rose. I didn’t even feel like Jayni. I was withering away into no one.

  I wanted Mum so badly. I had to bite my lips to stop myself calling for her. What if she wasn’t all right? What if the operation had gone wrong? What if she’d died?

  ‘You are crying,’ said Kendall.

  ‘I’m not. I just need to know if Mum’s all right.’

  ‘Let’s go and find her then,’ said Kendall.

  I thought about it. Mum had said we mustn’t. But we had to know. We couldn’t just wait day after day.

  ‘OK. We’ll go to the hospital,’ I said. ‘We’ll find Mum and see how she is.’

  I wiped my eyes, stuffed Kendall into his jacket, tucked George under his arm, and then we set off. I didn’t have enough money for a minicab so we went to the bus stop.

  I asked the driver how to get to the hospital. He said he didn’t have a clue, it wasn’t on his route. But an old woman witting at the front said she’d been sent to the eye clinic there, and we needed to get out at the flyover and change to a number 88. She made me sit down beside her and pulled Kendall right onto her lap. He fidgeted tensely. She clasped him tightly round the tummy. He can’t stand his tummy being touched. I hoped he wasn’t going to make a fuss.

  She was trying to be kind but she kept asking nosy questions. I made up this whole story about visiting our sick granny, our mum meeting us at the hospital. Kendall frowned.

  ‘Keep still, Mr Fidget-bottom,’ said the old lady.

  Kendall slumped sideways, whispering to George.

  The bus ride lasted for ever but we got to the flyover at last. The old lady waved to both of us. I waved back, trying to look grateful, but Kendall ducked his head.

  ‘I didn’t like her,’ he said. ‘I could feel her knicker elastic through her skirt. Yuck!’ He shuddered. ‘She’s not our gran, is she?’

  ‘Of course not. We haven’t got a gran.’

  ‘But you said we had.’ Kendall sighed. ‘You keep telling stories. I can’t remember who we’ve got and who we haven’t.’

  ‘We haven’t got anyone except you and me and Mum. And we’re going to see Mum now. It will be a lovely surprise for her.’

  ‘Is that true or is that another story?’

  ‘It’s true as true as true,’ I said over and over.

  I chanted it on the 88 bus all the way to the hospital. It was a huge place. It took us ages even to find our way across the car park. A man at the entrance told us we couldn’t come in without an adult. I said quick as a wink we were with our dad but he was still trying to find somewhere to park. He’d sent us ahead to buy our mum some flowers from the gift shop. The man nodded and let us in, but he watched as we squeaked along the polished floor in our trainers.

  ‘We’ll really buy Mum some flowers,’ I said.

  ‘How did you know to come out with all that stuff?’ Kendall hissed.

  ‘I’m just inventive, I suppose.’

  My inventions meant we spent nearly all our money on a bunch of flowers that already looked a bit droopy. I told Kendall it was the thought that counted.

  We got in a lift, having to squash up against the wall because a lady in a bed on wheels was already inside. She looked very ill. Every time the lift jerked she groaned. Kendall slipped his hand into mine. The nurse pushing the bed gave us a smile.

  ‘Where are you off to, kids?’ she asked.

  ‘We’re going to see our mum.’

  ‘Where’s Dad?’

  ‘He’s up there already,’ I said.

  I seemed to be inventing multiple dads – in the car park, in the ward. I had it all worked out in my head that Dad could also be in the gents toilet or feeding our baby sister or held up talking to a neighbour on another ward.

  I was all set to lie until my tongue turned black but I didn’t have to say a thing when we got to Florence Ward. There were two nurses sharing a bunch of grapes in a little side room but they didn’t spot us.

  We hurried past bed after bed, looking for Mum. Some of the women were lying down looking grey like the lady in the lift. Some were sitting chatting to their visitors, eating chocolates and opening cards. Some were shuffling up and down the ward in their dressing gowns, attached to weird pull-along drips.

  ‘What are those bag things for?’ Kendall asked.

  ‘It’s to make them better.’

  ‘Mum won’t have one, will she?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Where is Mum?’

  ‘She’ll be just up here,’ I said hoarsely.

  The Voice of Doom was shouting in my head. I saw an empty bed stripped of its covers. I stopped still, staring at it.

  ‘Ouch, your nails are digging in,’ Kendall said.

  Then he pulled away from me. ‘Mum!’ He went charging down to the end of the ward.

  I blundered after him, looking around wildly. Then I saw her too, her blonde hair fanned out on her pillow. She had her head turned to the wall so we couldn’t see her face. The bedclothes were right up over her shoulders. She was lying very still.

  ‘Mum?’ said Kendall.

  ‘She’s asleep,’ I said. I put my hand on Mum’s shoulder and shook her gently. ‘Mum?’

  She mumbled something and tried to pull the covers up over her head.

  ‘Mum! It’s us, Lola Rose and Kendall.’

  Mum opened her eyes. She looked at us blearily. I wondered if she’d forgotten our new names. I bent right up close so that my lips were against her ear.

  ‘It’s Jayni and Kenny, Mum,’ I whispered.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. She didn’t sound particularly pleased to see us.

  ‘How are you, Mum?’ I asked.

  ‘Bloody terrible,’ she said.

  She sounded as if she had the worst hangover in the world – but she still sounded like herse
lf. She wasn’t lying back, all grey and groaning. Though she did groan when Kendall nuzzled up to her for a cuddle.

  ‘Mind out! It’s sore!’

  Kendall froze. ‘Have they chopped your boobie right off, Mum?’ he asked.

  ‘Christ, I hope not,’ said Mum, scrabbling under the covers. ‘No, I’m all here under the bandages. They’ve hacked at it, they’ve hacked under my arm too. He’s a bloody butcher, that Mr Key.’

  ‘But it’s to make you better, Mum. You are better now, aren’t you?’ I said.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t care. I just want to go to sleep.’ She tried to burrow back down.

  I tapped her shoulder. ‘So will you come home tomorrow, Mum?’

  ‘Look, I’ll try – but at the moment I can’t even get up to go to the loo, let alone get myself all the way home.’

  ‘But – but what are we going to do, Mum? We haven’t got any money left. We spent the last of it on your flowers.’

  I laid them on the pillow beside her. Mum looked at them.

  ‘That was a bit stupid then. Look, they’re wilting already.’

  I swallowed hard. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. But what are we going to do?’

  Mum’s eyes were closing. ‘Look, ask your dad,’ she murmured.

  ‘Dad? Mum, wake up! We don’t live with Dad any more, remember?’

  Mum moaned. ‘Oh God,’ she said.

  She started crying. She didn’t make any noise but tears leaked out of her closed eyelids. Kendall started crying too, his mouth puckered. I was scared someone might call a nurse.

  ‘Don’t cry, Mum,’ I said. My throat was so tight it hurt to talk. ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘It’s not OK. Oh God, I’m so useless. Maybe you kids would be better off in care than stuck with me.’

  ‘No, we wouldn’t! You’re a lovely mum. You can’t help being sick. Don’t you cry now. We’ll manage. I’ll think of something.’

  Mum’s face contorted.

  ‘What is it, Mum? Is it the pain?’

  ‘I can’t stand it when you’re so bloody brave,’ Mum sobbed. ‘I’m sorry, kids. I’ve screwed everything up.’

  ‘No you haven’t. You’re the best mum in the whole world and you’re going to get better ever so quick and we’ll stay lucky lucky lucky.’

  I went on talking to her like she was my little girl, stroking her soft hair. She sighed, snuggled down and went to sleep. I stood still, feeling her shoulders rise at each breath. I told myself that I didn’t care about anything else, just so long as she was alive.

  Kendall snuffled behind me. He had one hand between his legs and a desperate expression. I didn’t get him to the loo in time.

  ‘My trousers are all wet,’ Kendall wailed.

  ‘Never mind. It’s getting dark outside. No one will notice.’

  ‘Are we going home now?’

  ‘That’s right.’ I gave him a big smile. I was Lola Rose. I’d get us home somehow, even though we didn’t have any money.

  We waited for the first bus and got on. I opened my purse and then looked astonished to find it empty. I gave a little gasp and told the bus driver that my mum had given me two pounds for the bus journey and now they weren’t there.

  ‘Spent it on sweets, have you?’ he said, but then he grinned. ‘Go on, kids, hop on.’

  The second bus driver wasn’t anywhere near as kind. He said we’d have to fill out a special form with our name and address. I got very worried but a lady with a lot of shopping standing behind us said, ‘Oh for God’s sake, I’ll pay for them’ – and she did.

  We both said thank you very much. She gave us a little lecture about being out late by ourselves and didn’t our mother know?

  ‘Our mum’s in hospital,’ said Kendall.

  She looked at his tear-stained face. ‘Oh dear, I’m so sorry,’ she said.

  So we got all the way home for nothing. It was very late when we got back. Kendall was starving hungry. So was I. I looked at the last few slices of bread in the packet but they were bluer than ever and smelt funny. Kendall opened his mouth hopefully, like a little bird.

  ‘No, it’s gone bad. You’ll get a tummy ache if you eat it.’

  ‘I want to eat something,’ said Kendall.

  I thought hard. ‘Wait here.’

  I went downstairs and knocked on Miss Parker’s door. Her television was blaring but she didn’t answer. I tried calling through her letter box.

  ‘There’s nobody in,’ she called, which was a pretty daft thing to do. Still, she was daft, so what did I expect? She wouldn’t come to her door. I gave up on her and went upstairs to Steve and Andy’s.

  I felt sick with nerves. Mum had called Steve and Andy a lot of bad names. Maybe they’d yell rude things at me when they saw who was knocking. I prayed it would be Andy who came to the door. He was so much nicer than Steve.

  It was Steve. He raised his eyebrows when he saw me. He didn’t say anything at all, just folded his arms.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Steve,’ I said.

  ‘You don’t bother me, though I seem to bother you, judging by all the names I get called.’

  ‘I didn’t ever call you names.’

  ‘No, but your mum certainly came out with a mouthful.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. She’s sorry too. She was just upset because of that Jake.’

  ‘I haven’t seen him around recently.’

  ‘He’s gone.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ He didn’t sound very sympathetic. ‘I bet your mum’s in a bit of a state.’

  ‘Yes. She is. So she didn’t get to the shops today and I wonder – I know it’s a bit of a cheek, but could we borrow a carton of milk?’

  Steve’s eyebrows shot up further. ‘So she’s sent you on this little begging mission?’

  ‘She’s not feeling very well.’

  ‘Mm,’ said Steve.

  ‘Who is it, Steve?’ Andy called from inside their flat.

  ‘It’s little Lola Lollipop from downstairs,’ said Steve. ‘Come to beg a pint of milk off us.’

  ‘Borrow,’ I said. ‘We’ll pay you back when . . . whenever.’

  ‘Hi, Lola Rose,’ said Andy, gently pushing Steve to one side. ‘You OK, sweetheart?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

  Andy still looked concerned. ‘Come in for a minute,’ he said. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? A Coke and crisps?’

  My mouth watered at the thought. ‘I can’t really leave Kendall,’ I said.

  ‘Isn’t your mum home?’ said Steve, narrowing his eyes.

  ‘Yes! Yes, but she’s in bed, not very well. I want to make her a cup of tea, see, so if I could just borrow that milk?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Andy. He brought me a big two-pint carton, plus a couple of cans of Coke and a big bag of Kettle crisps. ‘Take these back for you and Kendall.’

  ‘Oh thank you, Andy, thank you!’

  ‘What about breakfast? Has Mum got something in?’

  ‘Well, the bread’s gone a bit stale . . .’

  He gave me half their loaf and a big packet of muesli.

  ‘You’re so kind.’

  ‘Yeah, he’s Mr Soft Touch,’ said Steve, but he didn’t sound too cross about it.

  Kendall and I devoured the Coke and crisps. I felt we should save half as it was such a big bag but we were so hungry we ended up munching every scrap and licking out the bag. Kendall drank his Coke too quickly and got the hiccups. He found this uproariously funny at first. Then he got tired and tetchy.

  ‘Stop me!’ he begged.

  I tried making him sip water but he hiccuped in mid swallow and choked. Even that didn’t stop him. I knew you were supposed to be able to frighten someone out of hiccups so I tried creeping up on him and going boo. This didn’t work either.

  It seemed so stupid trying to frighten him when we were in such a scary situation already. The Voice of Doom was laughing its head off.

  Kendall was still hiccuping when I put him to bed. I made him lie on his tummy and then I patted
his back.

  ‘I used to do this when you were a little baby,’ I said. ‘It always made you burp.’

  ‘Me a lickle baby now,’ Kendall lisped. ‘Burpy burpy burp.’ He made George jump up and down. ‘Poor George. He’s got the burpy hiccups too.’

  ‘I’m not surprised he’s got hiccups. Tell him to stop snacking on poor little Bobby Blue Bear.’

  ‘He gets hungry,’ said Kendall. ‘And Bobby likes being eaten.’

  ‘Well, tell George he’d better not start on Pinkie. I don’t want shark slobber all over my bear.’

  Kendall giggled, hiccuped one last time, and fell fast asleep. I took my clothes off and lay down beside him. I’d put Kendall to sleep. I’d put Mum to sleep. I wanted someone to come along and put me to sleep.

  There were too many worries circling round and round my head. I knew Mum couldn’t come home tomorrow. Maybe not even the day after. And when she did come home she’d probably still feel poorly. She wouldn’t be able to work for a while. So what were we going to do for money?

  I couldn’t keep begging food from Steve and Andy. I couldn’t think of any way I could earn money myself. You had to be thirteen before you could do a newspaper round. I’d seen a few kids helping out in the market, but they were all boys. I could filch a few bruised bananas and rotten apples as the market closed up each day but that wouldn’t be enough to feed the three of us. I could hang about outside McDonald’s and grab left-over French fries and half-eaten burgers. I could sidle round Sainsbury’s and pinch a packet here, a tin there . . . ?

  No, I couldn’t. I didn’t have the bottle. What if I got caught? It was wrong to steal. But Mum needed good food to build her strength up. She’d looked so little lying there in hospital. What if I had to watch her losing weight day after day? What if she died?

  What would Kendall and I do then? Would they make us go back to Dad? He’d be kind to Kendall but I wasn’t his little Jayni any more. I was big enough for him to batter.

  I moved my jaw gingerly. It still sometimes ached from that one punch. I couldn’t take it like Mum. I was a terrible baby. I’d cry, and that always made Dad madder.

  I curled up small and felt for Pinkie bear. I hugged her hard against my chest. I thought of Dad’s fists. Tears trickled onto Pinkie’s fur. I wished she could grow bigger, big as my pillow, big as the bed. I wanted her to lift me up and cradle me against her pink fur.