‘Yes. Well. My stepdad,’ I said.
Yvonne rolled her eyes. ‘Uh-oh. I’ve got a stepdad. I can’t stick him.’
‘Well, my dad’s lovely,’ I said quickly.
‘What a cool thing for your dad to do,’ said Jenny, gently throwing the fairy in the air and then catching her. ‘Look, she can fly!’
‘You can have her if you want,’ I said.
‘What, just to play with for today?’
‘No, to keep.’
‘Oh Emily! Really? How wonderful!’
‘You lucky thing,’ said Yvonne enviously.
‘You can have one too,’ I said, digging in my school bag.
I didn’t particularly want to give a fairy to Yvonne. I liked Jenny much more, but I couldn’t really leave Yvonne out.
‘Oh wow! Thanks. She can be my lucky mascot,’ said Yvonne.
‘Em, have you ever read any of Jenna Williams’s books?’ Jenny asked, floating her fairy through the air.
‘Like she’s my favourite writer ever,’ I said.
‘Have you read At the Stroke of Twelve? These fairies are just like the ones Lily makes in that book.’
‘I know, that’s why I like them too,’ I said. I thought quickly. ‘So, what’s your favourite Jenna Williams book, Jenny?’
We had this wonderful long conversation about books while Yvonne sighed a bit and did cartwheels round us and told us were both boring-boring-boring old bookworms. But she was just having a little tease, she wasn’t really being nasty. She kept interrupting to ask about my dad and what it was like to be the daughter – well, stepdaughter – of someone famous.
Dad wasn’t really famous. He’d just had a few small parts on television and appeared in a couple of adverts. He hadn’t had his big break yet. Still, I happily showed off about him even so.
I wondered if they’d take any notice of me the next day. I hung back a bit at play time, my heart thumping. I so badly wanted to be friends but I was scared they’d feel I was muscling in. But it was all right! It was more than all right, it was wonderful! Jenny had brought her favourite Jenna Williams book Forever Friends to school with her. I hadn’t read it because it wasn’t out in paperback yet.
‘I thought you might like to borrow it, Emily,’ Jenny said. ‘Come and sit on the wall with Yvonne and me.’
We were all best friends after that. I knew that Yvonne was still Jenny’s best ever friend, but I was their second-best friend and that was still great.
They both seemed pleased to see me on the first day of term. Jenny told us all about her Christmas at her auntie’s house and how her twelve-year-old cousin Mark had kissed her under the mistletoe and all her family wolf-whistled and Jenny just about died of embarrassment. Yvonne said she’d had two Christmases, one on the 25th when she’d stayed at home with her mum and her stepdad and her sisters and they’d had turkey and presents and watched DVDs, and then another on the 26th when she’d gone to her dad and his girlfriend and their new baby and they’d had turkey and presents and watched DVDs. It was the same DVD too.
Then they looked at me.
‘It started off the best Christmas ever,’ I said. ‘Dad gave me an emerald ring, a real emerald ring, honest.’
‘Oh wow! Your dad’s so amazing, like the coolest dad ever,’ said Yvonne. ‘Let’s see it then, Em!’
‘I’m not allowed to wear it to school, of course, but you can maybe come to my house sometime soon and see it. And he bought Vita this wonderful reindeer puppet and Maxie a huge set of felt pens and Mum some silver sandals and Gran some designer jeans.’
‘He bought your gran jeans?’ said Jenny, and started giggling. ‘I can’t imagine my nan in jeans. Still, your gran’s ever so slim.’
‘I know. It’s not fair. So’s my mum. I just get fatter and fatter,’ I said, pinching my big tummy.
‘No, you don’t,’ Jenny lied kindly. ‘You’re not really fat, you’re just sort of comfortable.’
I wriggled. I didn’t feel comfortable. They were my friends. I had to tell them.
‘But then it all went wrong,’ I said. ‘There was this row. Then my dad . . .’
I suddenly found tears spurting down my face. I put my head in my hands, scared they’d call me a baby. But Jenny put her arm round me and Yvonne put her arm round me the other side.
‘Don’t cry, Em,’ said Jenny. ‘My mum and auntie had a row over visiting my great-grandma in her nursing home, and my dad and my uncle drank too much beer and wouldn’t get up to go for a walk on Boxing Day and Mum got mad at Dad. All families have rows at Christmas.’
‘Yeah, that’s right, Em. My mum found out my dad let one of my sisters have a glass of wine at his house and she just about went bananas,’ said Yvonne. ‘My mum and dad always have rows at Christmas even though they aren’t a family any more.’
‘I don’t think we’re a family either,’ I said. ‘My dad’s got this girlfriend. He walked out to be with her and he hasn’t come back.’
I started howling. Jenny pressed closer, her cheek against mine. Yvonne found me a tissue and slipped it into my hand.
‘What’s up with Fatty?’ someone asked, passing by in the playground.
‘Don’t call Em stupid names,’ Jenny said fiercely.
‘Yeah, just mind your own business,’ said Yvonne.
They bunched up beside me protectively.
‘Take no notice, Em,’ said Jenny.
‘You won’t tell anyone?’ I wept.
‘It’s nothing to get worried about. Heaps and heaps of families split up. Your mum and dad still love you, that’s what matters,’ Yvonne gabbled, like it was a nursery rhyme she’d known since she was little. Then she paused. ‘But we won’t tell, promise.’
They treated me with extra care and gentleness all day, as if I was an invalid. I got to choose which games we played, I got to share Jenny’s lunchbreak banana and Yvonne’s box of raisins, I got first go on the classroom computer and the best paintbrush, and when we had to divide up into twos in drama Jenny and Yvonne insisted we had to be a three.
They were so kind I found I was almost enjoying myself, though I still had an empty ache in my stomach all the time. It got worse during afternoon school. I started to worry about telling Jenny and Yvonne. It had made it seem too real. Maybe if I’d kept quiet it would all magically come right. Mum hadn’t told anyone. Violet at the Rainbow Salon had tried her hardest to get her to talk, I knew, but Mum hadn’t said a word.
I didn’t seem able to keep quiet at all. If I’d only held my tongue when I heard Dad whispering on his mobile to Sarah, then none of this might have happened.
I thought of Dad, Dad, Dad. The ache in my stomach got worse. I hunched up, clutching my front.
‘What’s the matter, Emily?’ said Mrs Marks, our teacher.
‘Nothing, Mrs Marks,’ I mumbled.
‘Well, sit up straight then. And don’t look so tragic, dear. I know you find maths difficult, but there’s no need to act as if you’re being tortured.’
Most of the class laughed at me. Jenny and Yvonne gave me sad comforting looks, raising their eyebrows at Mrs Marks’s attitude. Jenny passed me a hastily scribbled note: Take no notice of mad old Marks-and-Spencer, you know what she’s like. Love J xxx.
The ache didn’t go away though. I kept thinking of Dad looking so sad when I wouldn’t kiss him goodbye. I tried to remember that he’d done the bad thing by leaving us. He’d inflicted that horrible Sarah on us and she’d made it plain she couldn’t stick us. Dad didn’t seem to care. If he just wanted to be with her then why should we be nice to him?
I knew why. We loved him so.
‘I love you, Dad,’ I whispered. ‘Come back. Please please please come back. I’ll do anything if you come back. I’ll never ever be mean to you again. I don’t care what you’ve done. I just need to see you. We all need you so. I promise I’ll always be good, I’ll never ever moan about anything. Please just come back.’
The ache got worse and worse. I started to be
scared I might throw up in class or have an even more embarrassing accident. I fidgeted around in my seat, praying for the bell to go. When it rang at long last I shot off straight away, not even waiting to say goodbye to Jenny or Yvonne.
I got to the loo in time, thank goodness. I was still ahead of most of the others when I went out into the playground.
I don’t know why I looked at the gate. It wasn’t as if I was all set to go home. I was ready to go next door to the Infants after-school club. I went there instead of my own Juniors club because I needed to keep an eye on Vita and Maxie. We stayed there till five thirty, when Gran or Mum came to pick us up after work.
I liked helping out with all the little ones, not just my own sister and brother. They all liked me because I told them stories and played with them, all of us squashed up in the Wendy house, and I made them a whole Noah’s ark of funny dough animals. I was thinking of making a dough reindeer for Vita to cheer her up. Maybe I could do one for Maxie too. I was working out how to manage clay antlers in my head when I saw the figure standing by the gate. It was a man with a plait.
7
‘DAD!’ I SHOUTED. ‘Dad!’
He turned and waved. It really was him. I hadn’t made him up. He was there!
I went flying across the playground, through the gate, and then I hurled myself at Dad so hard he staggered and we both nearly toppled over. We clung to each other, swaying and laughing. I dug my fingers into his denim jacket, making quite sure he was real, that I wasn’t just imagining him.
‘Oh Dad,’ I said. ‘I was wishing and wishing and wishing you’d come back.’
‘And here I am, Princess Emerald. Oh God, I’ve missed you.’
He gave me another hug. I saw Jenny and Yvonne standing still in the playground, staring dumbfounded at Dad and me, but for once I couldn’t be bothered about them.
‘I went to pick up Vita and Maxie first but they didn’t come out with the other kids. Where are they?’
‘They’ll be in the after-school club, Dad.’
‘Oh, right. Well, let’s go and collect them, eh? I’m taking you kids out for tea. We’ll find somewhere really special.’
I wanted to go home for tea but I knew that wasn’t an option.
‘Where are we going then, Dad?’
‘Wait for the magical mystery tour, Princess. But I promise your royal highness there’ll be chips and candyfloss and ice cream and doughnuts and chocolate – everything you love and you’re not normally allowed.’
‘Are you kidding me, Dad?’
‘I’m deadly serious, sweetheart. Your wish is my command.’
I hung onto his arm proudly, never wanting to let him go. I didn’t want to share him with Vita and Maxie. I wanted to keep him just for me for five minutes, but I knew it wasn’t fair, so I took him to the after-school club. The moment Maxie saw him he came running across the classroom, scattering crayons and bricks in his wake. Vita hesitated a moment, but then she came running too, bright pink in the face.
‘Dad! Dad!’
‘Hi, darlings,’ said Dad, letting us all hang onto him, giving us a great big hug.
‘Well, there’s a fine welcome!’ said Miss Piper, who runs the after-school club.
‘It’s cupboard love, because I’m taking them out for a treat tea,’ said Dad. ‘Come on then, kids.’
We skipped off with Dad without a second thought.
‘Your carriage awaits,’ he said, leading us to a shiny silver car parked down the road.
We stared, open-mouthed. Our last car had been an old banger that had given up the ghost last year.
‘You’ve got a brand-new car, Dad?’ I asked shakily.
‘You bet,’ said Dad, clicking the doors open with his keys. Then he laughed at us. ‘Just for today. I’ve hired it so we can go for a little spin.’
I wasn’t sure who Dad meant by ‘we’. There was no one waiting in the car, but I wondered if we’d drive straight to Sarah’s flat and pick her up too.
‘Is it going to be just us?’ I said delicately.
‘Just us, Princess.’
For one magical moment I wondered if Sarah was already history. Then Dad said, ‘Sarah’s had to go for an audition. It’s such a shame, she really wanted to be in on this little trip. She wants to get to know you all properly.’
We stared at Dad pityingly. Vita rolled her eyes at me. We knew perfectly well Sarah didn’t want to get to know us at all. Who did Dad think he was kidding?
‘Have you got any auditions lined up, Dad?’ I asked, as we set off in the super shiny car. I was allowed to sit in front like a grown-up. I didn’t have to cram in the back with Vita and Maxie.
‘Oh, I’ve got all sorts of stuff lined up, Em,’ Dad said vaguely.
‘It’s just I wondered if you had an acting job or an advert or something, seeing as you haven’t been at the Palace the last few days,’ I said, trying to sound very casual.
‘Well, there hasn’t been much point. Folk don’t hot-foot it to Fairyland at this time of year, right after Christmas. In fact I was wondering about jacking it in altogether.’
‘You can’t close down Fairyland!’ I said.
‘Well, maybe that’s a bit drastic. I’ll think about it. And meanwhile I’m sure your mum won’t mind keeping an eye on it for me.’
‘Everyone misses you so at the Palace, Dad. Violet, Manny, Stevie, Angelica . . . and Mum.’
‘Well, I miss them all too,’ said Dad, staring straight ahead. ‘Especially your mum,’ he added softly.
‘So why won’t you come home, Dad?’ Vita said, leaning forward and poking her face between us in the front.
Dad didn’t answer straight away.
‘Dad!’ Vita said sharply, right in his ear.
‘Hey, darling, ssh! Now sit back and put your seat belt back on. I’ve got to concentrate on my driving for a little bit, OK?’ said Dad.
‘Where are we driving to, Dad?’ I asked.
‘Come on, Em, you’re meant to be my bright girl. Where do you get ice cream and chips and candyfloss? We’re off to the seaside!’
I stared at Dad. It was a raw dark January afternoon. It didn’t seem like a very practical idea. But Dad started talking about paddling and donkey rides and sandcastles so that I almost believed he was talking us to a magic seaside where it was warm and sunny and golden and we’d play on the sands together for endless happy hours. Vita believed it too, and started planning a new bucket and spade and a bag to collect pretty shells. Maxie went very quiet. I worried he might be feeling sick again.
‘Are you feeling all right, Maxie?’ I asked, craning round.
Maxie ducked his head.
‘Dad, we might have to stop, I think Maxie feels sick.’
‘Oh God, Maxie, little man, every time I see you now you start projectile vomiting,’ said Dad. ‘You can’t feel carsick, I’ve only been driving two minutes.’
‘I’m not feeling sick,’ Maxie mumbled.
‘So what’s bugging you then, Maxie?’ I asked.
‘I don’t want to paddle. The fish will chew my toes,’ Maxie said, drawing his feet up onto the car seat and shuddering, as if giant piranha fish were nibbling at him there and then.
Dad roared with laughter. So did Vita.
‘Don’t laugh!’ Maxie said crossly.
‘Well, you’re so stupid!’ said Vita. ‘I’m going paddling, Dad. If I had my costume with me I’d go right in swimming. I’m not afraid of fish, I like them. Dad, will you take me to swim with dolphins one day? That would be so cool.’
‘We’ll put that idea on hold for a little while, Princess Vita, but you can paddle with cod and haddock and plaice to your heart’s content today.’
We didn’t do any paddling though. It was dark by the time we got to the seaside. It was colder than ever, with an icy wind blowing right off the sea.
‘Mmm! Breathe in that fresh air,’ said Dad, but he was shivering inside his thin jacket.
Maxie’s sticking-out ears were painfully
crimson, so Dad wrapped my stripy wool scarf round them, tying it in a knot on top of Maxie’s head.
‘You look like a silly girl with a hair ribbon,’ Vita teased. She insisted she wasn’t cold but her teeth were chattering, and when I held her hand her fingers were like little icicles.
‘Let’s run along the sands,’ said Dad.
We couldn’t find any sand – there were just hard pebbles. We held hands and tried running, making a great crunching din. Maxie kept whining and tripping.
‘Ye gods, you’re a fusspot, little guy,’ said Dad. He picked Maxie up and sat him on his shoulders.
‘Pick me up too, Dad!’ said Vita.
‘Have a heart, darling, I’ll keel right over,’ said Dad. ‘Come on, blow the beach walk. We’ll go up on the prom and make for the pier.’
It glittered in the dark, fairy lights outlining the silver domes.
‘Is that a palace?’ Maxie asked.
‘It’s the Palace Pier, clever guy. See that stripy tower? That’s your very own tower, Prince Maxie, where you can sit on your golden throne and command your magic kingdom.’
Dad bought us food from every single stall on the pier – lemon pancakes and doughnuts oozing jam and salty chips and fluffy candyfloss and 99 ice creams, just as he promised. Vita and Maxie licked and nibbled and slurped until they had food stains all down their school uniform and pink candyfloss scarring their cheeks.
Their hands were too sticky to hold comfortably, so I had to steer them by the shoulders. I ate every scrap of all my takeaways, munching great mouthfuls until my school skirt strained at its zip, but I still didn’t feel full enough. The empty ache was there even though I kept telling myself I was having a wonderful day out with Dad and I should be happy happy happy. I’d conjured him up and here he was, all ours.
I started walking very carefully down the pier, trying hard not to step on any cracks whatsoever so that my luck would last and Dad would come back home with us and see Mum and stay for ever. I tried my best, but the pier planks were gnarled and twisted with age and it was hard placing my feet dead centre every single step. I could see through the planks to the dark sea hissing below. It made me dizzy and I had to look up. When I looked down again my shoes were spread all over the place, going over line after line.
Clean Break Page 8
