Clean Break

by Jacqueline Wilson

  Maxie stopped whining and started full-bodied sobbing.

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake!’ said Gran. ‘Look, this is meant to be a treat. Do stop acting as if I’m torturing you. Maybe we’re just going to have to give up on this, Em.’

  ‘No, no, please let’s go on, I want to, don’t be mean!’ Vita wailed. She started sobbing too.

  ‘Oh, dear God, stop it, both of you, or I’ll knock your heads together. Why did I ever say I’d do this?’ said Gran, looking at me balefully.

  ‘You said you’d take us up to London because you’re a lovely kind gran and I’m very very grateful,’ I said, laying it on with a trowel – no, a huge great spade of praise!

  ‘Yes, I am lovely and kind – and very very stupid,’ said Gran, hanging onto Maxie and Vita. They were trying hard to outsob each other. Gran give them a little shake. They sobbed harder. People were staring.

  ‘Stop it! Stop it at once, you’re showing me up! If you don’t stop this minute we’ll go straight back home without any treats at all,’ Gran threatened.

  I panicked. ‘It’s OK, Gran. I’ll stay on the ground with Maxie. You go on the wheel with Vita.’

  Gran thought about it. ‘But then you’ll miss out altogether, Em, and you’re the only one behaving sensibly. Won’t you mind terribly if you don’t get to go on the wheel?’

  I didn’t mind one little bit, but I didn’t let on. ‘Perhaps I’ll get to go on the wheel another time,’ I said, trying to look wistful.

  ‘You’re a good girl, Em. Here!’ Gran fished in her handbag and tucked a five-pound note in my hand. ‘Buy yourselves an ice cream while you’re waiting for Vita and me.’

  I was more than ready for something to eat. I’d been so busy fixing everyone else’s breakfast I’d forgotten to eat any myself. I bought Maxie and me large 99s from a Whippy ice-cream van. Maxie had given himself hiccups after all that sobbing.

  ‘Lick your ice cream slowly, don’t make your hiccups worse,’ I said. ‘Look, Vita and Gran are getting into their pod. Up they go!’

  Maxie shuddered. ‘I’m sorry I’m not a big brave boy,’ he said forlornly.

  ‘You can’t help it, Maxie. Don’t worry. What would you like to do for your treat then? Vita’s had the ride on the wheel. There she is, waving, way up high already, look!’

  Maxie ducked his head. ‘Don’t want to look!’ he said.

  I waved back to Vita. I picked Maxie’s limp arm up and waggled it, so that he was waving too. His other arm waggled in sympathy and he dropped his ice cream on the ground.

  ‘Oh, my ice cream!’

  ‘Oh dear. Well. You can finish mine if you like. Or I’ll get you another one. Gran’s given me heaps of money.’

  ‘Will that be my treat, another ice cream?’ said Maxie.

  ‘No, no, you can choose something else.’

  ‘A helter-skelter?’

  ‘Maxie! Look, there aren’t any helter-skelters in London, trust me. They’re just at funfairs and the seaside. And even if we took you all the way back to the one on the pier, I don’t think you’d really like it. You could sit on my lap on the mat, but it’s not me you want, is it? It’s Dad.’

  Maxie put his sticky hands over his ears but I knew he could still hear me.

  ‘I miss him too, Maxie. So much. I’d give anything for him to come back. I’ve wished it over and over.’ I took Dancer off my hand and looked at my ring. ‘We could make another wish if you like, on my magic emerald.’

  ‘Will it come true?’ said Maxie, taking his hands away from his head.

  ‘Well, it hasn’t come true yet. But it could come true this time. Shall we try?’

  Maxie clasped my hand and we wished for Dad. I muttered a whole lot of stuff. Maxie just went, ‘Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad.’ Then we both looked round over our shoulders. There were dads everywhere, shouting, laughing, calling, chatting, joking, pulling funny faces. But not our dad.

  Dancer wriggled onto my hand and stroked Maxie’s cheek with her paw. He brushed her away, not in the mood for her stories. I wasn’t really either. I undid my school bag and read the first page of my Dancer book. My heart started thumping. It seemed so stupid now, so totally babyish. Why on earth would Jenna Williams want to read it? She’d probably say something nice to me, but privately she’d be thinking me a totally sad idiot. I crammed my story back into my school bag, hiding it under all the books.

  We sat silently on some steps, waiting. It seemed an age before Gran and Vita got out their pod and came over to us. Vita was dancing, twirling round and round. ‘It was so great up on the wheel! I saw Buckingham Palace and the Queen waved to me,’ she carolled in a cutesie-pie voice.

  ‘It was amazing, you could see for miles,’ said Gran, jigging around, almost breaking into a dance herself. ‘Oh dear, you two, what glum faces! Maxie, you’re such a prize banana. Come on then, let’s go for a little walk along the embankment.’

  ‘Hadn’t we better go and find the bookshop now?’ I said anxiously.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Em, your blessed Jenna Williams isn’t going to be there for an hour and a half. We don’t want to be hanging around waiting with nothing to do. No, I want to show you the Globe Theatre – it’s only a couple of minutes away, we could see it from the pod. It’s been built just like a proper Elizabethan theatre.’

  ‘I want to go on the stage and dance!’ said Vita, holding out her arms and simpering, as if she could hear tumultuous applause.

  So we trudged along the embankment. My book bag got heavier and heavier and heavier, but I didn’t dare complain. Maxie trailed beside me, scuffing his feet. Vita stopped prancing and started pestering for an ice cream, because Maxie and I had already had one. Gran had to stand on one foot and adjust the straps on her sandals, sighing.

  ‘Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,’ she said. ‘It looked so near when we were in the pod, but it’s obviously miles away.’

  ‘Miles and miles and miles,’ Maxie said glumly.

  ‘It’s not fair, I want an ice cream,’ said Vita.

  ‘What’s the time? Maybe we should start going back now,’ I said. ‘I want to be first in the queue at Addeyman’s bookshop.’

  ‘I told you, there’s heaps of time yet. We’ll just go as far as that big chimney, see it? I think that’s Tate Modern, the art gallery. I wouldn’t mind getting some postcards,’ said Gran.

  ‘To send to Eddie?’ I said.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Gran. ‘Though I don’t want to send any picture of daft scribble or dead cows or what have you.’

  We didn’t get to go inside the gallery. We all stared transfixed at the huge sculptures outside, on the forecourt. There were four gigantic towers, one red, one yellow, one blue and one green, with shiny silver slides spiralling round and round, down to the ground. There were doors at the bottom, and stairs leading up inside.

  ‘Helter-skelters!’ Maxie shrieked.

  ‘Well I never! There you are, Maxie, your wish come true! They look like helter-skelters, certainly,’ said Gran. ‘But they’re not real ones.’

  ‘They look real. I want to go on the red one!’ said Vita.

  ‘You can’t go on them, they’re sculptures,’ said Gran.

  ‘No, Gran, look, people are going on them,’ I said, pointing to heads bobbing at the top of each tower.

  ‘So they are! Well, all right, I don’t see why you can’t go too,’ said Gran. ‘Maxie, you go on with Em.’

  ‘No, not Em. I’m going with Dad!’ said Maxie.

  ‘Your dad’s not here, Maxie,’ said Gran, sighing.

  ‘He will be, he will be! We wished it, and it’s come true, it really has!’ said Maxie, his face radiant.

  ‘Oh Maxie,’ I said, but I wondered if Dad might just be up at the top of these magical helter-skelters, waiting for us.

  I took Maxie and Vita on all four helter-skelters. They weren’t dark inside. They were lit up with a wonderful golden glow and there were pictures to look at as we climbed the steps. There were strawberries and scarle
t ribbons, roses and Little Red Riding Hood in the red helter-skelter; bananas and teddy bears, sandpits and smiley suns in the yellow helter-skelter; turquoise pools and clear skies, cornflowers and little boy babies in the blue helter-skelter; Granny Smith apples and grassy meadows and an entire Emerald City of Oz in the green helter-skelter.

  Everyone emerged at the top with great smiles on their faces before they spiralled all the way downwards on the shiny silver slide.

  Everyone but Maxie.

  We went up the red helter-skelter, the yellow helter-skelter, the blue helter-skelter, the green helter-skelter. Maxie didn’t give the pictures a second glance. He was peering round, looking desperately.

  ‘I give up!’ said Gran, when he started sobbing. ‘He asks for a helter-skelter in the middle of London. One, two, three, four helter-skelters appear as if by magic. And is this child delighted? No, he bawls his blooming head off!’

  ‘It’s not really Maxie’s fault, Gran. He was hoping to see . . . someone,’ I said. I picked Maxie up and gave him a cuddle, though I could barely move for the big book bag on my back.

  I was starting to get a bit anxious. It was twenty to one. I didn’t want to be late for Jenna Williams.

  I struggled with Maxie for a minute or so.

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake, Em, put him down. Why should you have to lug him along like that?’ said Gran. ‘Maxie, stop that silly snivelling. Stand on your own two feet and walk properly.’

  Maxie couldn’t manage it. In the end Gran sighed deeply and took him from me.

  ‘I’ll carry you for one minute, that’s all. You watch your feet on my skirt, and for pity’s sake don’t wipe your snotty little face all round my shoulders! Oh, the joys of being a grandma!’ said Gran.

  We trudged back along the embankment and up over Waterloo Bridge. Gran threatened to chuck Maxie over the parapet into the water. Maxie knew she was joking, but decided to clamber down from her arms and walk under his own steam, just in case.

  Vita was the one whining and dragging her feet now, complaining that no one ever carried her. I was feeling pretty exhausted myself. I seemed to be carrying at least a hundred Jenna Williams hardbacks in my bag. There was a cold wind up on the bridge but I was so hot my green dress was sticking to me.

  ‘Is it far now, Gran?’ I asked.

  ‘Just at the end of the bridge, over the road and round to the left,’ said Gran. ‘Five minutes. Don’t fuss, Em. We’ll be there on time. You’ll be one of the first to see her. Then we’ll all go off and have a bite to eat. I can’t wait to sit down, these flipping sandals are killing me. And my back’s playing up worse than ever after hauling ten-ton Maxie all over London. I must be mad.’

  We got to the end of the bridge. We could see a huge queue winding halfway down the Strand.

  ‘Why are all those people there, Gran?’ said Vita.

  ‘Don’t ask me,’ said Gran. ‘Hang on, there’s that musical, The Lion King, on at the theatre up ahead. Maybe they’re queuing for a show. There’s lots of children, that must be it.’

  My heart was starting to thump hard inside my green dress. There were lots and lots and lots of children. The girls all seemed to be clutching Jenna Williams books.

  We got to the top of the street. The queue was thicker now, ringing round the Covent Garden piazza. There were crash barriers stretching all the way to the big Addeyman’s bookshop over at the other side. The queue disappeared inside the door.

  There was a huge book display in the window, and emerald fairy lights and a big poster of Jenna Williams and a special notice. JENNA WILLIAMS SIGNING STARTS AT 1 TODAY!

  ‘Oh no!’ said Gran. ‘I don’t believe it! This can’t be the Jenna Williams queue!’

  ‘I think it is, Gran,’ I said. ‘Shall we go back and join on the end?’

  ‘For pity’s sake, we can’t hang around here all day, Em! We’ll be hours and hours!’ said Gran.

  ‘Please!’ I said.

  ‘No. I’m sorry, but this is beyond a joke. We’re all exhausted as it is.’

  ‘Oh Gran, please, I’ve got to meet her.’

  ‘She’s just some boring middle-aged lady with a funny haircut,’ said Gran, peering at the poster. ‘What’s so special about her? Look, we’ll go to another bookshop and I’ll buy you a copy of her new book, all right?’

  ‘But it won’t be signed! And I so so so badly want to speak to her. Oh Gran, please!’ I could feel my face screwing up. Hot tears started dribbling down my cheeks.

  ‘Now now! Oh dear Lord, it’s bad enough Maxie and Vita bawling their heads off. Don’t you start, Em. All right, all right. We’ll go to the end of the queue. We’ll give it an hour or so, see how we go.’

  ‘Oh Gran, thank you, thank you!’ I jumped up and down in spite of my huge bag of books.

  ‘Steady on now! You kids. You’re all mad. And so am I. Absolutely barking!’

  We went all the way back to the end of the queue. There was a big smiley man at the end, with a pretty little girl about Vita’s age.

  ‘Hello!’ he said. ‘Join the queue! Have you brought your camp beds and your picnic?’

  ‘I wish we had!’ said Gran. ‘Honestly, isn’t this ridiculous! We must be mad.’

  ‘Well, we’re just fond parents,’ said the man, patting his little girl’s silky golden hair. ‘This is my Molly. What are your three called?’

  Gran simpered. ‘I’m their gran, not their mum!’ she said. ‘This is Em, she’s the number one Jenna Williams fan. Then this is Vita and this is Maxie – they’re not really into the books yet.’

  ‘I am!’ said Vita. ‘I like the one with all the parties and the presents where the nasty girl wets herself.’

  ‘I like that one too,’ said Molly, giggling. ‘And I like Friends Forever. I like the funny dog in that one. I love dogs. I’ve got this little dog called Maisie, she sleeps on my bed at night.’

  ‘I’ve got this great big reindeer, Dancer – she sleeps in my bed,’ said Vita, snatching Dancer off my hand and making her shake paws with Molly.

  Molly’s dad laughed and admired Dancer. Vita made Dancer prance around, and then let Molly have a go.

  ‘Now me, now me,’ said Maxie.

  ‘You can have a go any old time,’ said Vita.

  ‘No, let him, he’s only little,’ said Molly kindly. ‘Here you are, Maxie, we’ll all take it in turns, eh?’

  I took my heavy bag off my shoulders and sighed deeply with relief. Vita and Maxie seemed happy talking to Molly. Gran seemed happy chatting to Molly’s nice dad. I didn’t want to talk to anyone but Jenna Williams.

  13

  WE QUEUED AND we queued and we queued.

  One hour went by. Vita and Molly larked around together. Vita showed Molly how to do a little modern dance routine. Maxie tried to copy them, kicking out his stick legs and nearly tripping people up. Gran seized hold of him and told him to behave. Maxie glared, determined to behave badly, but Molly’s dad quickly distracted him, producing little sandwiches and tiny cakes and apples from his briefcase. He insisted on sharing them with all of us.

  Another hour went by. Vita got fed up with working Dancer and ordered me to take a turn. I made Dancer tell them a story. Then another and another. Molly seemed to like them a lot.

  ‘Are these stories from a book, Emily?’ Molly’s dad asked.

  I shook my head shyly, not realizing he’d been listening too.

  ‘You don’t mean to say you make them all up yourself?’

  ‘Well . . . my dad made up some of the stories,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Yes, he’s very good at making up stories,’ Gran sniffed. ‘He’s out of the picture now,’ she mouthed to Molly’s dad.

  ‘Em’s made up heaps of the Dancer stories herself though. She makes up a new one every day,’ Vita said, surprisingly.

  ‘Then you’re very clever and inventive, Emily. You should write them all down,’ said Molly’s dad.

  ‘She has! In a special book and she does pictures too, she showed me,’
said Maxie.

  ‘You must be very proud of your grand-daughter,’ Molly’s dad said to Gran.

  Gran smiled and put her arm round my shoulders! ‘Yes, she’s a clever girl, our Em,’ she said. ‘Here, darling, if I give you my purse can you go to that coffee shop over there – look, on the other side of the piazza – and buy a coffee for Molly’s dad and me, and some juice for all the children.’

  I set off importantly, threading my way through the crowds watching the street performers. There was a guy juggling on a very elongated unicycle, a conjurer in a top hat, and a girl in a silver dance frock pointing her toe on a little platform. I thought at first she was a statue because her skin and her hair were painted silver too and she was standing stock-still, not moving a muscle. But then a man threw a coin into a saucer on the ground and the silver girl smiled and twirled round once. Another man threw two coins and she did two twirls and then stood still again, toe pointed, back in her statue position.

  I wanted to make her twirl myself, but I didn’t dare spend any more of Gran’s money. I went and bought all the drinks, wondering how on earth I was going to carry everything. Gran wouldn’t carry on calling me clever if I spilled scalding coffee everywhere. Luckily the coffee shop gave me a cardboard tray.

  A third hour passed, much more slowly. The drinks weren’t such a good idea. Gran had to take Maxie and Vita off to find a loo on the second floor of the bookshop. I wouldn’t have minded going too, but I was scared that if we all left the queue Gran might give up on the whole idea and drag us home.

  Molly’s pretty mum turned up, with her two big sisters Jess and Phoebe. They’d all been on a clothes shopping trip. They stood with Molly while her dad went off for a little walk to stretch his legs.

  ‘Don’t be long, Dad!’ Molly said anxiously.

  ‘I’ll be back in ten minutes, tops,’ he said.

  He came back in exactly ten minutes, because I counted. Molly didn’t bother. She obviously trusted him.

  ‘Dad!’ she said, her blue eyes sparkling.

  She leaned against him and he clasped his hands loosely round her neck, tickling her under her chin.